Both the older folks laughed at that.
“No, not exactly,” replied Miss Manners, “but you see, they say he influenced old Mr. Townsend until he spent his own and his sister’s money. But for my part,” she hurried to add, “I could never believe that Mr. Sanders is anything but a perfectly upright gentleman, and in no way responsible for the sad state of the Townsends’ business affairs.”
“Then you don’t believe any of the stories about him, do you?” pressed Nancy. “Even Ted insists he saw him—fade away.”
The little woman, who seemed for the moment to have forgotten her troubles, looked from mother to daughter. It was so easy to interpret her thoughts. She was measuring Nancy’s courage.
“Oh, you don’t need to be afraid of frightening me, Miss Manners,” Nancy assured her, “I’m only waiting for a chance to investigate the disappearing story. I’ve been so sure I could solve the mystery, that the girls will soon be calling me a boaster if I don’t start out to do something. What do you think, really, Miss Manners?” she pressed further.
“Well, I hate to say so, but I can’t deny there is something curious about Mr. Sanders. I have often watched him around this house, when he and Mr. Townsend were such friends, and really,” she paused as if the admission were most distasteful to her, “I must say, the way those two men ran around the house—”
“Ran around! Those two old men!” cried Nancy, sitting up very straight in sudden interest.
“Yes, actually. I mean out of doors, of course,” Miss Manners explained. “But they would first fuss around the outside chimney—you know the mason work runs to the ground on my side of this house, I mean the side next to my bungalow,” she emphasized, “and there is an old-fashioned opening there. I suppose they used to take ashes out that way when they used the old grate fires.”
“Oh, I know!” cried Nancy excitedly. “That’s why Miss Townsend’s dog made such a fuss over the fireplace in the store!”
“Yes. They always had Tiny with them and the dog seemed as—crazy as the men,” Miss Manners remarked.