have it whirled up before it reached the floor. I
said to Betty that my shoe buckle was loose, and actually got the watch
in my hand, only to let it slip at the critical moment. Then they all
got up and went sadly back to the library, and Flannigan and I faced
each other.

Flannigan was not a handsome man at any time, though up to then he had
at least looked amiable. But now as I stood with my hand on the back of
my chair, his face grew suddenly menacing. The silence was absolute.
I was the guiltiest wretch alive, and opposite me the law towered and
glowered, and held the yellow remnant of a pineapple cheese! And in the
silence that wretched watch lay and ticked and ticked and ticked. Then
Flannigan creaked over and closed the door into the hall, came back,
picked up the watch, and looked at it.

"You're unlucky, I'm thinkin'," he said finally. "You've got the nerve
all right, but you ain't cute enough."

"I don't know what you mean," I quavered. "Give me that watch to return
to Mr. Harbison."

"Not on your life," he retorted easily. "I give it back myself, like
I did the bracelet, and--like I'm going to give back the necklace, if
you'll act like a sensible little girl."

I could only choke.

"It's foolish, any way you look at it," he persisted. "Here you are,
lots of friends, folks that think you're all right. Why, I reckon there
isn't one of them that wouldn't lend you money if you needed it so bad."

"Will you be still?" I said furiously. "Mr. Harbison left that
watch--with me--an hour ago. Get him, and he will tell you so himself!"

"Of course he would," Flannigan conceded, looking at me with grudging
approval. "He wouldn't be what I think he is, if he didn't lie up and
down for you." There were voices in the hall. Flannigan came closer.
"An hour ago, you say. And he told me it was gone this morning! It's
a losing game, miss. I'll give you twenty-four hours and then--the
necklace, if you please, miss."

Chapter XVII. A CLASH AND A KISS

The clash that came that evening had been threatening for some time.
Take an immovable body, represented by Mr. Harbison and his square jaw,
and an irresistible force, Jimmy and his weight, and there is bound to
be trouble.

The real fault was Jim's. He had gone entirely mad again over Bella, and
thrown prudence to the winds. He mooned at her across the dinner table,
and waylaid her on the stairs or in the back halls, just to hear her
voice when she ordered him out