“By the way,” put in Lily, “I forgot to tell you that our elderly friend—the man who came on opening day, you remember, Marj—was in yesterday, and said he had passed by late one night last week and heard some queer noises. He said he and another man walked around to the garage, but they couldn’t get in.”
“Rubbish!” exclaimed Ethel, in contempt.
“All I know is,” said Marjorie, “that I wish we could find some explanation to come out with in the newspapers. The story is so common all over the city that I can’t induce any maids to take the positions as waitresses.”
“And we certainly do need them!” sighed Ethel.
“Do you know that I think those policemen weren’t much good after all!” observed Lily. “Now, if we could induce our old friend to watch for us some night—”
“I wouldn’t take a chance,” said Marjorie. “For he sort of half believes the stories—”
“But if there are strange goings-on, as he said—”
“Sis!” interrupted Jack seized by a sudden inspiration. “Let us fellows—”
“Which fellows?” asked Marjorie, sure of what he was about to suggest.
“Why, all of us—”