“Great,” said Fibsy, eating the last crumb as he guilefully complimented her culinary skill, “and now I’ve got to find a person name o’ Rachel. Where might she be?”
“She might be ’most anywhere, but she isn’t anywhere,” was the cryptic reply.
“Why for?”
“Well, she’s plain disappeared, if you know what that means.”
“Vamoosed? Skipped? Faded? Slid? Oozed out?”
“Yes; all those. Anyway, she isn’t on the place.”
“Since when?”
“Why, I saw her last about two hours ago. Then when Mrs. Wheeler wanted her she wasn’t to be found.”
“And hasn’t sence ben sane?”
“Just so. And as you are part and parcel of that detective layout that’s infestin’ the house an’ grounds, I wish you’d find the hussy.”