“Why do you look so worried, Griscom?” Kee said, eying the man closely.
“I am worried, sir. About them weskits.”
“Oh, pshaw, they’re of small consequence compared to the graver questions we have to face.”
“Yes, sir, but it’s queer. Now, I know those two weskits were in their right place Wednesday morning. And Miss Alma said the master gave ’em to her of a Tuesday afternoon.”
“Oh, she just mistook the day,” I said, hastily, anxious to keep her name out of the discussion.
But Moore was interested at once.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Perfectly sure,” the man replied. “Miss Alma was here Tuesday afternoon and the master may have given her the weskits then, but she didn’t carry them home, for they were here Wednesday morning.”
“One of you must be mistaken as to the day,” I repeated. “And it doesn’t matter, anyway.”
“Oh, keep still, Gray,” Kee said, impatiently. “What about the Totem Pole, Griscom? Was that here Wednesday morning?”