“Veve is so reckless,” she said when she heard the story. “Oh, I’m afraid she may be badly hurt.”

“Now don’t worry, Mrs. McGuire,” said Connie’s mother kindly. “Connie telephoned the police and24 already they are searching for the car. We’ll start out too.”

24

Connie could tell by the tone of her mother’s voice that she was proud of her for having called the police station so promptly.

“We’ll want you to go with us, Connie, because you may be able to recognize the car,” said her mother, motioning for her to get into the Williams’ automobile.

Connie rode in the front seat beside her father. At Kelly’s Hill she pointed out the bend in the road where she last had seen the gray sedan.

Driving quite slowly, Mr. Williams watched both sides of the road. He was afraid Veve might have been thrown from her sled into a snowy ditch.

For nearly an hour, the car went up one street and down another. Mr. Williams drove far out on Highway 20, stopping at two filling stations to ask the attendants if they had seen a little girl in a red snowsuit being pulled on her sled by a gray car. No one had.

Connie sat with her face pressed against the car window, watching and hoping. Twice she thought she saw the gray car. But always it proved to be a different automobile.

Soon it was so dark she scarcely could see the25 road. Lights winked on inside the houses. Mr. Williams had to turn on the car headlights.

25

“We may as well return home,” he said at last.

“By this time, the police may have found Veve,” said Connie’s mother. She spoke as cheerfully as she could because Mrs. McGuire looked as if she were about to cry.

“Let’s go back as quickly as we can,” agreed Mrs. McGuire.

Soon the car turned down the familiar, winding street, but Connie saw that the McGuire house was dark. Veve’s grandmother had not returned. Veve couldn’t be home either, or the lights would have been turned on.

When Mrs. McGuire looked at the dark windows, she began to cry. She couldn’t help it because she was so very worried. 

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