But Lora had evidently caught a note of reality in the girl’s voice, for she said, almost sharply, “What do you know, Posy? If you know anything concerning the matter, it is your duty to tell of it.” “I’d rather tell Mr. Moore,” she put on an air of importance. “He is at the head of the investigation, I assume.” Lora smiled, in spite of herself, at the chit’s manner, but she only said, suavely: “As a good wife, I am my husband’s helpmeet in all his business. And I assure you it will be better to tell me and let me pass it on to him, for he’s gone out, and I don’t know when he’ll get home again.” “Do tell us,” Maud urged, helpfully. “We are all intrigued, as you say, with the case, and your assistance might prove invaluable.” The flattering glance that accompanied this speech seemed to win the day, and Posy settled back in the big chair, sticking her feet out straight in front of her. “Well,” she said, smoothing down her brief and scant skirt, “you see, our house is on down the lake, next below Whistling Reeds.” Recognizing there was or might be something coming, I turned back, and sat down again. “So, of course, I can’t help seeing them about now and then, though I don’t really rubber much—I don’t get time, as I’m busy on my own. And, after all, there’s nothing to see, and if there was, you can’t see much with all that wall of evergreens all round about.” “If this is idle gossip, my dear——” Lora began. “No, it’s—it’s information.” Thoroughly enjoying the attention she was receiving, Posy prolonged the situation by selecting and lighting a fresh cigarette. Having drawn one puff, she turned it round and critically surveyed the lighted end, as is the absurd habit of some people. But each one of her hearers knew better than to interrupt by word or look the possible continuance of her revelations. “Now, what I have to tell, I’ve never breathed to a soul. I’m not sure now that I ought to breathe it.” She looked questioningly about, but we gave no aid or hindrance, knowing the best plan was to let her alone. Then she drew a long sigh, and let the whole story pour forth in a mad rush of words. “And it’s only one thing I saw, and one thing I heard. And I saw Alma Remsen, out on the tennis court, in a perfectly fiendish rage, and she was striking that old nurse person of hers and calling her the most terrible names, and the man who takes care of the place came and carried her into the house.” “Carried the nurse?” “No, of course not! Carried Alma into the house, and she was kicking and fighting like mad. And the other time was when I was out on the lake and I could see just the same sort of row going on, but I was too far to hear what she said. But this time the man wasn’t about and the nurse managed by herself to drag Alma into the house.” “You’re sure what you are saying is true, Posy?” asked Lora, very gravely and with an intent look at the girl.