Dorothy held a finger to her lips as Ned’s voice at the telephone came up to them.
“He’s calling Scranting,” Dorothy explained in a whisper. “Listen!”
They listened with breathless interest to Ned’s disjointed monologue.
“This Mr. Dougherty, Scranting station? Mr. Dougherty, Miss Dale and I forgot to ask you a very important question last night—. Oh, you thought of it too, did you?—Chicago! Where did the kid get all that money?—Yes.—All right. Many thanks for the information.—Yes, I will.—Thanks again. Good-bye!”
“Chicago!” repeated Tavia, whistling softly. “That city is a considerable distance from this place, Doro. Why, what’s the matter?” She broke off and stared at her chum wonderingly.
For, impossible as it seemed to her, Dorothy’s lips had curved suddenly in such a smile as Tavia had not seen for days.
“Oh, nothing!” said this amazing Doro. “I was just thinking that intuition is a wonderful thing sometimes!”
Even by persistent questioning Tavia was not able to discover the reason for what she called Dorothy’s “Mona Lisa smile,” but she did succeed in extracting other valuable information.
Dorothy was to follow the one clue they possessed, though it was a slight one.
“But how on earth can you go out West all alone, Doro?” cried Tavia, when her chum had announced her decision to the rather startled and excited family group.