“To add to our cultured brother’s oratory,” said Bill, “There certainly seems to be something pretty darned putrid in the kingdom of Denmark!”
“A whole lot nearer home, if you ask me,” broke in Dorothy.—“That old man—”
“Just a moment,” begged Bill. “Your deductions, Miss Dixon, are always noteworthy. In fact, at times, the press of our glorious country has frequently referred to you as Miss Sherlock Holmes, but—”
“Cut the comedy, Bill!” broke in the object of this effusion. “What is it you’re driving at?”
“Simply, as I was saying when so rudely interrupted, that your deductions and ideas on this business may be Aland a yard wide, but except for what you shot at me over the telephone, both Terry and I are wading about in a thick pea soup fog, so to speak. Suppose you give us your account of these mysterious happenings. That should put us ‘hep’ to the situation, and then George can tell us his end of the story, why he got tied up by these blokes and all that.”
George did not appear cheerful. “But I don’t know—” he protested. “Haven’t the slightest idea.”
“So Dorothy said over the phone. But perhaps if you start far enough back—give us the story of your life, as it were—we may be able to dig out a motive.”
“At times you show positively human intelligence, Bill!” Dorothy yawned, without apology. “Well, here goes! Maybe if Bill will let me get a few words in edgewise, I may forget I’m so sleepy!”
Chapter V
THE MOTIVE
“And then I opened the back door and found you standing there, Bill. Phew!” Dorothy ended with a sigh. “It’s almost more of an effort in the telling than it was in the doing!”