The last three words were said in such a menacing tone that Iris jumped. It seemed this laughing young woman could turn decidedly threatening. Iris capitulated. "In view of what you imply, I'll be as friendly as I can, but I confess I don't feel really sisterly toward you!" "That's better! That line o' talk is most certainly better. Now, maybe we can hit it off. What do you want to know?" "Why I was carried off in this manner! Who did it? Where am I being taken? Why?" "The questions put by thee, dear heart, Are as a string of pearls to me----" The lilting voice was true, and the soft tones very sweet. Iris was attracted, in spite of herself, to this strange person. "I'll answer separately--every one apart----" she twittered on. "First, you were--ahem--accumulated, for a good and wise purpose. The principal actor, who could be said to answer your question of who did it, is not in our midst at present. You are being taken to a house. Why? Ah, if I tell you, you will know, won't you?" Flossie looked provoking, but good-natured, and Iris deemed it wiser not to rouse her ire again. "You haven't really answered, but I suppose you won't. Well, when can I go back home?" "If you're goody-girl, you can return in, say, a couple of hours. If not--ah, if not!" Suddenly a light broke upon Iris. It was that pin! These strange people were after the pin! And it was sticking in her shirtwaist frill, just where she had put it when Polly gave it to her. They must not get it! Now, if ever, she must use her wits. For, if anybody wanted that pin so desperately, it was, it _must be_ valuable. Also, if Ursula Pell had cherished that pin as old Polly described, it surely was valuable. Iris thought quickly. This sharp-eyed girl would be difficult to hoodwink, yet it must be done. Had she seen the pin? A furtive glance at the full ruffle of lawn and lace showed Iris that the pin was not prominently visible, though she could see it. Why did they want it? But that didn't matter now--now she must hide it. Would she be searched, she wondered. Surely she would not be submitted to such an insult. Yet, it might be. At any rate, it must be hidden. This was the real pin, the others had not been, and these people who were after it knew that. What the pin meant, or why they wanted it, must be left undecided, but the pin must be made safe. Iris thought of dropping it out of the window, which was open, though the shade was down, but concluded that her ever finding it again would be too doubtful. She thought of concealing it in her abundant hair--but suppose she were made to take down her hair! A sort of intuition told her that she would be searched, and she must be ready. At last she thought of a hiding-place, and as a start she drew Flossie's attention to a slightly loose shade tassel, while, with a gesture as of straightening a tiny velvet bow at her throat, she drew her hand down the frill, and brought the pin with it.