The Waterbury Democrat., 1938-02-23
CHAPTER XVIII


 othy snorted once more. Your story is perfectly understandable-if any body wants to believe it. But that's the trouble. People like to believe the worst. I still say you didn't have a good lawyer"
 Long afterward, when they had both gone to their own rooms for the night, Dorothy lay awake turning the whole story over in mind. And the more she thought about it, the stronger become her conviction that something might still be done about it
 Philip sat in tiny ice cream par Tor opposite the Eastman High school and slipped hot chocolate. He wished the ice cream parlor were a cafe and the hot chocolate high ball, but at least he was on the right track, he felt. That was something.
 His eyes were glued on the lake and the school. AS yet, however, the object of his watchful waiting had not put in an appearance.
 In the five minutes conversa- ton Philip had enjoyed with the secretary to the principal of East man high, he had learned three things about Miss Baldwin. First, that she had been working for the indomitable Miss Greeley for less than six months; second, that she disliked her almost as much as he did; and third that she usually left the school at 3 o'clock daily.
 Since early afternoon, therefore, Philip had haunted the Eastman grounds and the little soda parlor in the hope of chance encounter with Miss Baldwin. But Miss Baldwin had not appeared. Neither had he seen her leaving the school in the afternoon, although he man. aged to be on hand promptly at 3 o'clock.
 In his pocket was frantic note from Sybil Bob, so she wrote, waS marrying the girl very short ly. Philip must discover some thing immediately! There was less than two weeks before them ..
 The trouble was that Philip had not the vagueSt idea of how to proceed further. He would gain nothing through another interview with Miss Greeley. That he knew full well. If there was anything startling in Joan Barrett's history and Miss Greeley knew it, she would guard the story closely.
 His inquiries among the trades people gave him even less infor- nation. Nobody had ever heard of Mrs. Barrett and her daughter. AS a matter of fact, there were few merchants who had been established for seven years. The depression, they explained, had forced many small Independent dealers out of business. Chain stores now predom- mated. And chain store managers, Philip had found, were an independ- ent lot, coldly unconcerned over neighborhood gossip.
 Miss Baldwin, he felt sure, was his only chance. She had access to the record cards; she could tell him, at least, why Joan Barrett had left school, and where she had lived pre-
 
 viously.
 That is, if he ever got hold of her again.
 One thing was certain, however. This was the last day he intended to wait around like a regular flat foot. Tomorrow morning he would phone Miss Baldwin at the school and brazenly ask for a date. If she refused him, then that was the end of Sybils quest. He would have to go home and admit fail me. Ordinarily, however, girls did not refuse him
 "Anodder hot chocolate, mis- ter?"
 Philip looked at the placid pro- prietor in front of him.
 No - no more today" he frowned.
 Philip wondered suddenly how we'll this fellow knew the people from the school. He checked the frown.
 "Oh, by the way" he said, in a pleasant spirit of comaraderie. live been looking for someone"
 He grinned, insinuatingly.
 "So-o-o-o- A young lady, no?"
 Philip nodded.
 "A young lady from the school?"
 Again Philip nodded. Miss Baldwin - do you know her?"
 Miss Baldwin! But sure I know her! She is my very good cus- toner. You like her, eh?"
 The proprietor was enjoying this touch of romance, right on his own doorstep, you might say.