of every man who knows he has done wrong. The bodily
Billy was more conscious of the discomfort of his feet, but the
mental Billy was all collar. He had never known a collar to be so
obtrusive. He felt that he must seem all collar, even to the most
casual eye, but he was upheld by the belief that no one would dare
to mention collar to him in public. If he had sinned he was not the
only sinner, for he was but a partner in conspiracy. He walked down
the stairs boldly.
"And to think that his vanity should be the cause of robbing poor
little Bobberts," he heard a clear voice say as he neared the
dining room door. "It is too mean! I can never look up to man with
the faith I have always had in man, after this. But I know they were
his foot-prints, Laura."
"Are you so sure, Kitty?" asked Mrs. Fenelby. "Mightn't they
be--mightn't they be Bridget's?"
"They were not," said the voice of Kitty, and Billy paused where he
was and stood still. "Bridget does not go about in the wet grass in
her stocking feet. Those were Billy's tracks on the porch. I am no
Sherlock Holmes, but I can tell you just what he did. He stole down
before we were awake, to look for that collar, and he did not find
it on the railing where he had left it. Then he saw it where it had
fallen and he went down on the wet lawn and got it. Watch him when
he comes in to breakfast. He will be wearing a collar, and it will
not be the one he wore last night."
Billy turned and tip-toed softly up the stairs again, undoing his
tie as he went. When he came down his neck was neatly, but
informally swathed in a white handkerchief. Three pairs of eyes
watched him as he entered, but he faced them unflinchingly. Mr. and
Mrs. Fenelby let their eyes drop before his glance, but Kitty met
his gaze with a challenge. There was nothing of treachery in her
face, and yet she had sought to betray him. He looked at her with
greater interest than he had ever known himself to feel regarding
any girl, and as he looked he had a startled sense that she was
fairer than she had been, and he caught his breath quickly and began
to talk to Mrs. Fenelby.
"Tom," he said, after breakfast, as Mr. Fenelby was getting ready
to leave to catch his train, "I think I'll walk over to the station
with you. I have something I want to say to you."
"Come along," said Mr. Fenelby. "But you will have to walk quickly.
I have just time to catch my train."
"Did you notice anything peculiar about Miss Kit
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