The temperamental little thing looked up in the air. She would be mainly responsible for sending Bob to jail—the thought burned. What was a treacherous but repentant pal’s duty under the circumstances? She had a vision, too, of those adjoining cells. “You see,” she began dreamily, “my father is rather sparing of the spending money he allows me, and I have terribly extravagant tastes. Why, my hats alone cost a fortune. I simply have got to have nice and expensive things.” Again Bob groaned. Dolly dreamed on: “I’ve bushel-baskets of silk stockings, for example. See!” Displaying an exquisite ankle. “My gowns all come from Paris. Gwendoline can tell you that.” Miss Gerald did not deny. “And they’re not gowns from those side-street dressmakers, either. They come from _the_ places on the rue de la Paix. Besides”—Dolly’s dream expanded—“I like to take things.” Another groan from Bob. “I think I’m a clepto.” “There isn’t one word of truth in what she’s saying,” exclaimed Bob indignantly. “Why, it’s outrageous. She doesn’t realize what she’s doing.” “Yes, I do,” returned little pal with a stanch and loyal glance. “Why should you take all the blame when I’m entitled to half of it?” “You aren’t entitled to any of it,” he retorted helplessly. “And there isn’t any blame for you to share, either.” “Do you expect us to believe that?” observed the monocle-man reproachfully. “No, I don’t.” “Or a jury?” “Perhaps not.” “Really, old chap”—began the hammer-man sedulously, and he looked awfully sorry. Perhaps he was going to extend his sympathy. “Say it in Latin!” interrupted Bob ungratefully. “What does he mean?” queried the monocle-man. “I’m really at a loss,” answered the hammer-thrower. That gentleman had gleaned a great deal of information of a most gratifying nature. He didn’t know all the whys and wherefores, but it was sufficient that Bob seemed too deep in the toils to extricate himself. A happy (to the hammer-man) combination of circumstances had involved the other. “Please let him go,” again pleaded Miss Dolly to Gwendoline. “Be a dear. Besides, think how he—” She went over to Miss Gerald suddenly and whispered two words—two ardent electrical words! Gwendoline’s eyes flashed but she did not answer. One of the hammer-thrower’s hands closed. “I fear Miss Gerald couldn’t do that now, if she wanted to,” interposed the monocle-man. “It isn’t altogether her affair or her aunt’s. You see, there are other people who gave those other social functions Mr. Bennett attended. They may not incline to be sentimentally—I may say foolishly lenient. So you see even if I desired to oblige a lady”—bowing to Dolly “whom I esteem very much, my hands are tied. Justice, in other words, must take its course.” Bob looked at Gwendoline. “Some day, Miss Gerald, you may realize you helped, or tried to help, convict an innocent man.”