they took you for ‘Angel’ and your friend for Crack!” he chuckled. “Wait till I tell the boys that story.”
“Who on earth is ‘Crack’ and what did he do?” demanded Katharine.
“He’s an A-1 burglar, Miss. Wanted for lots of jobs, but he’s so d— blamed clever that nobody’s been able to lay hands on him. They say he comes of a good family; sort of black sheep, you know. Somebody said he has a sister living in Granard; of course that may be just talk. He was in town a couple of times last winter; that we know.”
“Lock up your class pin, Anne,” laughed Jane, as Anne’s eyes grew bigger and bigger.
“Yes, he might try the dorm next,” giggled Patricia.
“I have a horror of burglars. Imagine! Waking up to find one in your room. Ugh!” shuddered Anne.
“But he’s dead, you geese!” Katharine reminded them.
“That’s so,” sighed Anne with such evident relief that they all laughed.
“I’ll bet that’s who Craig was looking for,” thought Patricia, as she made the turn into Millersville for the second time.
“How much do you suppose it will be?” asked Katharine suddenly.
“What?”
“The reward, of course.”
The girls laughed a bit hysterically; for the events of the afternoon and evening had been a severe strain on the nerves of everyone. The truck turned down a side street, and as they reached the station the officer got out without waiting for Patricia to come to a full stop.
“Good luck, girls!” he cried, as he slammed the door.
“I’m hoping,” said Patricia soberly, as she put on speed, “that the reward will be enough to help me come back here next year.”
“Why, you’ve just got to come back!” declared Anne emphatically. “We can’t possibly get along without you.”
“I should say not!” agreed Katharine, reaching forward to pinch Patricia’s ear affectionately.
“I do hope you’ll get enough to be of considerable help,” said Jane earnestly.
“Time will tell,” replied Patricia, a bit shakily.
It was wonderful of the girls to be so anxious to keep her in the dear old Gang! She had known, of course, that they liked her; but she had never realized how much until she saw how shocked they were at the possibility of her not being able to return next September.
The rain stopped, and traffic was light; so they were able to make good time all the rest of the way. It was about eight-thirty when they drew up in front of Arnold Hall.
“Let’s walk down to the Coffee Shoppe and get some supper before we go in,” proposed Katharine. “If the girls once get hold of us we’ll never get out again; and I’m starved.”
“A good idea,” agreed Jane.
“Are you going to tell the Gang all about our adventures?” inquired Anne, as they walked the short distance down the street.
“Why, I thought so,” replied Patricia. “Why not?”
“Just as well,” counseled Jane. “They’ll see it in the papers, or hear it some way; and they would think it queer that we said nothing about it.”
“There’s Rhoda!” exclaimed Katharine, as they entered the restaurant. “Let’s go and sit with her. She looks lonesome.”
“Hello, Rhoda,” said Jane, sliding into the seat beside the surprised maid, while the other three girls squeezed into the seat on the opposite side of the table. “Haven’t finished, have you?”
“No; just beginning.”
“Good!” approved Anne. “Eat slowly until we get our supper.”
Rhoda obediently laid down her knife and fork, while the girls ordered; then she asked: “Did you miss your supper at the Hall?”
“I’ll say we did!” said Katharine fervently.
“We had the most exciting time!” cried Anne.
“And Rhoda,” interrupted Patricia, leaning across the table to whisper confidentially—“Just think; I found Mrs. Brock’s watch!”
“Miss Randall!” gasped the maid. “Wherever—”
“Listen!” And Patricia plunged into the story, aided by various comments from her companions. Rhoda’s eyes widened, and a deep flush crept across her face as the tale reached the discovery of the dead man.
“How—awful!” she faltered. “What—what did he look like?”
“We didn’t look at him,” responded Katharine; “but the officer thought—” she broke off abruptly, silenced by a sharp touch of Patricia’s sturdy shoe.
“We were scared to death,” interrupted Patricia hurriedly, “and glad to have a chance to leave the scene for a few minutes. And wasn’t it lucky that I had to go farther on to turn around?” Rapidly, excitedly, she proceeded to the finding of the watch.
“Now let’s eat,” proposed Katharine, when Patricia paused for breath at the end of the tale.
Rhoda merely played with her food, and drank two cups of strong coffee, while she waited for the girls to finish their meal. Then they all strolled slowly back to the Hall together. The moon had come up, and was shining through the lacy foliage of the trees, making delicate patterns on the walks.
“Why the kick?” whispered Katharine to Patricia as they fell back of the others, to let some people pass in the opposite direction.
“We don’t know for sure who the man was,” said Patricia; “and it seems to me it’s better not to mention names. Let that come out in the papers first.”
“You’re probably right, Miss Prudence,” laughed Katharine; “but don’t go quite so heavy on the kicks hereafter.”
There was bedlam in Arnold Hall when the girls told their story to the Alley Gang and Mrs. Vincent in the big parlor. Students from the second floor hung over the stair railings to listen in; and before the subject was exhausted, Ted Carter, Craig Denton, and Jack Dunn walked in. Then everything had to be gone over again.
Suddenly the outside door was flung open impatiently, and Mrs. Brock walked in and stood viewing the crowd.
CHAPTER XX
THE REWARD
For an instant nobody spoke or moved; then Mrs. Vincent got up and crossed the room to greet the unexpected visitor.
“Won’t you come in and sit down, Mrs. Brock?” she asked, pulling forward a rocking chair which Katharine had just vacated.
“Not
