“I don’t know.”
The dark eyes gave him a gaze of childlike innocence, and Cray couldn’t decide whether he was looking at a deep-dyed criminal or a helpless victim of unjust suspicion.
“And where did you get the money and the ruby pin?”
“I don’t know—I mean I don’t know how they got in my room. This lady says she found them there—that’s all I know about them.”
An indifferent shrug of the slim shoulders seemed to imply that was all Miss Mystery cared, either, and Cray asked:
“Then, if the valuables—the pin and the money are not yours, you are, of course, ready to relinquish possession of them.”
“Of course I am not! Since I am accused of stealing them, I propose to retain possession until that accusation is proved or disproved! Perhaps Miss Bascom wishes to take them herself.”
“You know, Miss Austin,” Mr. Cray spoke very gravely, “you are making a mistake in treating this matter flippantly. You are in danger—real danger, and you must be careful what you say. Do you want a lawyer?”
“I don’t know,” the girl suddenly looked helpless. “Do you think I ought to have one?”
“Have you funds?”