“Gone!” was Florence’s intuition.
She was right. On the paper, written in the round hand of the lady cop, were these words:
They are gone. I must follow. Good-bye, girls. And thank you. I hope to meet you in another world.
The Lady Cop.
For a moment they stared in silence.
“Gone!” Florence repeated at last. “They have gone! She means the gamblers.”
“Another world,” Jeanne read in a daze.
“And we have her trunk!” Florence exclaimed suddenly.
“Her trunk?” Jeanne’s eyes opened wide in astonishment. She had not been told of this episode.
“Sit down.” Florence eased herself unsteadily to a low railing. Then she told the story of the trunk.
“And now,” she concluded, “we have that mysterious trunk, which was wanted by the gamblers, though why, not even the lady cop could guess, on our hands. They want it. She wants it. We have it. And we do not know her real name. She implied the Miss Weightman was an assumed name. What a pickle!”