couldn’t.”
“If she beats you,” Casey remarked, “she has my deepest admiration.”
The taffy-colored head came up quickly, and he caught a faceful of blazing eyes. “You don’t believe me!” she cried. “You don’t want to believe me! You’ve got your mind made up and that’s how it’s going to be no matter what I say. But why should I kill my father, or have you kill him? He was the only person I ever really loved!”
Phyllis Brunner brought her knees up against her chin and sat with her face buried in the folds of the blanket. She wasn’t crying again; she was just being very quiet for a few moments that neither Casey nor Maggie dared disturb. And then she raised her head and began to examine Casey’s face in the same calculating manner she had done an afternoon earlier in the Cloud Room.
“You’re going to help me find out who killed my father,” she announced quietly.
“Am I?” Casey challenged.
“Yes, and it won’t be hard to do. The hard part will be in proving it. He’s very, very clever.”
“You know who it was?” Maggie demanded.
“I think I know. No, I know that I know! Dad was the only person he was afraid of, the only one who stood in his way. He hypnotized my mother just the way he does all the others, but Dad didn’t fall for his line. He said that I didn’t have to marry him unless I wanted to.”
Casey glanced at Maggie, and she took a slight bow. And to Phyllis he explained, “Maggie thinks you were running away from Lance Gorden when you came here the first time.”
“Do you know him?”
“We’ve met,” Casey answered, rubbing his knuckles thoughtfully.
“Well, Maggie’s right; I was running away from him. He was always after me to marry him, and so was Mother. That’s why I finally gave in.” Phyllis frowned over the thought, then added: “Mother worries too much; she thinks I should settle down. She means well, I guess, but she just can’t see how Lance has her hypnotized!”
“He must be a regular Svengali,” Maggie observed, “and no beard, either.”
There was a warning note in her words that put Casey on guard.
Remember
, she was saying,
this is the kid with the oversized imagination. Remember the ill-fated prima donna and self-sacrificing father
.
“Outside of an obvious reason I won’t go into just now,” Casey queried, “why is Gorden so set on this marriage?”
“Money,” Phyllis said promptly.
“He seems to be pretty well fixed.”
The girl smiled bitterly. “Seems to be is right!” she mocked. “Where do you think he would be without my father’s backing? And even that was Mother’s idea.”
“And so, maybe because he’s tired of paying income tax, he kills off his meal ticket. Is that your theory?”
It was plain to see that Phyllis Brunner didn’t like being challenged. One minute she was a white-faced kid with trembling lips and troubled eyes; the next she was a fireball. “I’m not giving you a theory,” she snapped, “I’m giving you the truth! And it doesn’t matter if you won’t believe me, because you’re to do just what I tell you to do anyway.”
“You might at least say ‘please,’” Maggie suggested, but there was no stopping Phyllis now.
“To begin with, neither one of you is going to report me to the police. I don’t want to be found—not yet, anyway. That’s why I set fire to my car.”
“I’ve got news for you,” Casey said. “You failed your scout test. It didn’t burn.”
That bit of news delayed her only an instant. “Anyway, I’m rid of it,” she said. “And now I’m going to hide out for a while and let Lance worry about where I am and why. You’re going to help me in that, too.”
“I seem to be getting awfully helpful all of a sudden.”
“You’d better, Casey, because if you don’t I’ll just have to go to the police and tell them how you abducted me after killing my father.”
All this time Casey had been waiting for the boom to fall. Some things in life
“If she beats you,” Casey remarked, “she has my deepest admiration.”
The taffy-colored head came up quickly, and he caught a faceful of blazing eyes. “You don’t believe me!” she cried. “You don’t want to believe me! You’ve got your mind made up and that’s how it’s going to be no matter what I say. But why should I kill my father, or have you kill him? He was the only person I ever really loved!”
Phyllis Brunner brought her knees up against her chin and sat with her face buried in the folds of the blanket. She wasn’t crying again; she was just being very quiet for a few moments that neither Casey nor Maggie dared disturb. And then she raised her head and began to examine Casey’s face in the same calculating manner she had done an afternoon earlier in the Cloud Room.
“You’re going to help me find out who killed my father,” she announced quietly.
“Am I?” Casey challenged.
“Yes, and it won’t be hard to do. The hard part will be in proving it. He’s very, very clever.”
“You know who it was?” Maggie demanded.
“I think I know. No, I know that I know! Dad was the only person he was afraid of, the only one who stood in his way. He hypnotized my mother just the way he does all the others, but Dad didn’t fall for his line. He said that I didn’t have to marry him unless I wanted to.”
Casey glanced at Maggie, and she took a slight bow. And to Phyllis he explained, “Maggie thinks you were running away from Lance Gorden when you came here the first time.”
“Do you know him?”
“We’ve met,” Casey answered, rubbing his knuckles thoughtfully.
“Well, Maggie’s right; I was running away from him. He was always after me to marry him, and so was Mother. That’s why I finally gave in.” Phyllis frowned over the thought, then added: “Mother worries too much; she thinks I should settle down. She means well, I guess, but she just can’t see how Lance has her hypnotized!”
“He must be a regular Svengali,” Maggie observed, “and no beard, either.”
There was a warning note in her words that put Casey on guard.
Remember
, she was saying,
this is the kid with the oversized imagination. Remember the ill-fated prima donna and self-sacrificing father
.
“Outside of an obvious reason I won’t go into just now,” Casey queried, “why is Gorden so set on this marriage?”
“Money,” Phyllis said promptly.
“He seems to be pretty well fixed.”
The girl smiled bitterly. “Seems to be is right!” she mocked. “Where do you think he would be without my father’s backing? And even that was Mother’s idea.”
“And so, maybe because he’s tired of paying income tax, he kills off his meal ticket. Is that your theory?”
It was plain to see that Phyllis Brunner didn’t like being challenged. One minute she was a white-faced kid with trembling lips and troubled eyes; the next she was a fireball. “I’m not giving you a theory,” she snapped, “I’m giving you the truth! And it doesn’t matter if you won’t believe me, because you’re to do just what I tell you to do anyway.”
“You might at least say ‘please,’” Maggie suggested, but there was no stopping Phyllis now.
“To begin with, neither one of you is going to report me to the police. I don’t want to be found—not yet, anyway. That’s why I set fire to my car.”
“I’ve got news for you,” Casey said. “You failed your scout test. It didn’t burn.”
That bit of news delayed her only an instant. “Anyway, I’m rid of it,” she said. “And now I’m going to hide out for a while and let Lance worry about where I am and why. You’re going to help me in that, too.”
“I seem to be getting awfully helpful all of a sudden.”
“You’d better, Casey, because if you don’t I’ll just have to go to the police and tell them how you abducted me after killing my father.”
All this time Casey had been waiting for the boom to fall. Some things in life
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