“That’s it; I do know something,—or I fear something, I don’t want to tell you,—at least not yet,—but——Rick, let’s do something, you and me,—toward solving the mystery.”
“Oh, no, dear. Please don’t mix your own sweet self into this horrid moil. I’ll do what you tell me to, but don’t dip into the trouble yourself,—I beg of you, don’t!”
“Richard,” and Dorcas stood up, her face taking on a determined look, “come on home with me, and go with me to talk to a woman,—one of the maids of the house. Don’t interfere,—don’t even interrupt, just stand by me, and be ready if I call on you for help.”
Bewildered, and not entirely willing, Bates consented and the two went back to The Campanile.
Unhindered by any message from Dorcas’ mother or Richard’s aunt, they went up in the elevator and on one of the highest floors, Dorcas sought out the head chambermaid’s office.
“I want to know about Maggie and Jane,” she said, straightforwardly. “Maggie is our chambermaid, and Jane is a friend of hers. I have a reason, that I don’t wish to state at present, but I ask you frankly if those two girls are honest and reliable?”
The woman addressed hesitated.
“They are, miss, so far as I know. But I think it’s my duty to tell you, that I’ve heard other whispers of complaint. We’re very particular about the help in this house, and I can’t keep any girl on, who’s even so much as suspected. Have you any definite complaint to make, Miss Everett?”
“There, you see,” broke in Bates. “You mustn’t harm those girls’ reputation by a vague suspicion, Dorcas. If you know anything against them, that’s one thing. But a hint goes so far, and it may be against an innocent girl.”
“I know it,” Dorcas looked very earnest, “so I ask you, Mrs Malone, not to mention this. But tell me, where were those two girls the night of the murder of Sir Herbert Binney?”