to the platform.
The Crosspatch Conductor swung himself up after her. Glory eyed his
empty hands with distinct disappointment.

"Haven't you got my books?" she panted, out of breath with her
hurrying.

"Nary a book," the conductor said shortly. "Couldn't find 'em. Went
through the whole train. _Weren't_ any books. You'll have to hang on
to 'em next time, young lady."

"I don't see how I can if I can't find 'em," sighed the "young lady."
She went into the car and sat down heavily. Oh, it was too bad! She
had been so sure the conductor would have them for her. She didn't
want to lose them--not now, after that story. Oh, poor auntie!

There were not many early morning passengers. Among others Glory
noticed an old man and two young men with dinner pails, and old lady
without one, and a girl in a shabby jacket. She hadn't any dinner
pail in sight, anyway. She sat in the seat ahead of Glory and pored
over a book. She seemed buried--lost--in it.

Glory sat on the edge of her seat with her elbow on the window-sill
and her chin in her hand. Her glance wandered gloomily around the car
and came to rest at last on the open page of the Other Girl's book.

What--_What!_ Glory leaned forward and gazed intently at the
open page. On the margins were words scrawled carelessly
in--her--handwriting! The odd, perked-up letters were unmistakable.
Who else ever wrote like that? Who ever made M's and capital S's like
that?

Glory got suddenly to her feet. That was her book the Other Girl was
poring over--_hers!_

Chapter III.

"I'll trouble you for my book," a clear, stiff voice said.

The Other Girl came to her senses abruptly.

"Oh! Why!" she stammered, her lean little face flooding crimson. "Oh,
is it you? Oh, I didn't know we'd got to Douglas--oh, wait, please
wait! Please let me explain." She kept tight hold of the book and
faced Glory pluckily. "You must _let_ me explain. Maybe you think I
can't, but I can. I'm not a thief!"

"I don't care for any explanation, but I'd thank you for my books,"
Glory said loftily. "I suppose you've got the rest, too. They were
all together."

"I have them all," the Other Girl returned quietly. The crimson in
her cheeks had faded to a faint pink. She gazed up at Glory with
steady eyes.

"But I cannot give them up till you let me explain," she persisted.
"You've _got_ to let me. Do you suppose I'm going to let you go away
with my good name as though I would steal your books? They