At last, however, Linda opened her eyes and reached for her wrist-watch that lay on the tiny table between her bed and Dot’s. It said twenty minutes after twelve!
She picked it up and examined it closely, unable to believe her eyes.
“Dot!” she cried. “We’ve overslept! Do you suppose the police have called? And we’ve missed them?”
“Missed—who—whom—I mean?” inquired her companion, sleepily.
“The couple we’re after! Sprague and that girl! Oh, Dot, wake up!”
“What shall we do?” asked Dot, realizing at last the seriousness of the situation.
“Get dressed at once!” replied Linda, as she rang the bell for the maid.
Almost miraculously the latter appeared in answer to the summons, with fresh sports-clothing for both the girls. And bringing telegrams and boxes of flowers.
“Have the police telephoned?” asked Linda, to the maid’s amazement.
“Police? Oh, no, ma’am. There’s been some calls for you, but not from the police. Are you expectin’ them?” She eyed the girls suspiciously, as if she thought they might be criminals.