There is where she made a mistake, but it happened that it wasn’t a fatal one.
Bear in mind that she gave her hand away and told all she knew, and in that telling there was enough to convict her half a dozen times over. But she was game to the last ditch.
“I’m very sorry,” remarked her supposed confederate to her one evening, “but I’ll have to arrest you. I’m an officer, you know.”
“I always ought to be guided by my first impressions,” she retorted. “I had an idea you were wrong when I first met you and if I had stuck to that you would have known nothing.”
“That’s right; but as it is I’ll have to take you down to headquarters.”
He acted as if it was a job he didn’t relish very much, and if the truth were told he would have let her make a getaway of it if he had dared.
In the prison she was popular as soon as she stepped inside the gates, and there was no one who would believe that a girl with a face like that would be guilty of harming anyone, much less being a confirmed and expert forger.
So the trial was called.
She treated it as a joke, and was by far the most composed person in the room. Her partner, to his credit, swore that he was the one who had done all of the robbing of the mail boxes, and all of the forging of checks, and he even went so far as to imitate several signatures, but that was offset by the evidence of the detective.
It was an easy matter to convict him, and he stood facing a term in prison.