“I won’t promise. By the way, I’ve decided that we’ll all go over to the Royal Hotel for dinner tonight. It will be a nice change—and you girls can dance afterwards, because practically everybody from Shady Nook eats there now.”
“Everybody except the Ditmars,” said Mary Louise, with a significant look at Jane.
She said nothing further about the young couple now, but an hour later, when the two girls were getting into their bathing suits, she mentioned the Ditmars again.
“I’ve come to the conclusion that the criminal, the person responsible for the fires, is one of two people,” she said, “with the possible chance of a third.”
“You suspect Horace Ditmar, of course?” asked Jane.
“Yes. I think everything points to him. First, he has the motive. To get work for himself—to plan new houses to take the place of those that have been destroyed. If you’ve noticed, Jane, the three places that have been burned have all been big, expensive ones. The finest at Shady Nook! The Smiths and the Hunters are rich people, well able to afford to rebuild. And Flicks’ was such a flourishing business that anybody would naturally expect them to want to start it up again.
“Next, Horace Ditmar had the opportunity. He was absent from the two parties which were going on when the Hunters’ and Flicks’ places burned, and he could easily have slipped out last night and set Smiths’ on fire.
“And last—and most important of all, Dad often says—Ditmar’s the kind of man who could do it. Quiet, almost sullen, I think, and deceitful. I’ve never spoken two words with him, but that’s my opinion.”
Jane nodded solemnly: her chum’s logic appeared sound.
“But still,” she remarked, “Horace Ditmar isn’t profiting any by these fires. Nobody seems a bit inclined to rebuild.”