"Missy Lizzie, sah. She arrive heah ter-day, bress her heart, an' she seen yo' a-comin', an' done tell me fo' ter ask yo' right inter de parlor. She be downstairs in a moment, Massa Brady. Come right in, gemmen, come right in." And he led the detectives into the parlor, flung open the blinds, and left the room. In a few moments the door opened and Lizzie Dalton stepped into the room and approached them, with a smile and extended hand. CHAPTER XIII. NICK WIFFLES EXPLAINS A MYSTERY. "So you found Ronald Mason prowling around the swamp, after you traced Sim Johnson down here from New York?" asked the broker's daughter, after the first salutations were over, and all were seated. "We were under the impression that he had been making this house his abode," replied Old King Brady, in some surprise. "No, indeed. George, the caretaker, declares that nobody but he and his wife have been in this house since you two gentlemen were here last." "That is very strange," said the old detective. "Why do you think so?" asked the girl, curiously. "It puzzles me to account for Mason haunting the swamp and never coming near this house. Why is he hanging around that dismal swamp? What is the attraction that keeps him there with no friends or companions but those two negroes?" "Was the other masked man a negro?" "Yes. I saw the rascal's black skin plainly." "Perhaps he is in the swamp to avoid arrest." "No, no. He would not select such a malarious hole when there are so many pleasanter places for him to abide in. There is a deeper reason behind it. We must find out what it is." "When he learns I am here, Mr. Brady, he may take it into his head to continue his persecutions." "Not while we are here to protect you." "Then you will be my guests?" eagerly asked the girl. "Nothing would afford us greater pleasure." "That makes my mind feel much easier." "If your father should yet be alive and they should have him concealed somewhere around this swamp, it might account for their presence here." "Yes, yes," she assented, eagerly. "You've proven conclusively that my poor father was not the man found in the river." "In view of the fact that the game is up, so far as Mason is concerned, I can't fathom any object he may have in keeping your father a prisoner any longer. That is, of course, presuming he really has your father alive and imprisoned anywhere." "Well," said the girl, reflectively, "I cannot give an opinion on that point at all. I can only keep on hoping that you may soon find my father, dead or alive. It would end this dreadful suspense and uncertainty about his fate." At this juncture George's wife stuck her kinky head in at the door and announced that dinner was awaiting them. The Bradys were shown to their rooms. Having washed and made their toilets as best they could, they went down and joined Lizzie in the dining-room. After that, several days and nights of hard work ensued.