"Who? What did you say?" the woman, evidently elderly, asked.
Linda repeated her message.
"You want my son?" she guessed. "You are Miss Smith?"
"No," replied Linda, firmly. "But we are from Carwein and Co., linen importers, and we want to see him."
"Oh—I—don't know where he is," stammered the other, nervously. "Miss Smith knows. Anna Smith. Ask her."
"But where is Anna Smith?" persisted Linda.
"I don't know anything about it at all!" protested the woman. "Good-by!"
Linda turned excitedly to Louise. "We're on the right track," she said. "But imagine locating an Anna Smith, North America!" She shook her head hopelessly.
"It wouldn't do much good anyway," remarked her chum. "This Hofstatter is probably some weak fellow, who will do anything for money. Our best plan is to strike out for the Convent."
"What do you say if we cut out the stop at Montreal altogether?" asked Linda, studying her map. "This Convent is between Montreal and Quebec, and I don't see why we shouldn't fly straight to it. We'll save a lot of time."