CHAPTER VIII

THE ARRIVAL OF JOSIE O’GORMAN

Josie O’Gorman did not bother to ring the doorbell next morning. She went around to Aunt Sallie’s outside kitchen door, which always stood open at this hour, and after a word of greeting to the black mammy, made her way to the cosy little room which she always occupied when visiting there. Afterward she quietly unpacked the contents of her suitcase. This being accomplished Josie went downstairs to find Colonel Hathaway there alone, sipping his coffee behind his newspaper while awaiting Mary Louise.

“Good mornin’,” she said, and threw her arms around her old friend and heartily kissed him.

“I hope that cackle I hear from the kitchen means an egg, and the egg another kiss,” remarked the old Colonel, smiling at her. “I am very glad you are here. You’ll be a great comfort to Mary Louise, I can assure you, for she has already exhausted our resources and I’m quite sure she’s on the ragged edge of nothing.”

“What’s wrong, Colonel?” asked Josie, as Aunt Sallie brought in her coffee.

“Everything--and nothing,” replied Colonel Hathaway, in a way, testily, and yet with an amusing expression. “But here she comes and you can get all the points of the terrible tragedy.”

Mary Louise entered the breakfast room briskly, as if fully expecting to find her old friend there, for she knew that Josie would not lose a minute in answering her summons. Indeed, her telegram of the evening before quite settled the matter as far as _she_ was concerned.

“What’s gone wrong?” she asked again, when they had seated themselves, after the exchange of a hearty kiss, at the table.

Mary Louise, in a despondent voice, replied: “Everything has gone wrong, dear. There was a beautiful automobile at the auto show a while ago, and as Gran’pa Jim’s big old car had no one, from Uncle Sam to a grasshopper, to care for it any longer, I induced him to let me trade it in for the beauty I have referred to. _I_ didn’t care much for Gran’pa’s rattletrap, but its wheels went round nevertheless.”

“I know,” nodded Josie, over her ham and eggs.

Then Mary Louise went on about her discovery of Danny Dexter, and his quaint manners, and the methods he employed in abdication.

“We’ve tried every method we could think of,” concluded the girl, “and the result is that yesterday we wired you, at Gran’pa’s suggestion.”

“What!” in amazement. “Do you mean that the dear Colonel has at last acquired sufficient confidence in my ability to entrust me with a job of this sort?”

The Colonel’s eyes could be seen just above the edge of his newspaper, and both Josie and Mary Louise thought they twinkled.

“If it can be done,” he muttered, “Josie is as likely to do it as anyone on earth. And she’s fond of Mary Louise, so I’ve an idea she’s better fitted than anyone else. But it’s a stiff job.”

“Yes, it is,” said Josie, in the same monotonous voice. “To recover lost automobiles is almost impossible in small towns,” added Josie. “Tourists are mighty numerous, and if one of these transients took the machine, such a person would surely drive off as soon as possible.”

“But how can that be,” protested Mary Louise, “when Danny Dexter had the car in his keeping, and now he is missing as well as the machine?”

Josie laughed joyously.

“But who told you it was Danny who ran away with your beauty,” demanded Josie. “On the other hand, I’m growing more and more to favor this young man. If he can’t ‘own the dear little thing,’ the next best thing is to be its chauffeur. Tell me some more about him--all you know.”

Mary Louise flushed at this tribute, but she allowed the Colonel to depict Danny’s character before she gave her own glowing opinion of him.

Josie slowly shook her head.

“There’s something wrong about this whole affair,” she reflected; “either he’s suspiciously bad, or he’s undeniably good--one of those perfect examples given us by the good Lord to pattern after. I’m afraid of those goody-goodies till I can make a hole in them and see what they’re stuffed with.”

“At present your chauffeur is as invisible as your machine,” she said at last, “and so we must wait for a more promising clue.”

“Well, what’s to be done first?” inquired Mary Louise, impatiently. “While we’re talking and fussing here, that car is getting farther and farther away from us.”

“True,” assented the girl detective, calmly, “but I need a good breakfast to fit me for a hard day’s work--and I’m getting it.”

“You’re stuffing yourself like a cormorant!” said Mary Louise. “Why, I’ve seen you go for twenty-four hours without eating, Josie O’Gorman.”

“Under other circumstances. My! how good this ham and these eggs taste after a foodless night. But I’m thinking while I chatter, Mary Louise, and if you don’t like my methods of detection, discharge me on the spot, Miss Burrows,” she said with mock dignity.

“Oh, hurry up, Josie. What’s first on your program?”

“First, we must visit an old friend, Charlie Olmstead--and--”

“Oh, we’ve been through all that yesterday--and the evening before,” Mary Louise retorted. “What do you imagine we’ve been doing all this time?”

“Can’t imagine,” said Josie, meekly; “but anyone who would let a youth and a bran’ new auto get away from them so easily would do ’most anything. I suppose you’ve interviewed the postmaster, also?” She asked in a tone that was meant to be casual.

“One of our first acts, of course.” Josie smiled over Mary Louise’s head, but the old Colonel caught the expression and answered, to assist his dearly beloved grand-daughter:

“We may have acted foolishly, Josie, but you may be sure we acted. The interview has, you must admit, rendered it unnecessary for you to do the same thing and so has saved you the loss of considerable time.”

Josie again smiled.

“You’ve now told me all you know about the automobile, and all you know about the queer fellow who acted as chauffeur and did other jobs around the place. You have practically ended your resources and want to put the case in my hands. I want to take it, for it’s one of those odd cases that appeal to an amateur detective. Why, even daddy has been mixed up in some of these ‘lost automobile’ cases, and has found to his embarrassment that some of them have baffled him to this day. Some of those mysteries of stolen cars proved so tame that dear old daddy fairly blushed to discover how cleverly, yet simply, they had fooled him.”

“But you say he recovered _some_ of them?” asked Mary Louise.

“Why, yes; I must credit daddy with the fact that he has recovered most of the machines--and some of the thieves.”

“Is it so hard, then, to arrest the drivers?” inquired the Colonel, curiously.

“Yes, indeed,” was the answer. “For if an auto thief discovers he is being followed by one with a faster engine or more ‘gas’ in his tank, he can just hop out and take to the woods. In some unusual cases the driver is also caught but you can see how easy it is for him to dodge his pursuers.”

“Then if no one is chasing, he can get a long way in a couple of days?” questioned Mary Louise, anxiously.

“So he can,” assented the other girl, “but I’ve had the idea that the periods an auto thief may best be arrested are,--first, just after the theft; and secondly, after time enough has elapsed to create a sense of security in the mind of the thief and cause him to cease to worry.”

“Then you think our pirate has ceased to worry?” asked Colonel Hathaway, in a misbelieving tone.

“Yes, and he’s given us a chance to follow one or two clues to our advantage.”

“In what way?” questioned Mary Louise with interest.

“The ‘dear little car’--of course, you must have named it? All automobiles belonging to girls must be named, I believe.”

“Of course. My car is called ‘Queenie.’”

“Certainly; and with a monogram on each side door.”

“Another very good clue,” said Mary Louise, “concerns the driver himself. Danny Dexter is a rather conspicuous returned soldier--not conspicuous because of his garb; he now wears the uniform of the Hathaways’ instead of Uncle Sam’s--but because of a bad scar across his forehead, which he cannot get rid of. So far, I admit we have only circumstantial evidence against the soldier, who won a ‘distinguished service medal’ and through modesty--or for other reasons--keeps this thing in his pocket instead of wearing it on his breast, as others seem proud to do. But that is no warrant for his taking ‘Queenie.’ But now let us visit the police headquarters and secure any further information there.”

Josie was following Mary Louise out when she turned and asked: “Coming with us, Colonel Hathaway?”

“Not this morning,” he replied. “You’ll want to get started and have the case well in hand before you need my assistance. If I remember rightly, Josie O’Gorman likes to work alone, so I predict it won’t be long before she’ll fire even Mary Louise and shoulder the whole thing.”

“This isn’t like the other cases in which Josie has come to our rescue,” protested Mary Louise. “It’s more like open warfare--get your eye on the thief, or on the car, and you can raise the hue-and-cry as much as you care to.”