“But—suppose you aren’t able to get to a window?”
“Oh, then wait half an hour; when the time’s up run down to Cross River in the car and phone the state police and get them up here just as soon as possible.”
“Why not get them up here now?”
“Because we really haven’t got anything to go on. Chances are they wouldn’t come and I want to be able to pin something good and definite on Mr. John J. Joyce before we get the police on the job.”
Bill seemed impressed by her reasoning. “I guess you’re right. If Stoker and Terry are in Nearma and we can prove it, J. J. J. will have a nice little charge of kidnapping to face.”
“And I want to get him for grand larceny and conspiracy as well,” she returned. “That may sound ambitious, but I want to land that gentleman and his friends on a bunch of counts that will send them to Sing Sing for a very, very long time.”
“You and me both. I don’t know what Joyce’s plans are, but after listening to his bark last night, I’ll bet they’re something pretty rotten. Hello!—There’s Uncle Abe beckoning.”
They caught up with the old darky who was peering through the woods to their right.
“Yonder’s de stone fence, Missy,” he announced, “an’ beyon’ am Marse Joyce’s prop’ty. De house am ’bout fifty yards from de fence.”
“Good. Bill, you go ahead and lay low behind some of the bushes near the house. Uncle Abe and I will be along in a minute.”