“You can lean on us all you want to,” says Poppy feelingly, as he blotted a saucer. “For we like it.”
“Yes,” says I, looking into the gray eyes, “and we like you, too. And if we can help you, we’re going to do it. Eh, Poppy?”
“You tell ’em,” waggled the other.
“I’ve already told you about the night I looked in the casket. I was suspicious then about my relative’s death, for I hadn’t been able to get much out of Dr. Madden except that the sick man had died very suddenly. Why had he died? Heart trouble, I was told briefly. Heart trouble! Every person who dies has heart trouble. The heart stops beating, for some reason or other, and that’s the end. I wanted to know what had made my relative’s heart stop. But could I pin Dr. Madden down? No, indeed! He can be as close-mouthed as Lawyer Chew when he wishes. In fact, they’re a good pair when it comes to secrecy.”
“Do you suppose they’re working together, Mrs. Doane?”
“Who? Dr. Madden and Lawyer Chew? Laws-a-me, child! They don’t even speak to each other.”
That put Poppy on his toes.
“Hot dog!” he yipped, flourishing the dish towel. And then, seeing the woman’s surprise, he went on: “It’s my hunch, Mrs. Doane, that there’s a sort of secret bond, or whatever you call it, between this doctor and the granddaughter. But it didn’t fit into my theory for two cents to include old fatty. So you see how tickled I am over what you just told me.”
“Years ago,” explained the woman, “the two men had trouble. I don’t know what over. But to my knowledge they haven’t spoken to each other since.”
The leader got all screwed up then to spring something big. I had seen it coming and was prepared for a surprise. For I knew old Poppy! When it comes to brain work, I think he’s a wonder.