“I have noted of late that Belle Wiley and Anne Petersen are often with Kathryn Von Wellering, and I have regretted it, especially in the case of Belle, who is a dear little girl, and I cannot but deplore the influence of Kathryn, whose mother thinks of nothing but society and whose father, I fear, enriches himself at the expense of the poor. I have been told that he is a conscienceless Wall Street broker. I regret that I accepted Kathryn as a pupil, and if it seems best, Miss Torrence, for the good of the other girls, I will write her mother asking her to send for her daughter.”
Then rising, Mrs. Martin stood for a thoughtful moment gazing out at the snow-covered world. At last, turning toward the waiting teacher, she said: “Kathryn, Anne and Belle are all in your 9 o’clock class, are they not?”
“Yes, Mrs. Martin. That is, they should be. If they are not there this morning, shall I send Virginia in to tell you?”
“Yes, if you will,” the principal replied. “If she does not come almost at once, I will know that those three girls are to be with you for one hour.” Then she added: “Do not permit them to leave the class during that period, Miss Torrence. I shall send for Miss Buell, and ask her to thoroughly search the rooms occupied by those three pupils.”
The young teacher took her departure and five moments later, as Virginia had not appeared, Mrs. Martin rang for the member of her faculty who had charge of the rooms and the corridors. Popularly she was known among the girls as “Miss Snoopins.”
“Miss Buell,” Mrs. Martin had drawn her within the office and closed the door, “I want you, with all speed, to search first Kathryn Von Wellering’s room, then Anne Petersen’s, and if you have not found a package of manuscripts in either, you may look in Belle Wiley’s room. I can trust you to be speedy and discreet.”
Miss Buell sniffed. “Well, I certainly hope I’ll find whatever evidence it is you want in that disagreeable Von Wellering girl’s room. She treats folks as if they weren’t human, but that little Belle Wiley, why, Mrs. Martin, she’s a sweet, innocent little lamb. She never tries to hide things or play tricks on me the way the others do, or at least some of them.”
Mrs. Martin, knowing that Miss Buell’s weakness was loquacity, dismissed her, and then sat down at her desk, supposedly to attend to business matters, but she found her thoughts often wandering. She was indeed more troubled because of what had happened than either Miss Torrence or Miss Buell realized. “She who steals a composition will steal anything else she desires. It is the act, and not the article, which proclaims one a thief.”
Not more than fifteen minutes had passed when the principal heard footsteps descending the stairs, and so rapidly, though quietly, did they approach her door, that she believed, and correctly that Miss Snoopins had been successful in her search.
Mrs. Martin had the door open before Miss Buell could rap. That thin angular woman entered, her eyes fairly glittering with the joy of having accomplished her errand.