Suddenly the phone went dead, and Marc looked up dazedly. "I just can't believe it!" he groaned. "I must be dreaming."
"What's wrong," asked Toffee, "that isn't already?"
"I—I've been kidnapped," Marc said wonderingly. "I—I mean, they're holding my brief case for ransom."
"Who is?"
"I don't know. It was a woman that called. Probably the blonde. She was undoubtedly paid off to make the phone call, too. I'm pretty sure it's someone else that has the copy."
"But the blonde is a lead," Toffee pointed out.
"Yes," Marc agreed. "I've simply got to get ahold of that girl."
"You go around, getting ahold of any girls," Toffee warned, "and I'll be down on you like the wrath of the Gods. You'd better hire yourself a detective."
Marc stared at her thoughtfully. "That's not a bad idea," he said finally.
"Of course it isn't," Toffee replied proudly. "You stick to me, and I'll have everything straightened out in jig time."