“Well, it’s only that, as I said, you can’t help any, and if things go against the girl, it would be better for you to be out of it all.”
I suppose something in the look of misery that came into my eyes went to Lora’s heart, for she said:
“Nonsense, Kee, Gray can’t go away. He couldn’t bring himself to do that. Of course, he’ll stay right here with us, and if he doesn’t help, at least he won’t hinder. You go ahead with your investigations and Gray and I will stand at thy right hand and keep the bridge with thee.”
“All right, Lora,” I managed to say, and Kee understandingly refrained from any further words on the subject.
But I grasped his meaning, and I knew that I was to stay only if I put no obstacles in his way and concealed no information that I might in any way achieve.
March came along as per schedule, and he and Keeley plunged at once into the discussion. Keeley Moore was not one of those private investigators who kept secret his own findings or ideas. He was almost always ready to tell freely what he thought or suspected, and he expected equal frankness from his fellow workers.
So, first of all he informed March of the story Posy May had detailed.
March, too, was inclined to take it with a grain of salt.
“I know that kid,” he said. “She’s full of the old Nick, and I’m not sure her word is reliable. But that yarn sounds plausible, and if she did see what she describes, it’s likely somebody else at some time or other has seen the same sort of thing. If so, I’ll try to find it out, and if we get one or two corroborations, we can begin to think it may be so.”
“But, even then,” I suggested, “it may only mean a high temper and not a—a——”