“Mrs. Massey, I’m not a bandit, and I’m not as impertinent as your husband seems to think, although I may be a trifle unconventional, but it is necessary for me to find out when Joyce Radway left this house and I mean to do so. If you’ll excuse me I’ll just step upstairs and speak to your son a minute. Don’t trouble yourself to lead the way. I’ll find him all right—”
He took one swift stride into the hall, before Eugene realized what he was doing and bustled irately to stop him. But the stranger did not need to go far, for Junior in bare feet and pajamas was hanging over the balustrade, his ears alert for the family scene.
“Hello, Buddie,” the young man said in a tone he might have used to an older pal.
Junior straightened up involuntarily and a gleam came into his eye. He threw one leg over the balustrade and balanced grinning, emitting a low “’ello!” It was plain that he was both pleased and embarrassed.
“Still interested in that baseball bat of mine, are you Kid?”
“Sure!” responded Junior coming down to the steps again and sticking his tongue in his cheek expectantly.
“Well, how about that package you were to deliver? Did you deliver it last night?”
Junior hung his head, and wriggled on one bare toe.
“Couldn’t,” he murmured in a low voice. “She went away ’fore I had the chance. She didn’t come back yet.”
“That’s all right, son,” said the young man pleasantly, “That’s all I want to know. May I trouble you for the package?”