One afternoon at the beginning of the fourth letterless week, Mrs. Dr. Blythe came home from a Ladies' Aid meeting to find the house in an uproar and Susan paler than the new milk in her own kitchen. "Oh, Mrs. Doctor, dear!" she moaned, as Anne came up the walk. "You had better sit down for this news."
Anne went as pale as Susan, and there was a terrible light in her green eyes. "What is it, Susan? Tell me directly. Is it Jenny?"
"No one here has seen hide nor hair of that precious mite since breakfast. She never came home to lunch, and she isn't anywhere in the house or in Rainbow Valley." Susan stopped, then went on, "I have searched everywhere. The doctor is out on a call, but I have called Jem and he has begun the search. She has been planning something lately, and would never tell me what it was, but some of her little clothes are missing, too. I am afraid she has run away!"
The search went on for a weary hour, with the women remaining at home lest someone should call or the small wanderer return. Once there was the terrible news that the disused well behind the old Parsonage had been opened up and left unattended for a half hour, and the four women (for Faith and Diana had come to offer their support) were unable to look at each other. But it was soon found that the well had been closed again before Jenny had finished helping Susan wash up after breakfast, and hope began to spring more easily. Still, when the doctor arrived home, it was to a house full of women whose strained faces showed their fear. "Anne!" He rushed to her side, alarmed. "What has happened?"
She raised her pale face to him. "Gilbert, it's Jenny. She's been missing for two hours now. Jem and the men are searching."
He gathered her in his arms, then looked over her bowed head to Susan and his daughters. "We'll find her, don't worry. This is hardly the first time an Ingleside child has gone missing, after all, and you've all turned up safe. Susan, what has she been talking about?"
"Very little, Dr. dear, and that you may tie to. That blessed child has grown quieter and quieter since her father's last letter came."
"That's it!" exclaimed the doctor. "She's gone to look for Shirley, I would stake my life on that. How would she try to get there?"
"Sh-she was asking about the trains yesterday," faltered Susan. "She wanted to know if they went all the way to the Klondike. I told her they did, but that passengers had to take several trains to get all the way there. I had forgotten that till just now."
"Anne-girl, you wait here in case she's found somewhere else. Girls, please stay with her. Susan, come with me to the station."
As they drove up to the train station, the doctor swore, hearing a train whistle in the distance. "That's the train now. We'd better hurry." He tore into the station lot, stopped the car with a fine disregard for parking in straight lines. He went to give Susan a hand out of the car, but she was already out, her mouth set and her movements quick. "This way!"
They stepped onto the platform to see a small weary figure stand up and peer toward the train, from where it had evidently been huddled next to a small suitcase. "Little Jenny!" Susan cried, and sped toward the girl.
Jenny hugged her in return, then stepped back, her small face puckered with anxiety. "I'm going after Dad, Susan," she explained. "I have the five dollars he gave me when he left the first time, last year. I'm going to bring him home safe."
The doctor tried to explain, as the train pulled in and stood, steaming. "You have a lot of pluck, but I'm afraid that would be difficult, Jenny-Jen. The Klondike's a very, very big place, much bigger than PEI, and your father's been flying over a lot of it. You wouldn't know where to look to find him, and then the rest of us would have to worry that we'd lost you too."
He paused. "Do you know how we'd feel if we lost both of you?" She hung her head, the sudden realization of their feelings on her face.
He continued, "But we've been worried as well. Tell you what: let's go home now and get out of the way of all these passengers. "We'll write a letter to the people he was working with, to ask if they have any news."
"That won't be necessary," a dry voice interjected. Jenny's eyes flew up, to see a brown man, thinner than she'd last seen him, but with a smile in his eyes just for her.
"Dad!" she squealed, and flew into his arms.
"Son!" "Shirley!" the doctor and Susan exclaimed. He put one arm around Jenny, and with the other first shook his father's hand, then hugged Susan.
"We were afraid something had … happened to you," the doctor told him, huskily.
"Something did," said Shirley. "Let's go home and I'll tell you all about it at once.
Jenny sat on her father's knee all the way home, her head on his shoulder. "Were you really going to come after me all alone?" he asked her. She nodded solemnly.
"I'm proud to find I have such a brave daughter," Shirley told his daughter, as her face lit with pride. "But please, remember, you have to think of other people too. Do you know how upset Susan and your grandparents would have been if you'd vanished without telling anyone?"
Her face turned pensive again, she leaned on his chest. One thumb snuck into her mouth, as it had not done since she was smaller. "I'm sorry, Susan," she said. "I won't go away without telling you again."
"There, there, my duck," Susan said, patting her knee. "Do you not know that Susan would move Heaven and Earth to find your blessed father, if finding were to be done? Next time, you should trust Susan."
When they arrived home, Anne's face lit up to a degree Gilbert had not seen since 1918. Once the whole family was seated, Jenny of Shirley's lap and Anne's arm on his shoulder, he began his story.
"You know I was delivering men, messages, and some supplies all over the Klondike," he began. It's wild country out there still – like pioneering times. There are long distances between the mines and settlements, and if you run out of fuel there's nowhere to get more." His arm tightened on Jenny's shoulder. "You may be sure I remembered that my little girl needed a father, and that I made certain never to run out of fuel."
"I was as careful as I could be with my preflight inspections. But I couldn't account for the weather. One day as I was flying, I saw a storm boiling up ahead of me. I was more than halfway through my trip, and I didn't have enough fuel to go all the way back to where I'd started. So I turned to head directly away from the clouds, and started looking for somewhere I could land to wait out the storm. After an hour went by and I hadn't seen any sign of a settlement, I gave up and landed in the flattest prairie I could find. It was a good landing, because I could walk away from it, but I'm afraid the airplane wing fabric was a little damaged.
"I waited out the storm sitting under the wing – it was a gullywasher and I got wetter than I'd have liked. When the storm finally passed, it was beginning to get dark. I didn't dare take off until I could see to examine the damage, so I spent the night there – I had a little torch, but it wasn't strong enough to make a thorough check. I also had a ham sandwich the cook at the camp had given me, but by morning, I was hungry as well as cold. I had my warm flying jacket on, but it was a little damp by then.
"After I checked the wing out, I thought I could still fly a little, but not fast or far. I headed back in the direction I'd come from and after a couple of hours I spotted another small mine. I had to just hope it was still being worked.
"I managed to land, but by then I didn't have enough fuel to make another flight to anywhere useful. I had to walk a couple of miles in from the nearest place I could land, too, so you can imagine how glad I was to see people at the mining camp. But the miners there were planning to winter over, and had no way out except when the Company wagon came to bring supplies. I was lucky, at that: I got there two weeks before the last supply dump before the winter. The miners gave me a place to sleep and fed me until the wagon came – I hope it doesn't leave them short for the winter! I had to leave the Jenny-plane there, though, until it can be brought out and repaired next spring. I caught a ride out on the supply wagon to the tiny town where the mining company's based, and from there was able to find rides to bigger and bigger towns until I was finally able to take a train home. I knew you'd all be worried sick, but there was no way to send a letter that would get here any faster than I could.
He looked down at Jenny, cuddled against his side. "So now I'm here to stay for the winter, Miss Jenny-Jen. Glad to see me back?"
She nodded, and nestled closer. Her grandmother looked at him with shining eys and answered, "We all are, Shirley, and your timing is perfect. Do you know what next week is?"
"No, mum," he answered. "I lost track entirely while I was traveling."
"It's Thanksgiving," she answered. "Susan, we will have something to celebrate this year. Let's have a real feast, and see how many of our chicks can come home for it!"
"Indeed we will, Mrs Doctor Dear," answered Susan. "We will have Apple Brown Betty, and pumpkin pie, and enough turkey for everyone! And we will give thanks that the lost is found – and that we do not have to ration sugar, any longer."
THE END