“If you can’t be logical be psychological,” said Zizi, flippantly. “Now, you know, Penny, you’re going to win out——”
“If I do, it’ll be solely and merely because of your faith in me,” he said, his face beginning to show the look of discouragement that she had learned to dread.
“That’s all right,” she responded, “but this old faith of mine, while it will never wear out,—its effect on you will. Don’t depend on it too long. Now let’s count up what we’ve really got toward a solution.”
“We’ve got a lot,” began Wise hopefully. “We know enough to assume that Betty Varian was kidnapped and her father shot by the same hand. Or rather by orders of the same master brain. I don’t say the criminal himself committed these crimes. Then, we know that our master villain got in and out of this house,—or his subordinates did,—by means which we haven’t yet discovered, but which I am on the trail of.”
“Oh, Penny, are you? Tell me where you think it is? Is it through the kitchen?”
“Wait a couple of days, Ziz. I’ll tell you as soon as I’m certain. In fact, I may have to wait a week to find out about it.”
“Getting an expert on it?”
“Nope. Working it out myself,—but it all depends on the moon.”
“Oh, Penny, I’ve long suspected you of being luny, but I didn’t think you’d admit it yourself! Howsumever, as long as you’re jocular, I’m not discouraged. It’s when you pull a long face and heave great, deep sighs that my confidence begins to wobble.”
“Don’t wobble yet, then, my dear, for when the moon gets around to the right quarter, I’ll show you the secret way in and out of this house.”