Blankly, innocently as babes unborn, and still not too innocently withal, Anthony and Johnson Boller stared back, and the latter even had assurance enough to say: "What's the idea, Bee? Is it a roll-call?" "It is the names of the three women in New York who have bought that particular style of hat from Sarah," said Mrs. Boller. "She made up just three, as is her custom, and when they were sold she made no more. So that in spite of your extreme wonder at hearing the names, and although I had rather hoped to guess which one it might be, one of that trio was in this flat last night. Which one?" Johnson Boller shook his head vigorously. "None of 'em!" he said flatly. "What do _you_ say?" Beatrice asked Anthony. "Madam, I decline to say anything whatever!" Anthony said stiffly. "Really?" smiled Beatrice, and gazed at them pensively for a little while. "I do not know intimately any of these ladies. They have, doubtless, a husband and fathers and, I hope, a few big brothers, too, to take care of them properly. And since they have, I may as well tell you just what I mean to do. I'm going to Mrs. Wales first." It produced no visible shock. "I'm going to accuse her, in so many words, of passing last night in this apartment, and I'll say you confessed!" pursued Beatrice. "Perhaps she can clear herself by showing me the duplicate of this hat; perhaps she cannot. In any event, it seems probable that her husband and the rest of her male relatives will make a point of coming here and beating you two to a jelly." It did seem rather likely, and Johnson Boller glanced at his old friend and received no aid at all. "Unless she confesses, Miss Cathcart receives the next call," said Johnson's wife. "The procedure will be the same; the results to you, I sincerely hope, will be the same. After that, if necessary, I shall go to the Dalton woman's home and repeat the performance, and doubtless _her_ father and _her_ brothers will----" "Say! Do you want to have us killed?" Johnson Boller gasped. "Yes!" hissed the Spanish strain in Beatrice. "Well?" Anthony shook his head quietly. "None of the ladies you have mentioned----" he began. "One of them was here, and I'll soon know which one!" Beatrice corrected quickly. "Do you wish to save the other two?" Anthony said nothing. "Nope!" Johnson Boller said doggedly. Beatrice rose slowly and looked them over. "Do you know," said she, all withering contempt, "I had been fool enough to fancy that there was man enough in one or the other of you to spare the innocent women a very distressing quarter of an hour. Even if that failed, I had fancied that one or the other would have sufficient intelligence to avoid a thrashing if possible. I was wrong! There isn't a spark of manhood or an ounce of brain matter in either of you--and to think that I married _you_!"