yet, I could think of no argument to put forth for the girl's
innocence.

Time alone must tell.




CHAPTER VI

VICKY'S WAYS


"Ches-ter Cal-houn! Get up this minute! There's a reporter
downstairs! A reporter!"

My sleepy eyes opened to find Winnie pounding my shoulder as it humped
beneath the blanket.

"Hey? What?" I grunted, trying to collect my perceptions.

"A _reporter!_" If Winnie had said a Bengal tiger, she couldn't have
looked more terrified.

"Great Scott! Win--I remember! Clear out, I'll be down in a minute."

I dressed in record time and went downstairs in three leaps.

In the library, I found Aunt Lucy, wearing an expression that she
might have shown if the garbage man had asked her to a dance.