Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1917-07-29

what can do. TIL be back in q min
ute" She ran toward the door. and, as
It happened. straight into Brent, who
entered at the moment. He had caught
hold Of her arms Just above the elbow
before he saw Mr.. Pollock. who was
glowering at him from the hearth rug,
His fingers gave q swift, reassuring
pressure before he dropped his hands.
He looked from Pollock to Molly.
"Awfully sorry II I'm disturbing
you." he said. We've run out Of chalk
In the billiard room and Mrs. Sander
son said 1 should ind some in the
drawer here"
Don't run away" said Molly in a
you. I'll be back in a minute" ana she
ran out of the room. Molly went swift
ly through the deserted hall. past the
silent piano. and up the stairs. When
she reached Mrs. Lees door her cour-
age slackened somewhat.
Never in all her life had Molly done
any OF the petty. dishonorable actions
many schoolgirls indulge in. Now, just
because Mrs. Lee was suspected OF
being a spy. she in her turn was going
a far lesser degree, what Brent had
been feeling alone in his room that
evening before dinner. Then the
thought of Chris came surging back at
her and she gently turned the handle
of the door.
The room was In darkness: she
switched on the light and entered.
shutting the door behind her. Her
heart was beating violently. She knew
that Mrs. Lee had been playing smoker
since dinner with Chris. and now that
he was in the sitting room with her
father. Mrs. Lee might come upstairs
for any woman's reason, Just such a
little thing as wishing to powder her
nose. And then what could Molly say
at being caught in her room? Never
holo Siaf ri
eurvey. an attempt to try to nee some
thing which would be a clue to Mrs.
Lees personality.
AS a matter Of fact. remarkably few
the conventional white painted. chintz-
hung apartment. Over the cleaning
brass rail at the foot of the bed won
derful dressing gown had been thrown,
a barbaric thing of strong reds and
blues with gold thread shimmering
gown from Molly's own little white
wrapper bordered with swans down.
The luggage showed signs of hard
wear: the dressing table set was of
tortoise shell with gold inlaid mono
gram. Molly considered it rather BIZ
Zarre.
Beside the mirror lay the handker-
chief sachet she had noticed before din
ner. Molly slipped her fingers in. but
they met only handkerchiefs. Explor-
lining and this time pulled out the
folded sheet of tracing paper. A glance
at it. though of course she could not
understand its import. told her that 1t
in her own dress, Molly turned out the
light. opened the door a little way. lis
tened and crept out.
She felt a different being as she went
down the stairs again. Could this be
she, the Molly who had thought life
al Pun nd ha nd
This Molly spied and stole. and all with
a certain feeling Of herceness at the
back of her mind which she only re-
membered having experienced once be-
tiny girl. her father had threatened
to have her dog destroyed because he
bit the postman. Molly had fought then
for her dog, had raised every argument
against the postman and for her be-
loved Micky. and she had won. Now
she was fighting for something far
more vital. And just as she would not
have minded II the postman had put
stop to the controversy by conveniently
falling down dead. SO now she did not
Lee IL she could only save Chris
As she reached the sitting room door
she heard Mr.. Pollock's voice booming
even more loudly than usual. and
had lost his temper. His attempt at
diplomacy must have failed him, and,
anxious lest he had worked Chris into
one Of his obstinate moods. Molly broke
in on them.
Silence fell as Molly entered. and she
looked from one to the other Of the
two men.
"Oh, father. what have you been say
ing to Chris" she asked. II asked you
to leave it to me. didn't To-
II have been merely-with the great
est tact and diplomacy-askfng a few
questions that have a perfect right to
ask. I have been giving Mr.. Brent an