"She must be somewhere around," said Anne. "She would never wander far
away alone . . . you know how timid she is. Perhaps she has fallen asleep
in one of the rooms."

Marilla shook her head.

"I've hunted the whole house through. But she may be in some of the
buildings."

A thorough search followed. Every corner of house, yard, and
outbuildings was ransacked by those two distracted people. Anne roved
the orchards and the Haunted Wood, calling Dora's name. Marilla took a
candle and explored the cellar. Davy accompanied each of them in turn,
and was fertile in thinking of places where Dora could possibly be.
Finally they met again in the yard.

"It's a most mysterious thing," groaned Marilla.

"Where can she be?" said Anne miserably

"Maybe she's tumbled into the well," suggested Davy cheerfully.

Anne and Marilla looked fearfully into each other's eyes. The thought
had been with them both through their entire search but neither had
dared to put it into words.

"She . . . she might have," whispered Marilla.

Anne, feeling faint and sick, went to the wellbox and peered over. The
bucket sat on the shelf inside. Far down below was a tiny glimmer of
still water. The Cuthbert well was the deepest in Avonlea. If Dora. . .
but Anne could not face the idea. She shuddered and turned away.

"Run across for Mr. Harrison," said Marilla, wringing her hands.

"Mr. Harrison and John Henry are both away . . . they went to town today.
I'll go for Mr. Barry."

Mr. Barry came back with Anne, carrying a coil of rope to which was
attached a claw-like instrument that had been the business end of a
grubbing fork. Marilla and Anne stood by, cold and shaken with horror
and dread, while Mr. Barry dragged the well, and Davy, astride the gate,
watched the group with a face indicative of huge enjoyment.

Finally Mr. Barry shook his head, with a relieved air.

"She can't be down there. It's a mighty curious thing where she could
have got to, though. Look here, young man, are you sure you've no idea
where your sister is?"

"I've told you a dozen times that I haven't," said Davy, with an injured
air. "Maybe a tramp come and stole her."

"Nonsense," said Marilla sharply, relieved from her horrible fear of
the well. "Anne, do you suppose she could have strayed over to Mr.
Harrison's? She has always been talking about his parrot ever since that
time you took her over."

"I can't believe Dora would venture so far alone but I'll go over