“Nick Budd!” cried the three girls together, and at the name Polly Haddon also roused from her reverie.
“You could not say certainly that it was Nick Budd?” said Miss Walters, questioningly.
“No, I couldn’t,” returned Miss Arbuckle. “But I remember thinking at the time that the fellow was acting in a rather peculiar manner, and I even thought of reporting him. I was called away by some duties then, however, and when I looked from the window again he was gone.”
“Nick Budd!” cried Polly Haddon, in an agitated tone, her hands clasping and unclasping in her lap. “You asked a while ago if there was anybody who might bear a grudge against my family, and I said there was no one. But I had forgotten poor foolish Nick Budd!”
“Yes, Mrs. Haddon?” prompted Miss Walters, while the girls exchanged excited glances.
“At one time my husband employed him as a handy man about the place,” the woman hurried on. “But after a while we noticed that things began to disappear—things that were worthless to any one else, but dear to us because of their associations.”
The girls and Miss Walters were intensely interested now. They were thinking of the numerous petty thefts that had taken place in the Hall during the past few weeks. Could there be any connection between that and Polly Haddon’s story?
“My husband charged the simpleton with taking the things,” the woman went on. “He did it gently enough, too, for he was sorry for the poor fellow, but Nick fell into one of his rages and slammed out of the house, muttering to himself. He never came back, and we never saw him again.”
“Then this boy did have some reason for wishing to get even with your husband,” said Miss Walters, all interest. “It begins to look as if he were the one who stole your invention in the first place. And if this was really Nick Budd whom Miss Arbuckle saw loitering about the school yesterday, it is probable he had something to do with its second disappearance——” she broke off suddenly, for Polly Haddon had risen to her feet.
The girls thought they had never seen such a picture of concentrated fury. She stood clutching the back of a chair fiercely and her eyes flashed fire.