“But Mrs. Sanderson’s Willie wasn’t a criminal,” suggested Amy mildly.

“But he was accused of being one and threatened with jail,” retorted Mollie.  “And how do you know that wasn’t just what he needed to start him on the downward path—­”

“Heavens, how melodramatic,” drawled Grace.  “Here, Mollie dear, have a candy and try to cheer up.”

“Then I’d have indigestion and never cheer up,” retorted Mollie crossly.  “Sometimes you make me feel as if I were on a little island completely surrounded by chocolates, Grace, and whenever anything bothered me I’d only have to eat one—­a chocolate, I mean, not the island—­to forget all my troubles.”

“Oh, bliss,” sighed Grace ecstatically.  “If you have discovered any such wonderful island, Mollie darling, lead me to it, and I will spend all the rest of my life worshipping you.”

“When you’re not too busy gobbling the chocolates,” Mollie returned with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Which reminds me,” broke in Betty, shaking off the thoughtful mood that had taken possession of her, “that this is the day of our picnic, and if we don’t get back to the Hostess House pretty soon the boys will be there before we have even made a sandwich.”

“Goodness,” cried Mollie in consternation, “all this talk about criminals put the boys entirely out of my head.”

“I should hope so,” twinkled Betty.  “Our boys are as little apt to remind us of criminals as anybody I know.  But seriously,” she added, a little of the thoughtfulness returning, “I think we’re making a mistake in thinking that Willie Sanderson has become a criminal.  I think there is probably some satisfactory explanation of why he stayed away from home; and perhaps with the help of the people we know we may be able to solve the mystery.  Anyway, I don’t believe that a boy like that and with a mother like this dear old soul could turn out very badly.”

“But suppose he’s dead!” Mollie put in.

“Well, then our days of detectivities will be over as far as he’s concerned,” put in Grace before Betty could reply.  “Here, Mollie, take another chocolate and don’t ask foolish questions.”

“Goodness, I think you’re going to die, Gracie,” said Mollie, looking her friend over anxiously.  “This is the first time since the fateful day of our meeting that I can remember your offering, actually offering, me two chocolates in succession.”

“It isn’t the first time you’ve taken them, though,” suggested Grace dryly.  “It just occurred to me that since you will take them anyway, I might as well get the credit of offering them.”

“Ah, I guessed it, villainness,” cried Mollie darkly.  “I have long suspected that that lovely face hid a soul of venom—­I should say, a venomous soul—­”

The girls chuckled and Grace answered lightly: 

“Well, as long as you admit my beauty I don’t care what you say about the rest.”

“Ah, heartless one—­” Mollie was beginning, when with a laugh Betty hooked an arm through hers and hustled the dramatic one in very undramatic fashion, up the steps into the Hostess House.