As I passed Vicky Van's house, on my way home, I saw lights pretty much all over it, and was strongly tempted to go in. But common sense told me I needed rest, and not only did I have many matters to attend to on the morrow, but I had to tell the story to Aunt Lucy and Winnie! That, of itself, would require some thought and tactful management, for I was not willing to have them condemn Vicky Van entirely, and yet, I could think of no argument to put forth for the girl's innocence. Time alone must tell. CHAPTER VI VICKY'S WAYS "Ches-ter Cal-houn! Get up this minute! There's a reporter downstairs! A reporter!" My sleepy eyes opened to find Winnie pounding my shoulder as it humped beneath the blanket. "Hey? What?" I grunted, trying to collect my perceptions. "A _reporter!_" If Winnie had said a Bengal tiger, she couldn't have looked more terrified. "Great Scott! Win--I remember! Clear out, I'll be down in a minute." I dressed in record time and went downstairs in three leaps. In the library, I found Aunt Lucy, wearing an expression that she might have shown if the garbage man had asked her to a dance. But Winnie was eagerly drinking in the story poured forth by the said reporter, who was quite evidently enjoying his audience. "Oh, Chet, this is Mr. Bemis of _The Meteor_. He's telling us all about the--you know--what happened." Winnie was too timid to say the word _murder,_ and I was sorry she had to hear the awful tale from any one but myself. However, there was no help for it now, and I joined the group and did all I could to bring Aunt Lucy's eyebrows and nose down to their accustomed levels. But it _was_ an awful story, make the best of it, and the truth had to be told. "It is appalling," conceded Aunt Lucy, at length, "but the most regrettable circumstance, to my mind, is your connection with it all, Chester." "Now, Auntie, have a little heart for poor Mrs. Schuyler, and those old lady sisters. Also for the man himself--" "Oh, I have, Chet. I'm not inhuman. But those things are in the papers every day, and while one feels a general sympathy, it can't be personal if one doesn't know the people. But, for you to be mixed up in such matters--" "I wasn't mixed up in it, Aunt Lucy, except as I chose to mix myself. And I've no doubt I should have gotten into it anyway. Mr. Bradbury will have a lot to do with it, I'm sure. I'm no better than he to mix in." "In a business way, yes. But you were there socially--where a murder was committed--" Aunt Lucy could have shown no more horror of it all, if I had been the convicted criminal. "And, I'm glad I was!" I cried, losing patience a little. "If I can be of any help to the Schuyler people or to Miss Van Allen, I shall be willing to do all I can. "But Miss Van Allen is the--the murderer!" and Aunt Lucy whispered the word. "Don't say that!" I cried sharply. "You don't know it at all, and there's no reason to condemn the girl--"