giving her lithe hand a quick twist and jerking it from his hold. It hurt her cruelly, but she did not wince. With a quick motion she turned toward the front door, but to her dismay she was suddenly confronted by the two men in uniform, standing like an impassable wall before her.
With a dazed look she stopped, gave each a frightened glance, and turning back to Sherwood, she drew herself up proudly.
"What does this mean?" she asked indignantly. "Do I understand that I am a prisoner in my father’s house?"
"I’m afraid you are, Miss Ransom," answered Sherwood gravely. "I hope it will not be for long. You need not be troubled. No harm will come to you. If you will sit down, I will see that no harm comes to you."
"Thank you. I prefer to stand," she said frigidly.
"Just as you please," answered her captor, "only I advise you to stand right where you are if you do not wish to be interfered with again."
Romayne caught her underlip between her white teeth to steady its trembling. She could feel the tears smarting in her eyes. Slim and straight she stood in her pretty spring outfit, looking like a frightened child. Chris Hollister could not stand it and turned his back, pretending to be looking out from between the curtains again.
The girl had wonderful self-control. She was trying to think what she should do. It was unthinkable that she should submit to such a situation.
"What is the meaning of all this anyway? What right have you to order me about in this way in my own house?" she said, trying to hold her temper and see if she could find out what it was all about. "There certainly must be some explanation. You don’t look like a bandit!"
There was just the least trace of contempt in her voice.
"Aw gee!" breathed the boy, Chris, under his breath.
"I can explain," said the young man gravely, "but I would rather not. I hoped perhaps that you might be spared the pain——"
"Oh!" interrupted Romayne. "Don’t trouble yourself about that. You haven’t seemed to care how much pain you inflicted. I beg you will inform me at once what all this means! It isn’t necessary to use any oratory or false friendliness. I want the facts. I’ll bear the pain!"
Her face was haughtiness itself. Her tone stung the young man and brought a flush of indignation to his cheek, but he kept his quiet voice.
"Very well, then. I will tell you. This house is under suspicion, and we have been ordered to investigate. I am sorry our duty brought us here while you were at home, but if you will consent to be seated quietly in that chair where the guard can watch every movement, I give you my word you shall not be personally disturbed."
Romayne stared wide-eyed.
"This house! Under suspicion? But for what?" she demanded angrily.
"For illicit dealing in intoxicating liquor."
"Oh!" unexpectedly laughed out the girl with a relieved hysterical giggle. "Is that all? Isn’t that funny!"
She dropped into a chair still laughing, her eyes dancing merrily.
"But," she said, looking into the young man’s face, "you surely didn’t mean that seriously?"
"I surely do," said the young man sadly. "I’m sorry, but we have all evidence——"
Romayne turned toward the boy.
"Chris, why in the world don’t you tell him we’re not that kind of people? What do you get out of this farce that you can let it go on? You surely know how absurd this charge is!"
Chris turned earnestly toward the girl.
"I did, Romayne; I told them all about you. I said you were a peach of a girl! I wanted to put this off when I found you were home—"
"Put it off!" said Romayne, scornfully turning back to Sherwood. "If you would allow me to call up my father’s friend, Judge Freeman," she said with an edge of haughtiness in her voice again, "he will be able to explain how impossible this all is," she said loftily.
A quick meaningful look passed from one man to another around the group.
"I have no doubt he would," said Sherwood meaningfully, "but we will not call the judge at present."
"Or if you will call my brother," she went on more soberly, trying to realize that it was not going to be as easy to convince these determined men as she had expected. "He is probably still in the office—I can give you his number. He never gets out till a quarter past six."
Another lightning glance went around the circle. She could not tell what it was about, that quick motionless look. It seemed to be more of a light coming out of the eye, like a signal flash in the night, than anything tangible, but it gave her a chill of foreboding.
She suddenly turned to Sherwood quite gravely, as one would speak to a naughty child in a tantrum who needed quieting, speaking slowly and distinctly as if to bring him to reason.
"I should think it would be easy enough to prove that your suspicions are absurd," she said. "Why don’t you look around and see that this is nothing but a plain everyday home?"
"Are you willing to take me over the house, Miss Ransom?"
"Certainly, if you insist on being so absurd," she said freezingly.
"Very well. We will begin in this room."
"In this room?" She lifted her eyebrows amusedly. "I should say everything was perfectly obvious here."
"What is behind those doors, for instance? Can you open them for me?"
Romayne laughed.
"Some old dusty papers. Files of sales of Father’s business. It’s nothing but a shallow cupboard. Father had to have a carpenter come here and make it deeper to get his papers in. Did you think it was a wine closet?"
Another of those quick lightning glances went round the circle of men, though when she looked again, no one seemed to have paid the least attention to her words. Their eyes were thoughtfully on space.
The steady eyes of Sherwood did not waver nor show special interest. His voice was just as quiet as he said, "Yes? Well, can you open them for me?"
"Why certainly!" said Romayne, walking briskly over to the fireplace and touching the little spring knob.
But the door did not open as she expected.
She looked at it puzzled.
"Oh, I remember! Father had a lock put on. He said there were valuable papers here and he did not want them disturbed. Perhaps I can find the key. Of course Father wouldn’t object to my opening it for you to see."
She searched in the drawers of the desk, the men meanwhile noting every movement, and taking in at a glance the contents of every drawer, without seeming at all to be looking.
Romayne came upon a bunch of keys and tried several but without success. She lifted somewhat mortified eyes to the young man at last.
"Well, we’ll have to wait
