“But he came here. The wedding ring was found near the pool. Surely you must have heard some sound for I know you were in this part of the garden.”
“Well, I didn’t,” the man said sullenly. “The only persons I saw were a newspaper photographer and a girl.”
“Please don’t take offense,” Miss Kippenberg murmured, getting up from the bench. “I’ve been terribly upset these past few days.”
She walked slowly to the edge of the pool. There she stopped short, staring down at an object which lay on the flagstones at her feet. It was the stick which Penny had dropped only a moment before.
“What have you found?” the gardener cried.
He went quickly to her side and took the damp stick from her hand.
“Someone has been here prying around,” he said in a harsh voice. “This was used to investigate the water in the pool.”
“And whoever it was must be close by even now. Otherwise the stick would have dried out in the sun.”
“You go back to the house,” the man commanded. “I’ll look around.”
In their hideout amid the bushes, Penny and Louise gazed at each other with chagrin. No word was spoken for even a whisper might have been heard. With a common desire for escape, they glided with cat-like tread toward the river.