Betty gave her a quick side-glance, hastily dusted the flour from her hands and took off her apron.
"I'm all ready," she announced. "Where are the other girls?"
"In the living room, reading and eating candy—or at least Grace is doing the candy part. Amy has sworn off, you know."
The girls agreed eagerly to the proposed swim, and in a few minutes had donned their suits and caps and pronounced themselves ready.
"I ought to get a letter from mother to-day," said Mollie, as her feet sank in the soft sand. "She said yesterday that the detectives had picked up a clue and thought they were on the right trail at last."
"Why didn't you tell us?" Betty demanded.
"Oh, I don't know," Mollie replied wearily. "I didn't think there was any use telling you until I had something really definite. You know the chief business of a detective is nosing out false clues," she finished scornfully.
"Well, I know once we met a perfectly capable detective," remarked Betty. By this time they had reached the water and she put one toe into it experimentally.
"Ouch—it's cold," she said.
"When did we meet a capable detective?" queried Mollie, looking interested.