John's approval deepened.
"That's a great idea," he agreed. "What I was thinking was that I wanted to find out if Twist has a cold in the head."
"A kuk-kuk-kuk...?" said Mr. Molloy.
"Yes. You see, the burglar had. He was sneezing all the time, my informant tells me."
"Well, say, this begins to look like the goods," cried Miss Molloy gleefully. "If this fellow has a cut thumb and a cold in the head, there's nothing to it. It's all over except tearing off the false whiskers and saying 'I am Hawkshaw, the Detective!' Say, listen. You get that little car of yours out and you and I will go right over to Healthward Ho, now. You see, if I come along that'll make him all the more unsuspicious. We'll tell him I'm a girl with a brother that's been whooping it up a little too heavily for some time past, and I want to make inquiries with the idea of putting him where he can't get the stuff for a while. I'm sure you're on the right track. This bird Twist is the villain of the piece, I'll bet a million dollars. As you say, a fellow that wanted to burgle houses in these parts just naturally would settle down and pretend to be something respectable. You go and get that car out, Mr. Carroll, and we'll be off right away."
John reflected. Filled though he was with the enthusiasm of the chase, he could not forget that his time to-day was ear-marked for other and higher things than the investigation of the mysterious Doctor Twist, of Healthward Ho.
"I must be back here by a quarter to one," he said.
"Why?"
"I must."
"Well, that's all right. We're not going to spend the week end with this guy. We're simply going to take a look at him. As soon as we've done that, we come right home and turn the thing over to the police. It's only twenty miles. You'll be back here again before twelve."