"If I'd got a Key," she said to herself, mindful of Dorothy's words, "I should get the silly old thing done in a minute—I wonder—" here a sudden temptation came into her heart—"if there is one anywhere on the shelf."
As it chanced there was one, and no sooner did Gertie spy the book, than she prepared to make use of it.
"You are doing wrong," said the voice of Conscience, as loudly and clearly as ever it could speak.
"But my head aches so badly, I simply can't bother over it any longer," pleaded Gertie excusingly.
But Conscience was not to be quieted thus. Indeed, so stirring was its voice that, for a while, Gertie wavered, but it was only for a while. A few minutes later, by the aid of the Key, the wrong figures were erased, and the right ones put in their stead. Just as this was done, the little girl heard footsteps in the next room.
"What shall I do with the book?" she said to herself, for there was absolutely no time to replace it on the shelf where she had found it.
Opening the first desk that came handy, she thrust the Key inside, not knowing or caring, in her agitation, to whom the desk belonged.
In the afternoon the book was discovered to be missing, and Miss Merton, having reason to suspect that Dorothy Grey was not quite open with her school work, determined to find out whether the Key was in her possession.
For this purpose she bade the girls turn out their desks for her inspection. Ella, all unsuspectingly, cleared out her various belongings, with never a thought of coming trouble in her mind.
Suddenly her eyes alighted on a brown-covered book, which she knew had no right to be there. It was the Arithmetic Key. Miss Merton's sharp eyes had caught sight of it too.