He told the two babes in the wood that such t'ings
happened constant, and the goil would toin up in no time. He sent
out a general alarm.
Mrs. Thropp told him the whole story, putting all the blame on
her husband with such enthusiasm that the sympathy of everybody
went out to him. Everybody included a number of reporters who
asked Mrs. Thropp questions and particularly desired a photograph
of Kedzie.
Mrs. Thropp confessed that she had not brought any along. She
had never dreamed that the girl would run away. If she had have,
she wouldn't have brought the girl along, to say nothing of
her photograph.
The amiable walrus in the cap and brass buttons recommended the
Thropps to a boarding-house whose prices were commensurate with
Adna's ideas and means, and he and his wife went thither, where
they told a shabby and sentimental landlady all their troubles.
She reassured them as best she could, and made a cup of tea for
Mrs. Thropp and told Mr. Thropp there was a young fellow lived in
the house who was working for a private detective bureau. He'd
find the kid sure, for it was a small woild, after all.
There was a lull in the European-war news the next day--only a few
hundreds killed in an interchange of trenches. There was a dearth
of big local news also. So the morning papers all gave Kedzie Thropp
the hospitality of their head-lines. The illustrated journals
published what they said was her photograph. No two of the
photographs were alike, but they were all pretty.
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