all that
time on her hands? And nobody remembers selling her any ticket to
Alexandria--and you know anybody would remember selling anything to
a girl like that."

Falconer was silent.

"And nobody at Cook's paid out any money on her letter of credit--or
cashed any express checks for her. Where did that money come from
that was sent back to the hotel?"

"But what is the point of all this?"

"That's what I just particularly don't know.... But it needs looking
into."

Falconer favored him with a level scrutiny. "How long have you known
Miss Beecher?"

"I met her the night before last. That, however, doesn't enter into
the case."

"It would seem to me that it might."

"Between three days and three weeks," said Billy, remembering
something, "the difference is sometimes no greater than between
Tweedledum and Tweedledee." He smiled humorously at the other young
man, a frank, likeable smile that softened magically the bluntness
of his young mouth. "That's why I came to you. You are the only soul
I know to be interested in Miss Beecher's welfare. The Evershams are
off up the Nile--and they'd probably be helpless, anyway. Besides,
you know more about this blamed Egypt of yours than I do.... Have
you any idea where she went yesterday afternoon?"

"Not at all."

"Neither have the Evershams. They were surprised when I asked them
about it this morning. They didn't know she was going. Now she went
somewhere in a limousine----"

"Probably to the station."

"American girls don't go to stations in floating white clothes and
hats all pink roses. I particularly remember the pink rose," said
Billy gloomily. "No, if she had been going to the station she would
have had on a little blue or gray suit, very up and down, and a
little minute of a hat with just one perky feather. And she'd have a
bag of sorts with her--no girl would rush away to Alexandria without
a bag."

"She could have sent it ahead of her or returned and dressed later
for the station."

"Why the mischief did I tramp off to those bazaars?" said the young
American. "But, see here--weren't you around the hotel after that
yesterday--at tea time?"

"Er--yes--I----"

"And weren't you rather looking out for Miss Beecher? Wouldn't you
have noticed if she had been coming or going?"

Falconer stroked his small mustache and shot a look at Billy out of
the corners of his eyes which expressed his distinct annoyance at
these intrusive demands.

"I don't remember