ls are not all like Mag; there are
lots of nice ones. She wasn't so bad, either, until Jim Denton noticed
her."

"Is he her sweetheart?" asked Faith as soon as she could control her
voice. "I heard them talking together and I am sure she loves him."

Miss Jennings gave vent to one of her harshest laughs.

"Jim Denton is a wicked young man," she said very slowly. "He cares no
more for Maggie than he does for lots of the others, but she's such a
fool she can't see it, and that shows, of course, that she's pretty
badly gone on him."

"You mean that she loves him?" questioned Faith, who was not very
familiar with shop-girl slang.

"Well, you can't call it love, exactly," explained Miss Jennings, "but
it's the best she's got. She thinks she loves him."

The girls had walked a couple of blocks and were waiting for a car. They
were glad to find that they lived near each other. The same street car
would land them a short distance from their homes, which were modest
flats in the cheapest portion of Harlem.

As they hailed the car, Faith's quick eye caught a glimpse of a man who
seemed to be following them.

As he sprang on the rear platform of the car she called her companion's
attention to him.

"It's Bob Hardy, one of our detectives," said Miss Jennings,
wonderingly. "Why, he lives in Jersey. He must be following somebody."

Faith looked at her a moment before she spoke again.

"I wonder if there is any truth in what that girl said about the robbery
in the office. I've been thinking of it ever since. She looked at me so
funny! And see, Mary, that detective is watching me, too, he has hardly
taken his eyes off me since we entered the car. It can't be possible
that they think I took the money, can it? You know I was in the office
early yesterday morning."

She spoke so timidly that Miss Jennings gave her a sharp glance. Then
she turned involuntarily and looked at the detective.

"God help you if Hardy is after you," she whispered with a shudder.
"That fellow is a fiend about making arrests. He'd accuse his own mother
of stealing, I believe, if he thought he could win the regard of old
Forbes by doing it!"

CHAPTER VIII.

A FIENDISH PROPOSITION.

When Faith left the car Bob Hardy followed her. He made no attempt to
conceal the fact that he was watching her, and when Faith had reached
the middle of a block of vacant lots he quickened his steps and was soon
beside her.

"Just a minute, miss," he said,