“Silly girl! You don’t deserve the beauty nature gave you, if you’re not willing to help it along a little yourself! How do you do, Mrs. Wheeler and Mr. Wheeler?”
She greeted them prettily, and Keefe, too, exchanged greetings with the family.
“Anything being done?” he asked, finally. “Has Mr. Stone discovered anything of importance?”
“Nothing very definite, I fear,” returned Daniel Wheeler. He spoke wearily, and almost despairingly. Anxiety and worry had aged him, even in the last few days. “I do hope, Keefe, that you can be of assistance. You have a keen eye for details, and may know or remember some points that escaped our notice.”
“I’m hoping I can help,” Keefe returned with a serious face. “Can I see Stone shortly?”
“Yes, now. Come along into the den, he’s in here.”
The two men went to the den, where Stone and Fibsy were in deep consultation.
“Very glad to see you, Mr. Keefe,” Fleming Stone acknowledged the introduction. “This is McGuire, my young assistant. You may speak frankly before him.”
“If I have anything to speak,” said Keefe. “I don’t really know anything I haven’t told, but I may remind Mr. Wheeler of some points he has forgotten.”
“Well, let’s talk it all over,” Stone suggested, and they did.