“Go home, of course,” said Ethel.
“I’m not so sure of that,” put in Marjorie, who was slowly regaining her courage. “That may not be practical. In the first place, it might be difficult to secure good accommodations from here back to the east; and in the second place, I’d like to see our friends again.”
“What friends?” demanded Florence.
“Aunt Emeline and the Crowells. I’m simply not content to let the matter drop—I mean about all those misfortunes which we met with on the way out. Why, even those two officers thought it was unusual.”
“I wonder,” mused Lily, “whether we ever would have found out, if this hadn’t happened. It hardly seems possible—”
“It wouldn’t have seemed possible on the way out if we hadn’t known that it was a fact,” Marjorie reminded her. “Imagine having one’s clothing stolen!”
“But how do you think you can find out anything now?” inquired Daisy.
“I don’t know—only by some sort of detective work, like we managed last summer. Now my plan is this: to wait here until Jack and John turn up later in the day, consult them, and ask them to help us. What do you all think?”
Daisy suddenly heaved a great sigh; she was weary of the whole proceeding.
“I’m going home!” she announced. “Before we get into any more trouble. Who will go with me?”