"
Claiming to have exactly traced her footsteps Esther and Betty were
still not convinced. "It is such a stupid idea, Sylvia," Betty argued,
"for there isn't anybody in town now to whom Polly would go in the
middle of the night, and besides she would be ashamed to let people know
she had run away from camp."
Nevertheless Sylvia kept stolidly on and because her companions had
nothing better to suggest they followed after her.
On the high road Sylvia, who would still creep like a tortoise, suddenly
stooped down. The August dust was very thick along the way and wagons
had already been traveling into town, and yet she picked up a string of
red, white and blue beads, which surely were Polly's, since patriotism
had been one of her chief studies during the summer.
It was also Sylvia's suggestion that led the little party of friends
straight to Mrs. O'Neill's closed cottage. The doors and windows in
front of the house were sealed, but Betty found the door of the old
kitchen halfway open. And there inside on her mother's lounge lay
Polly! She seemed to be almost asleep when the girls entered, but
awakened immediately and in a wholly different frame of mind.
Realizing in the last few hours, when it was too late, how great an
anxiety her disappearance must have caused, she wanted to go back to
camp, to confess her fault and at least to persuade Betty to forgive
her.
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