The temperamental little thing stood like a wild creature at bay, her eyes glowing like those of a fawn about to receive the arrow of a hunter or a huntress. Miss Gerald did not look a very remorseless huntress, however. “How did he know I did it?” said Dolly with a glance toward the hammer-thrower. “He didn’t catch me at it.” Defiantly. “Deduction, my dear,” replied Gwendoline. “He can’t prove it. I defy him.” The jolly little pal felt now how one feels when he or she is haled into a court of justice. She wouldn’t “peach” though. They could put her through the third or the thirty-third degree and she wouldn’t tell on Bob. Never! “You have only _his_ word,” with another glance at the hammer-thrower, “and maybe my word is as good as his.” She had to tell a whopper; but she would tell a million for Bob. It was a pal’s duty to. “But I saw you do it,” now interposed the monocle-man with a quiet smile. She almost wilted at that, then threw back her head farther. “I”—Bob stepped quickly forward—“gave it to her. It was I,” gravely to Miss Gerald, “who had your ring. Think what you please.” She had already passed judgment on him, he remembered. “Don’t you believe him,” tempestuously interrupted the temperamental little thing. “I took it myself. It—it was just a joke.” “That’s what Miss Gerald and I were saying just now,” observed the hammer-thrower heavily. He held himself just as if he were a remote, rather puzzled bystander. Bob gave a hoarse laugh. He couldn’t control himself. “I beg your pardon,” observed the monocle-man, “but I am afraid Miss Dolly, in her zeal, is rather misleading in her statements. Her vale of friendship, I have noticed, on her palm, is well developed. At the same time I can not let her wrongfully accuse herself, even though the matter should pass as a jest. I have to tell the truth—you must forgive me, Miss Dolly. But I saw Mr. Bennett pass you that ring during the dance.” “But why should he?” spoke up Miss Gerald. “Can’t you enlighten me, dear?” To the temperamental young thing. “I won’t say a word,” said the latter at a loss. “Only I’d like to tell you”—to the monocle-man—“how much I like you.” “I’m sorry to have displeased you,” he answered simply. “You have really a charming hand. As for the reason you ask”—to Miss Gerald—“it should not be difficult to find. I conclude that Mr. Bennett asked Miss Dolly to return the ring to Miss Gerald’s room. I think that was what she was trying to do and I’m afraid I prevented her.” “But why should Mr. Bennett”—Gwendoline did not deign to address that young man direct—“have asked Dolly to do that?” “Maybe,” suggested the monocle-man, “Mr. Bennett will answer that himself.” “What’s the use?” said Bob. “Nobody believes anything I say.” Miss Gwendoline still acted as if she did not see him. “If you take him to jail, I’m going too,” remarked the temperamental little thing. “If he’s guilty, I—” “You suggest, then, he is guilty?” said the monocle-man quickly. “No; no! I—”