“In what way?” questioned Mary Louise with interest.
“The ‘dear little car’—of course, you must have named it? All automobiles belonging to girls must be named, I believe.”
“Of course. My car is called ‘Queenie.’”
“Certainly; and with a monogram on each side door.”
“Another very good clue,” said Mary Louise, “concerns the driver himself. Danny Dexter is a rather conspicuous returned soldier—not conspicuous because of his garb; he now wears the uniform of the Hathaways’ instead of Uncle Sam’s—but because of a bad scar across his forehead, which he cannot get rid of. So far, I admit we have only circumstantial evidence against the soldier, who won a ‘distinguished service medal’ and through modesty—or for other reasons—keeps this thing in his pocket instead of wearing it on his breast, as others seem proud to do. But that is no warrant for his taking ‘Queenie.’ But now let us visit the police headquarters and secure any further information there.”
Josie was following Mary Louise out when she turned and asked: “Coming with us, Colonel Hathaway?”
“Not this morning,” he replied. “You’ll want to get started and have the case well in hand before you need my assistance. If I remember rightly, Josie O’Gorman likes to work alone, so I predict it won’t be long before she’ll fire even Mary Louise and shoulder the whole thing.”
“This isn’t like the other cases in which Josie has come to our rescue,” protested Mary Louise. “It’s more like open warfare—get your eye on the thief, or on the car, and you can raise the hue-and-cry as much as you care to.”