CHAPTER II.
A WOMAN REPORTER.
Five minutes later there was another tap on Marion’s door. She opened it at once without the slightest hesitation.
“Oh, it is you, Miss Allyn. Come in,” she said pleasantly. “We are just packing up, but, as you see, it will not take us long. Do sit down, and Dollie and I will be through in a minute.”
The young lady who had entered was a woman of striking appearance. She was about twenty-five, of medium height, but not at all handsome. The attractive feature about her was the shrewdness in her eyes, which were as keen as an eagle’s, and yet perfectly frank and fearless.
“I heard that old termagant talking to you just now,” she said, bluntly, “and I came to pat you on the shoulder, Miss Miller. Don’t you budge an inch until she gives you back your money.”
“I wouldn’t if it wasn’t for Dollie,” said Marion, sighing. “I can’t permit Dollie to be insulted, and if you overheard the conversation you know who we are, Miss Allyn.”
“I’ve known it ever since you came here,” said Miss Allyn, pleasantly, “and I’ve been hoping that she wouldn’t get on to it.”
“You knew and yet you did not tell?” cried both Dollie and Marion together.
“What do you take me for?” was the answer, with a shrug of the shoulders. “Don’t you think I know enough to mind my business, and, besides, is there anything about me that looks like a snake?”