“I went to call on the Robinsons to try to bolster their spirits,” she said. “I told them about your trip to New York and that seemed to cheer them a lot. Monday I’m going to bake a ham and a cake for you to take to them. Mrs. Robinson isn’t well and can do little in the kitchen.”
“That’s swell of you!” Frank said admiringly. “I’ll go.”
Joe told them he had a tennis match to play. “I’ll do the next errand,” he promised.
Monday, during a change of classes, Frank met Callie Shaw in the corridor. “Hit” she said. “What great problem is on Detective Hardy’s mind? You look as if you’d lost your best criminal!”
Frank grimaced. “Maybe I have,” he said.
He told Callie that he had phoned home at noon confidently expecting to hear that his father had reported the arrest of the real thief of the Apple-gate money and the exoneration of Mr. Robinson. “But there was no word, Callie, and I’m worried Dad may be in danger.”
“I don’t blame you,” she said. “What do you think has happened?”
“Well, you never can tell when you’re dealing with criminals.”
“Now, Frank, you’re not trying to tell me your father would let himself get trapped?” Callie said.
“No, I don’t think he would, Callie. Maybe Dad hasn’t returned because he still hasn’t found the man he was looking for.”