Events had been too exciting to warrant “time out” for Dorothy to change from her traveling clothes, so she simply kicked off her shoes and gave Althea the keys to her bags. The unpacking would be accomplished swiftly and skillfully with everything put neatly away and any wrinkles completely ironed out.
Arden sat with pen poised and her face alight with eagerness, a dark-haired, blue-eyed Portia.
“Now we’ll begin,” she said. “Who was the first person to mention Sycamore Hall, and how can we connect him with the mystery?”
“I was,” answered Terry. “I suggested that we ride by. I was tired of the old roads.”
“Theodosia Landry, student,” Arden wrote in a schoolgirl’s hand, “suggested visiting spot. Of course, Terry, you knew nothing about the legend that the place was haunted?”
“I object.” Sim sprang up. “That’s a leading question. How do we know she didn’t? Remember, we are all guilty until proven innocent.”
“I’ll ask it another way, then,” Arden agreed. “Did you have any knowledge of ghost stories emanating from Sycamore Hall, the house in question?”
Arden was well pleased at the businesslike way in which she was conducting the investigation.
“Absolutely none, it was merely a coincidence,” Terry replied and Arden penned her answer.
“Who next mentioned the house?” Arden resumed her rôle of detective.