But the candlesticks—except the one Babbie had seized upon—and the Flemish lamps were all in place. The gargoyles grinned serenely from their accustomed niches. The silver drawer had not been tampered with. In the kitchen the angel-food was just as Bridget had left it.
“It’s a mystery,” declared Babbie at last, “a thrilling and impenetrable mystery. When do burglars not burgle?”
“When they are frightened off,” answered Betty prosaically.
“But it wouldn’t have taken a second to dip out that money,” Babbie objected. “It was all mussed up, so some one’s hand must have been in there, since you left it in a roll——”
“Yes, in a tight little wad,” put in Betty.
“And that some one could have pulled back his hand full just as quickly as empty,” Babbie went on. “I tell you it’s a horrible mystery. I’m going to ask Robert to come over this minute and see about it.”
Meanwhile Emily, who had been doing the day’s marketing, arrived; but neither she nor Mr. Thayer could solve the “thrilling, impenetrable, horrible” mystery, though Mr. Thayer found “jimmy” marks on the shed door, and that, as Betty said, proved beyond a doubt that the burglars had been the real thing.
“Real, but very eccentric,” laughed Emily. “Let’s hope that all the Tally-ho’s burglars will belong to the same accommodating tribe.”
CHAPTER XIX
THE AMAZING MR. SMITH AND OTHER
AMAZEMENTS
“Rachel Morrison? No, not yet, but she’s coming. Everybody’s coming.”