"Honesty," said Leila hotly. "That a man should be what he says
he is."

Anne and I both stared.

"It is your Mr. Harbison," Leila went on, "who tried to escape
from the house by putting a board across to the next roof!"

"I don't believe it," said Anne. "You might bring me a picture of
him, board in hand, and I wouldn't believe it."

"Don't then," Lollie said cruelly. "Let him get away with your
pearls; they are yours. Only, as sure as anything, the man who
tried to escape from the house had a reason for escaping, and the
papers said a man in evening dress and light overcoat. I found
Mr. Harbison's overcoat today lying in a heap in one of the
maids' rooms, and it was covered with brick dust all over the
front. A button had even been torn off."

"Pooh!" Anne said, when she had recovered herself a little.
"There isn't any reason, as far as that goes, why Flannigan
shouldn't have worn Tom's overcoat, or--any of the others,"

"Flannigan!" Leila said loftily. "Why, his arms are like piano
legs; he couldn't get into it. As for the others, there is only
one person who would fit, or nearly fit, that overcoat, and that
is Dallas, Anne."

While Anne was choking down her wrath, Leila got up and darted