“Why, I know that man.” Walker Jamieson summoned forth from his long experience as a newspaperman, the recollection of a story about an aviator who had been discharged from the airplane mail service because of irregularities. Here was a picture of the man.
Nan took it up and studied it. “Why, I know him too!” she exclaimed.
“Of course you do,” Walker agreed. “He was one of the men who held up the plane, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, and not only that,” Nan now divulged a surprising bit of information, “he was present at the bull fight in Mexico City a few days ago.”
“What do you mean?” Walker looked at her intently.
“He was there with a former schoolmate, a Linda Riggs, and he was introduced to Cousin Adair by her.”
“His name?”
Nan searched back in her memory before she answered. “Arthur—”
“Howard?” Walker supplied the name.
“That’s right.” Nan was smiling now, thinking of Bess’s glee when she found out what a position Linda would be in when this story came out.