"Then who could it have been?" asked Nan. Everyone had stopped eating while this talk went on. "Who could have taken our ice cream?"
"Dat's what I don't know, honey," answered the colored cook. "Dat's why I comed in heah to tell yo' mamma. I 'spects, Mrs. Bobbsey, dat we'd better phonograph fo' de police."
"Phonograph—I guess you mean telephone; don't you, Dinah?" asked Mrs. Bobbsey, with a smile.
"Yes'm, dat's what I done mean. Or else maybe we kin send mah man Sam down to de Station house fo' 'em."
"No, I had better telephone, in case it is necessary. But perhaps I had better take a look out there. Perhaps the man from the store may have set the cream off to one side."
"No'm, he didn't do dat. I took p'ticlar notice where he set it. Dere's a wet ring-mark on de porch where de freezer was, 'count of de salty water leakin' out. An' dat wet ringmark am all dat's left ob de cream, dar now!" and Dinah, standing with her hands on her
