He had his lunch and then went up to his den to get suinc of his football togs. When he came down his mother told him that the village sewing circle was to meet at the house that afternoon. They would arrange for the comfort and safety of Mary in some way, she said.
As Bob started from the house he saw Mary seated in the little summer-house, looking over some pretty pieces of silk like a pleased child, and singing to herself in a happy, contented way.
"I've got lots of time," said Bob to himself, as he walked down the street, "but I'll get to the field early, so as to have a talk about the game with Dave."
"Oh, Bob! Bob!" called out a hurried voice, as he was passing a neat little cottage, setting somewhat back from the street.
Its owner and tenant, Miss Simmons, the prim old maid of the village, came out to the gate. She looked worried.
"Bob, will you do me a favor?" she asked, in an excited way.
"I'll be glad to, Miss Simmons," replied Bob.
"Well, my little nephew Walter has been staying with me for a few days. He has been missing for over an hour. I thought he was playing with some neighbors' children, but I find that none of them has seen him."
"Oh, he's safe somewhere," said Bob, seeing how nervous and frightened the old maid was.
"Won't you please try and find him?"
"Of course I will," replied Bob, promptly. "I'll look myself, and if I don't find him I'll get the other boys to join in the search."
"Oh, thank you, thank you," said Miss Simmons.
Bob turned around to start down the street, when he chanced to look ahead of him.
