r?"

"Look, that black automobile!"

"Yes, yes!"

"Lorna has gone into it with a theatrical manager. She is going on the
stage!" and Mary caught his hand tensely as she dashed after the car.

It was a hopeless pursuit, for another machine had already come between
them. It was impossible for Burke to see the number of the car, and
then it turned around the next corner and was lost in the heavy traffic.

"Oh, what are we to do?" exclaimed Mary in despair.

"Well, we can go to all the theatrical offices, and make inquiries. I
have my badge under my coat, and they will answer, all right."

They went to every big office in the whole theatrical district. But
there, too, the search was vain. Mary was too nervous and wretched to
enjoy the possibility of a dinner, and so Burke took her home. Her
father asked for Lorna, to which Mary made some weak excuse which
temporarily quieted the old gentleman.

Promising to keep up his search in restaurants and offices, Burke
hurried on downtown again. It was useless. Throughout the night he
sought, but no trace of the girl had been found. When he finally went
up to the Barton home to learn if the young girl had returned, he found
the old man frantic with fear and worriment.

"Burke, some ill has befallen the child," he exclaimed. "Mary has
finally told me the truth, and my heart is breaking."

"There, sir, you must be patient. We will try our best. I can start
an investigation through police channels that will help along."

"But father became so worried that we called up your station. The
officer at the other end of the telephone took the name, and said he
would send out a notice to all the stations to start a search."

"Great Scott! That means publicity, Miss Mary. The papers will have
the story sure, now. There have been so many cases of girls
disappearing lately that they are just eager for another to write up."

Mary wrung her hands, and the old man chattered on excitedly.

"Then if it is publicity I don't care. I want my daughter, and I will
do everything in the world to get her."

Burke calmed them as much as he could, but if ever two people were
frantic with grief it was that unhappy pair.

[Illustration: Father and daughter were frantic with grief.]

Bobbie hurried on downtown again, promising to keep them advised about
the situation.

After he left Mary went to her own room, and by the side of the bed
which she and the absent one had shared so