"She found my little girl that was lost." The conductor nodded affably as the train rolled out.
Wollaston Lee had gone home when the others descended the stairs and crossed to the other track.

When Harry, with Evelyn in his arms, her limp little legs dangling, and Maria and Gladys, were on their way home, the question, which he in his confusion had not thought to put before, came.
"Why, Maria, where did you come from ?" he asked.
"From New York," replied Maria, meekly.
"Her and me went up to her ma-in-law's cousin's, on Forty-ninth Street, to find the kid," Gladys cut in, glibly, "but the cousin had moved." Harry stared at them.

"Why, how happened you to do such a thing ?" he asked.
"I couldn't wait home and not do anything," Maria sobbed, nervously.
"Her ma-in-law's cousin had moved," said Gladys.
"How did you find your way ?" "I had been there before," sobbed Maria.

She felt for her father's hand, and grasped it with a meaning of trust and fear which he did not understand.
"Well, you must never do such a thing again, no matter what happens," he said, and held the poor little girl's hand firmly.

"Thank God father's got you both back safe and sound." Gladys made an abrupt departure on a corner.
"Good-night, M'ria!" she sung out, and was gone, a slim, flying figure in the gloom.
"Are you afraid to go alone ?" Harry called after her, in some uncertainty.
"Land, no!" came cheerily back.
"How happened she to be with you ?" asked Harry.
"She was down at the station when I came home from Wardway," replied Maria, faintly.