“The prowler you saw digging here in the garden?” Miss Swenster asked in a tense, unnatural voice.
“Yes.”
“Then I think we know what became of the pearls. You should have told me before, Madge.”
“I did intend to—but——”
“I understand,” Miss Swenster interrupted, “you hoped to spare my feelings. We must try to reach my son at once!”
“He’s registered at the hotel, but I’m afraid he may be gone by this time. I heard him say he was checking out early.”
“We can’t let him get away with the pearls! Come, we’ll call a taxi.”
They rushed to the house. While Madge and Cara struggled into their wraps, Miss Swenster telephoned the nearest cab agency. In five minutes the taxi was at the door.
“To the Grand Hotel,” Miss Swenster directed, “and hurry!”
In the dim light of the cab she looked very pale but determined. She listened quietly as Madge related in detail her experience of the afternoon.