“I didn’t mean to say that,” returned Sallie, quickly. “What I mean is just this. I have no money and everybody knows it. Very well, then. I’m the very person that would steal money. And jewelry. I—or poor old Abbie.”
“But you wouldn’t,” soothed Jean.
“But—but some folks think I would. Now, a real paying pupil would get mad and go home if Mrs. Rhodes searched her bureau drawers, wouldn’t she?”
“I should say so,” agreed Jean.
“Well, Mrs. Rhodes and Mrs. Henry Rhodes searched mine and Abbie’s.”
“But they didn’t find anything,” comforted Bettie, “so you don’t need to care.”
“But they did. There was a pocketbook under the pin cushion. Mrs. Drayton’s calling cards were in it. She lost hers here the other night, you know—and that wasn’t the worst. There was money in it—more than two dollars.”
“Were you right in the room all the time?” queried horrified Bettie.
“No, I happened to go upstairs quietly and there they were looking in all our bureau drawers and under our mattresses and even in the pockets of our clothes. They had already found the purse.”
“Was Abbie there?”