“Did the busses run again on Friday? Are they running now?” were Marjorie’s questions, uttered in quick succession.
“No, sir; they aren’t running yet. And Mariani isn’t giving good service. I know of a number of different girls who have since then ’phoned for taxies, and have had no service. Whenever they’ve called on the ’phone about it, no one at Mariani’s garage has seemed to know anything,” Barbara finished disgustedly.
“What did Signor Baretti say about the busses not running? Did he find out what the trouble was?” Again it was Marjorie who questioned.
“He hadn’t found out the reason when he came to the gym after the game on Thursday. He said he would, though. I know he will. He is the never-give-up kind. When he does find out we’ll hear from him.” Robin said this with the utmost confidence.
“And now, may a poor, timid Irish woman ask a question?” Leila had been listening to Robin, an inscrutable smile touching her red lips. Her bright blue eyes were alive with a cold sparkle which Jerry had once declared looked like fire behind ice.
“Do ask it.” Jerry had instantly marked the expression. She straightened in her chair, the picture of expectation. Leila was about to say something startling.
“That I will.” Leila flashed Jerry a knowing smile. “What has Leslie Cairns to do with the second act of the Tragedy of Page minus Dean?”
“Now you have asked a question.” Ronny’s gray eyes gleamed shrewdly as she brought out the crisp commendation. “When we fit an answer to that very leading question we’ll probably know why the busses stopped running.”