The hour was so late that the girls did not return to the camp site. Louise soon went to her own home and Penny was left alone. She restlessly wandered about, polished the car, and fretted because neither her father nor Mrs. Weems came home. At length, for want of another occupation, she motored to the Riverview Home on the pretext of inquiring about the condition of the children rescued from the water.
“They’re doing just fine,” Miss Anderson assured her. “That is, all except Adelle. The child is very upset.”
“Has she said anything more about Mr. Blake?” Penny inquired.
“She doesn’t know his name, but she keeps insisting he was the man whose car killed her parents. I never was so mortified in my life as when she made the accusation. Fortunately, Mr. Blake did not take offense.”
Penny was eager to talk with Adelle, and Miss Anderson said that she might do so for a few minutes. The little girl had been put to bed but seemed quite content as she played with a new doll.
“Mr. McGuire sent me this,” she said, holding it up for Penny to see. “I’ve named her Imogene.”
Miss Anderson was called to the telephone. During the young woman’s absence, Penny discreetly questioned Adelle about the motor accident in which her parents had lost their lives. She was worried lest the child be upset again, but to her relief Adelle answered in a matter-of-fact tone.
“No one will believe me,” the little girl said. “Just the same, that man I saw today was the one who ran into my Daddy’s car. He had a big, gray automobile with a horn on it that played a tune.”
“A gray car?” Penny repeated thoughtfully. “I’m quite sure Mr. Blake’s sedan is dark blue. Why, you were taken home in his automobile this afternoon, Adelle.”
“It wasn’t that car,” the child answered. “He must have another one.”