"Oh!" exclaimed the young woman.
"You don't suppose——"
"It couldn't possibly be that——"
"Wait a minute, please. Just a minute." Sears held up his hand. "Where did those folks of yours see this tramp? Were they in a—in a kind of roundhouse—summer-house, you might call it?"
"Why, yes. They were in the Eyrie."
"That's it, the Eyrie. And is one of the—er—ladies rather tall and narrow in the beam, gray-haired, and speaks quick and—school-marmy?"
"Yes. That is Miss Elvira Snowden."
"Of course—Elvira. That's what the other one called her. And she—the other one—is short and broad and—and hard of hearin'?"
"Yes. Her name is Aurora Chase. Is it possible that you——"
"Just a second more. Has this short one got a—a queer sort of hair rig? Black as tar and with kind of—of wrinkles in it?"