"
"Ah, ditch the perjury stuff, Helma," says I. "Didn't we just follow
her in?"
"No coom yet," insists Helma in her wooden way.
That's all I can get out of her, too. It wasn't that she'd had orders
to say Auntie wasn't at home, or didn't care to receive just then.
Helma sticks to the simple statement that Auntie hasn't come back.
"But say," I protests; "we just trailed her here. Get that? We was
right on her heels when she struck the elevator. And the Captain was
with her."
"No coom," says Helma, shakin' her head solemn.
"Why, you she-Ananias, you!" I gasps. "Do you mean to tell me that--"
"I beg pardon," says a familiar acetic acid voice behind us--and I
turns to see Auntie steppin' out of the elevator. "Were you looking
for someone?" she goes on.
"You've guessed it," says I. "In fact, we was--"
"Madam," breaks in Mr. Ellins, "will you kindly tell me what you have
done with Captain Rupert Killam?"
"Certainly, Mr. Ellins," says Auntie. "Won't you step in?"
"I should prefer to be told here, at once," says Old Hickory.
"My preference," comes back Auntie, "if I must be cross-examined, is to
undergo the process in the privacy of my own library, not in a public
hallway."
Well, there was nothing else to it.
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