"
That weird cry on the lonely meadow came back to him with
startling distinctness.
"Come on, Mr. Damon!" cried Tom, in a voice he tried to make
cheerful. "We'll find that Mr. Nestor is probably walking along,
carrying his disabled bicycle instead of having it carry him.
We'll soon have him safe back to you," he called to the two
women.
"I wish I could go with you, and help search," observed Mary.
"Oh, I couldn't bear to be left alone!" exclaimed her mother.
"We'll telephone as soon as we find him," called Tom to Mrs.
Nestor, as he and Mr. Damon again got into the runabout and
started away from the place.
"What do you think of it, Tom?" asked the eccentric man, when
they were once more on the road.
"Why, nothing much--as yet," Tom said. "That is, I think
nothing more than a simple accident has happened, if, indeed, it
is anything more than that he has delayed to talk to some
friends."
"Would he delay this long?"
"I don't know."
"And then, Tom--bless my spectacles! what of that cry we heard?
Could that have been Mr. Nestor?"
There! It was out! The suspicion that Tom had been trying to
keep his mind away from came to the fore.
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