“They’ll be through in a minute—the score’s five-two now,” announced one of the young men. “Then we four will have a set.”
“I don’t believe I had better play now,” replied Mary Louise, “because I have to go hunt up Hattie Adams.”
“Who’s she?”
“A girl we want to get to wash dishes at our dining room. She may be working here now. Or perhaps I can find her brother. Do you happen to know Tom Adams? A fellow who does odd jobs around the hotel sometimes?”
The boy nodded.
“Yes, I know the guy you mean. Big brute with light hair? I think he’s back in the garage now, fixing up Frazier’s truck.”
Mary Louise jumped to her feet: this was just the information she wanted. She would rather see Tom Adams than his sister, although she didn’t actually want to talk to him. Just to check up on his movements!
“Be back in a few minutes!” she called as she disappeared through the clump of bushes behind the tennis court.
In her sneakers she skipped along noiselessly, unconscious of the fact that an outsider might regard her actions as “snooping.” Yet when she stopped just outside of the garage door because she heard men’s voices inside, she realized then that she was really eavesdropping.
Immediately she identified the voices as belonging to Mr. Frazier and Tom Adams. The latter was evidently changing a tire on the truck.