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Page 39
Billy looked at him a minute. "There's no use in your being
disagreeable," he remarked. "I didn't thrust myself upon you because
I was attracted to you, at all. But I thought you were a sensible,
masculine human being who was interested in Miss Beecher's
whereabouts."
"I beg your pardon," said the other young man. "I am--I mean I am
interested--if you think there is anything really wrong. But I do
not see your point."
"Well, now, see if you can see this. I wired the consul there and
some other fellow at the port, and they wired back that no people of
the name of Maynard have arrived on any of the boats for the past
two weeks--that was as far back as they looked up. Now that's
_queer_."
"He could be mistaken--or they could have bought some one else's
accommodations--and that would account for the hastiness of their
plans," Falconer argued.
"But what train did she go on?"
"What train? Why, the express for Alexandria."
"That left at eight-thirty. Now why in the world would she rush away
in the middle of the afternoon, sending a telegram from the station
and leaving her packing undone, for an eight-thirty train?"
"Why I--I really can't say. She may have had errands----"
"Where did she have her dinner? Did she dine with friends at some of
the hotels? What friends has she here?"
"I really can't say as to that, either. I wasn't aware that she had
any."
"And where did she send that telegram from? There isn't a copy of
any such telegram at the offices I've been to--at Cook's or the
station. It might have been written on a telegraph blank and sent up
by messenger with the money--but why not come herself, with all that
time on her hands? And nobody remembers selling her any ticket to
Alexandria--and you know anybody would remember selling anything to
a girl like that."
Falconer was silent.
"And nobody at Cook's paid out any money on her letter of credit--or
cashed any express checks for her. Where did that money come from
that was sent back to the hotel?"
"But what is the point of all this?"
"That's what I just particularly don't know.... But it needs looking
into."
Falconer favored him with a level scrutiny. "How long have you known
Miss Beecher?"
"I met her the night before last. That, however, doesn't enter into
the case."
"It would seem to me that it might."
"Between three days and three weeks," said Billy, remembering
something, "the difference is sometimes no greater than between
Tweedledum and Tweedledee." He smiled humorously at the other young
man, a frank, likeable smile that softened magically the bluntness
of his young mouth. "That's why I came to you. You are the only soul
I know to be interested in Miss Beecher's welfare. The Evershams are
off up the Nile--and they'd probably be helpless, anyway. Besides,
you know more about this blamed Egypt of yours than I do.... Have
you any idea where she went yesterday afternoon?"
"Not at all."
"Neither have the Evershams. They were surprised when I asked them
about it this morning. They didn't know she was going. Now she went
somewhere in a limousine----"
"Probably to the station."
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