“Because it’s been stolen!”
“Stolen!”
“Yes. Listen. I feel dreadfully about it. You know it was a gift from my grandmother. She is a dear, old-fashioned lady, and she has lots of lovely old-fashioned jewelry. She always said she disliked the present styles, and when she gave me that pin she made me promise to wear it, and never be ashamed of it, even if it was a century old.
“Of course I promised, for the pin was a beauty. And grandmother always said that if I took good care of it, and wore it whenever I went out, she would leave me her lovely string of pearls. Of course I would have worn the pin without that. And now it’s been taken!”
“Taken! By someone here at college?”
“Hush, not so loud! I gave it to a jeweler, a Mr. Farson, in Haddonfield, to repair the clasp, and I just got word from him to-day that it was taken. So I had to buy another pin to fasten my collar with, and I’m so afraid Phil will notice it; or that grandmother may hear about it! She’ll say I’m careless.”
“Did Farson have your brooch?” cried Tom.
“Yes. Why?”
“And did he tell you how it was taken?”
“Well, he said it was taken with a lot of other things that he had collected from his customers to repair. He offered to get me another, but of course I never can get one like that.”