“Of course, Motor Matt, I hadn’t anything to do with that part of it. Pearl and Sanders and I were to look after you.”
“How did you happen to be hidden away on the Boston Post Road?”
“We thought that was safer than to meet you at Rye.”
Dimmock had a complaisant air—entirely the air of a man whose plans are succeeding, and with ultimate victory assured.
“What was the use of all this juggling with taxicabs and touring cars?” continued Matt.
He was groping for information, in order to lead up to the announcement that Tibbits, Dimmock, and the rest were having their trouble for their pains.
“You see,” explained Dimmock, “it was easier for Pearl to work alone, and pretend to be a messenger for the brokers. If Sanders and I had been along, you’d have suspected something.”
“I suspected something, anyhow, and if you hadn’t resorted to violence, back there on the road, your daughter would have been held in the Rye police station until I could have learned more about what was going on.”
“Which shows our wisdom in waiting for you on the other side of Rye,” commented Dimmock.
“What’s back of all this, Dimmock?” demanded Matt.