That was what this meant.

All right, he would hunt Lacy as soon as he was ready to do so; and, as Timmons suggested, would go "heeled." But the girl?
What had really become of the girl?
There was no way of proving she had not gone East, for there was no agent at the station at that hour, and the night train could be halted by any one waving a signal light.

Westcott drew the brief note from his pocket, smoothed out its creases and read the few words over again.

The writing was unquestionably feminine, and he could recall seeing nothing Miss Donovan had ever indited, with which it could be compared.

But would she have departed, however hurriedly, without leaving him some message?
To be sure there had been little enough between them of intimacy or understanding; nothing he could really construe into a promise--yet he had given her complete trust, and had felt a friendly response.