“That’s Tom Moran?”
“Yes. That’s her brother. ‘He builds bridges, and things.’ That is what Celia says. She remembers a lot for such a little thing. So I wrote to the local union in the city and asked if they knew him. And this,” said Dorothy, pursing her lips and shaking her head, “is their answer. It’s—it’s not very hopeful——”
“But for goodness sake tell me what Miss Olaine has to do with it?” demanded Tavia.
“Now, dear, you know very well I can’t tell you that,” admitted Dorothy, thoughtfully.
“She was just as startled——”
“Do you suppose it was Tom Moran’s name that startled her, or the signature of the secretary of the union? Or—or——?”
“Or, what else? What else is there in the note to scare her?” demanded Tavia.
“The school fire. Do you remember? It was an awful fire. Some of the children failed to get out in the fire drill. They were shut into a room on an upper floor, it seems to me—with a teacher——?”
“I can’t remember about it,” quoth Tavia, disappointed. “I remember the papers were full of it at the time. But what had this Tom Moran to do with it—with the fire, I mean?”
“I—I can’t think. I don’t remember his name, or any other detail of the fire,” agreed Dorothy.