“I never saw him except at a distance,” Madge said, “and I’ve even forgotten his name. What about him anyway?”
“His name is Clyde Wendell,” Anne supplied. “This letter is from him. He says he’s coming here to see me on important business. Now what can that mean?”
“Doesn’t he give a hint as to what the business is about?”
“Not the slightest. Here, read the letter for yourself.”
Madge accepted the typewritten sheet and after scanning it briefly, returned it without comment.
“Clyde Wendell knew more about Father’s work than any other person,” Anne declared eagerly. “Perhaps he can tell me what became of the formula.”
“But wasn’t it hidden after he left?”
“I’m not sure. Father worked on it when Clyde was here. Then they disagreed. Father thought Clyde wasn’t honest and finally discharged him.”
“Why do you think Clyde would know where it is then?”
“He was always interested in the formula, Madge. And he knew Father’s habits even better than I did. He could always recall what became of his misplaced things.”