“And that,” Mr. Jewett concluded, “is how it chanced that an hour later Winifred was restored to the arms of her mother, who at once canceled her passage for Europe, as a year abroad would not be needed to disillusion the little would-be actress.”
“That wonderful Miss Merryheart!” Bobs said irrelevantly, “I love her and I want to know her better.”
Mr. Jewett smiled, “Miss Vandergrift, as you say, you are not exactly a successful detective, and yet, in both of the cases on which you have been engaged you have accomplished what might be called indirect success. For, even though you did help him to escape, you discovered the thief of the rare old book, and you have been instrumental in restoring a lost girl to her mother. Now, I have another case and one quite different for you. Do you wish to take it?”
Bobs laughed. “Mr. Jewett,” she said, “like Winnie, I fear that I, too, am disillusioned. I find that a detective is not allowed to have sympathy. Honestly, if my life had depended upon it, I couldn’t have turned that old man over to justice; but what is the new case?”
Roberta could not believe that she was hearing aright when he told her.
“Mr. Jewett,” she exclaimed, “will you kindly say that over again?”
The young man was finding his new assistant refreshingly different.
“I merely stated that I would like you to help us find the heir to the Pensinger Mansion, who—” he paused and snapped his fingers. “I declare,” he ejaculated, “I had quite forgotten for the moment that is your present home. All the better, for there may be some important evidence right on the premises. Come into my office and I will read all the data that we have filed up to the present.”
Very much interested, Roberta followed the young man, wondering what she was to hear.
When they were seated, Mr. Jewett said: “Perhaps you know something of the story of the Pensinger family?”