"You're right there.

And last night--about seven or so in the evening--a telegram came to the Dunlops saying Mrs.Heselton was taken very ill, and would Miss Dunlop go over?
And away she went there and then, on her bicycle, and alone--and she never reached the place!" "How do you know that ?" demanded Mr.Lindsey.
"Because," answered Chisholm, "about nine o'clock this morning in comes one of the Heselton lads to Dunlop to tell him his mother had died during the night; and then, of course, they asked did Miss Dunlop get there in time, and the lad said they'd never set eyes on her.

And--that's all there is to tell, Mr.Lindsey." I was for starting off, with, I think, the idea of instantly mounting my bicycle and setting out for Heselton's farm, when Mr.Lindsey seized my elbow.
"Take your time, lad," said he.

"Let's think what we're doing.

Now then, how far is it to this place where the girl was going ?" "Seventeen miles," said I, promptly.
"You know it ?" he asked.