think of it before; but you are just the boy to put upon the search.
If you should find her, Teddy, Mr. Legrange will make your fortune.
He is rich and generous, and this is his only child. Eleven o'clock.
Shall be in at one."

As he spoke, Mr. Burroughs threw the paper and photograph upon
Teddy's table, and hastily left the office. The boy took up "The
Journal," and read the following advertisement:--

"Lost, upon the evening of Oct. 31, a little girl, six years of age,
named Antoinette Legrange; of slight figure, round face, delicate
color, large blue eyes, long curled hair of a bright-yellow color,
small mouth, and regular teeth. She was dressed, at the time of her
disappearance, in a blue frock and brown boots, with a lady's
breakfast-shawl; and wore upon the sleeve of her dress a bracelet of
coral cameos engraved under the clasp with her name in full. A
liberal reward will be paid for information concerning her. Apply at
the police-station."

When he had studied this, Teddy took up the photograph, and examined
it earnestly. The dress, the long curled hair, the joyous
expression, were very different from the pale face, wild eyes, and
cropped head of the little sister at home; but Teddy's heart sank
within him as he traced the delicate features, the curved lips, and
trim little figure. He dropped the picture, and, leaning his face
upon his arm, sobbed aloud.

"I'll lose her anyway, if she dies or if she lives; and it's all the
little sister ever I got."