“An exciting time,” replied the young man. “Mary Lou was hit on the head with a stone and knocked out. But detectives have to expect that sort of thing, I suppose.”
“Sh!” warned the girl. “Nobody except Mrs. Hilliard is supposed to know I’m acting as detective.”
“I didn’t k-n-o-w that!” apologized Max, in the tone of Joe Penner.
Mrs. Hilliard looked troubled. “Tell me what happened,” she urged.
Briefly Mary Louise related the story, and the good woman was relieved to hear that the blow was not serious. She was thankful, too, that the job at Stoddard House had not been responsible for it.
“Are the Weinbergers still here?” was Mary Louise’s next question.
“Mrs. Weinberger is. But her daughter went out early this afternoon, and I don’t think she came back. Her mother was in a great stew at supper time. You would think from the way she carries on that her daughter was a girl in her teens instead of a woman of twenty-eight or so.”
A look of disappointment crossed Mary Louise’s face.
“I must see Miss Stoddard,” she announced. “Max, you wait here with Mrs. Hilliard till I come back, because I may need you. I shan’t be gone long.”
She ran off and took the elevator to the third floor and knocked at Miss Stoddard’s door.