was worth trying. Next thing I did was to write out a wire to Beresford saying
where I was, and that I was laid up with a sprained foot, and telling him to
come down if he wasn’t busy. I had to be guarded in what I said. However, I
didn’t hear from him, and my foot soon got all right. It was only ricked, not
really sprained, so to-day I said good-bye to the little doctor chap, asked him
to send me word if he heard from Nurse Edith, and came right away back to town.
Say, Miss Tuppence, you’re looking mighty pale!”
“It’s Tommy,” said Tuppence. “What can have happened to him?”
“Buck up, I guess he’s all right really. Why shouldn’t he be? See here, it
was a foreign-looking guy he went off after. Maybe they’ve gone abroad–to
Poland, or something like that?”
Tuppence shook her head.
“He couldn’t without passports and things. Besides I’ve seen that man,
Boris Something, since. He dined with Mrs. Vandemeyer last night.”
“Mrs. Who?”
“I forgot. Of course you don’t know all that.”
“I’m listening,” said Julius, and gave vent to his favourite expression.
“Put me wise.”
Tuppence thereupon related the events of the last two days. Julius’s
astonishment and admiration were unbounded.
“Bully for you! Fancy you a menial. It just tickles me to death!” Then he
added seriously: “But say now, I don’t like it, Miss Tuppence, I sure don’t.
You’re just as plucky as they make ’em, but I wish you’d keep right out of this.
These crooks we’re up against would as soon croak a girl as a man any day.”
“Do you think I’m afraid?” said Tuppence indignantly, valiantly repressing
memories of the steely glitter in Mrs. Vandemeyer’s eyes.
“I said before you were darned plucky. But that doesn’t alter facts.”
“Oh, bother ME!” said Tuppence impatiently. “Let’s think about what can
have happened to Tommy. I’ve written to Mr. Carter about it,” she added, and
told him the gist of her letter.
Julius nodded gravely.
“I guess that’s good as far as it goes. But it’s for us to get busy and do
something.”
“What can we do?” asked Tuppence, her spirits rising.
“I guess we’d better get on the track of Boris. You say he’s been to your
place. Is he likely to come again?”
“He might. I really don’t know.”
“I see. Well, I guess I’d better buy a car, a slap-up one, dress as a
chauffeur and hang about outside. Then if Boris comes, you could make some kind
of signal, and I’d trail him. How’s that?”
“Splendid, but he mightn’t come for weeks.”
“We’ll have to chance that. I’m glad you like the plan.” He rose.
“Where are you going?”
“To buy the car, of course,” replied Julius, surprised. “What make do you
like? I guess you’ll do some riding in it before we’ve finished.”
“Oh,” said Tuppence faintly, “I LIKE Rolls-Royces, but—-”
“Sure,” agreed Julius. “What you say goes. I’ll get one.”
“But you can’t at once,” cried Tuppence. “People wait ages sometimes.”
“Little Julius doesn’t,” affirmed Mr. Hersheimmer. “Don’t you worry any.
I’ll be round in the car in half an hour.”
Tuppence got up.
“You’re awfully good, Julius. But I can’t help feeling that it’s rather a
forlorn hope. I’m really pinning my faith to Mr. Carter.”
“Then I shouldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Just an idea of mine.”
“Oh; but he must do something. There’s no one else. By the way, I forgot
to tell you of a queer thing that happened this morning.”
And she narrated her encounter with Sir James Peel Edgerton. Julius was
interested.
“What did the guy mean, do you think?” he asked.
“I don’t quite know,” said Tuppence meditatively. “But I think that, in an
ambiguous, legal, without prejudishish lawyer’s way, he was trying to warn me.”
“Why should he?”
“I don’t know,” confessed Tuppence. “But he looked kind, and simply
awfully clever. I wouldn’t mind going to him and telling him everything.”
Somewhat to her surprise, Julius negatived the idea sharply.
“See here,” he said, “we don’t want any lawyers mixed up in this. That guy
couldn’t help us any.”
“Well, I believe he could,” reiterated Tuppence obstinately.