The Lady Sleuths MEGAPACK TM(344)

                             “No,” said I, not relating my part in the affair; “not if our neighbor’s children were the marauders.”

                “But none of them came in for days before we left.”

                “Are there pins in the cushion?”

                “When we found it, do you mean? No.”

                I did not remember seeing any, but one cannot always trust to one’s memory.

                “But you had left pins in it?”

                “Possibly, I don’t remember. Why should I remember such a thing as that?”

                I thought to myself, “I would know whether I left pins on my pin-cushion or not,” but every one is not as methodical as I am, more’s the pity.

                “Have you anywhere about you a pin like those you keep on that cushion?” I inquired of Caroline.

                She felt at her belt and neck and shook her head.

                “I may have upstairs,” she replied.

                “Then get me one.” But before she could start, I pulled her back. “Did either of you sleep in that room last night?”

                “No, we were going to,” answered Isabella, “but afterwards Caroline took a freak to sleep in one of the rooms on the third floor. She said she wanted to get away from the parlors as far as possible.”

                “Then I should like a peep at the one overhead.”

                The wrenching of the pin-cushion from its place had given me an idea.

                They looked at me wistfully as they turned to mount the stairs, but I did not enlighten them further. What would an idea be worth shared by them!



                             Their father undoubtedly lay in the back room, for they moved very softly around the head of the stairs, but once in front they let their tongues run loose again. I, who cared nothing for their babble when it contained no information, walked slowly about the room and finally stopped before the bed.

                It had a fresh look, and I at once asked them if it had been lately made up. They assured me that it had not, saying that they always kept their beds spread during their absence, as they did so hate to enter a room disfigured by bare mattresses.

                I could have read them a lecture on the niceties of housekeeping, but I refrained; instead of that I pointed to a little dent in the smooth surface of the bed nearest the door.

                “Did either of you two make that?” I asked.

                They shook their heads in amazement.

                “What is there in that?” began Caroline; but I motioned her to bring me the little cushion, which she no sooner did than I laid it in the little dent, which it fitted to a nicety.

                “You wonderful old thing!” exclaimed Caroline. “How ever did you think—”

                But I stopped her enthusiasm with a look. I may be wonderful, but I am not old, and it is time they knew it.

                “Mr. Gryce is old,” said I; and lifting the cushion, I placed it on a perfectly smooth portion of the bed. “Now take it up,” said I, when, lo! a second dent similar to the first.