“Come inside and sit down,” he said authoritatively. “I’ll tell you what I’ve been doing, but don’t stand out here like this and get yourself all worked up for nothing.”
He threw up the window, and went in first, turning on the light, and Eveley followed him numbly.
“Now sit down and I’ll tell you. I have been sleeping in the garage ever since you got mixed up with that bunch of Bolshevists and—er Greasers. I thought something might happen and I’ve sort of stuck around. I had a key made to the garage, and I’ve got a nice bed fixed up in the attic.”
Eveley held out her hand with a faint smile. “You are a good friend, Angelo, sure enough. But there was no danger. And oh, where can my Marie have gone?”
“Are her things here?”
Acting instantly upon the suggestion, Eveley ran into the other room followed closely by Angelo. Every slightest scrap and shred that had been Marie’s had disappeared.
“Maybe she left a note somewhere,” said Angelo.
Frantically Eveley flashed through the small rooms, searching eagerly for some final word or token. But there was nothing to be found.
“Some one has kidnapped her,” she cried, wringing her hands. “We must phone the police.”
“I wouldn’t do that—not yet. I’d phone for Mr. Nolan first. Let me do it. And why don’t you go down-stairs and ask them if they saw any one around here to-day, or saw her leaving?”