“You’re a love to have such confidence in him, Cara. That helps.” Babs showed her relief. “There must be a good reason for such confidence as we have. But the poor little fellow! You see, how it looks; his wanting money so badly, and then—this.”
Cara glanced at her wrist watch. “I’ve got an hour before time to go for Mother,” she said, “so let’s go down to the beach. The brisk air will whip us up a little. We’re fagged,” she said smilingly, “especially you. Like old ladies who need catnip tea.”
A few minutes later they were discussing Nicky’s flight earnestly, and with a determined effort to help him.
“But how can we ever find him?” lamented Babs. “You know how queer those Italians are. If we just ask a question about where the Marcusis have moved to they’ll suspect we are enemies and they’ll do everything to hide their tracks. What on earth can we do?” Babs wondered and wondered.
“Are you sure no other boy was with him when he peeked in the window?” Cara questioned.
“Not sure; I couldn’t see well for it was nearly dark. But you know he is almost always alone.”
“Yes; poor kid, he doesn’t get much chance to play, I guess,” Cara replied. “Seems as if he is either selling junk or falling off bicycles. You never got any reply from Washington about his heroism, did you?”
“No. If only I did that might help,” sighed Babs. “But Cara, I can’t help thinking that Nicky looked guilty when he bolted out before Dad’s car. Even Miss Davis noticed that.”
“Oh, Miss Davis!” scoffed Cara. “She’d be sure to think that. But it doesn’t mean a thing. Babs, I’m sure Nicky wouldn’t go off without leaving some word for you. He’s too smart to forget you.”
“Why?” asked Babs innocently.