Her chase led her before long into the most thickly settled part of the
city. Trolley cars clanged past her all the time now; the center of the
street was full of vehicles of all sorts, and, as she hurried along, she
was hard put to it to keep her feet, so great was the rush and the hurry
of those with whom she shared the pavement.

Then she came to a sort of central square, where all the business of
the town seemed to be concentrated. On one side was a great building.
Outside were cabs and newsboys, and Bessie recognized it as the station
through which, with Eleanor Mercer and the rest of the Camp Fire Girls,
she had come to the city. Bessie stopped at the curb, dazed and
confused. Here she lost sight of Jake.

After her long chase, that seemed bitterly hard. Had she only known what
was coming, she would have been closer to him, but, as it was, she could
only stand on the corner, looking helplessly about, on the off chance
that she would again catch sight of his well-known figure.

But luck was not with her. Even someone far better used to the bustle
and confusion of the city might well have been at a loss. It was the
luncheon hour, and from all the buildings hundreds of people were
pouring out, making the streets seem fuller than ever. And it was not
long before Bessie decided with a sigh that she must give up, and find
her way home. She was afraid Eleanor Mercer would be worried and alarmed
by her absence, and she determined to return as she had come, and as
fast as she could.

Still, on the way, surely she could peep into one of the beautiful store
windows--and she did. For a moment she stood there, and then, suddenly,
she felt a hand in her pocket. She turned to see whose it was--and