“This is lovely for Marjorie,” beamed Miss Vaughn, glad to see the girl so happy again. “But tell us how you happened to come.”
“No,” interrupted Marjorie, too impatient to wait; “tell us what happened to John!”
“He’ll be along directly,” replied Jack, with a twinkle in his eyes. Turning to Miss Vaughn, he added, “And your other nephew is with him.”
Marjorie only had time to notice that Milton Crowell’s face grew deathly white at this piece of information, and that Miss Vaughn’s took on a puzzled expression. Before anyone could ask any questions, another mud-spattered touring car came up the drive.
“It’s—it’s our own car!” cried Marjorie, jumping off the porch in her wild haste and excitement.
“And Vaughn at the wheel!” gasped Lily in amazement.
The car pulled up in front of the porch, behind the other, with Marjorie riding on the running-board. It seemed almost as if she wanted to hug her precious possession.
Both girls had jumped immediately to the correct explanation of the robbery, but both waited for the boys to relate the facts. They did not even ask any more questions, but continued to watch John with admiration as he accompanied Vaughn Crowell up the steps.
“There is a great deal to be explained, Miss Vaughn,” he began, after he had been duly presented; “not only by us and your nephews, but—” he glanced significantly at Cryton and McDaniel—“but by these other two young men as well. So, if you will permit, I think the best thing to do would be to go inside, and get it over at once!”
“Certainly,” murmured the puzzled Miss Vaughn, rising, and leading the way.