“There isn’t any justice!” Ricky said savagely as she went up the Golden Stairs with Gale and entered the latter’s room. “Why did such a thing have to happen to Phyl? Who——” she stopped in amazement and looked about the room. “What’s happened?”
The room was topsy turvy. Bureau drawers were pulled out and the things tumbled about. The desks had been thoroughly searched. Even the closet door stood open and the girls could see the tumult within.
Gale smiled. “Someone was hunting for that note, I’ll wager.”
Ricky had been taken into the girls’ confidence. Now she stared wide-eyed at Gale. “Did they find it do you suppose?”
“Hardly!” Gale pulled the note from her coat pocket. “Since I know someone else would like to have it, I keep it with me.”
“Have you discovered the typewriter that wrote it?”
“No. The girls are still hunting,” Gale laughed. “Every time they see a typewriter they run for it.”
Ricky and Gale set things to rights and then Ricky departed to find Gloria. Gale went downstairs and over to the dormitory house to tell Valerie and the others about Phyllis. They might as well all know now.
She was still puzzling over Phyllis’ Aunt’s words. A promise? To whom? No promise was important enough to stop her aiding Phyllis now!
Miss Fields had been a mystery to the girls in Marchton ever since they knew her. They had always looked with awe upon the grey silent house and the woman who lived there. Through Phyllis they had glimpsed the life of Miss Fields—cold, always calm. Gale reminded herself that she had really been prepared for this. She had not thought in the very beginning that Miss Fields would have the money. Yet she had hoped against hope for Phyllis’ sake. Now there was nothing to be done.