"Pooh!" Anne said, when she had recovered herself a little. "There isn't

any reason, as far as that goes, why Flannigan shouldn't have worn Tom's

overcoat, or--any of the others."

"Flannigan!" Leila said loftily. "Why, his arms are like piano legs; he

couldn't get into it. As for the others, there is only one person who

would fit, or nearly fit, that overcoat, and that is Dallas, Anne."

While Anne was choking down her wrath, Leila got up and darted out of

the tent. When she came back she was triumphant.

"Look," she said, holding out her hand. And on her palm lay a lightish

brown button. "I found it just where the paper said the board was thrown

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out, and it is from Mr. Harbison's overcoat, without a doubt."

Of course I should not have been surprised. A man who would kiss a woman

on a dark staircase--a woman he had known only two days--was capable of

anything.

"Kit has only been a little keener than the rest of us," Lollie said.

"She found him out yesterday."

"Upon my word," said Anne indignantly, preparing to go, "if I didn't

know you girls so well, I would think you were crazy. And now, just to

offset this, I can tell you something. Flannigan told me this morning

not to worry; that he has my pearl collar spotted, and that YOUNG LADIES

WILL HAVE THEIR JOKES!"

Yes, as I said before, it was a cheerful, joy-producing situation.

I sat and thought it over after Anne's parting shot, when Leila had

flounced downstairs. Things were closing in; I gave the situation

twenty-four hours to develop. At the end of that time Flannigan would

accuse me openly of knowing where the pearls were; I would explain my

silly remark to him and the mine would explode--under Aunt Selina.

I was sunk in dejected reverie when some one came on the roof. When he

was opposite the opening in the tent, I saw Mr. Harbison, and at that

moment he saw me. He paused uncertainly, then he made an evident effort

and came over to me.

"You are--better today?"

"Quite well, thank you."

"I am glad you find the tent useful. Does it keep off the wind?"

"It is quite a shelter"--frigidly.

He still stood, struggling for something to say. Evidently nothing came

to his mind, for he lifted the cap he was wearing, and turning away,

began to work with the wiring of the roof. He was clever with tools; one

could see that. If he was a professional gentleman-burglar, no doubt he

needed to be. After a bit, finding it necessary to climb to the parapet,

he took off his coat, without even a glance in my direction, and fell to

work vigorously.

One does not need to like a man to admire him physically, any more than

one needs to like a race horse or any other splendid animal. No one

could deny that the man on the parapet was a splendid animal; he looked

quite big enough and strong enough to have tossed his slender bridge

across the gulf to the next roof, without any difficulty, and coordinate

enough to have crossed on it with a flourish to safety.