“What is the matter?” Grace inquired.
“Well, wouldn’t that get you?” he exclaimed. “I never connected you at all!”
“What do you mean?”
“This fellow Pennington may not be guilty, but I know who is.”
“How do you know? I don’t understand you. Why do you look at me that way?”
“Well, if that isn’t the best ever!” exclaimed the man. “And here you have been handing me a long line of talk about the decent family you came from, and how it would kill them if they knew you sniffed a little coke now and then. Well, wouldn’t that get you? You certainly are a fine one to preach!”
“I don’t understand you,” said the girl. “What has this to do with me? I am not related to Mr. Pennington, but it would make no difference if I were, for I know he never did anything of the sort. The idea of a Pennington bootlegging! Why, they have more money than they need, and always have had.”
“It isn’t Pennington who ought to be in jail,” he said. “It’s your brother.”
She looked at him in surprise, and then she laughed.
“You must have been hitting it up strong to-day, Wilson,” she said.