"I hope you'll excuse me," said Elaine brightly. "We've just arrived and I haven't a thing unpacked."
Del Mar bowed and Elaine left us. Aunt Josephine followed shortly. Del Mar and I sat down at a table. As he talked he placed the magazine in his lap beneath the table, on his knees. I could not see, but he was in reality secretly putting together the torn note which the farmer had thrown to Elaine.
Finally he managed to fit all the pieces. A glance down was enough. But his face betrayed nothing. Still under the table, he swept the pieces into his pocket and rose.
"I'll drop in when you are more settled," he excused himself, strolling leisurely out again.
. . . . . . .
Up in the bedroom Elaine's maid, Marie, had been unpacking.
"Well, what do you know about that?" she exclaimed as Jennings and
Patrick came dragging in the banged-up trunk.
"Very queer," remarked Jennings, detailing the little he had seen, while Patrick left.
The entrance of Elaine put an end to the interesting gossip and Marie started to open the trunk.
"No, Marie," said Elaine. "I'll unpack them my self. You can put the things away later. You and Jennings may go."