"She always gets such good marks for her Cæsar," said Maggie Woodhall, doubtfully.
"Well, she told me herself it was a secret how she did it," declared Beatrice Wynne. "She said she couldn't explain it, and wouldn't if she could, and if we knew we might all do it equally well. Could anything be clearer than that?"
"And the initials were P. H., for Patty Hirst!" added Ella Johnson.
Patty, as she took her lunch, could not help overhearing what was said by the group round the door. At first she did not quite understand the drift of the conversation, but at Ella's remark a light suddenly dawned upon her. Putting down her glass of milk, she turned abruptly to the others.
"Girls," she cried, "surely you can't suspect me of owning that wretched 'crib'?"
"Then whose is it if it's not yours?" asked Beatrice Wynne.
"I don't know, any more than you. But one thing's certain, I've had nothing to do with it. Why, I wouldn't have soiled my fingers by touching it!"
"How about the initials?" enquired Ella Johnson, with a touch of sarcasm in her voice.
"I don't know. It never occurred to me till this minute that you could connect my name with them."
"It's a funny coincidence," sneered Vera Clifford.