“I think you’ll find that Mrs. Floyd hasn’t done any house-cleaning to-day,” said Cora. “You can’t account for the surprise that way.”
Cora was right, in so far as Mrs. Floyd was concerned. The chaperon and her husband had been away all day.
“What is it? What has happened? Is anything the matter?” asked Mrs. Floyd, as she saw the young people on the porch of the bungalow, looking in at the open door. “Is any one hurt?”
“No, it’s just the surprise,” said Cora. “Is that what has happened before, Mrs. Floyd?”
The caretaker looked inside, and caught her breath sharply.
“Yes—yes,” she answered slowly. “This has happened before, but never as bad as this. I mean it never before was quite so upset. I—I can’t account for it.”
“It’s them pesky tramps!” said Mr. Floyd. “I’ll notify the constable again; that’s what I’ll do!”
“Do you think it was tramps?” asked Jack.
“Who else could it be?” the caretaker demanded, and neither Jack nor the others could answer, though Walter asked:
“Well, if it were tramps, wouldn’t they steal something if they had the chance they’ve had to-day? Let’s take a look and see if anything is missing.”