The long, delightful days of summer stretched before the happy tourists in Mary Louise’s car. Every day seemed to beckon them on to further adventure, and each evening found them further along in their journey, weary and eager for rest, but expectant of the morrow. Often Mary Louise and Danny spoke in low tones to one another of the kindly man they were hastening to help. They had much to say in these days of happy, intimate companionship—much to tell each other of their hopes and aims, their likes and dislikes. They were very young and filled with the joy and wonder of mere living, and though often they were longing to know of O’Hara’s safety, still their spirits could not be dampened, and their happiness soared very high.

To Colonel Hathaway, the changing scenes and the changing personalities along the way were like a tonic.

The old gentleman was a born traveler and always took the rough places with the smooth, so that he made a splendid companion with whom to take the road. On this trip he was thoroughly enjoying the ecstasy with which Irene greeted every lovely scene they passed. Her cheeks were taking on a healthy flush that made the dear friends with her very glad, and day by day they all could see how she was gaining strength.

So on they went as day by day their car carried them across uplands and through valleys, now humming for miles through waving fields of grain, and again running through the lowlands near some river bed. One State after another they left behind as the days sped by, and always some new beauty lay before them.

Old Uncle Eben carefully forwarded all their mail, and each day Danny and Mary Louise watched eagerly for some word from O’Hara. But each day they were doomed to disappointment. The letters which came frequently from Josie, however, kept up their hopes mightily. Crocker, it seemed, had returned East disgustedly, but Josie was each day scouring the country in some new direction. One day when they had reached a spot not far from Albuquerque Mary Louise opened a letter from Josie, as she was rocking on the wide veranda of the hotel in the twilight.

Josie had scrawled on bright pink paper:

“Dearest Mary Louise:

“If you only knew how happy and glad and generally rejoicey I am to think that you and Grandpa Jim and Irene will be with me in two days! I’ve been hot and homesick ever since I came, but now I do believe it’s going to be worth while to have stayed.

“There’s a small ranch out about forty miles from here. It’s the mystery of the countryside, though there’s nothing ever seemed wrong with it, and O’Callahan, the little Irish detective, swears there’s nothing wrong. You see, they have two men besides the ‘Boss’—one, a huge, criminal-looking creature, and the other, a little Jap. The other evening I motored out that way and when the boss and his wife were out in front I saw through my field glasses that three men entered the kitchen!

“Now that looks strange to me. O’Callahan has always scoffed at our going there as nonsense, but to-morrow, willy-nilly, Josie O’Gorman is going out to that place and ferret out that man. Who knows when you come on the next day my work may be done, and oh, won’t I jump at the chance of going on with you on your perfectly grand trip? Devotedly,

“Josie.”

Mary Louise silently handed the letter to Danny who sat on the veranda steps at her feet. Danny Dexter glanced over the letter and then up at Mary Louise. Their thoughts were evidently alike for both exclaimed in unison: “We’ll have to travel to-night.”

“And start immediately,” added Mary Louise.

Then without further pause, Danny leaped down the steps and out to the automobile to prepare it for the long and sudden trip before them.

“It’s seven now,” thought Danny, glancing at the auto clock. “With luck we’ll get there by two to-morrow morning. It won’t really be so bad, and the moon is full.”

In the meantime Mary Louise had hastened to her grandfather. “Grandpa Jim, don’t put on those comfortable old slippers. I’ve received a letter from Josie. She expects to catch her forger to-morrow, and,” she truthfully added, “I feel sure we will be needed.” The Colonel was instantly solicitous for Josie, of whom he was especially fond and whose activity he admired immensely.

“But,” he objected, “can we possibly make it through the night; and what about Irene?” Mary Louise flung her arms about her grandfather’s neck. “I knew just how game you would be!” she declared. “I’ve been thinking about Irene. The wife of the proprietor seems very kind, and I’m sure she’ll start her safely on the train to Albuquerque in the morning.”

Her surmise proved to be correct, and half an hour later the automobile started off.

So it happened that next morning as she entered the dining room of the hotel, Josie’s joy quite flew away with her, as she beheld the tired but victorious faces of her three friends beaming up at her.

“Why—why—you blessed people! How very dear of you to come and go with me to-day,” she stammered. “With Mary Louise to help, I just can’t lose that man again.”

Josie clapped her hands in enthusiasm, and then dug with such unbounded energy into the grapefruit at her plate that her “dear friends” blinked and ducked with great agility. “Grandpa Jim must go to bed this minute, but we’re ready to go right away,” directed Mary Louise. A few minutes later she kissed the kindly Colonel and watched him mount the stairs. Then turning, she joined Danny and Josie O’Gorman who were already climbing into the waiting auto.

O’Callahan was at the wheel with a tall policeman seated beside him, while Josie, Mary Louise and Danny were seated in the tonneau. Both Mary Louise and Danny must have dozed after their long night ride, for they woke with a start as the automobile slowed down in front of the Brown bungalow.

As Danny stepped from the car he stooped and quietly picked up a small gold pencil half buried in the sand; he knew the pencil and the monogram “J. O’H.” O’Hara had dropped it as he left the automobile that first day and had failed to find it when he searched for it. Clearly then, the uncle that he loved was here and in sure danger.

All that Danny could do was to keep still and watch. And watch he did to no avail. The place was searched from top to bottom. The Browns were graciousness itself, accepting Josie’s apologies for intruding with amusement.

“You are afraid some man is hidden here?” the woman had inquired of the girls, a faint sneer upon her beautiful mouth.

“I shall have to ask you to let us investigate thoroughly,” returned Josie decidedly, and the woman smilingly stepped aside.

Then she shrugged her shoulders. “You see we have no secrets,” she said.