and they wished to decorate the boat. Phil was too busy at her own
task to go down to discover the reason.

The tramp gazed sarcastically at Lillian, whose eyes watched him
defiantly, then at Eleanor, who was still lying on the floor. "Now,
girls," he began with mock politeness, "I imagine you will be kind
enough to be quiet for a time at least. So I think I will look around
to see if there is anything here that I would like." He seized poor
Lillian's plate of chocolate fudge and stuffed the candy into his
pockets. Then he left the sitting room and crept into the bedroom
which was used by Miss Jones and Eleanor. He found Eleanor's purse
under her pillow and pocketed it. On the small dressing-table was Miss
Jenny Ann's purse. He chuckled softly. This was the best of the sport.

Phil's humming upstairs stopped. Why did that lazy farmer boy not get
to his work? And where were Lillian and Nellie? Phil listened. She
thought she heard such an odd noise. It was as though some one were
trying to talk while choking. She ran lightly down the outside cabin
steps, her broom still in her hand. She peered into the kitchen. It
was empty. Phil did not go into the sitting room next. Some instinct
must have guided her. Had she seen the plight poor Lillian and Eleanor
were in, she must have screamed and betrayed herself. Instead she
stepped into Miss Jones's bedroom.

The youth, with his back to the door, had ears like the creatures of
the woods. Under other circumstances he would have heard Phyllis's
approach. But something in the discovery of Miss Jenny Ann's poor
little purse seemed to give him special joy. He was opening it and
emptying it of its last penny.