Her implication that the presence of Miss Mystery was contaminating was too plain to be mistaken, and mother and daughter left the room.
“Well,” Cray said, “I’ve pretty much made up my mind in this matter. I make no arrest now, since you’re going to be responsible, Mr. Adams, for Miss Austin’s presence when desired. But, I think I see it all. I think I can reconstruct the whole case, and I think there will be decided developments very soon.”
“You do,” was Trask’s response to this speech, and as one by one all present rose to go, Trask remained, and asked that he might see Miss Austin alone.
“Guess I’ll stand by,” said Old Salt, and something in the grim but kindly old face made Trask give tacit consent.
Straightforwardly the man set about his inquiries.
“Now, first of all, Miss Austin,” Trask said, “where is your home?”
An obstinate look came into her eyes, and she hesitated a moment. Then, with a sudden change of expression, she said, “Indianapolis.”
“Address?”
“Six-twenty-seven Jackson Street.”
Trask’s eyebrows went up at this, and he gave her a searching look, but Miss Mystery showed no embarrassment.