Concealed in her left hand, and stealthily watching her companion's eyes, she waited her chance, and then, unnoticed, she thrust it, head end first, into the hem of her white serge skirt. The loose weave of the material made this possible, and the pin disappeared into the inch wide hem. It might be safe there and it might not. Iris thought it would, and at any rate she could think of no better place to conceal it. Also, getting another pin from her belt she placed it where the "valuable" pin had been, for further precaution. Nor did she accomplish her work much too soon, for very shortly they drove in at a gate and stopped at the door of a small house. There was no attempt at hiding now, and Iris was handed out of the car by the man who had driven them. With no appearance of stealth, Flossie ushered her into the house, which proved to be an ordinary, middle-class dwelling of country people. The sitting room they went into had a table with a red cover, some books of no interest, and an old-fashioned lamp on a wool-work mat. The patent rocker and a few other worn chairs betokened family furnishings bought in the eighties, and not renewed since. Flossie closed the door, and spoke to Iris, in a new and very decided tone. "Miss Clyde," she said, with respect and politeness, "I'm truly sorry, but you are here and I am here, in order that I may take from you a pin, which you have somewhere in your clothing. I deeply regret the necessity, but it is imperative that I make sure of getting every pin that is on your person. Please do not make it harder for me--for both of us--than is necessary. For, I assure you, I shall do my duty." "A pin?" said Iris, innocently, "here is one." She took one from her belt, in which there chanced to be several, and thanked her lucky stars that she had hidden the real one. It might be found, for this girl was surely energetic, but Iris trusted much to her own dramatic ability now. "Not one, but all," said Flossie, gravely. "I'm afraid you don't understand----" "I'm sure I don't!" interrupted Iris. "What about a pin?" "I won't waste words with you, if you please. I am here to take from you every pin you have in your clothing. You will please undress slowly, that I may get them all. Here is a paper of new ones to replace them. Will you please take off your shirtwaist, or shall I?" Iris looked aghast. Then she concluded it would be best to submit. "Will you lock the door?" she said, haughtily. "It is locked. We are quite safe from intrusion or interruption. Please proceed." Iris proceeded. But as she removed her shirtwaist, she furtively, yet careful that Flossie should see her, glanced at the pin in its frill. She laid the garment on a chair, and went on to disrobe, with the cold dignity of a queen on the scaffold. Flossie was kind and delicately courteous.