Bright Arrows by Grace Livingston Hill

day of calling on her might be postponed. Eden was such a reserved girl and seldom reacted as they would have done. They were sure she would not burst into tears and weep hysterically, or would never be giddy or gleeful. But they felt uncomfortable. Of course, they were sorry for her, but they did not feel they knew her well enough to be sure how she would meet them. Of course, they were relieved when they found she was just her old sweet self, with no sign that she had met with a hopeless disaster, no mark of shock on her lovely face.
    A few of her old boy friends came in the evening, in groups of two or three. They made a good deal of noise and rollicked quite a little to cover up their embarrassment, but Eden understood. They had been good friends of her father, too. Some of them had been in the bank. She knew that they mourned for her father, who had always been so kind to them, and she was smiling and pleasant with them, trying to act as she knew her father would wish her to do and make them feel comfortable. She appreciated their coming and knew it had been hard for them.
    Then there were two or three of the older fellows from the bank who came, singly; most of them had something pleasant to tell her about what her father had done for them, some pleasant remembrance of him while they had been working under him.
    Each time when it was over and they were gone, Eden had a lovely warm feeling that she had been with her father for a little while. It was so beautiful to hear them praise him and show that they so fully realized his worth. It spread a healing balm over the sore wounds that her former friend Caspar had so thoughtlessly caused.
    It was four days later that Mr. Worden, her father's confidant and friend, returned. He came at once to see her. After she had had a talk with him, she felt greatly strengthened to go on in the way that her father had planned for her, and not at all apprehensive concerning the Fanes. Mr. Worden assured her he would look after them. Their trial was to come off in a few days now, and he personally would talk with them both and see if he couldn't knock some sense into them.
    It was while they were talking together, however, and she was just feeling so happy and comforted, that the telephone rang and Mr. Worden was wanted at once. It was young Lorrimer talking, and though he tried to make his words most guarded, Eden, who had followed to the hall to give a message to Janet, could not help hearing a little, and so she stood with wide-open eyes and a frightened expression on her face, her hands clasped over her heart.
    "Oh," she said as Mr. Worden hung up the receiver and turned toward her, "something more has happened at the police station, hasn't it? I heard the word escape . Tell me, please, what it is. You needn't be afraid. I don't get frightened, you know. But I like to understand thoroughly, and then I won't make so many mistakes."
    Her old friend smiled.
    "I know, Eden. You wouldn't be your father's own daughter if you weren't like that, of course. But this is nothing that need worry you anyway. It only concerns the police. It is entirely out of your hands."
    "But who has escaped?" insisted Eden. "Ellery or his mother?"
    "Well, both of them," admitted the man, "and they haven't quite figured out how it happened. They thought they had them safely guarded. But they'll soon be caught, of course, and then we'll see that there are no more pranks played on the law."
    Then the telephone rang again, and this time it was Mike.
    "Miss Eden, could I speak with Tabor a moment? Somebody seems to be using the kitchen telephone, and this is urgent."
    Tabor was on the spot at once.
    "Tabor speaking, Mike. What? You don't say. Right-o, Mike, I'll check on the cellar, and the garage and the outside shed. Yes, there might have been some old coats and other things that were used by the gardener. Do you think they would dare come here again?"
    "Sure. They'd think it was the last place we would look for them.