A little after eight o’clock the following morning she arrived at the Central Hotel and was informed that Mr. Tower was at breakfast. She joined him, for she had eaten nothing on the train.
“Hello, there, Elsie!” he cried, cheerily, as she seated herself at the table with him. “Have you found my niece?”
“Yes,” she replied, briefly.
“Where is she now?”
“Locked in the empty house.”
“But we don’t want her there!” he stormed. “Of all the fool places to leave her—” He stopped, remembering that he was in a public place, and refused to discuss the subject until they were both seated in his gray open roadster, speeding away from Milwaukee somewhat later in the day.
It was then that Mrs. Fishberry insisted upon an explanation of his disapproval of what she had done with Helen.
“I don’t see why I should have been bothered with her over Sunday,” she said resentfully, “when you were off having a good time!”
“Oh, is that so?” he retorted, in irritation. “Well, I told you to get hold of her—and keep her. Now if she sees me set fire to the house, how’s that going to fix me with the police?”
“I never thought of that,” admitted Mrs. Fishberry.