“Here’s your coat,” Cassie said. “Smell the cedar. And sit down, and Dow’ll put on the overshoes— Dear me, his feet are lots bigger than yours, aren’t they? Well, you’ll just have to manage—”
Five minutes later, Leonidas managed to cut short her spirited suggestions to Leslie and Dow on the barricading of doors and repelling of boarders, and, with a forceful hand at her elbow, he propelled her down the front walk and into the funereal black sedan.
“Oh, the front seat/’ Cassie said. “We’ll all sit in front. There’s loads of room, really. Can you drive all right with your wrist, Cuff?”
“Say,” Cuff said, “I could drive this baby with my feet. Shall we go straight halfway up Arthur, huh, Bill?”
“No,” Leonidas said. “I want you to circle around the hill—can you? Good. And go to the Winthrop house. Cassie, I don’t ever recall your mentioning the name of Winthrop when we talked over my plans for building a house here.”
“I probably called it the Blodgett house,” Cassie said. “People usually do. The Blodgetts built it. He was a caterer, you know, and I always felt he let one of his pastry cooks design the house on his day off— Why, Bill?”
“The architectural dreams of a pastry cook,” Leonidas told her, “are not—er—up my alley, as Cuff might say.”
“Why are you going to Medora’s?”
“To settle a few problems,” Leonidas said, “which rankle. And while I settle them, I expect you to sit quietly in the car, and tell Cuff stories about—well, about the knights of old. Tell him Jock’s favorite about Sir Filbert and Sir Bloot. You might begin now, while I marshal my thoughts.”
For all the progress they made, Leonidas decided, his own thoughts might be encased in armor, and rusty armor at that.
“Are you marshaled?” Cassie inquired. “Because here you are. Go ahead and settle problems, if you want to. Cuff, once upon a time, there was a knight—”
Leonidas got out of the car, and walked up the short path from the porte cochere.
He banged the iron knocker and rang the bell, and decided, as he waited for someone to come to the door, that Cassie had erred on the side of restraint in describing Medora Winthrop’s house. You could not attribute an edifice like that to one poor pastry cook. Flocks of pastry cooks must have made Blodgett’s house their life work.
After listening to the descriptions of Medora Winthrop’s servants, Leonidas was prepared to be faced by Jo-Jo, the dog-faced boy. But the door was swung open by a pertly good-looking maid who took one look at Leonidas, and then, with a squeal of pleasure, embraced him soundly.
At the sound of that squeal, Cuff and Cassie came rushing from the car.
“Margie!” Cassie said. “Margie!”
“Aw, Sugar!” Happy tears appeared in Cuffs eyes. “Aw, Sugar, it’s you!”
Margie kissed Cuff, kissed Cassie, kissed Leonidas, and then kissed them all over again.
“I’ve called you,” she said at last to Cassie, “every chance I got at the phone, I called your house, but nobody answered all day. Since this morning, I been calling—”
“Sugar,” Cuff said, “what you doin’ here? When’d you come? What you doin’ here, huh?”
“Where’d you come from?” Cassie chimed in. “How long have you been here? What on earth are you in this place for?”
“It’s all because of Colonel Carpenter,” Margie said. “He was at the station this morning— You see, I didn’t tell you I was coming home so as to surprise you. Anyway, the colonel was at the station, and he asked me if I’d like to take on a job at twenty-five bucks a day, see, up here at this house. And so—”
“What was Rutherford doing at the station?” Cassie demanded. “Did he know you were coming?”
“Oh, no!” Margie said. “He just happened to see me there at the station. He come to meet a dick.”
“Dick who?” Cassie asked.
“A dick,” Margie said. “At least he looked like a dick to me. I thought he was a dick when I seen him get on the train last night. Anyway, the colonel sees me at the station, and asks me if I’ll help him out and take on a job for the day, so I said sure. He said would I come up here and keep an eye on this Miss Winthrop. And twenty-five bucks,” Margie added, “is twenty-five bucks. So I come. I tried to get you on the phone, Mrs. Price, and I tried to get Cuff— Gee, Bill, I never knew you was home, even. Listen, I told the colonel I’d stay here till he comes for me. So you go to Bill’s house and wait. I can’t let you in here, and Fm freezing to death on this step.”
“Say,” Cuff said, “was that all you had to do, huh? Just to keep an eye on this old dame that lives here?”
“Yeah. The colonel didn’t say why. He said he wanted someone should keep an eye on her, so I come. Listen, Fm frozen. You go along, and I’ll meet you at Bill’s later. I got to stay here till the old dame gets back.”
“But she’s dead, Sugar,” Cuff said. “The old dame got bumped off in Bill’s cellar, see? That’s why we’re finding out who bumped her off. On account she was bumped off in his cellar.”
Cuff’s tone implied that if Miss Winthrop had been bumped off in anyone else’s cellar, it wouldn’t have counted.
“Well, for God’s sakes!” Margie said. “And me all set to wait up for her! Say, wait till I get my coat!”
Leonidas put out a restraining hand.
“Perhaps you should wait till the colonel comes, Margie.”
“Why?” Margie asked simply. “He just told me to keep an eye on her, Bill. And listen, I’m telling you that another ten minutes in this place, and I’d be bats, see? That fish-eyed butler, he’s chased me into every corner in this house—”
“Where is the guy?” Cuff demanded ominously. “You show me that guy, Sugar, and I’ll hash him!”
“Don’t take the trouble, Cuffy,” Margie said.
