“We’ll try, of course. But we haven’t much to work on—you can see that. If we do find her, or get the slightest trace of her, it’ll be more luck than anything else.”
“I always was lucky,” I grinned. “One time I found a horseshoe in Main Street, and when I was picking it up Mr. Kaar’s hearse came along behind me and wrecked my back porch.”
But this clever little skit was wasted on old sober-sides.
“Say, Jerry,” came thoughtfully, “do you suppose the spy is a tool of the lawyer’s?”
I looked at him, puzzled.
“But you said the spy and old Ivory Dome are in cahoots.”
“Yes,” he nodded, “I did say that—but it was just a rough guess.”
“You’re doing too much rough guessing,” I told him. “You’re getting me all mixed up. For if old Ivory Dome and the spy aren’t working together, and the old man didn’t sneak out of bed last night to let the other in, what did he go downstairs for? When I first saw him he was trying to open the kitchen door.”
“That’s so,” says Poppy thoughtfully.
“What gives you the idea,” I then inquired, “that the lawyer and the spy are mixed up together?”