Connie hung up the telephone receiver and thanked the druggist for the nickel.

“I’ll pay it back tomorrow,” she promised. “Brownie Scout’s honor.”

“Don’t give it another thought,” he replied. “I only hope you find your little friend.”

Both he and the lady customer asked many questions about how Veve had been carried away on the sled.

Connie answered them all as fast as she could and then hurried away home to tell her mother and Mrs. McGuire what had occurred.

She was quite breathless by the time she burst into the kitchen where her mother was getting the evening meal.

“Why, Connie,” said Mrs. Williams in surprise. “Is anything wrong?”

“Veve’s been carried away in a car, Mother!”

Again Connie told about the coasting mishap.

“Oh, Connie!” exclaimed Mrs. Gordon in a frightened voice. “Does Mrs. McGuire know?”

23 “Not yet, Mother. I haven’t had time to tell her.”

23

“We must, at once. Though I’m afraid she still may be at work. Oh, dear!”

Veve’s father was dead, and the little girl’s mother worked part-time in a downtown office. During the afternoon Veve’s grandmother usually came in to stay with her, but on this Saturday no one had been at the McGuire home.

Connie had never seen her mother look more worried. She hastened to the telephone and, after making several calls, reached Mrs. McGuire. Next she called Connie’s father, asking him to pick up Mrs. McGuire at her office and bring her home.

“Will Veve be hurt, do you think?” Connie asked anxiously.

Mrs. Williams did not answer. She was in the front hallway putting on her hat and coat.

Ten minutes later Connie’s father drove up in the car. He had made a very fast trip home.

With him in the car was Mrs. McGuire, her hat at a rakish angle. She asked Connie to tell her exactly what had happened at the hill.

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