For the first time in her dissatisfied life Ida determined to do what her better nature prompted her to do, even at the risk of getting into trouble. She determined to clear up the mystery that had been hanging so heavily over the heads of Cora and her friends.
"I—I don't care what Sid thinks—or says," murmured Ida, "I'm done with him forever."
She hurried to a select bowling alley, where she was pretty sure she would find Sid. Within the little office in front one might buy confections or ice cream, and at the same time be able to look in on the alleys, where athletic young men were banging away at the pins. Ida sent in word by the clerk, and Sid came out at once when he heard who wished to speak to him. Ida was struck at his appearance. He looked thin and worn, but, more than that, worried.
"Sid," she began bravely, "you must come with me at once. I will aid you all I can, but we must go right over to the Kimballs', explain everything, and set matters right."
"What!" exclaimed the youth in an anxious whisper. "You mean confess?"
"Yes, that's just it."
"But—but—er—I—"
"I've promised to help you,", she said slowly. They were talking outside now, for the clerk had come back and was behind the showcase. "You must come, Sid, and tell everything. I will do my part. Besides, there is really nothing to confess, you know. You really didn't steal the money, but you must tell them—tell Ed, Cora and all—what you did with it—and about the empty wallet."
"Oh, Ida, I never could do that!"
Sid's bravery—his gay, sneering, bold manner—were all gone. He was a craven—weak. "You'll have to tell them," he added. "I'm going—going away."