“Be careful,” advised the Chief. “I want straight answers, not foolishness, from you.”
Jenny sulked. “I’m givin’ it to you as straight’s I can, Mr. Chief. Honest to goodness, I don’t know if Miss Olive was just before the Driggs hen or after her!”
“Also, be more careful of your choice of words. Did Mrs. Driggs go back through your room when she left?”
“Yes, I guess she did,—but,—lemmesee, no, I guess she didn’t either.”
“Isn’t your memory very short?”
“For such trifles, yes, sir. But I can remember lots of things real easy. I’ve got a date now, with——”
“Stop! If you don’t look out, young woman, you’ll be locked up!”
“Behave pretty, now, Jenny girl,” urged her father, who was quite evidently the slave of his resplendent offspring; “don’t be flip; this here’s no place for such-like manners.”
“You’re right, it isn’t,” agreed the Chief, and he glared at Jenny, who was utterly unmoved by his sternness.
“Well, ain’t I behaving pretty?” and the silly thing giggled archly and folded her hands with an air of mock meekness.