less I thought, the better."
"Mmm. She was crazy about Bill Calder, once. At least, she led him along in a most sensational manner. Bill's married to Martha Drayman."
"Let me get this straight. Bill is the son of the evil-mannered Mr. Calder, who barged in here last night? Bill has a sister named Beth, whom I am supposed to marry and have children by? Right? How many children, incidentally? You carelessly forgot to let me know. And Danielle Davis, the menace type, once pursued the luckless Bill, or vice versa, but it came to nothing. Bill is now married to a girl with the nice name of Martha.
A local belle, too, if she is one of the Draymans that I feebly remember."
Sarah nodded. "That's it. Well, it happens that I know that Danielle has been eating lunch in odd nooks here and there with Bill Calder--in New York--for some weeks, now. Danielle's not married. She doesn't come up here, as a rule. Makes the summer rounds--Newport--Maine--you know. But she's here this year for the season--and I'll bet that she's out to make trouble for Bill."
"Put it the non-feminine way. Trouble for Martha. I daresay, wherever that copper-tinged blonde is, there's trouble."
"So--" said Sarah, "I'll want you to keep tabs on Bill and Danielle. I want to know what they're doing. Danielle's headstrong and she's able, potentially, to ruin Bill and Martha's lives--"
"Why," he asked, accepting another cup of coffee from John, "do we wantonly barge into that private matter?"
"Because. I got Martha and Bill married, and I propose to keep them married."
Aggie nodded as if the idea were acceptable to him. "What's next on our list of meddling and peeking?"
"Next," she said, without being fazed, "is--what has happened to Hank Bogarty?
He wired four of us. Jim Calder, George Davis, Byron Waite, and me. The wires were sent yesterday morning from Albany and delivered in the noon mail.
Plenty of time for him to get here-but he didn't. No one's seen him. He may have had an accident. I'm worried about him."
"I don't think he had an accident," Aggie said. He told Sarah about the knife and the calling card.
After he had done so, he wished he had not. His aunt tried to dissemble the fact that she was now very much concerned with the absence of Mr. Bogarty. He could see her intelligent gray eyes alive with numerous speculations, the nature of which he could not guess. Her knitted red bedroom slippers tapped for a full minute. Finally she said,
"Hank belonged to a family that lived here long before your time. He went to Harvard for a year-which was all he could stand. He was a cross between a sweetie-pie and a grizzly bear--even when he was a youngster. Loved the West. Jim Calder, Dr. Davis, Byron Waite and I--backed him on a prospecting trip--and he's lived in British Columbia ever since. You remember Byron Waite? You kids used to pester him--"
Aggie nodded. "Did Bogarty make out?"
"Ye-es," Sarah admitted. "Well enough. Very well, for years. He--he paid us back, all right. And I guess he'll turn up. He was full of fun--and full of the devil too. He's the very kind of person who would stick his card on your door with a knife--to give you a shock--and to make sure you'd see it. He must have called shortly before our arrival last night--and I suppose John was out in the barn, or somewhere." She hesitated. "You're sure the knife was gone?"
"Yes. Certain. Do you think Calder took it? He probably did."
"I can't imagine why. He wouldn't know whose it was."
Aggie started. "Yes, he would--if he examined it when he passed it. The darned thing was monogrammed."
"With Hank's initials?" Sarah was excited.
"Search me. I didn't look. I had the calling card--and I assumed the initials were the same."
"You're a big help," Sarah said. "For an archaeologist, you did fine! Aren't you supposed to observe things--and deduce from them?"
Aggie grinned. "I draw myself up with dignity," he answered. "I am a scientist--
not a Paul Pry. How was I to
"Mmm. She was crazy about Bill Calder, once. At least, she led him along in a most sensational manner. Bill's married to Martha Drayman."
"Let me get this straight. Bill is the son of the evil-mannered Mr. Calder, who barged in here last night? Bill has a sister named Beth, whom I am supposed to marry and have children by? Right? How many children, incidentally? You carelessly forgot to let me know. And Danielle Davis, the menace type, once pursued the luckless Bill, or vice versa, but it came to nothing. Bill is now married to a girl with the nice name of Martha.
A local belle, too, if she is one of the Draymans that I feebly remember."
Sarah nodded. "That's it. Well, it happens that I know that Danielle has been eating lunch in odd nooks here and there with Bill Calder--in New York--for some weeks, now. Danielle's not married. She doesn't come up here, as a rule. Makes the summer rounds--Newport--Maine--you know. But she's here this year for the season--and I'll bet that she's out to make trouble for Bill."
"Put it the non-feminine way. Trouble for Martha. I daresay, wherever that copper-tinged blonde is, there's trouble."
"So--" said Sarah, "I'll want you to keep tabs on Bill and Danielle. I want to know what they're doing. Danielle's headstrong and she's able, potentially, to ruin Bill and Martha's lives--"
"Why," he asked, accepting another cup of coffee from John, "do we wantonly barge into that private matter?"
"Because. I got Martha and Bill married, and I propose to keep them married."
Aggie nodded as if the idea were acceptable to him. "What's next on our list of meddling and peeking?"
"Next," she said, without being fazed, "is--what has happened to Hank Bogarty?
He wired four of us. Jim Calder, George Davis, Byron Waite, and me. The wires were sent yesterday morning from Albany and delivered in the noon mail.
Plenty of time for him to get here-but he didn't. No one's seen him. He may have had an accident. I'm worried about him."
"I don't think he had an accident," Aggie said. He told Sarah about the knife and the calling card.
After he had done so, he wished he had not. His aunt tried to dissemble the fact that she was now very much concerned with the absence of Mr. Bogarty. He could see her intelligent gray eyes alive with numerous speculations, the nature of which he could not guess. Her knitted red bedroom slippers tapped for a full minute. Finally she said,
"Hank belonged to a family that lived here long before your time. He went to Harvard for a year-which was all he could stand. He was a cross between a sweetie-pie and a grizzly bear--even when he was a youngster. Loved the West. Jim Calder, Dr. Davis, Byron Waite and I--backed him on a prospecting trip--and he's lived in British Columbia ever since. You remember Byron Waite? You kids used to pester him--"
Aggie nodded. "Did Bogarty make out?"
"Ye-es," Sarah admitted. "Well enough. Very well, for years. He--he paid us back, all right. And I guess he'll turn up. He was full of fun--and full of the devil too. He's the very kind of person who would stick his card on your door with a knife--to give you a shock--and to make sure you'd see it. He must have called shortly before our arrival last night--and I suppose John was out in the barn, or somewhere." She hesitated. "You're sure the knife was gone?"
"Yes. Certain. Do you think Calder took it? He probably did."
"I can't imagine why. He wouldn't know whose it was."
Aggie started. "Yes, he would--if he examined it when he passed it. The darned thing was monogrammed."
"With Hank's initials?" Sarah was excited.
"Search me. I didn't look. I had the calling card--and I assumed the initials were the same."
"You're a big help," Sarah said. "For an archaeologist, you did fine! Aren't you supposed to observe things--and deduce from them?"
Aggie grinned. "I draw myself up with dignity," he answered. "I am a scientist--
not a Paul Pry. How was I to
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