"I cannot wait till afternoon; I shall try to reach him by telephone or go to his home." At length he learned that the conductor lived in Asbury Park.

He was off duty at that hour, and Mr.Maynard tried to get him by telephone, but the line was out of order.
"To his house we go, then," and the two men boarded the first possible train.
At Asbury Park they found his house, but the conductor's wife, Mrs.
Fischer, said her husband was asleep and she never disturbed him at that hour of the day, as he had a long run before him, and needed his rest.
But after a few words of explanation of their quest, the good lady became sympathetic and helpful.
"Of course I'll call him," she cried; "oh, the poor mother! my heart aches for her!" Mr.Fischer came downstairs, rubbing his eyes.

It was about noon, and he was accustomed to sleep soundly until two o'clock.
"Why, yes," he said, in answer to their queries.

"I remember that girl.
I didn't think much about her,--for a good many children travel alone between stations on the shore road.

But, somehow, I don't think that child went to New York,--no, I don't think she did." "Where did she get off ?" asked Mr.Maynard, eagerly.
"Ah, that I don't know.