Horace Ditmar answered that question by telling about the three fires at Shady Nook and by showing the paper which had warned him of the possibility of a fourth.
“Mary Louise suspected Tom Adams—the brother of this feeble-minded woman—though we don’t know yet upon what clues she based her suspicions,” he concluded. “But it looks as if Adams was guilty, for he ran away. He didn’t take Mary Louise with him—we know that, because his sister drove him to the Junction—but we’re afraid he did something to her first.”
“So our first duty is to find this Tom Adams,” announced the detective, rising. “Can you take us over to the farm now, Ditmar? Or rather, just one of us, for the other two better stay here and investigate that threat. And we want a picture of Miss Mary Louise Gay. We’ll get one of Adams and print them both in every newspaper in the country.”
“But that’s not the only clue we’ll work on,” put in another of the men. “That may be entirely wrong, and Miss Gay may just have met with an accident, or even lost her memory. There are many cases of that, you know.”
Mrs. Gay nodded. That was just the trouble: so many dreadful things might have happened to Mary Louise!
However, she resolved to keep up her spirits until she actually heard bad news. She could endure the tension in the daytime, she thought, by keeping herself active; perhaps, before night, her husband would come.
So she hunted out some pictures of Mary Louise for the detectives and answered their questions for an hour. Just as the two men left to go to Ditmars, to investigate the threat and guard Adelaide, the roar of an airplane in the sky drew Mrs. Gay’s attention. It was an auto-giro, fluttering over a near-by field where there did not happen to be any trees.
Breathlessly she waited while it made its landing. But the motor did not stop, and only one man got out of the cockpit. Then, as the auto-giro speeded away, the man on the field began to run towards Shady Nook. In another moment she identified him as her husband—Detective Gay, of the police force!
He took the porch steps two at a time and, out of breath as he was, lifted his trembling wife into his arms. For the first time since the disaster Mrs. Gay broke down and sobbed. But what a relief it was to give way to her feelings at last! Her husband shared her anguish and understood, comforting her as best he could with words of assurance.
“We’ll find her, dear, I’m sure we will!” he said. “Mary Lou isn’t a baby: she’ll show lots of pluck and courage. I’m counting on that daughter of ours every time!”