“She may and she may not. She must be found. Wait, has she a lover?”
“Well, they do say Fulton, the chauffeur, is sweet on her, but I never noticed it much.”
“Who said he was?”
“Mostly she said it herself.”
“She ought to know! Me for Fulton. Good-bye, Cookie, for the nonce,” and waving a smiling farewell, Fibsy went off toward the garage.
CHAPTER XIV
RACHEL’S STORY
“Hello, Fult,” Fibsy sang out gaily to the chauffeur, and received a pleasant response, for few could resist the contagious smile of the round, freckled face of the boy.
“Hello, Mr. Fibsy,” the other returned, “how you getting on with your detective work?”
“Fine; but I want a little help from you.”
“Me? I don’t know anything about anything.”