“It was splendid of you,” she said, “not to be angry with Clive for his awful blunders. I--somehow I feel as if I never want to set eyes on him again. My father used to say: ‘I can endure a criminal, but I hate a fool.’ I thought it was a brutally cynical thing to say. But now--well, I can understand what Dad meant.” “You mustn’t blame old Clive!” begged Vail. “He’s sick and upset and hardly knows what he’s saying or doing. He thought I was in trouble. And he came to my defense. If he did it bunglingly his muddled brain and not his heart went back on him. I’m sorry Miss Gregg spoke to him as she did. It cut him up fearfully.” “Dear little Aunt Hester!” sighed Doris. “She knew us all when we were babies. And she can’t get over the notion we’re still five years old and that we must be scolded when we’re bad or when we blunder. She’s--she’s a darling!” “I ought to think so if any one does,” assented Vail. “If it hadn’t been for her testimony I’d be on my way to jail before now. But to think of her having to sit behind my desk all those hours! It was an outrage! The dear old soul!” Doris reddened, made as though to enlighten him, then shut her lips in a very definite line. Knowing the man as she did, she believed he was quite capable of refusing to profit by Miss Gregg’s subterfuge, and that he would announce at the inquest that the old lady had sacrificed the truth in a splendid effort to save him. Wherefore, being a wise girl, Doris held her peace. “In books,” said Vail, presently, “the falsely suspected hero thanks the heroine eloquently for her trust in him. I’m not going to thank you, Doris. But I think you know what your glorious trust means to me.” She looked down; under the strange light in his eyes. And in doing so she realized her hand was still interclasped with his. She made a conscientious effort to withdraw it. But the last few hours apparently had sapped her athletic young strength. For she lacked the muscular power to resist his tender grasp. That grasp grew tighter as he said, hurriedly, incoherently: “When I get out of this tangle--and I’m not going to let you be mixed up in it with me--there are all sorts of things I’m going to say to you, whether I have the right to or not. Till then--” He checked himself, his ardent words ending in a growl of disgust. Up the driveway toward the house was striding Osmun Creede. CHAPTER XIV A CLUELESS CLUE Creede had changed his dark habiliments of the preceding night for a suit of flannels. His sagging shoulder and slight limp were accentuated by the outdoor garb. Doris drew back from the doorway at sight of him. But Vail stood where he was.