I closed the door upon Pete and myself.
"Well," I started, "he practically admits it."
"Why not?" asked Pete. "We know about it; they all know; they're all in it."
"She's not," I said; and Pete laughed at me, who thereupon added; "She told me she didn't know about it."
"I heard her," said Pete; and I knew there was no use of argument with him. He argued, instead, with me. "Who sat as model for the dummy?" he demanded of me. "Isn't it she?"
"It's she," I admitted. "But I don't know yet what it means."
"What what means?"
"The effigy."
Once more Pete laughed at me. "Pretty place," he turned the subject, picking up a cigarette from a tray on a table. We went to the window together and witnessed our biplane being drawn up on the beach, across the lake, beside the three blue monoplanes.
For a second, as I let myself appreciate our situation, I wondered whether I had interpreted correctly the kick of Pete's legs when he lay on the wing.
"You wanted to come down?" I asked.
"I did."
"Well, here we are."
"At headquarters, I guess," said Pete. "At headquarters—headquarters of what? What's Bane's idea in killing Selby and Kent—and trying to get us?"
"What's his idea in doing it with her effigy?" I put to Pete.
"What difference does that make, how he does it?"
"The idea of the effigy is the bottom of it." I said, as positively as ever Pete had spoken. "When we get that, we'll get it all."
"There they are," said Pete and nodded at the terrace, where Helen Lacey, in her white and blue, appeared beside Bane. They were talking and our window was open but we could not catch their voices; but from their posture, and from protests of her hands, I knew they argued.
"They don't quite agree for the moment," observed Pete.
"They don't agree at all," I declared, excessively.
"No? Then why's she here? It's his house. Why'd she sit for the dummy?"
Someone knocked at our door—a subdued, respectful rap. We waited a moment; then Pete called, "Come in."
It was a valet with clothes for us.
They were lounging suits for a warm, June noonday; the valet laid them out and deferentially offered to help us change.
"I'm to tell you, sirs," he informed us, "luncheon will be served on the terrace in an hour."
"Oh," said Pete. "We're expected for luncheon?"
"Oh, yes, sir."
"Who invited us?"
"Mr. Bane, sir."
"Who's Mr. Bane?"
"Why, sir, Mr. Bane is the master here."
"What is his business?" Pete put to the valet directly.
"Business, sir?" repeated the valet, slightly shocked. He was young, as was everyone we had seen; but he was an English servant, correctly trained in the tradition.
"Yes; what's his business?" Pete asked again.
"Mr. Bane, sir, has no business; he has investments, undoubtedly, sir; but he has no business. He is a gentleman."
"Oh," said Pete. "And how long has he been one?"
"Sir?"
Pete simplified somewhat. "How long have you been in his service?"
"Six months, sir."
"He had this place, then?"
"Yes, sir."
"How long before had he been here?"
"I don't know, sir."
"Mr. Bane has a family?"
"There is no family here, sir."
"Who are these other people?"
"What other people, sir?"
"Well, Boggs, for instance; and Donley."
"Mr. Boggs and Mr. Donley are both guests here, sir."
"Is Miss Lacey also a guest here?"
"Yes, sir; Miss Lacey and Mr. Lacey, sir."
"Who is he?"
"Her father, sir."
"Hm. They all fly?"
"Not Mr. Lacey, sir; but the other genilemen; and some of the ladies. Aeronautics, sir, are popular here."
"Apparently. How many guests altogether are here?"
"I believe you must have seen them all, sir, when you came up—except Mr. Lacey. May I assist you now, sir?"
"I'm used to dressing myself," said Pete. "So is Mr. Carrick. If we get in great difficulty struggling with the buttons, we may ring for you. Run along."
I returned to a window when the valet was gone and saw Bane, alone, approaching the house.
"He's made up his mind about us," I interpreted for Pete the complete positiveness of our host's step.
Pete was putting on the dry under-clothing supplied to him. "These never belonged to Bane," he commented. "Does he keep them on hand for guests dropping in?"
Another knock at our door; not timid at all. It was merely a warning rap, immediately followed by the opening of the door. Bane stepped in.