Missing at Marshlands Part 24

"Well, don't worry," Reilly said, smiling. "Remember, a murderer always returns to the scene of his crime."

"And you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear," Sim flung back at him. He did so annoy her! Imagine "studyin' it." What good would that do, and what nonsense was that about a murderer?

"That's right!" chuckled Reilly. "You know, young ladies, the whole trouble with cases of this kind is haste. Haste is what gums things up.

Go slowly, and you have much better results. You ain't told anyone in town, have you? These here people are powerful talkers."

"Not a soul, Mr. Reilly," Arden a.s.sured him.

"You keep on studying it and let us know when you learn something, will you?" suggested Sim.

"'Deed I will, and I'll have some news soon, sure. In the meantime don't forget. Look before you leap," the chief said, smiling.

"Yes," Sim said as the car pulled away, "that's good advice, and 'he who hesitates is lost' is good, too."

Reilly looked after them with a puzzled expression on his face. Was that little snip making fun of him? Then he shrugged and crawled back under the car he was trying to fix.

"Sim, you cheerful idiot, were you trying to make him mad?" Terry asked as they drove home.

"No, but he annoyed me so I couldn't help it. I don't believe he'll be a bit of good. I know more about mysteries than he does."

"But it wouldn't do to antagonize him. After all, he's the strong arm of the law down here," Arden reminded her.

"Not such a very strong arm, in my opinion," Sim answered, and she slipped deeper down in the car seat.

"Oh, well, don't let's argue," Terry soothed. "We've got too much to think about now."

Sim was instantly alert again. "I remember distinctly seeing that pin in Dimitri's tie the day he showed us the snuffbox. Melissa knows more than we think," she said.

"We don't know very much when you come right down to it," Arden reminded her. "If a real detective questioned us, there's very little we could tell him."

"How long will it take that Serge Uzlov to get down?" Sim asked of no one in particular. "I wish he'd take a plane."

"There's no place here at Marshlands for a plane to alight," Terry answered. "Unless he took a seaplane and landed on the bay. Think what excitement that would cause!"

"I suppose so," Sim admitted as they turned in the driveway. "We'll just have to wait. I won't have a fingernail left by evening. I chewed them nearly all off waiting for that phone call."

Terry whistled for her mother. At the sound of that shrill call, Mrs.

Landry, try as she did to appear rather uninterested in the whole baffling case, came out of the house quickly and listened with great interest to the story of the message.

"And, Mother," Terry finished, "as we left the store we met Melissa coming in, and she was wearing a tie pin of Dimitri's. What do you think of that?"

"Did you say anything about it?" Mrs. Landry asked.

"We didn't let her know we recognized it, and she said she found it on the beach," Terry answered.

"Perhaps she did. Surely you don't think Melissa had anything to do with all this?" Mrs. Landry questioned.

"That's just it. We don't know _who_ had anything to do with it," Terry moaned.

"Well," Sim stated firmly, "I'll feel better when that man from New York gets here. I'll bet he knows something."

The others had nothing to say to that, and they all went indoors for luncheon.

The meal was nearly finished when there was a knock at the front door.

Bells in seash.o.r.e cottages never seem to ring. They may at the beginning of the season, but almost always, before it ends, there appears over the push b.u.t.ton a little note stating: "Please knock."

Now, in answer to that invitation, a knock sounded.

"I'll go," said Ida, who had just brought in the dessert.

The three girls glanced eagerly at one another.

Was it Serge?

But in another moment they knew it was not, for they heard the murmuring of a woman's voice talking to the maid. Presently Ida came back, a frightened look on her face, to announce:

"It's a policewoman."

"A policewoman!" exclaimed Mrs. Landry. "Are you sure, Ida?"

"Oh, yes'm. I've seen 'em in New York. They all dress the same, and they have a queer look on their face, and they wear heavy shoes. It's a policewoman all right."

"But what does she want?" Terry asked.

"Melissa Clayton," said Ida.

"Oh!" murmured Arden. "If they arrest that poor child--"

"Perhaps we'd better have this policewoman in," suggested Mrs. Landry.

"Oh, yes!" said Sim. "We've got to find out about this. Perhaps she may know something about Dimitri."

CHAPTER XXIII On the Water Trail

Mrs. Landry told Ida to invite the visitor to sit on the front porch while the dessert was being eaten.

"If I asked her into the front room she would probably hear what you girls talk about," said Terry's mother, "and you are sure to talk, I know."

"You can't blame us in these circ.u.mstances," said Sim.

"No, I can't." Mrs. Landry smiled understandingly. "But why should a policewoman come here for this child?"

"We're going to find out very soon," declared Arden.