"That settles it," said the superintendent, wheeling around in his
chair. "You will please return to your duties, Miss Marvin; we cannot
allow your petition."

Faith walked slowly from the office with the tears springing to her
eyes. Before she reached the ribbon counter a floor walker stepped up to
her. She had never seen him before, but recognized him at once as the
Mr. Gunning whom she had heard the girls say belonged in that
department, but was away just then upon a short vacation.

"You have been gone more than fifteen minutes, No. 411," he said,
sharply. "Hurry over to your counter; Miss Fairbanks wishes to see you."

Faith looked at him timidly. He was a silly looking young man who wore a
flaming red necktie and curled the ends of his mustache.

"Another tyrant," thought Faith, but she only bowed respectfully.
Already in her short term of service she was getting used to tyrants.

"I am going to put you in Miss Jennings' place for a day or two," was
the buyer's greeting. "I am short of girls, so you will have to do. Miss
Jones will tell you what you don't know about the stock, and I hope
you'll be very careful in your measurement of the ribbon."

"I will do my best," said Faith, very sadly. She was soon standing
behind the counter, a full-fledged saleswoman. For some reason there had
been nothing said about the half day that she had lost, but Faith knew
only too well that she would be heavily fined for her absence. Still, it
was better than being discharged. She accepted the alternative
thankfully.

If Bob Hardy was in the store he kept out of the ribbon department, for
Faith looked around for him nervously several times, and was greatly
relieved when she did not see him.

Once she overheard two cash girls talking about the robbery in the
office, and as they mentioned the name of Watkins she paused
involuntarily and listened.

"They say he's got brain fever," said one of the girls. "Well, I'd think
he'd be crazy with all that's happened."

"It must be awful," said the other girl. "Why, his brother was only a
kid, and, to think, he stole five hundred dollars!"

Faith almost gasped for breath at this information.

She tried to speak to the girl, but her lips and tongue seemed palsied.
She understood now what poor Mr. Watkins had suffered, and to think she
had distrusted him--even for one brief second!

Several times during the forenoon she saw Maggie Brady watching her, and
the hatred in her eyes was