for
Miss Higginbotham. The only explanation I can think of is that he is
insane, and there are so many insane people in the world that it isn't
even interesting."

Patty recounted the story of Priscilla's caller at the dinner-table that
night.

"I know the sequel," said Lucille Carter. "The other man, the Mr.
Wiggins, is Bonnie Connaught's cousin; and he told her about some young
man who came out in the car with him, and asked for Miss Pond at the
door, and then all of a sudden seemed to change his mind, and went
tearing down the corridor after the maid, yelling, 'Hi, there! Hi,
there!' at the top of his voice; but he couldn't catch her, and when
Miss Pond came he pretended he had asked for some one else."

"Is that all?" asked Patty. "I don't think it is much of a sequel. It
just proves that there's a plot against Priscilla's life, and I already
knew that. I intend to ask Miss McKay about him. I don't know her,
except by sight, but in a case of life and death like this, I don't
think it's necessary to wait for an introduction."

The next evening Patty announced: "Sequel number two! Mr. Frederick K.
Stanthrope lives in New York, and is Miss McKay's brother's best friend.
She has only met him once before, and doesn't know any of his past
affiliations. But the queer thing is that he never mentioned to her
anything about Priscilla. Shouldn't you naturally think he would have
told her about such a funny mistake?

"In my opinion," Patty continued solemnly, "it was plainly premeditated.
He is undoubtedly a villain in disguise, and he used his acquaintance
with Miss McKay as a cloak to elude detection. My theory is this: He got
Priscilla's name out of the catalogue, and came here intending to murder
her for her _jools_; but when he saw how big she was he was scared and
so abandoned his dastardly intent. Now if he had chosen me, my body
would, at this moment, have been concealed behind the sofa, and my
class-pin reposing in the murderer's pocket."

Patty shuddered. "Think what I escaped. And all the time I was grumbling
because nothing ever happens here!"

A few days later she appeared at the table with a further announcement:
"I have the pleasure of offering for your perusal, young ladies, the
third and last sequel in the great Stanthrope-Pond-McKay mystery. And I
hereby take the opportunity of apologizing to Mr. Stanthrope for my
unworthy suspicions. He is not a burglar, nor a detective, nor a
murderer, nor even a la