“It was I. I did it,” said Dorothy, almost in tears. “We should never allow ourselves to become acquainted with strangers in any such way. Now you see what it means, Tavia. It is not your fault—it is mine. But it should teach you a lesson as well as me.” “Goodness!” said the startled Tavia. “I don’t see that it is anything very terrible. The fellow is really nothing to us.” “But people having seen us with him—and then seeing him with that common-acting girl——” “Pooh! what do we care?” repeated Tavia. “Garry Knapp is nothing to us, and never would be.” Dorothy said not another word, but turned quickly away from her friend. She was very quiet while they made ready for their shopping trip, and Tavia could not arouse her. Careless and unobservant as Tavia was, anything seriously the matter with her chum always influenced her. She gradually “simmered down” herself, and when they started forth from their rooms both girls were morose. As they passed through the lobby a bellhop was called to the desk, and then he charged after the two girls. “Please, Miss! Which is Miss Dale?” he asked, looking at the letter in his hand. Dorothy held out her hand and took it. It was written on the hotel stationery, and the handwriting was strange to her. She tore it open at once. She read the line or two of the note, and then stopped, stunned. “What is it?” asked Tavia, wonderingly. Dorothy handed her the note. It was signed “G. Knapp” and read as follows: “Dear Miss Dale: “Did your friend get her bag and money all right?” CHAPTER VII GARRY SEES A WALL AHEAD “Why, what under the sun! How did _he_ come to know about it?” demanded Tavia. “Goodness!” “He—he maybe—had something to do with recovering it for you,” Dorothy said faintly. Yet in her heart she knew that it was hope that suggested the idea, not reason. “Well, I am going to find out right now,” declared Tavia Travers, and she marched back to the clerk’s desk before Dorothy could object, had she desired to. “This note to my friend is from Mr. Knapp, who is stopping here,” Tavia said to the young man behind the counter. “Did he have anything to do with getting back my bag?” “I know nothing about your bag, Miss,” said the clerk. “I was not on duty, I presume, when it was handed in. You are Miss——” “Travers.” The clerk went to the safe and found a memorandum, which he read and then returned to the desk. “Your supposition is correct, Miss Travers. Mr. Knapp handed in the handbag and took a receipt for it.” “When did he do that?” asked Tavia, quickly, almost overpowered with amazement. “Some time during the night. Before I came on duty at seven o’clock.” “Well! isn’t that the strangest thing?” Tavia said to Dorothy, when she rejoined her friend at the hotel entrance after thanking the clerk. “How ever could he have got it in the night?” murmured Dorothy.