Ruth was always sympathetic about her guerrilla warfare with thepublishers

　　Ruth was always sympathetic about her guerrilla warfare with thepublishers. She looked forward to a cosy chat, in the course of whichshe would trace, step by step, the progress of the late campaign whichhad begun overnight and had culminated that morning in a sort ofGettysburg, from which she had emerged with her arms full of capturedflags and all the other trophies of conquest.
　　"No, madam," said Keggs. "Mrs. Winfield has not yet returned."Keggs was an artist in tragic narration. He did not give away hisclimax; he led up to it by degrees as slow as his audience wouldpermit.
　　"Returned? I did not know she intended to go away. Her yacht party isnext week, I understand.""Yes, madam.""Where has she gone?""To Tuxedo, madam.""Tuxedo?""Mrs. Winfield has just rung us up from there upon the telephone torequest that necessaries for an indefinite stay be despatched to her.
　　She is visiting Mrs. Bailey Bannister."If Mrs. Porter had been Steve, she would probably have said "For thelove of Mike!" at this point. Being herself, she merely repeated thebutler's last words.
　　"If I may be allowed to say so, madam, I think that there must havebeen trouble at Mrs. Bannister's. A telephone-call came from her veryearly this morning for Mrs. Winfield which caused Mrs. Winfield to riseand leave in a taximeter-cab in an extreme hurry. If I might be allowedto suggest it, it is probably a case of serious illness. Mrs. Winfieldwas looking very disturbed.""H'm!" said Mrs. Porter. The exclamation was one of disappointmentrather than of apprehension. Sudden illnesses at the Bailey home didnot stir her, but she was annoyed that her recital of the squelching ofthe publishers would have to wait.
　　She went upstairs. Her intention was to look in at the nursery andsatisfy herself that all was well with William Bannister. She had givenMamie specific instructions as to his care on her departure; but younever knew. Perhaps her keen eye might be able to detect some deviationfrom the rules she had laid down.
　　It detected one at once. The nursery was empty. According to schedule,the child should have been taking his bath.
　　She went downstairs again. Keggs was waiting in the hall. He hadforeseen this return. He had allowed her to go upstairs with his storybut half heard because that appealed to his artistic sense. This story,to his mind, was too good to be bolted at a sitting; it was the idealserial.
　　"Keggs.""Madam?""Where is Master William?""I fear I do not know, madam.""When did he go out? It is seven o'clock; he should have been in anhour ago.""I have been making inquiries, madam, and I regret to inform you thatnobody appears to have seen Master William all day.""What?""It not being my place to follow his movements, I was unaware of thisuntil quite recently, but from conversation with the other domestics, Ifind that he seems to have disappeared!""Disappeared?"A glow of enjoyment such as he had sometimes experienced when theticker at the Cadillac Hotel informed him that the man he had backed insome San Francisco fight had upset his opponent for the count began topermeate Keggs.