“Yes, on a pretense of a job,” Vicki answered. “Not only that! They also planned to get her to go abroad and maybe never return.”
The Bryants both caught their breaths. Mr. Bryant got up and pulled at the wall cord to summon the butler. “I’m going to call the police,” he said.
“Wait just a minute, sir,” Dorn said. “You still have no final proof of who this girl is.”
“I have proof!” the true Lucy spoke up. “I have some proof with me and much more if I can get my things back from Mrs. Heath. Besides, I’m sure Mr. Hall and some of my San Francisco friends and old teachers will come East to vouch for me. They’ve known me all my life, and known my mother and father, too.”
“All right, all right,” the elderly man said, and passed his hand over his eyes. No one except Vicki noticed the butler waiting at the door. Mrs. Bryant stared dazedly at Dorn.
“Maybe you’d better start your explanations with the very beginning of this rotten scheme,” Marshall Bryant said. “You’re going to have to explain to us—and the police—sooner or later.”
Dorn put his head in his hands. “Very well, I will.” Then he said, “I have some papers in my brief case in the hall, sir”—Dorn stood up—“if you’ll permit me to get them.”
Suddenly he seized the false Lucy by the hand, and they ran out of the room. The butler was so stunned by surprise that he was motionless. So was everyone for a few seconds—until Vicki sprang to her feet. “Don’t let them get away!” She and the butler ran after them. She saw Dorn and the girl racing down the marble steps and along the street.
Vicki and the Bryants’ man tore after them. They were heading toward a taxicab waiting at the curb a few houses up. Vicki saw a gray-haired woman in the taxi who looked familiar. Mrs. Heath!
“Driver!” Vicki called out. “Don’t take those people! They’re criminals!”