But then, again, was this course right? If Carney were so depraved as to steal from the family who had treated him with such kindness, surely it was their duty to deliver him into the hands of justice. Victoria knew that this would be Roger Madison’s opinion. She had just determined to say nothing and to allow matters to take their course without interference from her, when something which Peter said to her again unsettled her. The boy was in the hammock, which was hung across one end of the piazza directly in front of the dining-room window. Seeing Victoria within, where she was busily washing the breakfast dishes, he called to her to come to him. “What do you want?” asked Victoria, appearing on the other side of the wire screen at the window, with a saucer in her hand which she was vigorously wiping with a crash towel. “I’m awfully busy, Peter. It is ironing day, you know, and Honor and Katherine are making the beds, so I have to do the breakfast things alone. Sophy is helping me, but—you know what that means!” “I want to speak to you,” said Peter, raising himself on one arm, and lowering his voice to a mysterious whisper. “It’s really very important, Vic. About last night, you know. Can’t you come out here a minute? Is any one else in there?” “Only Sophy.” “Not Aunt Sophia?” “No; she is upstairs.” “Oh, then do come out, quick! It’s a good chance. And shut that window. I don’t want any one inside to hear me.” Victoria saw that he had really something of importance to communicate, so, leaving several articles upon the tray for Sophy to wipe during her absence, and giving her strict injunctions to be careful, she closed the dining-room window, and went around through the door to Peter on the piazza. “Have you seen Carney this morning?” he asked eagerly. Victoria started. The mention of Carney’s name fitted so exactly with her own thoughts. “No,” she replied. “Vic, do you think it could have been he? I wasn’t going to let on to Aunt Sophia that I thought it for a minute, but I do feel kind of shaky about it.” “Why, Peter, do you really?” said Victoria. “Wouldn’t it—at least, why should he have chosen that way of letting the burglars in? If it was really Dave who opened the door, I should think he could have found some other way of doing it. He is around the kitchen so much, he might have left a window unbolted, or something of that sort. It would have been easier than climbing up to my room. And now I come to think of it, Dave knew that was my room. He came up there once, to hang my book shelves. He never would have been so stupid as to climb in that way!” Victoria’s tone expressed a sense of relief. She had not thought of this before. She almost forgot her surprise at Peter’s suspicions. “But, Vic,” said her brother, “I must tell you something I have never told anybody, and it kind of bothers me. I never told you what Carney was doing when I first saw him.” “No. Was it anything wrong, Peter?”