“That’s the bunch, then! Lord, I didn’t think they’d go so far as that! But that Viola is a ring-leader,—she’s a vamp, if there ever was one! And little Russell! Well, she’s soft and babyish looking but she’s got the temper of a wildcat! And they were out for the goods, those young she’s! They’re all straight, you know, but they’re just little greedies. And that man was their natural prey. Why, they could get anything out of him! Not pearl necklaces and diamonds,—I don’t mean that,—but fans and vanity-cases and silk stockings and lockets and such trifles. Not trifles in the aggregate, though. That man must have spent a good big roll on ’em last night.” “How do you mean, spent it?” “Why, he’d give this one or that one a yellowback to buy a new hat, say,—and then the others would tease for new hats. And maybe, if he didn’t have the kale, he’d give ’em checks, or he’d tell ’em they could have the hat or the scarf or whatever charged to him. But he was strict. He told each one the limit she should pay, and if she paid more, they couldn’t be friends any more. It was a queer mix-up, but all friendly and decent. He was just like a big frolicsome boy, and the girlies were like soft little kittens, playful,—but, kittens can scratch.” “And they did?” “Yes, there was more real ill nature shown last night than ever before. Sir Herbert wasn’t as generous as usual; I daresay he’s tired of the game,—anyway, they couldn’t bamboozle him to more than little trinkets, and I think Viola was out for furs. And furs mean money. But he only smiled when she hinted and she spoke more plainly, and then when he didn’t agree she got mad.” “You seem to know all about it.” “Couldn’t help knowing. They took no pains to be quiet, and I was around most of the time, and finally I became interested to see how it would come out.” “And how did it?” “They all went off together,—I mean the girls did. He bundled ’em into a taxicab, gave the driver a bill and said good-night. That’s the way he always does. He never escorts ’em home. Then he came back in here, settled his account, lit a cigar and strolled off by himself.” “At what time was this?” “Abut one, or a little before. Not very late. Sir Herbert’s no villain. I read him like a book. He just liked to see those girls enjoy a good supper, same’s he liked to see ’em dance on the stage. Anyway, there’s the history of the evening, so far as I know anything about it.” Corson went away, went to the theater where the girls belonged,—found out where they lived and went there. The four lived in the same boarding house, and one and all refused to appear at any such unearthly hour as ten A. M. But the strong arm of the law was used as an argument, and, after a time, four kimonoed and petulant-faced maidens put in an appearance.