“No.” Mr. Jamieson looked slightly surprised. “I rather expected the car, but we got up all right.”
“You didn’t see him at all?” Louise demanded breathlessly.
Mr. Jamieson knew her at once, although he had not seen her before. She had kept to her rooms until the morning she left.
“No, Miss Armstrong,” he said. “I saw nothing of him. What is wrong?”
“Then we shall have to find him,” she asserted. “Every instant is precious. Mr. Jamieson, I have reason for believing that he is in danger, but I don’t know what it is. Only—he must be found.”
The stocky man had said nothing. Now, however, he went quickly toward the door.
“I’ll catch the hack down the road and hold it,” he said. “Is the gentleman down in the town?”
“Mr. Jamieson,” Louise said impulsively, “I can use the hack. Take my horse and trap outside and drive like mad. Try to find the Dragon Fly—it ought to be easy to trace. I can think of no other way. Only, don’t lose a moment.”
The new detective had gone, and a moment later Jamieson went rapidly down the drive, the cob’s feet striking fire at every step. Louise stood looking after them. When she turned around she faced Gertrude, who stood indignant, almost tragic, in the hall.
“You KNOW what threatens Halsey, Louise,” she said accusingly. “I believe you know this whole horrible thing, this mystery that we are struggling with. If anything happens to Halsey, I shall never forgive you.”