s protesting that she had no serious
intentions toward the person in question, two young men came around the
path from the front of the house. Hallie's beau and Jack Tracy, who
had fluttered my sentiment a short time before by asking me to marry
him. But now he was too bubbling over with importance to remember to
look sentimental.

Had we heard the latest sensation, they wanted to know? Montgomery had
tried to break jail. Came mighty near doing it, too!

I had been holding a cup and saucer when he began speaking, and when he
stopped it was on the brick path in a hundred pieces.

"Poppycock," father said, "the town is full of rumors."

But, no, they said, it was true enough. They had it from good
authority. It seemed that the sheriff had been bribed. Just how and
by whom I couldn't make out, because every one was talking at once.
But the sheriff had been removed, "pending trial," said Jack Tracy, and
the deputy was acting in his place.

"But," I said, "if it wasn't Mr. Montgomery who bribed the sheriff, how
can you tell he really wanted to escape?"

Then every one laughed, and I stooped over and began picking up the
pieces of the Nankin cup, so that no one should see how I was blushing,
but my hands shook so that it was all I could do to hold the pieces.
What in the world was the matter with me lately? There was no reason
in my behaving like this, as if Johnny Montgomery had been an old
friend. I excused myself on the pretext of having father's bag to
pack, and escaped into the house. "All the same," I said to myself, "I
don't believe he tried to get out, or even really wanted to. From the
way he looked in the court I am sure he doesn't care what happens to
him."

But oh, I did wish he cared a little more; how I wished that some one
could show, in his behalf, one contradictory piece of evidence; so that
all the testimony wouldn't seem to be narrowing down to one point where
there would be room for but one thing I could believe him to be!

CHAPTER VI

THE SPANISH WOMAN'S HOUSE

Sunday, which found me sole mistress of the place, was beautiful, warm,
and beguiling. That lovely locked-in feeling, which comes only when
the streets are quiet, and no tradesmen, not even the postman, comes
knocking, soothed me after the days of tension and expectancy.

Abby went off early to church, and I took a book out to the rustic seat
by the heliotrope. At about half-past ten Mr. Dingley came through the
con