“I sure did,” the driver returned, with a broad grin. “Every cent of it! None of these here C.O.D. gals kin slip it over on me.”
It was on the tip of Nancy’s tongue to ask another question, but the driver climbed into his seat and drove away, leaving her to gaze thoughtfully after the retreating delivery wagon. What she had learned left her more perplexed than before. From what the delivery man had said it was evident that Mary Mason was buying finery from the stores and paying cash. Again the question that had troubled Nancy from the very start loomed up. Where had the girl secured her money?
“It’s beginning to look suspicious,” Nancy told herself, a trifle grimly. “This may not be the Lilac Inn mystery, but it is a mystery, none the less. I may have two cases on my hands.”
She knew that Mary came of a poor family and it was highly improbable that she had relatives who were providing her with funds. The girl had no employment, and, what was even more significant, she did not seem to be interested in finding work. Otherwise, she certainly would have gone to Lilac Inn at Helen Corning’s suggestion. Were these clues or were they not?
“I must proceed cautiously,” Nancy assured herself. “I might get myself into serious trouble by falsely accusing her of a crime. So far the evidence certainly isn’t sufficient to warrant any action.”
Nancy had stood so long at the curbing that passersby were beginning to stare at her curiously. Coming back to reality with a start, she stepped into her roadster and after a little hesitation headed for home.
“I don’t believe there’s any use going back to see Mary today,” she decided, glancing at her watch. “It’s nearly luncheon time and Mrs. Carter will be expecting me. I probably wouldn’t gain anything by talking with Mary, anyway. She wouldn’t admit a thing. I must think out my line of action carefully before I try to interview her.”