"Well?" says he, snappin' it out crisp.
"You'd never guess," says I, smotherin' a chuckle.
"Eh?" says he, shootin' a puzzled glance at me from under them
overhangin' eyebrows of his. "Who wants to guess? What about Captain
Killam?"
"That's just it," says I. "He's flitted."
"Wha-a-at!" snorts Old Hickory. "You don't mean he has gone?"
"Uh-huh!" says I. "Been lured away. But say,"--here I indulges in my
most comic open-face movement,--"who do you suppose did the trick on
us?"
Old Hickory stares at me and waves his cigar impatient. "Go on," he
growls.
"You know Miss Vee's aunt," says I, "Mrs. Cornelia Hemmingway? Well,
she's got him. Yep! Just naturally kidnapped him, I expect. I had my
suspicions of her the minute I found the Captain was gone. So I chases
right up there. She's out. The maid admits she went away with a party
answerin' Killam's description. I wouldn't have been sure, though, if
I hadn't found a map of Florida on the lib'ry table and Nunca Secos Key
marked on it. Now, what do you know about that? Auntie! Ain't that
rich?"
No hilarity from Old Hickory--not even one of them cracked concrete
smiles of his. He just sits there glarin' at me, missin' the comedy
cue altogether.
"Young man," says he, "just a moment before we get any further off the
track.
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