Ricky got up from the end of Val's cot and went to look. Then she turned, her eyes shining with excitement. "You're trying them again! But, Val, you said you never would."
"Give me that book!" he ordered grimly. But Rupert had calmly collected the trophy and was turning over the pages one by one. Val made a horrible face at Ricky and resigned himself to the inevitable.
"How long have you been doing this sort of thing?" his brother asked as he turned the last page.
"Ever so long," Ricky answered for Val brightly. "He used to draw whole letters of them when we were at school. There were two sets, one for good days and the other for bad."
"And now," Val cut in, "suppose we just forget the whole matter. Will you please let me have that!"
"Rupert, don't let him go all modest on us now," urged the demon sister. "One retiring violet in the family is enough."
"And who is the violet? Your charming self?" inquired Holmes.
"No." Ricky smiled pleasantly. "Only Mr. Creighton might be interested in the contents of Bluebeard's Chamber. What do you think, Rupert?"
At that audacious hint, Val remembered the night of the storm and Ricky's strange attitude then.
"So Rupert's the missing author," he commented lightly. "Well, well, well."