Zizi’s penetrating glance overcame Molly’s boldness and she trembled in silence as Zizi said, “by marriage!” Even Wise looked up in amazement; “What _do_ you mean, Zizi?” “Just what I say. Molly is wearing a very bright, new wedding ring. She didn’t have it yesterday. Molly knows the truth we’re looking for, and she won’t tell because it implicates a man who has married her to keep her quiet! Is it Bob Moore, Molly.” “Yes, ma’am,” said the girl, in a low tone, and with a very apparent look of relief. “Then it isn’t,” said Zizi triumphantly; “I know by the way you speak! Who is it?” “It isn’t anybody,” Molly said, but she said it with a furtive glance at their faces in turn; with a hesitating air of uncertainty as to what course to take; with a futile attempt at her old impudent manner. “I’m not really married; lots of us girls wear a wedding ring to fool people.” “Rubbish!” said Zizi, contemptuously. “There’s no sense in that! You are married,—or, you think you are—aha, I thought so!” For Molly’s scared glance betokened that Zizi had struck on the truth. Quite evidently she was apprehensive lest the aspersion should prove a correct one. “He married you in an extremity of fear,—fear that you would tell of his visit to the room,—now, who could it be, Penny? It’s easy enough to judge if we guess right,—but I can’t think of any one. It must be some employe of the house,—or——” “Or some tool of some of the bakery people,” said Wise. “Look higher,” jeered Molly, her self-confidence returning, as she realized their uncertainty. “Good heavens!” cried Zizi, “you can’t mean Richard Bates!” “Yep,” said Molly, and her eyes danced with a wicked glee. “Oh, incredible!” wailed Zizi. “Yet I’ve been afraid of him all along. You see, he’s shielding his aunt. I’m sure Miss Prall is——” “You said you didn’t believe her guilty,” spoke up Wise. “I know I did, but what other way can we turn? It can’t be any less important person who married Molly to shut her up. There can’t be any reason that would make Bates do so, but to shield his aunt from suspicion. Molly says now it was a woman searching the room,—of course, she didn’t want the recipe,—that’s a side issue; she wanted some letters or something in connection with the breach of promise——” “Come, come, Zizi, you can’t take that little yellow-topped widow’s yarn of a breach of promise too seriously——” “Why not? She is innocent herself, I know. She suspects Miss Prall, I know. She gave a perfectly good motive,—why, Pen, if women killed that man where’s another motive that can hold a candle to the ‘woman scorned’ idea? Come, Molly, own up; was it Miss Prall searching the room?” “Oh, no, miss!” and Molly’s eyes bulged with such real surprise that there was no doubting her sincerity this time. “But how could you tell, if the figure was a veiled one?” asked Wise. “Oh, I could tell it wasn’t Miss Prall,—gracious, no!” “What was the—the person looking for,—I mean where was the search made?”