"Molly," began Wise, "we've found that some one has been--prowling round in here, just as you said,--and you are to tell us who it was."

"That I don't know, sir," the girl replied, speaking with a flippancy that was careless and almost impertinent.

"Then tell us all you do know. Was it a man or a woman?"

"A woman, sir."

"Why, Molly!" Zizi cried, "you told me it was a man, and that he was up to no good. Those were your very words."

"Oh, no, you don't remember correctly. I said it was a woman."

"That is an untruth," Zizi stated, calmly. "So, now we know you are telling us falsehoods, we must find out why. Has some one paid you for it? We will pay you more for the truth. Might as well, Penny. This girl only sells her statements, true or false."

"All right, Molly. But we only want to buy the true ones. Now, what'll you take for all you really know about the matter, and guarantee to be the strict truth?"

"I don't want any pay. And the truth is that the person I saw was a lady--I mean a woman."

"Care to mention names?"

"I don't know who it was. I just saw a veiled figure----"

"Cut out the veiled figure!" cried Zizi. "You're making it up. There never was any veiled figure,--you saw a man hunting around here, while you were hidden in the bathroom. You know he was looking for something of value hidden in these rooms. And----" Zizi's black eyes fairly seemed to bore into Molly's own as she went on, "you know he got it. Also, you know who the man was,--and you won't tell, and you say it was a woman, because--because what, Molly?"

"I don't--I mean----" Molly blushed scarlet and dropped her eyes; then, with a revived bravado she cried, "It _was_ a woman,--I tell you it was a woman!"

"Stop lying!" said Zizi sternly, "she's doing that, Pen, because the man she saw has ordered her to."

"No, he hasn't," Molly declared, but Zizi said:

"Yes, he has, and what's more, he has bribed you by----"

Zizi's penetrating glance overcame Molly's boldness and she trembled in silence as Zizi said, "by marriage!"

Even Wise looked up in amazement; "What _do_ you mean, Zizi?"

"Just what I say. Molly is wearing a very bright, new wedding ring. She didn't have it yesterday. Molly knows the truth we're looking for, and she won't tell because it implicates a man who has married her to keep her quiet! Is it Bob Moore, Molly."

"Yes, ma'am," said the girl, in a low tone, and with a very apparent look of relief.

"Then it isn't," said Zizi triumphantly; "I know by the way you speak!

Who is it?"

"It isn't anybody," Molly said, but she said it with a furtive glance at their faces in turn; with a hesitating air of uncertainty as to what course to take; with a futile attempt at her old impudent manner. "I'm not really married; lots of us girls wear a wedding ring to fool people."

"Rubbish!" said Zizi, contemptuously. "There's no sense in that! You are married,--or, you think you are--aha, I thought so!"

For Molly's scared glance betokened that Zizi had struck on the truth.

Quite evidently she was apprehensive lest the aspersion should prove a correct one. "He married you in an extremity of fear,--fear that you would tell of his visit to the room,--now, who could it be, Penny? It's easy enough to judge if we guess right,--but I can't think of any one.

It must be some employe of the house,--or----"

"Or some tool of some of the bakery people," said Wise.

"Look higher," jeered Molly, her self-confidence returning, as she realized their uncertainty.

"Good heavens!" cried Zizi, "you can't mean Richard Bates!"

"Yep," said Molly, and her eyes danced with a wicked glee.

"Oh, incredible!" wailed Zizi. "Yet I've been afraid of him all along.

You see, he's shielding his aunt. I'm sure Miss Prall is----"

"You said you didn't believe her guilty," spoke up Wise.

"I know I did, but what other way can we turn? It can't be any less important person who married Molly to shut her up. There can't be any reason that would make Bates do so, but to shield his aunt from suspicion. Molly says now it was a woman searching the room,--of course, she didn't want the recipe,--that's a side issue; she wanted some letters or something in connection with the breach of promise----"

"Come, come, Zizi, you can't take that little yellow-topped widow's yarn of a breach of promise too seriously----"

"Why not? She is innocent herself, I know. She suspects Miss Prall, I know. She gave a perfectly good motive,--why, Pen, if women killed that man where's another motive that can hold a candle to the 'woman scorned'

idea? Come, Molly, own up; was it Miss Prall searching the room?"

"Oh, no, miss!" and Molly's eyes bulged with such real surprise that there was no doubting her sincerity this time.

"But how could you tell, if the figure was a veiled one?" asked Wise.

"Oh, I could tell it wasn't Miss Prall,--gracious, no!"

"What was the--the person looking for,--I mean where was the search made?"

"All around."

"In the desk?"

"Yes, and in the table drawers and the cupboards,--and--and--everywhere." Molly waved a vague hand about the room.

"And behind the mirror?" Wise sprang this at her suddenly.

The girl's face blanched. "How--what made you think of that?" she gasped, her voice quaking with fear.

"Ah, that brings back the picture, does it? You saw the--the person, hunting about; you saw him go to the mirror, gaze at it thoughtfully, then unscrew it, and then--then he succeeded in his search? Eh?"

"Yes," Molly breathed, fairly hypnotized into the truth by Wise's suggestive air and tense, compelling voice.

CHAPTER XVIII

Fitted to a T