“Well, you stay around here, where I can get hold of you, while I drive over to Adams’ farm right after breakfast. If I can locate her, I’d like you boys to keep your eyes on her all day.”
Freckles’ face lighted up with excitement.
“You can count on us, Sis!” he assured her.
“Thanks a lot. Now, you help Mother with the dishes, and I’ll run along. Want to come with me, Jane?”
“Yes, I do,” replied her chum. “I’m really interested in the mystery of the fires. I admit now that they couldn’t all be accidents.”
“And you’d kind of like to prove Cliff Hunter is innocent, wouldn’t you, Jane?” teased Freckles.
“Naturally! Who wouldn’t?” was the retort.
Mary Louise backed the car out of the garage and followed the same road she and David McCall had taken on their first visit to Adams’ farm. She drove very cautiously now, almost as if she expected Rebecca Adams to dart out again from the bushes into the path of her car.
But nothing happened, and the girls reached the top of the hill in safety. An old man was sitting out on the porch with one leg propped up on a chair. A young man was standing on the steps talking to him. He was a big fellow in overalls; Mary Louise remembered seeing him at Flicks’ the day after the fire. He must be Hattie’s brother Tom.
The girls left the car at the fence and approached timidly, not quite sure how they would be received.