“This is them,” said Jerry, with a jerk of the fan. “You two, this is Miss Nelson and Mr. Dalton. And we want to know right now where Sal Saunders is.”
Dum-Dum opened his mouth and closed it.
“Did—didn’t she get back?” Crawf demanded, jaw hanging loosely. “You aren’t stringing us, Jerry? Trying to get a rise?”
“Nix!” Jerry snarled, her wide lips curling back from her teeth. “Where did you leave her?”
Crawf looked at Dum-Dum, whose speechless countenance gave forth no help. “Why—why—we—I——Haven’t you heard a word from her? Don’t you know where she is?”
“We do not,” said Jim. “And you two, since you are the last two known to be with her, are responsible.”
“Jesus!” said Dum-Dum, and collapsed upon the stairway.
“I’ll swear—I’ll swear—if she’s gotten into anything, it’s her own fault!” Crawf’s sagged jaw did not close with this chivalrous utterance.
“Buzz on with the tale, you little gnat!” Jerry cried, threatening him with her fan. He retreated, a few steps.
“I—I—well, we went down to the Toast and Jam.”