ant. "You'll play Broadway for
six months next winter--or I'm no manager."

It was the manager of the Brambleside Inn and the Green County
sheriff, however, who gave the greatest dramatic effect. They placed
themselves adroitly on either side of Patsy and announced together:
"You're under arrest!"

"Holy Saint Patrick!" Patsy hardly knew whether to be amused or
angry. With the actual coming of the tinker, and the laying of her
fears, her mind seemed strangely limp and inadequate. Her lips
quivered even as they smiled. "Maybe I had best go back to my bier;
you couldn't arrest a dead Capulet."

But George Travis swept her aside; he saw nothing amusing in the
situation. "What do you mean by insulting Miss O'Connell and myself
by such a performance? Why should she be under arrest--for being one
of the best Shakespearean actresses we've had in this country for
many a long, barren year?"

"No! For stealing two thousand dollars' worth of diamonds from a
guest in this hotel the night she palmed herself off as Miss St.
Regis!" The manager of the Inn bit off his words as if he thoroughly
enjoyed their flavor.

"But she never was here," shouted Travis.

"Yes, I was," contradicted Patsy.

"And she sneaked off in the morning with the jewels," growled the
manager.

"And I trailed over the country for four days, trying to find the
girl in a brown suit that he'd described--said she was on her way to
Arden. I'd give a doggoned big cigar to know where you was all that
time." And there was something akin to admiration in the sheriff's
expression.

But Patsy did not see. She was looking hard at the tinker, with an
odd little smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

The tinker smiled back, while he reached deep into his trousers
pocket and brought out a small package which he presented to the
sheriff. "Are those what you are looking for?"

They were five unset diamonds.

"Well, I'll be hanged! Did she give them to you?" The manager of the
Inn looked suspiciously from the tinker to Patsy.

"No; she didn't know I had them--didn't even know they existed and
that she was being trailed as a suspected thief. Why, what's the
matter?" For Patsy had suddenly grown white and her lips were
trembling past control.

"Naught--naught they could understand. But I'm finding out there was
more than one quest on the road to Arden, more than one soul who
fared forth to help another in trouble. And my heart is breaking,
just, with the me