“All right, Miss Lindsay—what you say goes. You’ve never been there. Is that what you came to tell me?” Ivy cocked her foolish little curly head on one side, and gave Phyllis such a humorous wink that she couldn’t help smiling. “I don’t wonder Louis likes you,” she said, impulsively. “You’re an adorable little piece.” “That’s right,” said Ivy, gravely. “Pile it on thick. I just lap it up. Do you think I’m pretty?” “Yes,” Phyllis returned, simply. “Now, tell me again, why did you think the—the person Mr Gleason said those things to was myself, when you never had seen me—and you say you couldn’t hear me.” “Well, when the bell rang, Mr Gleason said it was you. That he expected you.” Phyllis turned pale. “Go on,” she said. “That’s all. He said, ‘That’s Miss Lindsay coming up. You go.’ So I went. I hung around a few moments, trying to get a glimpse of you, but I couldn’t. I heard you speak, but you spoke so low, and the door was almost shut, so I couldn’t hear a word you said.” “Well,” Phyllis drew a long breath. “If I was there—I didn’t kill Mr Gleason.” “Of course you didn’t!” Ivy exclaimed. Then, with a look deep into Phyllis’ eyes, she added, “And you weren’t there. I know it now!” “How do you know it?” “Oh, it’s come to me. You were not there that day at all, Miss Lindsay. As you say, you’ve never been there.” Ivy looked very grave. She gazed at Phyllis with a strange look of divination, and added, “I know you haven’t.” “Oh, yes, I have,” Phyllis cried quickly. “I _was_ there that day—I was, really. I just said I wasn’t—because——” “Oh, come now,” Ivy smiled a little but she did not laugh. “What am I to think? You were there and you weren’t there! You’ve never been there and you were there that day! My goodness gracious!” “I was there,” Phyllis said, looking at her coldly. “I said at first I wasn’t, for—for reasons of my own——” “Yes, I know,” and Ivy nodded a sagacious head. “What are we going to do about it?” Phyllis stared. “About what?” “About the—the reason you said—you know——” “Don’t! Don’t look like that! You’re uncanny. What do you know?” “I don’t know anything. Do you?” “About what?” “About who killed Mr Gleason.” This time Ivy looked directly at Phyllis, and that with a meaning glance. Phyllis covered her face with her hands, and at once Ivy ran to her side and threw her arms around her. “Now, don’t cry,” she begged. “It’s no time for that. Let’s see what we can do.” “Do about what? What are you talking about?” “Shall I speak out? Shall I put it into words?” “Yes,” said Phyllis, but she shrank as from a sudden blow. “Then, here’s how I dope it out. It wasn’t you who were there—but it was Louis.” “Oh, no, no! It was I. It wasn’t Buddy.” “Yes it was. You’re trying to shield him. I see it. Now, don’t take that tack with me. Own up—tell me all you know—and I’ll help you.” Phyllis thought a moment.