I will show you. Why should I steal what I can buy?"
To Nan Sherwood this question seemed unanswerable. But the store
detective scarcely noticed. He looked at the lovely woman and asked:
"Madam is _sure_ this girl took the lavalliere?"
"Oh, mercy, no! I would not accuse anybody of such a thing," responded
the woman, in her low voice.
"But we know who you are, madam, we do not know this girl," said the
detective, doubtfully. "You are a customer whom the store is glad to
serve. This girl is quite unknown to us. I have no doubt but she is
guilty--as you say."
He shook the troubled Nan by the arm. The girl was trying to control
herself--to keep from breaking down and crying. Somehow, she felt that
_that_ would not help her in the least.
Without warning, a low voice spoke at Nan's side: "I know this girl. Of
what is she accused?"
Only a few beside the detective and Nan heard the words.
"Of stealing something from the counter," said the man.
"I should not be surprised." The girl who had spoken, still whispered to
the detective. "I know who she is. Her father is already in trouble on a
similar charge. This girl tried to take a hand-bag of mine once. I never
_did_ think she was any better than she should be."
It was Linda Riggs. She stood with flushed face, looking at Nan, and
although but few customers heard what she said, the latter felt as though
she should sink through the floor.
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