“What?” cried Molly, thunderstruck.
“There was no other way. He saw us burying the slipper and I suppose he thought it his duty to inform on us.”
“He didn’t feel it his duty to inform on Judith Blount when she cut the electric wires that night,” broke in Molly.
“Perhaps he didn’t think that was as wrong as rowing on the lake with boys from Exmoor. Besides, she was his relative.”
Molly took off her slipper and held it up as if she were going to pitch it with all her force across the room. Then she dropped it gently on the floor.
“I’m disappointed,” she said.
CHAPTER XI.
A SWOPPING PARTY AND A MOCK TRIAL.
There was never any tedious convalescing for Judy; no tiresome transition from illness to health. As soon as she determined in her mind that she was well, she arose from her bed and walked, and neither friendly remonstrances nor doctor’s orders could induce her to return.