For an instant, Harry Townsend’s hand flew to his vest pocket. He rose, saying quietly to his companions: “Come away from here. Did you ever see such a stupid old fraud? A snake and a butterfly—a curious fortune indeed!”
CHAPTER XVIII—A WORD TO THE WISE
Barbara’s suspicion was now a certainty. Another person might not have been much wiser from Harry Townsend’s behavior during the telling of his fortune. But Barbara’s eyes were keen. The thief the detectives were seeking, the “Raffles” who was bowing and smiling his way through Newport society was none other than “Harry Townsend.” How to prove it? That was another matter.
“Bab,” said the other girls, appearing on her side of the tent, “what a string of nonsense you did put off on poor Harry Townsend. What on earth made you tell him about a butterfly and a snake? I suppose you had butterfly on the brain, since we had just told you of the robbery.”
“That is true,” assented Bab.
“Ruth!” Barbara turned to her quickly. “I am tired of my job. I want to quit this fortune-telling business at once. Let’s desert and go up to Mrs. Cartwright’s room and change our clothes. Do hurry!” she urged, a little impatiently.
“Oh, all right, Bab,” Ruth agreed. She stared at Barbara curiously. What had come over her friend? Harry Townsend always seemed to have such a strange effect upon her.
Barbara was thinking. How could she find the detectives, to tell them of her suspicions, while Harry Townsend still had in his pocket the jewel he had stolen?
“I want to ask you something, Mollie,” Bab announced, as the girls started for the house. “You’ll excuse a family secret, won’t you?” she asked of Grace and Ruth. “Mollie,” Bab whispered, “don’t speak out loud. Do you think you can discover who the two detectives are, and let me know as soon as I come downstairs? Don’t ask questions, please; only, I must know.”
Mollie shut her lips close together. “Yes, I’ll find out for you,” she promised.