“Miss Collier,” said Lefty, “do you think it would be possible for your father to come home at once? Do you think he is strong enough to stand the voyage? If he can do so, he had better come. He should be here now.”
“I don’t know,” she replied.
“Give me his address and let me communicate with him,” Locke urged. “He should know something of the truth, at least.”
Virginia was persuaded, for Mrs. Vanderpool agreed that it was the best course to pursue. The southpaw was elated; he felt that at last he was getting a grip that would enable him to accomplish something. If he could baffle the rascals now, it would be a feat worth while.
Mrs. Vanderpool was called away to the telephone.
“Auntie has been very kind to me, in spite of her quarrel with father,” said Virginia, when the lady had left the room. “They have not spoken to each other for years. It is so ridiculous, so childish, for a brother and sister who have been devoted! Both are stubborn. And yet Aunt Elizabeth is the kindest, gentlest woman in the world. She lost an only daughter, and she says I seem to fill the vacant place. She has made me feel very much at home.”
Then she began chatting with Janet about things of mutual interest. Locke joined Stillman, who had walked to the far end of the room.
“This Weegman is either a fool or much cleverer than we thought him,” said the reporter swiftly, in a low tone. “I don’t believe he’s a fool.”
“How have you figured it out?” Lefty questioned. “It was a mistake to think him not wise to Parlmee. And why, if he is hand in glove with Garrity, did he tell her that Garrity was concerned in the miserable business?”
“He told her that to-day?”