“I really don’t know,” confessed Waldon. “Pedersen denies absolutely that he has touched the thing for weeks. I want you to quiz him. I wasn’t able to get him to admit a thing.”
CHAPTER VIII
THE HOUSEBOAT MYSTERY
We had by this time swung around to the side of the houseboat. I realized as we mounted the ladder that the marine gasoline engine had materially changed the old-time houseboat from a mere scow or barge with a low flat house on it, moored in a bay or river, and only with difficulty and expense towed from one place to another. Now the houseboat was really a fair-sized yacht.
The Lucie was built high in order to give plenty of accommodation for the living quarters. The staterooms, dining rooms and saloon were really rooms, with seven or eight feet of head room, and furnished just as one would find in a tasteful and expensive house.
Down in the hull, of course, was the gasoline motor which drove the propeller, so that when the owner wanted a change of scene all that was necessary was to get up anchor, start the motor and navigate the yacht-houseboat to some other harbor.
Edwards himself met us on the deck. He was a tall man, with a red face, a man of action, of outdoor life, apparently a hard worker and a hard player. It was quite evident that he had been waiting for the return of Waldon anxiously.
“You find us considerably upset, Professor Kennedy,” he greeted Craig, as his brother-in-law introduced us.
Edwards turned and led the way toward the saloon. As he entered and bade us be seated in the costly cushioned wicker chairs I noticed how sumptuously it was furnished, and particularly its mechanical piano, its phonograph and the splendid hardwood floor which seemed to invite one to dance in the cool breeze that floated across from one set of open windows to the other. And yet in spite of everything, there was that indefinable air of something lacking, as in a house from which the woman is gone.
“You were not here last night, I understand,” remarked Kennedy, taking in the room at a glance.
“Unfortunately, no,” replied Edwards, “Business has kept me with my nose pretty close to the grindstone this summer. Waldon called me up in the middle of the night, however, and I started down in my car, which enabled me to get here before the first train. I haven’t been able to do a thing since I got here except just wait—wait—wait. I confess that I don’t know what else to do. Waldon seemed to think we ought to have some one down here—and I guess he was right. Anyhow, I’m glad to see you.”