es. But if you go, can't I go with you?"

"I think I'd better go alone, Bessie. If he saw you, he might try to
take you back to the Hoovers, you know. No, I'll go alone. If it's only
two miles, it won't take me long to walk there, and I can get someone to
drive me back. Girls!"

They crowded about her.

"I'm going away for a little while. You are to stay here and wait for
me. And keep close together. I'll get back as soon as I can. And while
I'm gone you can clear up the mess we made with luncheon--when you've
finished it, I mean. Now, you'd better hurry up and eat it. I won't
wait."

And the guardian hurried off, determined to rescue Zara from the
clutches of the old miser who was so anxious to make her work for him,
because he saw a chance to get a good deal for nothing, or almost
nothing. If the general opinion about Silas Weeks was anywhere near
true, it would cost him mighty little to satisfy himself that he was
keeping faith with the county and giving Zara, in return for her
services, good board, lodging, and clothing.

Bessie watched Wanaka go off, and she tried to convince herself that
everything would be all right. But, strong as was the faith she already
had in Miss Mercer, she knew the ways of Silas Weeks too well to be
really confident. And she couldn't get rid of the feeling that she, and
no one else, was responsible for Zara. It was because of her that Zara
had come away, and Bessie felt that she should make sure, herself, that
Zara didn't have cause to regret the decision.

And then, suddenly, too, another thought struck her. What if she had,
without intention, misled Miss Eleanor? Suppose Farmer Weeks didn't go
to Zebulon at all? It was possible, for Bessie remembered now that
three-quarters of a mile or so along the road was a crossroad that
would lead him, should he turn there, back to Hedgeville.

With the thought Bessie could no longer remain still. She knew the
roads, and she determined that she must at least find out where Zara had
been taken. She might not be able to help her herself, but she could get
the news, the true news, for those who could. And, saying nothing to any
of the other girls, lest they should want to come with her, she slipped
off silently.

She did not descend to the road. If one farmer from Hedgeville had
passed already, others might follow in his wake, and Bessie was fiercely
determined not to let anything check her or interfere with her until she
knew what had becom