"Eh?" says I. "She didn't tell you where she was working."
"She didn't need to," says Vee. "The name was in the hat lining—the Maison Noir."
"Say, you're some grand little sleuth yourself, ain't you?" says I.
"And that explains," Vee goes on, "why I happened to remember the Stribbles today. I must have seen her there. Yes, I'm sure I did—that pale gold hair and the old ivory complexion are too rare to——"
"Why!" I breaks in, "that's the description Crosby Rhodes gave me of this show window charmer of his."
"Was it?" says Vee. "Then perhaps——"
"But what could she have been doing, posin' in the window?" I asks. "That's what gets me."
It got Vee, too. "Anyway," says she, "you must meet that Mr. Rhodes tomorrow and tell him what you've discovered. He's rather a nice chap, isn't he?"
"Oh, he's all right, I guess," says I. "A bit soft above the ears, maybe, but out in the tall timber I expect he passes for a solid citizen. I don't just see how I'm going to help him out much, though."
"I'll tell you," says Vee. "In the morning I will 'phone to Madame Maurice that I want you to see the frock I've picked out, and you can take Mr. Rhodes in with you."