“Oh, but I must!” Enid cried. “It’s the only way to save Father. The Zudi Drum is valuable, but I can’t consider the cost.”
“I was thinking of other things besides the value of the trophy,” Madge said slowly. “I was thinking of your own safety. You mustn’t go to Cedar Point alone, Enid. Turn the note over to the police. They’ll know how to deal with the situation.”
“Oh, no, I can’t do that! For Father’s sake we must obey orders implicitly. I’ll give them the Zudi Drum Bowl—anything they ask.”
Madge saw that it was useless to argue with Enid in her present distraught state of mind. However, she did not give up the idea of trying to persuade her chum to her way of thinking at a later time. She believed that they were dealing with a clever band of criminals, a group of men who would stop at nothing to further their own schemes. It seemed to her that if Enid went alone to Cedar Point, she would only invite trouble. Even if the Zudi Drum were turned over to the kidnappers, there was no assurance that Mr. Burnett would be released.
“I wish Jack French were here,” she thought, “he would know what to do.”
“I’m not sure where the Drum Bowl is,” Enid broke in upon her reflection, “but I know it’s not here on the yacht. Father must keep it with his other valuables at home. The place has been closed up for weeks.”
“But your home is two hundred miles up the coast, Enid.”
“I know, I must find some way to get there.”
“Today is the twenty-seventh,” Madge reminded.
“Perhaps Rex will take me in his amphibian. I’ll get there somehow.”