rn. "They--they were fightin' over it." He had hard work to
maintain the proper expression of polite interest under the direct
appraisal of those grave eyes. "The purse set me back on'y fifty-eight
cents at Eaton's at a Friday sale and it had in it on'y some street-car
tickets, a handkerchief, about thirty-five cents change an'--a nickle's
worth of gum. So, you see, it really aint worth botherin' about." She
smiled faintly as she stood up and held out her hand. "Thanks again,
Mr. Kendrick. I must be toddlin' along."

But Kendrick was not to be dismissed in this arbitrary fashion. He
insisted upon seeing her safely home and as it was so logically the
thing to do, she accepted his escort with what grace she could.
Throughout the short walk, however, her manner toward him was one of
cold formality, and although Phil was by no means an uninteresting
conversationalist on occasion, his best efforts failed to break down
this reserve.

Several times he deliberately directed the conversation to afford her
the opportunity of referring to the keyhole incidents only to have her
ignore the opening altogether. It was equally apparent that she had no
intention of mentioning Jimmy Stiles, and he was half inclined to
regret the lead he had given her in this connection. Why had she been
so eager to misrepresent the situation? Why had Stiles disappeared so
suddenly? What was the meaning of the attack by these two ruffians?
Was robbery really the motive, or was she lying about that, too? He
had seen no sign of a purse. Why had she and young Stiles met by
appointment at that late hour and in that particular place? It must be
some very secret matter to require a clandestine meeting. And she had
been scolding Jimmy Stiles--no mistake about that.

Thus ran the undercurrent of his thoughts as he tried to decide whether
he had better shatter that self-contained keep-your-distance attitude
of hers with plain questions. He would have to right-about-face on the
whole situation to do it, and he was not sure that this was wise just
then. One thing was certain, Miss Margaret Williams was worth studying
very carefully and he could not afford to make any mistakes in his
approach.

She settled his indecision for him somewhat unexpectedly by stopping
abruptly opposite a row of old brick houses with red sandstone fronts.

"Here's where I live," she said. "'Night, Mr. Kendrick, an' thanks
awfully."

Phil raised his hat. Before he