“And we are likely to be the ‘hook or crook,’” observed Billie, through whose mind these thoughts were passing, as she guided the Comet into a broad, spacious street, lined with beautiful stone houses.
“Where does Evelyn live?” asked Nancy. “Couldn’t we go by the house on our way to the hotel?”
“Their town house is on this very street,” answered Evelyn’s lover, “but they are likely to be in the country at this time of the year. That’s another difficulty. You will see the place presently. It’s on the corner. Old Stone is a very rich person, I’m afraid. If he hadn’t had so much money, he wouldn’t have looked down on me as a son-in-law.”
Billie slowed up as they neared the fine granite mansion built by Evelyn’s father. The front shades were all pulled down, and there was not a sign of life about the place.
“It looks more like a prison than a home,” Billie exclaimed. “Does he keep his pretty Evelyn locked up there all winter?”
“I’m afraid so,” said Daniel ruefully. “She hasn’t had much liberty since she met me, anyhow. He’s an infernal old——”
Daniel broke off in the middle of a sentence, for the front door of the Stone house had opened, and there on the threshold, like a dragon at the castle gate, stood John James Stone. He could never be said to glance casually at anything, but his sharp eyes only rested for a moment on the passing motor car, and he turned on his heel and entered the house.
“The old fox is never away, you see,” ejaculated Daniel Moore.
But they soon approached an immense, splendid hotel, and the thought of hot baths and clean clothes was sweeter to the weary ladies at that moment than the most idyllic romance ever conceived.
It was to this hotel that Daniel Moore’s luggage had been checked, and there he found and redeemed it with the check the late train robber had considerately returned to him.