CHAPTER XIX

ON THE TRAIL

Flossie, Freddie and Nan were sobbing now. Their tears fell thick and fast and they wailed aloud.

“Children! Children! Be quiet!” ordered Mrs. Bobbsey. “What does it all mean? Baby May can’t have been taken. The carriage has been in plain sight all the while. She’s probably under the covers, Nan! Don’t be silly!”

“I’m not si-si-silly, Mother! Baby May’s gone! I—I felt under the covers and she—she isn’t there.”

“I—I can’t feel her to-toes!” sobbed Flossie, her hand in the lower end of the carriage.

By this time Mrs. Bobbsey herself had made sure there was no baby in the carriage. She took out all the coverings.

“She must have tumbled out and crawled away,” she said. “She can’t be gone! Look in the grass and bushes, children!”

“Wouldn’t she cry if she fell out?” Freddie wanted to know. He had stopped crying when his mother came along.

“She might not cry if she fell on soft leaves and didn’t hurt herself,” answered Mrs. Bobbsey. “Look carefully, children!”

But all the looking in the world would not have found Baby May just then, and it did not take Mrs. Bobbsey long to make certain that the infant was not around the carriage.

“Well, the worst has happened,” she said, and there was the sound of tears in her own voice. “Baby May didn’t fall out. She was taken away!”

“I said she was kidnapped!” declared Nan. “Soon as I didn’t see her in the carriage and didn’t feel her, I knew she was kidnapped! Oh, Mother! what are we going to do? Poor Baby May!”

“I—I want her back!” sobbed Flossie.

“It was that old woman—that old woman with the green umbrella!” exclaimed Freddie. “She took May off, I know she did!”

“I’m beginning to believe so,” said Mrs. Bobbsey. “We must do something at once. Call your father, Nan—oh, never mind. Here he comes now!”

Mr. Bobbsey had gone in the house after Nan and the children had departed with their cookies, and now he came out on the porch again. Seeing his wife and the children gathered around the carriage he seemed to guess that something was wrong.

“Has anything happened?” he asked, as he hurried across the grass. “Did May fall out? Why, where is she?” he asked, seeing Nan wheeling the empty carriage.

“Oh, Richard!” sobbed Mrs. Bobbsey, “the little one is gone—kidnapped!”

“No! It isn’t possible! Under our very eyes! How could it happen?” Mr. Bobbsey asked.

“I don’t know,” his wife said. “But she’s gone. The old woman must have sneaked up between the time the children left the carriage to get the cookies and the time they went back.”

“Then she must have been hiding around here, waiting for just such a chance,” declared Mr. Bobbsey. “This is too much! I must notify the police at once. An alarm must be sent out and we must get on the trail of this person. I believe she is crazy! She ought not to be allowed at large with a baby!”

“Will she—will she hurt Baby May?” asked Flossie, alarmed by her father’s excitement.

Then, as his wife made him a signal to be more careful, so as not to frighten the children, Mr. Bobbsey said:

“Oh, no, I don’t believe the old woman will hurt May. She must love her a great deal to want to take her away. But anybody who will leave an infant on the steps in a thunder storm shouldn’t be allowed to have charge of children. I’ll get the police after her at once.”

It was one thing to speak about getting the police to work, but it was quite another thing to do this. In the quiet little hamlet of Pine Hill there were no regular police officers—only a constable or two and a justice of the peace.

“But Jim Denton is pretty smart,” said Mr. Meekin, when he and his wife had been told of the terrible happening. “I had a horse stolen once, and Jim got it back for me in less than a week. I’ll telephone him.”

“Say, Dad, can’t you and I take the trail after this old woman ourselves?” asked Bert, in a whisper of his father, while Mr. Meekin was at the telephone, calling up the constable.

“Yes, I intend to do what I can,” answered Mr. Bobbsey. “I’ll take the auto and ride along every road I think the old woman must have taken. And you may go with me, Bert.”

“Oh, do you think that will be wise?” asked his wife, overhearing what was said.

“Yes,” her husband answered. “Bert will be a help to me. We may have to be gone all night.”

Bert’s eyes sparkled with pleasure as his father said this. It might be a great adventure!

“Bert, you must take good care of yourself,” said his mother anxiously. “I wouldn’t have anything happen to you for the world!”

“Oh, I’ll be all right, don’t worry,” returned the son, with all the confidence of a growing boy.

“But that woman may not be as nice as you think. For all we know, she may be crazy and liable to do any wicked thing,” remarked Mrs. Meekin.

“I’ll keep my eyes open,” declared Bert sturdily.

“Jim’ll be right over in his car,” said Mr. Meekin, as he hung up the telephone. “And while we’re waiting, let’s look the ground over and see what happened.”

“And you must have supper—I’ll get it ready right away,” said Mrs. Meekin. “Land sakes! To think of such things happening! My goodness!”

She bustled off to get the meal, which was almost ready, and Mr. Bobbsey, with Bert and Mr. Meekin, went to the place where the carriage had been left for just a few minutes alone with Baby May in it. And yet those few minutes were enough for the kidnapping to have taken place.

That it was a kidnapping—and done by the strange old woman in the faded shawl and with the green umbrella—all were now certain. Of course no one had seen her, but everything pointed to her.

“She just waited her chance and then sneaked up,” said Bert.

That seemed to have been the manner of it. The back of the carriage was turned toward the house, to keep the sun out of May’s eyes as she lay asleep. It would have been an easy matter for the old woman—or any one else—to have sneaked up and taken the baby. She could lift the child, asleep as she was, out of the carriage under the cover of the hood, and the children and Mr. and Mrs. Bobbsey on the porch could not see this take place.

“Well, I can’t see anything here,” said Mr. Meekin, looking all around the carriage.

“Nor I,” agreed Mr. Bobbsey.

“Let’s take a look up and down the road,” suggested Bert.

But nothing was in sight—no one in view. This was not strange, as there were trees and bushes on either side of the highway, and it would have been an easy matter for the kidnapper to have concealed herself in these for a moment, or longer, and then to have taken some hidden path.

“Well, we must get on the trail at once,” said Mr. Bobbsey. “You have the police, or whoever does such things, send out a general alarm, Mr. Meekin. Bert and I will start off in our car, and when Jim Denton comes, he can do his part.”

“Jim’s pretty good,” repeated Mr. Meekin. “He got back my horse.”

Mrs. Meekin had supper ready in a “jiffy,” as she called it. The meal was not quite over when some one was heard running up the side porch. It was some one in a hurry, that was very plain.