“Yes.” In a few words the spinster told the story of her loss of thirteen hundred and fifty dollars, and of the two girls’ offer of assistance in discovering the thief. “Of course, I suspected Elsie immediately,” she said, “but it seems I made a mistake. Or partly a mistake, for there is still five hundred missing—all in gold. But these girls found out who took the bills and have got them all back for me—all but fifty dollars.”
“Who was the thief?” demanded Mrs. Grant excitedly.
“Your son Harry! I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Grace.”
“I don’t believe it!” protested the other woman. “What proof have you, Mattie?”
“Tell the story, Jane,” said Miss Grant. “I’m too tired.” She leaned against the back of her chair in exhaustion.
Briefly Jane related the incidents of the previous evening, describing their perilous ride in Harry Grant’s car. The story rang true; Jane repeated the very words the young man had uttered as he drove away, words which Mrs. Grant recalled easily. Before she had finished, the unhappy mother was crying softly.
“What are you going to do to him, Mattie?” she asked finally. “Have him arrested?”
“That depends on him,” replied her visitor. “If he gives me back the other bill, maybe I’ll let him go. I don’t want to drag the Grant name into the papers if I can help it.... Is he home?”
“Yes. He’s upstairs, dressing.”
“Just getting up, eh?”