CHAPTER XVI

The Missing Children

“Rama!” Peter exclaimed with satisfaction. “Now we’re getting somewhere, Angel. If we can just make sure this is not the ‘green doll’ that was stolen from Mrs. Riker—”

“I’m almost sure it isn’t,” Judy exclaimed. “When Penny was talking about it, she kept referring to the dolly as ‘she,’ and this little idol is the figure of a young man. Besides, Peter,” she added excitedly, “when I was trying to think of the name of the Destroyer, Penny said the name was Sita. Then she said, ‘Oh, no, that was the name of the—’ and her mother made her be quiet. Oh dear,” she finished mournfully, “we found Rama and lost Sita, and they should always be together.”

“Perhaps they will be, Angel, soon,” Peter promised mysteriously.

Judy eyed him curiously. “Don’t answer this if it’s confidential information,” she began carefully, “but I’m just dying to know why it makes a difference whether this green doll is the one Helen Riker had, or not.”

“I can’t answer your question specifically, Angel,” Peter said slowly. “But I can tell you one thing, because it will be released to the papers tomorrow anyway. There may not have been a robbery at all.”

“Peter!” Judy stared. “What do you mean? The art treasures are gone, aren’t they?”

“They were,” Peter said. “But we learned today that the Montrose Moving and Storage Company received an order to move the stuff to their warehouse on Thursday evening. The order is supposed to have come from Paul Riker. My theory is that the old man saw the forest fire spreading in the direction of his house, and wanted to save his treasures. However, the insurance people take a different view. They point out that although the house did burn down, the forest fire was not the cause. In fact, the burned area around the site of the Riker mansion was what stopped the spread of the forest fire in that direction. They think Mr. Riker wanted to ‘have his cake and eat it too,’ as the saying goes.”

“Peter!” Judy’s eyes were snapping with excitement. “Do you mean to tell me all those things have been sitting in a warehouse while everyone has been trying to catch the robbers? But you yourself said only this evening that you are on the trail of a number of green dolls. Oh,” she gasped, as the thought struck her, “that must mean the jade collection isn’t—”

She stopped suddenly as Peter put a gentle hand over her mouth.

“I wouldn’t have been able to answer your next question, Angel,” he said, laughing at her startled expression, “so let’s change the subject.”

“All right, Peter,” Judy laughed too, “at least we have one real robbery left—those men who held up Helen Riker. Peter, they must have been the moving men! Honey recognized one of them.”

“There’s undoubtedly some connection, and we’ll investigate it,” Peter said. “But I don’t think it’s quite as simple as it sounds.”

“You mean, there’s Helen Riker herself? I told her I was afraid I’d caught the victim instead of the robbers. And do you know what she said, Peter? She said, ‘You may have caught them both.’ But she couldn’t be involved in a robbery that didn’t happen.”

“If that was a piece of stolen jade she was carrying around with her, she’s going to have a hard time proving her innocence,” declared Peter.

“Somehow, I can’t believe she’s really guilty,” Judy murmured.

“Perhaps not,” Peter said, “but we both know she’s holding something back. And if her husband was this millionaire’s nephew, why was she driving a fifteen-year-old car hardly fit for the road?”

“Horace told you about the car, didn’t he?”

“Yes, and I mean to have a look at it. There’s still a lot we don’t know.”

“And a lot I’m too sleepy to think about. There was one more thing I wanted to tell you.”

“Good night, maybe?” Peter laughed. “I’m ready to turn in myself as soon as I run downstairs and make a couple of telephone calls.”

“At this hour?”

Peter laughed. “I won’t wake anybody up. I’ll put out Blackberry and lock up. By then you may have thought of it.”

He returned a few minutes later. Judy was still awake. She said a little drowsily, “I know what it was. I wanted to tell you how she described her uncle’s house, the quiet and everything, almost as if she used to live there, but how could that be? Paul Riker was her husband’s uncle, not hers.”

“You knew my grandparents when I was a little boy,” Peter reminded her.

“That’s true. She must have lived near them. But there are no other houses near by except the caretaker’s cottage. Could she have been the caretaker’s little girl?”

“Why don’t you ask her?” Peter suggested.

Judy said she would first thing in the morning. But morning brought new problems. Mrs. Riker woke everybody up screaming that the children were missing.

“I found a doll in Penny’s bed,” she wailed. “It was put there as a warning—”

“It was put there as a surprise,” Judy told her. “I tiptoed in and put it there myself. It’s my old doll, Buttercup, and there’s nothing mysterious about her. The children were all right then.”

“They aren’t now. This is too much!” Helen Riker cried, becoming hysterical. “If those robbers entered the house during the night and stole them, I’ll never forgive myself. Maybe they think I lied to them when I said I didn’t know where Uncle Paul kept his jade collection. They may think if they hold the children they can force me to tell—”

“Wait a minute!” Peter stopped her. “Before you jump to any such conclusions, tell me when you last saw the children.”

“Why, when I put them to bed.”

Peter made a quick investigation, and reported that no one had entered the children’s room except Judy and himself.

“What about their clothes?” he asked. “Are any of them missing?”

“They must be wearing their snow suits,” their mother began.

“And why not, on a nice snowy morning?” asked Peter. “It looks to me as if they just got up early and ran out to play.”

But Helen Riker still wouldn’t believe they hadn’t met with some disaster.

“If they’ve decided to track those robbers down by themselves,” she wailed, “some real harm may come to them.”

“I’ll see that it doesn’t,” promised Peter.

Judy made three phone calls. Then she and Peter put on coats and boots and began an exploration of the neighborhood. The new snow helped, and they soon discovered that Penny and Paul had left a path from the house to the barn and then across the shortcut to the North Hollow road.

Judy’s friend and nearest neighbor, Holly Potter, reported that she had seen the children a half hour or so earlier. They were on their way toward the new housing development, she thought.

“Muriel’s house is on the corner. They could have been on their way there,” she added as Judy hurried off with Peter.

“I called Ricky and Muriel and Anne before we came out. They hadn’t seen them,” she called back.

“That leaves Wally, doesn’t it?” asked Peter. “Did you think of calling him? That’s where they were planning to have this magic show, wasn’t it?”

“Of course. Why didn’t I think of it? That’s where they naturally would go. Let’s go back to the house and telephone.”

“I’ll get the car out and drive over and pick them up if you like,” Peter offered.

“All right, and in the meantime I’ll get breakfast started,” Judy decided. “What do you fancy this morning?”

“Pancakes would do very nicely. I’ve worked up quite an appetite.”

“Pancakes it is!”

They returned to the house hand in hand and enjoying the crisp morning air. Overnight it had changed from fall to winter. As Peter drove off along the snowy road Judy waved to him and then turned to Mrs. Riker.

“He’ll find them. Don’t worry. Let’s go inside and have a nice hot breakfast ready for them when they do come back.”

Church bells were ringing, reminding them that it was Sunday morning. For Judy and Peter this was never a day for sleeping. Usually they drove to Farringdon and attended church with Judy’s parents and Peter’s grandparents. Horace never missed a Sunday.

“Honey will be there, too. And Lois and Lorraine and all the other girls I knew in high school,” thought Judy.

But when she suggested church to Mrs. Riker the young woman protested that she didn’t want to meet people.

“Not here,” she said. “Not yet.”

What did she mean? Judy had suggested the little white church in Dry Brook Hollow, as it was already too late to drive to Farringdon, and the children had not yet returned.

“We might look for them in Sunday school if Peter isn’t back by ten o’clock.”

Judy felt sure some of the neighborhood children might have invited them. She didn’t know why, but she just couldn’t share Mrs. Riker’s anxiety, although she could sympathize with her. The pancake batter was ready. Ten o’clock came and still no children. Mrs. Riker was the first one to suggest walking over to the Sunday school.

They arrived just as all the children were singing:

“_Come, ye thankful people, come, Raise the song of harvest-home. All is safely gathered in, Ere the winter storms begin._”

“It’s Thanksgiving Sunday!” Judy whispered.

But Mrs. Riker was looking into the faces of the children and finding nothing to be thankful for. Her own were not there.