Rouletta asked herself, over and over, what could be the matter with her; why she felt no twinge, no jealousy; why the sight of that eager, breathless girl with the rapturous face failed to cause her a heartache.  She was amazed at herself.  It could not be that she no longer cared for Pierce, that she had mistaken her feelings toward him.  No, he was what he had always been—­her ideal—­the finest, the most lovable, the dearest creature she had ever met; just the sort of fellow she had always longed to know, the kind any girl would crave for lover, friend, brother.  She felt very tender toward him.  She was not greatly surprised that the nicest girl in Dawson had recognized his charm and had surrendered to it.  Well, he deserved the nicest girl in the world.

Rouletta was startled at the direction her thoughts were taking.  Did she love Pierce Phillips as she had believed she did, or had she merely fallen in love with his good qualities?  Certainly he had never been dearer to her than he was at this moment, and yet—­ Rouletta abandoned the problem of self-analysis and allowed her bubbling relief at the turn events had taken to remain a mystery for the time being.

The door to the commandant’s office opened without warning.  Pierce stood framed in it.  His head was up, his shoulders were back, his countenance was alight; with confident tread he entered the big room and crossed it directly to the girl who stood waiting beside the table.  He held out his two hands to her and with a flash of her clear blue eyes she placed hers in his.  Gladness, trust, blind faith, and adoration were in her face.  She murmured something which Rouletta did not hear, for at that instant Colonel Cavendish appeared with the curt announcement: 

“That is all, ladies.  You needn’t remain longer.”

Blindly, confusedly, Rouletta rose and fumbled with her wraps.  She saw the colonel go to Laure and speak with her in a stiff, formal way.  She saw Pierce and Josephine turn away hand in hand, their heads close together—­he had not even glanced in her direction; then Cavendish was speaking to her directly.

At first she did not understand him, but finally made out that he was telling her that everything had been cleared up, including even the mystery of Count Courteau’s gold-sack.

“Laure confessed that she got a duplicate key to the cashier’s cage,” she heard the colonel say.  “Got it from Pierce.  It was she who put the evidence in there during the confusion.  Pretty ingenious, I call it, and pretty spiteful.”

“Did she—­have anything to say about the—­the murder?” Rouletta inquired.

“No.  But the Countess has that figured out right, I’m sure.  We’ll have the proof when Rock brings back his prisoners.”

As Rouletta moved toward the door Pierce stopped her.  There was a ring in his voice as he said: 

“Rouletta, I want you to meet Miss Cavendish.  I want the two nicest girls in the world to know each other.  Josephine, this is Miss Kirby, of whom I’ve said so much.”  Then without reason he laughed joyously, and so did the colonel’s daughter.