"Then where..."

"I don't--know."

"She's out there alone," said Bonbright, dully. "She's been out there alone--all these months. She's so little.... What made her go away?...

Something has happened to her...."

"Haven't you had any word--anything?" Dulac was becoming frightened himself.

"Nothing--nothing."

Bonbright leaped to his feet and took two steps forward and two back.

"I've got to know," he said. "She must be found.... Anything could have happened...."

"It's up to us to find her," said Dulac, unconsciously, intuitively coupling himself with Bonbright. They were comrades in this thing. The anxiety was equally theirs.

"Yes.... Yes."

"She wasn't the kind of a girl to--"

"No," said Bonbright, quickly, as if afraid to hear Dulac say the words, "she wouldn't do THAT.... Maybe she's just hiding away--or hurt--or sick. I've got to know."

"Call back the boys.... Let's get this conference over so we can get at it."

Bonbright nodded, and Dulac stepped to the door. The men re-entered.

"Now, gentlemen," said Bonbright.

"We just came to put the question to you squarely, Mr. Foote. We represent all the trades working on the new buildings. Are you going to recognize the unions?"

"No," said Bonbright.

"More than half the men on the job are union."

"They're welcome to stay," said Bonbright.

"Well, they won't stay," said the spokesman. "We've fiddled along with this thing, and the boys are mighty impatient. This is our last word, Mr. Foote. Recognize the unions or we'll call off our men."

Bonbright stood up. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," said he.

With angry faces they tramped out, all but Dulac, who stopped in the door. "I'm going to look for her," he said.

"If you find anything--hear anything--"

Dulac nodded. "I'll let you know," he said.

"I'll be--searching, too," said Bonbright. Mershon came in. "Here's a letter--" he began.

Bonbright shook his head. "Attend to it--whatever it is. I'm going out.

I don't know when I shall be back.... You have full authority. ..."

He all but rushed from the room, and Mershon stared after him in amazement. Bonbright did not know where he was going, what he was going to do. There was no plan, but his need was action. He must be doing something, searching.... But as he got into his machine he recognized the futility of aimlessness. There was a way of going about such things.... He must be calm. He must enlist aid.

Suddenly he thought of Hilda Lightener. He had not seen her for weeks.

She had been close to Ruth; perhaps she knew something. He drove to the Lightener residence and asked for her. Hilda was at home.

"She's LOST," said Bonbright, as Hilda came into the room.

"What? Who are you talking about?"

"'Ruth.... She's not with Dulac. He doesn't know where she is; she was never with him."

"Did you think she was?" Hilda said, accusingly. "You--you're so--Oh, the pair of you!"

"Do you know where she is?"

"I haven't seen nor heard of her since the day--your father died."

"Something must have happened.... She wouldn't have gone away like that--without telling anybody, even her mother...."

"She would," said Hilda. "She--she was hurt. She couldn't bear to stay.

She didn't tell me that, but I know.... And it's your fault for--for being blind."

"I don't understand."

"She loved you," said Hilda, simply. "No.... She told me. She never--loved--me. It was him. She married me to--"

"I know what she married you for. I know all about it.... And she thought she loved him. She found out she didn't. But I knew it for a long time," Hilda said, womanlike, unable to resist the temptation to boast of her intuition. "It all came to her that day--and she was going to tell you.... She was going to do that--going to go to you and tell you and ask you to take her back.... She said she'd make you believe her...."

"No," said Bonbright, "you're--mistaken, Hilda. She was my wife.... I know how she felt. She couldn't bear to have me pa.s.s close to her. ..."

"It IS true," Hilda said. "She was going to you.... And then I came and told her your father was dead.... That made it all impossible, don't you see?... Because you knew why she had married you, and you would believe she came back to you because--you owned the mills and employed all those men.... That's what you WOULD have believed, too. ..."

"Yes," said Bonbright.

"And then--it was more than she could bear. To know she loved you and had loved you a long time--and that you loved her. You do, don't you?"

"I can't--help it."

"So that made it worse than anything that had gone before--and she went away. She didn't tell even me, but I ought to have known...."

"And you haven't even a trace?"

"Bonbright, if you find her--what?"

"I don't know.... I've just got to find her. I've got to know what's happened...."

"Are you going to tell her you love her--and take her back?"