Jane threw her arms around her friend and hugged her.
“You are a wonder, Mary Lou!... But—but—can you prove anything?”
“Not yet. But I mean to watch Tom Adams and see whether I can’t learn some more.”
“If he really is guilty and finds out that you suspect him,” observed Jane, “he’ll take out his spite by setting fire to this bungalow. You better be careful, Mary Lou!”
“I expect to be,” was the reply. “I’m looking for trouble!”
But she hardly expected it in the form in which it came the following day.
CHAPTER XIII
The Threat
“Is there anything I can do to help you people?” inquired Jane of Mary Louise the following morning at the breakfast table. “Pare potatoes—or something?”
“No, thanks, Jane,” returned her chum. “We’re getting along fine. I would like to have you pull a load of dishes over to the Ditmars’ for me, Freckles,” she added, turning to her brother, “in your wagon.”
“O.K., Sis,” was the cheerful reply.