“W—w—what gun-case?” stammered she.
Minnie gave her a supercilious glance and a shrug.
“Oh, you know,” she said. “That gun-case you took out of Jack’s car just before he went away.”
“A gun, I suppose,” Rhoda replied quickly.
“Then what did you take it indoors for?”
There was a pause. Minnie shrugged her shoulders again.
“Oh, of course, you needn’t tell me unless you like, but I can’t help guessing, can I? And I can’t help wondering why Jack looked so awfully cross when he came out again.”
“You see quite enough, without being told anything,” was Rhoda’s comment.
Minnie nodded.
“Well, I do keep my eyes open, especially in a house like this, where there is so much to see. But I shouldn’t cry, if I were you. Because nobody will ever blame you for anything that ever happens here.”