“Oh, the dear baby!” cooed Yellow Star, presently, lifting a corner of the shawl and looking closely at the little olive face. “But he doesn’t look well!” she exclaimed, anxiously.
“He is sick for two days now, and I know not what to do, for we must travel all time and it is so bad for him,” grieved the mother, looking at her with the pleading black eyes of a hurt animal. “My husband, Young Eagle, he say it is nothing; but me, I not like to dress him up and take around for the white people to stare at when he is sick.”
“Take him back to your tent, now, or wherever you stay, and bring Young Eagle to me. I will talk to him,” flashed Yellow Star, and she turned to her party with an impulsive:
“I must go with her for a little while, please: she is my friend; she is in trouble and among strangers.”
“I’ll go with you, dear,” put in Miss Morrison, quickly. “We will meet you at the station, Mrs. Brown; or no—I must take an earlier train; but there is time to go with Stella and the baby first—” and before any one could speak they were all three lost in the crowd, followed by admiring and envious glances from Cynthia and Doris, who fancied that a glimpse behind the scenes must hold more of wonder and romance than all the rest.
Neither Stella nor her teacher was at the station when the others arrived, and after a thorough search took the 5.40 train, remembering that Miss Morrison had said something about an engagement, and having to leave early, and in any case she would surely have kept Stella with her.
Great was the consternation, therefore, when they reached Laurel and found that Mrs. Waring had seen or heard nothing of her “little girl,” while a telephone message to Miss Morrison disclosed the fact that she had been obliged to hurry away and leave Stella with her new-found friends, who were to see that she met her party at the station in time for the 5.40.
The long, hot, dusty day was sinking into twilight, and the precious waif last seen with a travelling show, in a strange city twenty miles from home! Miss Morrison was conscience-smitten, Lucy Waring in tears, in which Cynthia and Doris were quite ready to join, and poor Mrs. Brown all but overcome by this unexpected ending to their exciting day.