am I. But there was nothing in the bedroom except some pearl
studs. I got those and then went back to the parlor.

The desk caught my eye. Oh, Mag, it had the loveliest pictures on
it--pictures of swell actresses and dancers. It was mahogany, with
lots of little drawers and two curvy side boxes. I pulled open all the
drawers. They were full of papers all right, but they were printed,
cut from newspapers, and all about theaters.

"You can't feed things like this, Nance, to that shark of a lawyer," I
said to myself, pushing the box on the side impatiently.

And then I giggled outright.

Why?

Just 'cause--I had pushed that side box till it swung aside on hinges I
didn't know about, and there, in a little secret nest, was a pile of
those same crisp, crinkly paper things I'd been looking for.
20--40--60--110--160--210--260--310!

Three hundred and ten dollars, Mag Monahan. Three hundred and ten, and
Nance Olden!

"Glory be!" I whispered.

"Glory be damned!" I heard behind me.

I turned. The bills just leaked out of my hand on to the floor.

The Bachelor Beauty had come home, Mag, and nabbed the poor Princess,
instead of her catching him napping.

He wasn't a beauty either--a big, stout fellow with a black mustache.
His hand on my shoulder held me tight, but the look in his eyes behind
his glasses held me tighter. I threw out my arms over the desk and hid
my face.

Caught! Nancy Olden, with her hands dripping, and not a lie in her
smart mouth!

He picked up the bills I had dropped, counted them and put them in his
pocket. Then he unhooked a telephone and lifted the stand from his
desk.

"Hello! Spring 3100--please. Hello! Chief's office? This is
Obermuller, Standard Theater. I want an officer to take charge of a
thief I've caught in my apartments here at the Bronsonia. Yes, right
on the corner. Hold him till you come? Well--rather!"

He put down the 'phone. I pulled the pearl studs out of my pocket.

"You might as well take these, too," I said.

"So thoughtful of you, seeing that you'd be searched! But I'll take
'em, anyway. You intended them for--Him? You didn't get anything
else?"

I shook my head as I lay there.

"Hum!" It was half a laugh, and half a sneer. I hated him for it, as
he sat leaning back on the back legs of his chair, his thumbs in his
arm-holes. I felt his eyes--those smart, keen eyes, burning into my
miserable head. I thought of the lawyer and the deal he