Part 13 (1/2)

He did not reply, for already he was searching through the acc.u.mulation of odds and ends with which the store-room was stocked.

”Perhaps I can help you,” suggested Mary Louise.

He turned to her, seeming to hesitate.

”One was a chair; a chair with spindle legs and a high back, richly carved. It is made of black oak, I believe.”

”Oh, I remember that well,” said the girl. ”Mrs. Charleworth bought it from us.”

”Mrs. Charleworth? Well, perhaps she will return it to me. I know the lady slightly and will explain that I did not wish to part with it.”

Still his eyes were roving around the room, and his interest in the chair seemed somewhat perfunctory. ”The other piece of furniture was a sort of escritoire, set on a square pedestal that had a carved base of lions' feet.” His voice had grown eager now, although he strove to render it calm, and there was a ring of anxiety in his words.

Mary Louise felt relieved as she said a.s.suringly:

”That, at least, I can promise you will be returned. My friend, Josie O'Gorman, bought it and had it sent to our house, where she is visiting. As soon as some of the girls come here to relieve me, I'll take you home with me and have Uncle Eben carry the desk to your house in our motor car. It isn't so very big, and Uncle Eben can manage it easily.”

The tense look on the man's face relaxed. It evident that Professor Dyer was greatly relieved.

”Thank you,” he said; ”I'd like to get it back as soon as possible.”

But when, half an hour later, they arrived at the Hathaway residence, and met Josie just preparing to go out, the latter said with a bewildered look in her blue eyes: ”The old desk? Why, I sent that home to Was.h.i.+ngton days ago!”

”You did?” Mary Louise was quite surprised. ”Why, you said nothing to me about that, Josie.”

”I didn't mention it because I'd no idea you were interested. Daddy loves old things, and I sent it home so he would have it on his return.

By freight. You are away at the Shop all day, you know, so I asked Uncle Eben to get me a big box, which he brought to my room. The desk fitted it nicely. I nailed on the cover myself, and Uncle Eben took it to the freight office for me. See; here's the receipt, in my pocket-book.”

She unfolded a paper and held it out to Professor Dyer, who read it with a queer look on his face. It was, indeed, a freight receipt for ”one piece of furniture, boxed,” to be s.h.i.+pped to John O'Gorman, Was.h.i.+ngton, D. C, The sender was described as ”Miss J. O'Gorman, Dorfield.” There was no questioning Josie's veracity, but she called the black servant to substantiate her story.

”Yes, Miss Josie,” said Uncle Eben, ”I done took de box to de freight office an' got de receipt, lak yo' tol' me. Tuesday, it were; las'

Tuesday.”

Professor Dyer was thoughtful.

”You say your father is away from home at present?” he asked.

”Yes; he's abroad.”

”Do you suppose the freight office in Was.h.i.+ngton would deliver the box to me, on your order?”

”I'm afraid not,” said Josie, ”It's consigned to John O'Gorman, and only John O'Gorman can sign for its receipt.”

Again the Professor reflected. He seemed considerably disturbed.

”What is the business of John O'Gorman, your father?” he presently inquired.

”He's a member of the government's secret service,” Josie replied, watching his face.

The professor's eyes widened; he stood a moment as if turned to stone.