As fer us,--we've no call to know." "Now, that's well said!" exclaimed Mr.Bryant, holding out his hand to the old man.

"And, for the present, we're going to take you at your word.

If you agree, we're going to take this little girl right off with us, because her mother is anxiously awaiting news of her safety.

And perhaps, sometime later, we'll explain matters fully to you.

Meantime, I hope you'll permit us to leave with you a little expression of our appreciation of your real kindness to our darling, and our gratitude at her recovery." A few whispered words passed between the two gentlemen, and then, after a moment's manipulation of his fountain pen and checkbook, Mr.Bryant handed to old Zeb Geary a slip of paper that took his breath away.
"I can't rightly thank you, sir," he said, brokenly; "I done no more'n my duty; but if so be's you feel to give me this, I kin only say, Bless ye fer yer goodness to them that has need!" "That's all right, Mr.Geary," said Cousin Jack, touched by the old man's emotion; "and now, Ed, let's be going." Mrs.Geary brought Marjorie's hat and her little purse, and in another moment they were flying along the country road toward Newark.
Marjorie said nothing at all, but cuddled into her father's arm, and now and then drew long, deep sighs, as if still troubled.
But he only held her closer, and murmured words of endearment, leaving her undisturbed by questions about her strange conduct.
In Newark they telephoned the joyful news to Mrs.Maynard, and then took the first train to Seacote.
All through the two-hour ride, Marjorie slept peacefully, with her father's arm protectingly round her.
The two men said little, being too thankful that their quest was successfully ended.
"But I think her mind is all right," whispered Mr.Maynard, as Mr.
Bryant leaned over from the seat behind.