“I don’t know,” replied Mary Louise regretfully. “I haven’t any watch.”
“I’m going to buy you one for Christmas, if I get a check from Dad,” announced Max. “Of course, it will be late, but I’ll give you your other present first, so you wouldn’t mind that, would you, Mary Lou?”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort!” protested the girl. “I couldn’t accept it. If you get a check from your father it’s to buy something for yourself. I’ll get an Ingersoll tomorrow when I’m in town.... Now, what time is it?”
“It’s half-past eight. If you feel able, I think we better go along, because I don’t dare drive too fast on these slippery roads at night.”
“I’m all right—I only have a headache now. So let’s get going.”
Max paid the bill, and they were off.
“Now, what will your plans be for tomorrow?” he inquired, as they rode along.
“I’d like to come out here and visit that empty house with a policeman,” she replied. “If it’s possible, I will. But of course I have to see what turns up at the hotel. That is my real job: I’m being paid for it, and my father and Mrs. Hilliard are counting on me to do my best.”
“I wouldn’t care if you never saw Center Square again,” muttered Max resentfully. “Still, it would be great to catch the guy who threw that rock at you.”
“And find out whether the girl really was Margaret Detweiler. Yes, and I’d like to see that ugly woman again. I’ve seen her face before somewhere, but I can’t place her. You don’t forget a face like that.”