“Right now!” Peggy said eagerly. “It’s almost six o’clock, and we haven’t got too much time to get there before it’s dark. Come on! We have to get dressed for the occasion!”
XVII
Backstage Fright
Peggy giggled uneasily as she and Amy inspected themselves in the hall mirror before leaving the Gramercy Arms. “We look like a couple of character actors dressed up for a skit on the Beat Generation.”
“Or like a couple of weird vampires from a horror movie,” Amy replied with a nervous laugh.
Greta surveyed them critically. “At least you don’t have to worry about anything,” she said acidly. “Those getups would frighten off any man in the world. If the crooks do catch sight of you, all it’ll take is one look before they scream and run!”
Both girls were dressed identically, having taken their cue from Pip in the matter of appropriate clothes for playing detective in a dark alley. They wore black skirts and sweaters, black stockings and black shoes. They carried black gloves and black scarves. The scarf was necessary for Amy to cover her bright, blond hair, and Peggy thought it was a good idea for her to take one, too, as a face covering. Neither wore any jewelry at all, so there would be nothing to rattle or jingle or catch the light.
“If we’re not back by morning,” Peggy said wryly, “send out the bloodhounds for us.”
“I’m waiting up for you,” Greta said. “And if you’re not back by one-thirty, the first bloodhound to pick up your trail is going to be me. With an appropriate police escort,” she added.
“Don’t worry,” Peggy said. “We’ll be all right. Just wish us luck, and we’ll be on our way.”
“All right, then. Good luck,” Greta said, opening the door for them. “I just hope the police don’t pick you up, for looking like suspicious characters.”