“There seems a whole lot you young ladies haven’t thought of,” he said sourly.
Miss Cartwright rose from her seat without haste. “Come, Amy,” she commanded. “We can’t wait any longer and we are not needed.”
As they turned toward the door the telephone bell rang and Taylor stayed them with a gesture. “Just one moment, please, Miss Cartwright.”
The girls watching him saw that the news was pleasant for he chuckled as he hung up the receiver. Then he rose from his seat and came to where he stood between them and the door.
“Miss Cartwright,” he cried, “when you didn’t know what town in Canada your maid was, I felt you were lying. Now I know you were. I just had my assistant telephone to your mother.” He pointed an accusing finger at them. “You never had a maid named Garnier, and the last one you had—over a year ago—was called Susan. You put the blame on a woman who doesn’t exist, and you did it to shield the real thief.” He touched the crouching Amy on the shoulder. “This is the real thief!”
“She isn’t, she isn’t!” Ethel cried.
But Taylor paid no attention to her. He concentrated his gaze on the younger girl. “You swindled the company,” he affirmed.
“No, no,” she wailed, “I didn’t.”
Ethel came to her rescue. “How dare you,” she cried to Taylor, “make such an accusation when you have no proof, nor anyone else either?”
“That’s all very well,” Taylor exclaimed, “but when we get the proof—”