ne cones or things like that."

A lump came in Midget's throat, as she remembered how often she had
"decorated" with these things in honor of some gay festivity at home.

Oh, what were they doing there, now? Had they missed her? Would they
look for her? They _never_ could find her tucked away here in the
country.

And Kitty! What _would_ she say when she heard of it? And _all_ of them!
And Mother,--_Mother_!

But all this heart outcry was silent. Her kind old friends heard no word
or murmur of complaint or dissatisfaction. If the forlorn old house were
distasteful to Marjorie, she didn't show it; if her room seemed to her
uninhabitable, nobody knew it from her. She ran out to the fields, and
returned with an armful of ox-eyed daisies, and bunches of clover; and,
with some grapevine trails, she made a real transformation of the dingy,
bare walls.

"Well, I swan!" Mr. Geary said, when he saw it; and his wife exclaimed,
"My stars!"

CHAPTER XI

THE REUNION

After leaving the conductor's house in Asbury Park, Mr. Maynard and Mr.
Bryant went to a telephone office, and pursued the plan of calling up
every railroad station along the road between Seacote and New York.

But no good news was the result. It was difficult to get speech with the
station men, and none of them especially remembered seeing a little girl
of Marjorie's description get off the train.

"What can we do next?" asked Mr. Maynard, dejectedly; "I can't go home
and sit down to wait for police investigation. I doubt if they could
ever find Marjorie. I _must_ do something."

"It seems a formidable undertaking," said Mr. Bryant, "to go to each of
these way stations; and yet, Ed, I can't think of anything else to do.
We have traced her to the train, and on it. She must have left it
somewhere, and we must discover where."

Mr. Maynard looked at his watch.

"Jack," he said, "it is nearly time for that very train to stop here.
Let us get on that, and we may get some word of her from the trainmen
other than the conductor."

"Good idea! and meanwhile we'll have just time to snatch a sandwich
somewhere; which we'd better do, as you've eaten nothing since
breakfast."

"Neither have you, old chap; come on."

After a hasty luncheon, the two men boarded at Asbury Park, the same
train which Marjorie had taken at Seacote the day before. Conductor
Fischer greeted them, and called his trainmen, one by one, to be
questioned.

"Sure!" said one of the