“I’d say it’s a good thing I did eat cheese sandwiches,” Ken said a moment later, as they closed the door. “If I hadn’t come downstairs the house might have been cleaned out. Do you think we ought to notify the police?” he asked, when they were back in the kitchen and Sandy was pouring out two cups of coffee.
“Let’s let Pop decide,” Sandy suggested. “And let’s not worry Mom about it as long as nothing was taken and no harm seems to have been done.”
“Right,” Ken agreed. “We can talk to Pop at the office.”
They ate some toast, drank their coffee, and then went outside to clear the walks and the driveway. By the time they had finished shoveling the snow it was almost nine o’clock and they were ready for some of the bacon and eggs Mom was preparing for Pop and Bert and Richard Holt and herself.
The phone rang while they were all at the table.
Bert went to answer it. “Global News wants Richard Holt,” he called from the hall.
Holt shoved his chair back with an impatient gesture. “I called the office from the apartment yesterday, just to let them know I was back,” he said. “I see now that was a mistake. If they’ve thought up an assignment that will cut me out of a turkey dinner—” He disappeared into the hall.
When he came back he was smiling. “Nothing serious,” he reported quickly, answering the question in Ken’s eyes. “I’m still on vacation. Global just wanted to let me know I didn’t close the apartment door carefully when I dashed in and out yesterday.”
“Global told you that?” Pop looked blank.
The correspondent grinned over a fresh cup of coffee. “I know it sounds confusing. Seems the apartment-house janitor found my door ajar when he was cleaning the hall this morning. He didn’t know I was back in the country, so he called Global News to ask what to do about it. Granger sent a man down to look the place over—very kind of him, of course, as he was careful to remind me. But nothing was disturbed—clothes, portable radio, typewriter, all safe and sound. No signs of illegal entry, so apparently the fault was mine.”