“Honest, now, do you want to help?” he asked. “Yes, I do,” she asserted. “I’m downright fond of Maida, and though I know she didn’t do it, yet she and her father will be suspected unless we can find this other person. And the only way to get a line on him, seems to be through Rachel. Why do you suppose she ran away?” “Can’t imagine. Don’t see how she could get scared.” “No; what would scare her? I think she’s at some neighbor’s.” “Let’s you and me go to all the neighbors and see.” “All right. We’ll go in the Wheelers’ little car. Fulton will take us.” “Don’t we get permission?” “Nixy. They might say no, by mistake for a yes. Come on—we’ll just hook Jack.” To the garage they went and easily persuaded Fulton to take them around to some of the neighboring houses. And at the third one they visited they found Rachel. A friend of hers was a maid there, and she had taken Rachel in for a few days. “Why did you run off?” queried Fulton. “Oh, I don’t know,” and Rachel shuddered. “It all got on my nerves. Who’s over there now?” “Just the family, and the detectives and Mr. Keefe,” Fulton answered. “Will you come home?” “She will,” Fibsy answered for her. “She will get right into this car and go at once—in the name of the law!” he added sternly, as Rachel seemed undecided. Fibsy often used this phrase, and, delivered in an awe-inspiring tone, it was usually effective. Rachel did get into the car, and they returned to Sycamore Lodge in triumph. “Good work, Fibs,” Stone nodded his approval. “Now, Rachel, sit right down here on the veranda, and tell us about that man you saw.” The girl was clearly frightened and her voice trembled, but she tried to tell her story. “There’s nothing to fear,” Curtis Keefe said, kindly. “Just tell slowly and simply the story of your seeing the man and then you may be excused.” She gave him a grateful look, and seemed to take courage. “Well, I was passing the veranda——” “Coming from where and going where?” interrupted Stone, speaking gently. “Why, I—I was coming from the—the garage——” “Where you had been talking to Fulton?” “Yes, sir.” “All right, go on.” “And I was going—going to go up to Mrs. Wheeler’s room. I thought she might want me. And as I went by the veranda, I saw the man. He was a big man, and he carried a bugle.” “He didn’t blow on it?” “No, sir. Just waved it about like.” “You didn’t see that he had a pistol?” “I—I couldn’t say, sir.” “Of course you couldn’t,” said Keefe. “Men with pistols don’t brandish them until they get ready to shoot.” “But you saw this man shoot?” went on Stone. “Yes, sir,” Rachel said; “I saw him shoot through the bay window and then I ran away.” Whereupon, she repeated the action at the conclusion of her statement, and hurried away. “Humph!” said Fleming Stone. CHAPTER XV THE AWFUL TRUTH “Well, Fibs,” said Stone, as the two sat alone in conclave, “what about Rachel’s story?”