A shrill whistle brought two men in from outside, and Winston Bannard was marched to jail. CHAPTER VIII RODNEY POLLOCK APPEARS The shock of Bannard's arrest caused the complete collapse of Iris. Miss Darrel put the girl to bed and sent for Doctor Littell. He prescribed only rest and quiet and ordinary care, saying that a nurse was unnecessary, as Iris' physical health was unaffected and he knew her well enough to feel sure that she would recuperate quickly. And she did. A day or two later she was herself again, and ready to follow up her determination to avenge the death of Ursula Pell. "It's too absurd to suspect Win!" she said to the Bowens, who called often. "That boy is no more guilty than I am! Of course, he wasn't up here last Sunday! But no one will believe in his innocence until the real murderer is found. And I'm going to find him, and find the jewels, and solve the whole mystery!" "There, there, Iris," Miss Darrel said, soothingly, for she thought the girl still hysterical, "don't think about those things now." "Not think about them!" cried Iris, "why, what else can I think of? I've thought of nothing else for the whole week. It's Saturday now, and in six days we've done nothing, positively nothing toward finding the criminal." "Perhaps it would be better not to try," suggested Mr. Bowen, gently. "You say that because you believe Win guilty!" Iris shot at him. "I _know_ he wasn't! You don't think he was, do you, Mrs. Bowen?" "I scarcely know what to think, Iris, it is all so mysterious. Even if Winston did commit the crime, how did he get out of the room?" "That's a secondary consideration----" "I don't think so," put in the rector. "I think that's the first thing to be decided. Knowing that one could speculate----" Iris turned away wearily. Though fond of the gentle little Mrs. Bowen, she had never liked the pompous and self-important clergyman, and she rose now to greet someone who appeared at the outer door. It was Roger Downing, who, always devoted to Iris, was now striving to earn her gratitude by showing his willingness to be of help in any way he might. He came every day, and though Iris was careful not to encourage him, she eagerly wanted to know just what he knew about Bannard's presence at Pellbrook on the day of the tragedy. "It's this way," Downing expressed it. "Win was certainly up here last Sunday, for I saw him. Now, Iris, if you want me to say I was mistaken as to his identity, I'll say it--but, I wasn't." "You mean, sir, you would tell an untruth?" said Mr. Bowen, severely. "I mean just that," averred Downing; "I care far more for Miss Clyde and her wishes than I do for the Goddess of Truth. I'm sorry if I shock you, sir, but that is the fact." Mr. Bowen indeed looked shocked, but Iris said, emphatically, "You _were_ mistaken, Roger, you must have been!" "Very well, then, I was," he returned, but everyone knew he was purposely making a misstatement.