Classic Mystery Stories by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780486112275
Publisher: Dover Publications
Published: 2012-10-11T00:00:00+00:00

“That will appear in every New York paper tomorrow morning,” explained its deviser.

“I see,” said the girl. “Any one who attempts to take Peter Paul away will be tracked by a band of boy detectives. A stroke of genius, Mr. Average Jones.”

She curtsied low to him. But Average Jones was in no mood for playfulness now.

“That restricts the judge’s endeavors to the house and garden,” said he, “since, of course he’ll see the advertisement.”

“I’ll see that he does,” said Miss Graham maliciously.

“Good! I’ll also ask you to watch the garden for any suspicious excavating.”

“Very well. But is that all?” Miss Graham’s voice was wistful.

“Isn’t it enough?”

“You’ve been so good to me,” she said hesitantly. “I don’t like to think of you as setting those boys to an impossible task.”

“Oh, bless you!” returned the Ad-Visor heartily; “that’s all arranged for. One of my men will duly parade with a canine especially obtained for the occasion. I’m not going to swindle the youngsters.”

“It didn’t seem like you,” returned Miss Graham warmly. “But you must let me pay for it, that and the advertising bill.”

“As an unauthorized expense—” he began.

She laid a small, persuasive hand on his arm.

“You must let me pay it. Won’t you?”

Average Jones was conscious of a strange sensation, starting from the point where the firm, little hand lay. It spread in his veins and thickened his speech.

“Of course,” he drawled, uncertainly, “if you—er—put it—er—that way!”

The hand lifted. “Mr. Average Jones,” said the owner, “do you know you haven’t once disappointed me in speech or action during our short but rather eventful acquaintance?”

“I hope you’ll be able to say the same ten years from now,” he returned significantly.

She flushed a little at the implication. “What am I to do next?” she asked.

“Do as you would ordinarily do; only don’t take Peter Paul into the street, or you’ll have a score of high-school boys trailing you. And—this is the most important—if the dog fails to answer your call at any time, and you can’t readily find him by searching, telephone me, at once, at my office. Good-by.”

“I think you are a very staunch friend to those who need you,” she said, gravely and sweetly, giving him her hand.

She clung in his mind like a remembered fragrance, after he had gone back to Astor Court Temple to wait. And though he plunged into an intricate scheme of political advertising which was to launch a new local party, her eyes and her voice haunted him. Nor had he banished them, when, two days later, the telephone brought him her clear accents, a little tremulous now.

“Peter Paul is gone.”

“Since when?”

“Since ten this morning. The house is in an uproar.”

“I’ll be up in half an hour at the latest.”

“Do come quickly. I’m—I’m a little frightened.”

“Then you must have something to do,” said Average Jones decisively. “Have you been keeping an eye on the garden?”

“Yes.”

“Go through it again, looking carefully for signs of disarranged earth. I don’t think you’ll find it, but it’s well to be sure.

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