Chapter Ten

Yes, Mr. Quincy Gets Involved

The morning after Will’s disappearance, Ethan and Bert retreated to the old wagon stored behind the bam. There they sat, bare legs swinging over the tailgate as they pondered the best way to proceed with their day. Aside from Matron’s chores, they had been assigned no job for the morning. Everyone was concerned about the missing boy, and the most judicious plan seemed to be to keep out of their way. The older fellows had again been dispatched to the fields and the woods to search.

“The only place no one has looked is the house that lady with the big car came from,” Bert remarked finally. “They don’t know about that.”

“Maybe we should do that ourselves,” Ethan suggested. “If we found him there, they’d be so glad, they’d forget to ask how we knew.”

Bert’s eyes sparkled. “Hey, that’s a great idea! Let’s do it!”

The boys jumped from the wagon and took off toward the road.

“Where are we going?” Ethan was breathing hard as he tried to keep up with Bert.

At the question, Bert stopped. “I don’t know.”

“You mean you don’t know where she lives?”

“Nope. All I know is she said her name was Mrs. Quincy.” Bert looked discouraged for a moment and then brightened. “Shala! She’ll know. She’s been here since she was little, and she knows everything. We’ll ask her.”

“You ask her,” Ethan said. “I’ll wait here for you.”

He sank to the ground as Bert sped off. Shala hadn’t been overly cordial to him since the day they arrived. She probably wouldn’t give him any information if he did ask her.

Bert soon returned with the good news that Shala knew exactly where the Quincy house was. She had demanded to know why Bert was interested.

“The only reason I could think to tell her was that we wanted to see that big car up close. That would be no lie. I would like to look it over, wouldn’t you?”

Ethan nodded, and they hurried on their way to the edge of town. Their steps slowed when they came in sight of the house, surrounded by green lawn and trees. It was an awesome sight. A broad porch encircled the entire structure, and wide steps led to the big front doors. Sunlight danced and sparkled from every window, and white paint gleamed in the morning brightness.

“Wow!” Ethan breathed. “That’s almost as big as the Briars. I wonder how many kids live here?”

Bert didn’t answer. He was frowning as if busy wondering whether they should approach the front door or go around to the back.

“What are we going to say when she comes to the door?” Ethan asked. “Just ask if we can see Will?”

“We better find out if he’s here or not. Maybe the one who has door duty today will know.”

They pulled the bell, and it seemed a long time before the door opened, revealing a large woman wrapped in a big white apron. She gaped in surprise at the two boys standing before her with dusty, bare feet and overalls cut off at the knee.

“Are you Mrs. Quincy?” Ethan blurted.

“Naw!” Bert tugged at his arm. “That ain’t Mrs. Quincy. That’s the Matron.”

“Now that you have that settled, boys,” the woman said, “I’m Greta. What is it you want?”

“We want to see Mrs. Quincy,” Bert answered. “We want to ask her something.”

“Well, I’m afraid you can’t do that,” Greta replied. “Mrs. Quincy left town yesterday, and I don’t know when she’ll be back.”

Ethan’s shoulders sagged with disappointment. “Did she take Will with her?”

“Will? Who’s Will? Clara’s the only one who went along.”

“Will’s my little brother, ma’am. We can’t find him, and we heard—”

A sharp poke from Bert’s elbow reminded Ethan that they weren’t to mention anything they’d heard.

Greta eyed them sharply, her forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. “I’m sorry, boys. I can’t help you. I don’t know anything about your little brother.”

She stepped back into the house, and two dejected boys trudged back to the road. What were they going to do now?

The two unhappy boys sat beside the road to think over their situation. The problem seemed to be bigger than they could handle.

“Matron said that the Good Shepherd knows where Will is,” Ethan said. “I wonder why He doesn’t tell us?”

“I don’t think He talks out loud to people,” Bert offered. “In the story, He brought the lost sheep back Himself. So He’ll bring Will back too. We might as well go home and wait.”

Ethan nodded, but neither boy moved. The sun was warm on their backs, and the breeze carried the smell of new grass and lilacs. After being so sure that they were going to the right place, disappointment seemed to leave them motionless.

“If the lady didn’t take Will, who do you suppose did?” Ethan wondered. “Somebody must have. He was too little to go alone.”

“I don’t know.” Bert sighed. “Not a whole lot of people go by our road. Only folks on the way out of town.” Bert sat up straighter. “We can go look in town and ask people if they saw him. Someone might have noticed a little boy they hadn’t seen before.”

Ethan was willing to agree with this theory, and they headed right away for the center of the little town. Horses and buggies were lined up along the main street, and people walked back and forth in front of the stores. The excitement of seeing all this activity slowed the boys down a bit.

“I remember coming past here from the trolley station,” Ethan said. “It’s better to come this way. You can stop and look in the store windows.”

This they did, lingering long over a display of bicycles and toy wagons. They dared not venture inside the stores, since they had no money to spend, but there was much to see from the street.

“Look, Ethan!” Bert grabbed his arm. “There’s a lady with a little boy! He looks something like Will!”

Bert pointed across the road, where two figures moved rapidly away from them.

Without looking either way, Ethan darted into the dusty street.

Bert grabbed the straps of Ethan’s overalls and yanked him back. “You gotta watch out, or you’ll get run down,” he warned. “Look what’s coming.”

A large wagon pulled by a team of horses lumbered by. Buckets hung from the back, and ladders were strapped on the sides. Something that looked like a huge barrel lay in the bed of the wagon. The boys watched in fascination as it passed them in a cloud of dust.

“That’s a fire wagon,” Bert informed Ethan. “They can come in a hurry if something is burning.”

“Did you ever see them do it?” Ethan asked.

“Well, no. We never had a fire out at the Home. We’d probably see it a lot if we lived in town.”

“I think I like where I am better,” Ethan decided. “There’s more stuff to keep us busy.”

Suddenly he remembered what they had started out to do. Squinting down the street, he saw that the woman and the little boy had disappeared.

“Come on,” Bert said. “If we run, maybe we can catch them.”

Several minutes later they slowed down. It was no use. The pair was nowhere in sight. The boys began to walk again.

“I think we’ve looked everywhere we can,” Bert said. “We might as well go back home.”

But Ethan was fascinated by the big building closest to them. “That’s the seat,” he informed Bert.

“The seat of what?”

“I don’t know.” Ethan shrugged. “That’s what the stationmaster told us. I wonder who lives there?”

Bert surveyed the building. “I don’t think anyone does.” Men and women were going in and out the front doors. “It looks more like people work there. Nobody seems to be watching who goes in. Want to go see?”

Since he couldn’t think of anyplace else to look for Will, Ethan followed Bert through the large doors.

The boys knew better than to enter a closed room, but if a door stood open, they didn’t hesitate to stop and look it over from the hallway. An endless number of things seemed to be going on in this building. Typewriters clacked and telephones rang. Young men with bundles of papers hurried by. People entered a big room whose swinging doors revealed long rows of seats and a big desk at the front.

“That looks a little like a school,” Bert said, “but there ain’t no desks to write on.”

“Maybe it’s a church where the preacher sits down,” Ethan suggested. “But it’s sure a lot bigger than our church.”

While they stood discussing the possibilities, a smiling woman swung the door open and stepped into the hallway. “Good morning, boys,” she said. “Are you looking for someone?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ethan answered promptly. “My brother.”

“Does he work here?”

“Oh no, ma’am. He’s only two years old. He’s lost.”

“Two years old!” the lady exclaimed. “What makes you think he might be here? How long has he been lost? Where are your parents?”

The questions came so fast that Ethan was unable to answer. He just stood with his mouth open.

Bert tried, however. “He was lost yesterday. We thought maybe—”

At that moment an impressive-looking man walked out of the big room and stopped to gaze at the dusty, barefoot boys.

“Well, well. What have we here, Miss Clark? Are these friends of yours?”

“I’ve just met them, sir,” Miss Clark replied. “They tell me they’ve lost a little boy.”

“Is that so?” The man fixed his gaze on Ethan and Bert. “Perhaps you’d better tell me about it.”

He led the way to an office, and the boys were soon perched uneasily on the edge of chairs in a big room. The man settled behind his desk.

“Now. Let’s hear what’s going on. Suppose you tell me first where you live.”

“At the Briars, sir,” Bert answered.

The man blinked. “Briarlane Children’s Home?” he asked, looking surprised. “And whom did you say you’ve lost?”

“My little brother, sir,” Ethan said. “Yesterday.”

“And what is your name?”

“Ethan. Ethan Cooper.”

The man frowned. “Mr. Lehman knows about this, does he?”

“Yes, sir. He’s looking for Will now. We thought maybe—” Ethan stopped. He’d better not tell this man their suspicions. They didn’t even know who he was. They could get into trouble.

“Shall I see that the boys get back to the Home, Judge Quincy?” Miss Clark asked.

Judge Quincy! Bert and Ethan looked at each other in dismay. That was the name of the lady they were trying to find. If the matron of her house told the judge that they had been there, they were already in trouble.

“No, Miss Clark,” Mr. Quincy replied. “Thank you anyway. I believe I’ll take them out myself. I’d better look into this matter.”

Ethan’s shoulders drooped. Would his problems never end? Mr. Lehman would have to know what they had done without permission, and they were no closer to finding Will than before.

Slowly the boys followed Mr. Quincy out of the building. It would be a long walk back to the Home.

Then, to their happy surprise, they found they weren’t going to walk. At the rear of the building stood a limousine.

Bert happily exclaimed, “That’s the big car, Ethan! The one she came in.”

Mr. Quincy appeared perplexed. “You’ve seen this car before?”

“Oh yes, sir,” Bert replied eagerly. “The lady came with this man. Twice.” He pointed at the attendant, who looked neither right nor left.

Patterson considered this news as he ushered the two boys into the car. Why had Eugenia—it had to be Eugenia—gone to the Home? Why hadn’t she mentioned it to him? Gridley had said nothing about such a trip. But then, Patterson thought, he wouldn’t expect the man to. Eugenia had access to the car whenever she wished.

He turned his attention to the excited boys.

“We never rode in a fine car like this before!” Bert exclaimed.

“We never rode in no car before,” Ethan corrected him.

“Wait till the guys see us come home like this!”

Then the boys exchanged a glance and both sat back against the seat with sober expressions.

Patterson noticed the sudden quiet and hurried to reassure them. “It’s all right, boys. If you’re worried about getting into trouble for coming into town, I’ll talk to Mr. Lehman when we get there. Perhaps you’d better tell me what you know. When did you say you last saw your little brother?”

“Yesterday. He was there at breakfast. Then we went to paint the henhouses—” Ethan choked.

Bert took up the story. “Then when we got back, Matron said she thought Will was with us. But we hadn’t seen him.”

Patterson nodded. “So you thought he might have wandered off toward town.”

“No, we thought that Mis—” Bert stopped at a glare from Ethan. “That maybe someone took him away, and we’d see him there,” Bert finished.

“Chances are he’s back by now,” Patterson encouraged them. “If not, we’ll soon find him, I’m sure.”

The car stopped in front of the orphanage gate, and the boys tumbled out. They ran toward the barn to find Otis.

Patterson Quincy walked slowly toward the Home. Several things about this situation disturbed him. How long ago had Eugenia mentioned wanting a child from here? A couple of weeks, he thought. And if he recalled correctly, it was a young Cooper boy that she had specified.

But that was ridiculous. He had convinced her there was no possibility of such a thing, and nothing more had been said about it. That it might be this child who was missing was coincidental. If Eugenia had visited here—twice—there would be an obvious explanation. George Lehman would straighten it out.

Patterson arrived at the door and was admitted into the dim, cool hall. George Lehman soon seated his guest in front of the desk.

Patterson studied the director. “You look worried, George. Anything wrong?”

“Yes, there is. Quite wrong. The youngest of the new family of children has been missing since sometime yesterday. We’ve carefully searched the house area, the woods, and even the river. There is no sign of him. I sent one of the older boys into town a while ago with a message for you. I don’t know how he could have gotten there already.”

“Probably hasn’t.” Patterson then told Mr. Lehman about the two small boys who had delivered the message by accident. “They didn’t know who I was. They just wandered into the courthouse. I told them I’d square things with you so they wouldn’t be in trouble.”

Mr. Lehman smiled slightly. “They won’t be punished. I know how worried Ethan has been. The boy is just like a father to the other three, and he’s not much older than they are. In fact—”

Mr. Lehman looked distressed.

“Yes?”

“I suspect that the father may have come by and taken the baby with him. We’ve not been able to locate the man and have no idea what part of the country he may be in. As I explained to your wife, we’ve done our best to find him so that the children may be released for adoption or returned home. So far we’ve had no success.”

“Mmm, yes.” Patterson was troubled. “You say you’ve talked to Eugenia? Was that about this child who is missing?”

“Why, yes. I thought you knew about it. I didn’t mean to divulge a confidence.”

“No, no. That’s all right. Eugenia simply forgot to mention it to me. She’ll no doubt bring it up when she returns.”

“Mrs. Quincy is out of town?” George Lehman inquired.

“Yes. She has gone to our summer home on the lake this week. Left yesterday.”

Suddenly a dreadful possibility clicked into place in Patterson’s mind, and he rose abruptly. Mr. Lehman stood too, looking startled.

“You’ve done what you can do,” Patterson told him. “I’ll start someone working to locate the boy immediately. Don’t worry. We’ll find him.” His gaze swept over the director’s desk. “We’ll get a telephone out here right away. Can’t have people running between here and my office when you need me. I’ll be in touch with you soon.”

Very soon, he thought grimly as he headed for the car, if what he strongly suspected turned out to be fact. Eugenia couldn’t have picked up that boy and taken him with her, could she? As he settled into the car behind a silent Gridley, he berated himself for not being more alert.

“Let’s go home, Gridley. We have a trip ahead of us this afternoon.”