“You see,” he went on, “that girl is stubborn—my, but she’s stubborn. You’ll have a handful, Mr. Lockwood. But if so be’s you’re willing to face the revelations, I’ll go and dig ’em up.”
“Where do you think you’ll go, Terence?” asked Stone.
“To California, F. S., of course. Didn’t that telegram come from there? All I’ve got to do is to find ‘A’ and the ‘Carl’ that she ‘annexed’ and there’s your mystery of the young lady solved. But the death of the Doctor—that’s another thing.”
“Do you really mean this?” Lockwood said, staring at Fibsy. “How can you find a needle in a haystack, like that?”
“I can’t—but I’ve gotta.”
“But it’s so much simpler to get the information from Miss Austin herself.”
“You call that simple!” Fibsy looked at him. “Well, it isn’t. It’s easier to go to Mars, I should say, than to get any real information out of that little scrap of waywardness.”
“No, nothing can be learned from her,” said Stone.
“Then, shall I be off?” asked Fibsy.
“Wait twenty-four hours, my lad, and then if we’re no further along, I suppose you’ll have to go. Nogi must be found.”