it was half an hour later when Polly reappeared and beckoned Rosalind to a corner of the porch.
"He's—he's not Billy Kellogg!" whispered Polly triumphantly.
Rosalind regarded her with a minute of patience and pity.
"Is that all you learned?" she asked.
"He admitted it!"
"Of course he did. What of that? You knew it, anyhow, didn't you?"
"Ye-es—but he confessed."
"And what else did he confess?"
"Nothing."
An exasperated gasp was Rosalind's only comment.