with brilliant inspiration, "if these ladies will undertake the
job . . ."

Miss Pride stirred smartly. "It's not what I want to do," she
insisted, "but if you insist, and on dear Abigail's account . . ."

With a tremendous effort Sally whipped her faculties together and
temporarily reasserted the normal outward aspect of her forceful self.

"I will not be searched," she said with determination. "With Mrs.
Gosnold present--yes, anything. Find her, and I'll submit to any
indignity you can think of. But if Mrs. Standish and Miss Pride think
I will permit them to search me in her absence . . ."

She laughed shortly. "They'd better not try it--that's all!" and on
this vague threat turned away and threw herself back into the chair.

"I'm sure," Miss Pride agreed, "I'd much rather not, for my part. And
dear Abigail is so peculiar. Perhaps it would be best to wait till she
gets back."

"Or hunt her up," Lyttleton amended.

"I guess you're right," Mason agreed, a trace dubiously.

"But what will you do with the girl in the meantime? Take her to
jail?"

"No; I guess not yet--not until we see what Mrs. Gosnold thinks,
anyway. She ought to be safe enough here. That door locks; we'll take
the key. She can't get out of the window without risking her neck--and
if she did make a getaway uninjured, she can't leave the Island before
morning. Let's move along, as you say, and see if we can't find Mrs.
Gosnold."

Skirts rustled behind Sally's sullen back and feet shuffled. Then the
door closed softly and she heard the key rattle in the lock.

She sat moveless, stunned, aghast.

Strangely, she did not weep; her spirit was bruised beyond the
consolation of tears.

The wall upon which her vacant vision focused was not more blankly
white than her despair was blankly black. She was utterly bereft of
hope; no ray penetrated that bleak darkness which circumscribed her
understanding.

Now the last frail prop had been knocked from under her precarious
foothold in the faith and favour of Mrs. Gosnold.

As to the identity of the enemy who had done this thing Sally
entertained not a shadow of doubt, though lacking this proof she could
not have believed she owned one so vindictive, ruthless and fiendishly
ingenious.

But after what had happened it seemed most indisputable that
Lyttleton, not content with avenging his overnight discomfiture
by an unscrupulous lie, had deliberately plotted and planted this
additional false evidence