CHAPTER XIX.

JUDY'S CONFESSION.


In spite of all their care, Brian and Betty Jo did not wholly convince
Auntie Sue that there was no more in Judy's disappearance than the
report from the neighbors indicated. The dear old lady felt that there
was something known to the young people that they were keeping from her;
and, while she did not question their motives, and certainly did not
worry,--for Auntie Sue never worried,--she was not satisfied with the
situation. When she retired to her room for the night, she told herself,
with some spirit, that she would surely go to the bottom of the affair
the next morning.

It happened that Auntie Sue went to the bottom of the affair much sooner
than she expected.

It must have been about that same hour of the night when Betty Jo, after
reaching her decision to go away, retired to her bed, that Auntie Sue
was aroused by a low knocking at the open window of her room.

The old teacher listened without moving, her first thought being that
her fancy was tricking her. The sound came again, and, this time, there
could be no mistake. Sitting up in her bed, Auntie Sue looked toward
the window, and, at the sound of her movement, a low whisper came from
without.

"Don't be scared, Auntie Sue. Hit ain't nobody but just me."