"No, no!" exclaimed Mollie. "She was reading that old journal when we went down. We left her sitting right there. Don't you remember, you asked us to call Barbara downstairs? You wanted to see the diary of old Mr. Presby, and Ruth went upstairs to call her."

"Yes, yes. Ruth, how do you know that Barbara was here when you called to her?"

"Because she answered me," replied Ruth.

"What next? Did her voice sound as if she were here in the attic?"

"Yes. I know she was here."

"Was that when you cried out?"

"No. That awful crash came a few seconds after she had answered me. I ran up here as fast as my feet would carry me. At first the dust was so thick I was unable to make out anything clearly. I called to Bab but she did not answer me. I then ran about the room in search of her, thinking that she had fallen and hurt herself. But she wasn't here," wailed Ruth.

"Oh, what shall I do?"

"Calm yourself. That is the first thing to be done. There is something mysterious about this. I wish Bob Stevens were here."

"I sent Tom for him. Did you see Mr. Stevens, Tom?"

"No. I sent word by one of the hired hands," admitted Tom sheepishly.

"I--I wanted to do some work in the cellar."

"Then go at once," commanded Mr. Presby sternly.

"Wait!" exclaimed Ruth. "I'll drive the car, storm or no storm. The cold air will help me to brace up. How far is it to Mr. Stevens' house?"

"Mile and a half," answered Tom.

"Come with me, Tommy. We will be there and back in twenty minutes. Do you know the way?"

"Yes, he knows the way. He knows too much about everything in these parts," answered Mr. Presby testily. "I will telephone to Mr. Stuart."

"Oh, don't, please. At least--not un--until I get back. Per--perhaps Mr.

Stevens may find her."

"He will, if anyone can," declared Olive. Everyone in the room was overwhelmed with the mystery of it all. That a person could disappear so completely from a room that had only one entrance and with that entrance guarded at the moment pa.s.sed all comprehension.

Once more Mollie set herself to examining every nook and corner of the room. She even raised the lids of the closed trunks and chests, thinking that possibly Barbara might have hidden in one of them. There was no trace whatever of the missing girl.

"Has anyone found the diary?" questioned Olive.

"Could it be that she fell through a trap in the floor?" queried Grace.

"There are no traps in the floor," answered Mr. Presby sharply.

"If there were, and Bab had fallen in, she would have dropped into one of our rooms," explained Olive. "I believe I will go all over the house," she decided as an afterthought.

"We will go with you," declared Grace. "Oh, Bab, Bab; where are you?"

Grace broke into a paroxysm of heart-breaking sobs. This was too much for Mollie, who began sobbing also.

"Come, come, girls; this won't do," chided Olive. "We must keep our heads clear. Something has happened to Bab, but I'll venture to say that she is all right, no matter where she is."

"But--but if she _is_ all right, why doesn't she call to us?" questioned Mollie, gazing at Olive through her tears.

Olive was unable to answer that question. The same thought had occurred to her. Now Mr. Presby began thumping the sides of the room with his cane. They understood his purpose and waited in breathless silence until he had gone all the way around the room.

"All sounds alike," he announced. "I didn't know but there might be another of those secret pa.s.sages up here. I see, however, that it is not possible. Come, there is nothing to be gained by remaining here. Come, Mollie. Do not take it too much to heart," soothed Mr. Presby.

Mollie was now leaning against the wall with head buried in her arms, crying softly. The others had started for the stairway. A servant came up the stairs and announced that Ruth had telephoned from the Stevens place saying that Bob Stevens had gone to Bright.w.a.ters, and that she was going there to find him.

"Good gracious! What was that?" screamed Mrs. Presby, gripping her husband's arm with both hands as a mighty crash shook the building. A violent current of air smote them, another cloud of suffocating dust filled the air.

"Mollie's gone, too!" screamed Grace Carter.

CHAPTER XIV

TOMMY TAKES A WILD RIDE

FOR a moment the little group stood regarding one another in horror-stricken silence, then by common consent they all made for the stairway. Mr. Presby was half carrying, half dragging his wife, who was in a state of collapse. All had lost their heads completely. They did not know at what moment that terrible mysterious force might whisk them all out of existence. Instead of remaining calmly to solve the reason for Mollie's disappearance before their very eyes, all hands were fleeing from the scene of the double disaster. Mollie had not even cried out. She had simply gone, followed by that mighty crash. That was all they knew about it.

They did not halt until they had reached the ground floor, where Mr.

Presby called a servant to summon the neighbors and summon them quickly.

Fifteen minutes later the neighbors began to arrive. With them were two or three strangers, whose offers to join in the search through the house Mr. Presby politely declined, as he was suspicious of all strangers.

Those of the neighbors who were friends of long standing were given free rein to search the house and grounds as thoroughly as they wished.

They took full advantage of the opportunity, delving into every nook and corner.

In the meantime Ruth Stuart with the shivering Tommy by her side was driving her automobile across the country. There was no storm curtain in place now. Even the wind shield had been turned down because the snow clouded it so Ruth could not get a clear sight ahead. As it was, she could see no more than a rod or two in advance. She took the storm full on the right side of her face. The girl's eyes and nerves were steady now. Her touch on the steering wheel was light, for at that speed a heavy hand might have ditched the outfit.

Country people on the road were startled by a rush of wind and a shadowy monster shooting past them with a snort, occasionally sending their horses off the highway in frightened leaps. But Ruth Stuart's eyes never wavered from the straight path ahead. Evidently she had forgotten her promise to herself to drive with her car under more perfect control.

Every ounce of speed that Mr. A. Bubble possessed was being used on the present run.

Tommy's eyes were full of snow, his lips were blue, his hands were gripping the cushions until he had no feeling left in them.

"Tell me when we get near to the place," commanded Ruth in a sharp, incisive tone.

"Ju-s-s-st around the nu-nu-next turn," chattered Thomas. "He's at Martin's ranch."

Ruth turned the air into her siren. A wild, weird wail rose from the horn. Tommy shivered more than ever. That sound always did make the hair rise right up on the crown of his head. Ruth kept the siren going.

Rounding the bend at top speed, her siren wailing, she made enough noise to be plainly heard above the storm. Taking careful note of her position, she ran up the drive into the yard, slowing down just as she saw two men come from the house bare-headed.

"Jump in, quick!" she cried to Bob Stevens. "Trouble!"

Bob was quick-witted. He understood that something was wrong. He caught one of the canopy braces and swung himself in over the closed door.

The car was still in motion. Without a word of further explanation, Ruth advanced her spark. When they rounded into the road the snow from the skidding rear wheels flew up into the air higher than the peak of Jud Martin's hip-roofed barn. Stevens instinctively gripped the automobile body.