“I don’t know what we can do,” Arden said again. “But I think we should wait a little while before we spread an alarm. After all, he may have stayed in town because of the storm.”
“Of course. Why didn’t we think of that before?” Sim agreed, sighing with relief. “We’d better lock Tania in and get back ourselves. Then we can drive to town and look around for him there.”
They were relieved at having something definite to do, some real plan to work upon. Terry with difficulty closed the open window. Arden coaxed Tania out to the kitchen and left water for her to drink, besides two dog biscuits she found in a box. Sim carefully covered the picture again, still conscious of the thrilling surprise it had given them.
Finding they could not lock the door from the outside, they pulled it shut and, after one more look around the old boat, they wrapped their coats tightly about them and set out for “Buckingham Palace.”
The discovery of Arden’s portrait under such almost terrifying conditions left the little group frankly bewildered.
“How could he have drawn so well from memory?” Arden wondered.
“What will Arden say or do about it?” Sim reflected.
“Anyhow,” Terry was deciding, “it’s a perfectly swell picture.”
Then, as if voicing the unspoken words of her companions, Arden said:
“Please don’t let’s say anything about—the picture—now.”