“Positively,” she answered.  “Because, after you went off, she was out here with me for quite a long time.  Then I was called inside, and I’m quite sure no one from the house saw her at all after that until I found her crying.  She’d been outside on the porch all the time—­”

“Aha!” cried Jamieson, then.  “If no one in the house here talked to her, someone from outside must have done it.  Listen, Bessie.  She wouldn’t go off that way just from brooding, would she, just from thinking about things?”

“No, I’m quite sure she wouldn’t, Mr. Jamieson.  She’s felt bad two or three times since we left Hedgeville, when she got to thinking about her father’s troubles, and everything of that sort.  But she’s always told me about it and it hasn’t made her feel just as she seems to now, anyhow.”

“Well, then, can’t you see?  No one here said anything to her, so it must have been someone who isn’t in the house—­someone who spoke to her after you left her out here alone, Eleanor.  And I know who it was, too!”

“That nasty looking man you pointed out to me as we were coming along with Mr. Norris?” cried Bessie.

“Yes, indeed—­Brack!” said Jamieson.  “He’s just the one who would do it, too!  Oh, I tell you, one has to look out for him!  He’s as mean as a man could be and still live, I guess.  I’ve heard of more harsh, miserable things he’s done than I could tell you in a week.  Whenever he’s around it’s a warning to look out for trouble.  Suppose you go up to her, Bessie, and see if mentioning his name will loosen her tongue.”

But just as she was entering the house Zara, with only her reddened eyes to show that she had been crying at all, came out on the porch.

“I’m ever so ashamed of myself, Miss Eleanor,” she said, smiling pluckily.  “I suppose you think I’m an awful cry-baby, but I was just feeling bad about my father and everything, and I couldn’t seem to help it.”

Bessie looked at Zara in astonishment.  To the eyes of those who didn’t know her as well as Bessie, Zara might seem to be all right, but Bessie could see that her chum was still frightened and weak.  She wondered why Zara was acting, for acting she was.  She meant that Miss Mercer and everyone should think that her fit of depression had been only temporary, and that now everything was all right.  And Bessie, loyal as ever, decided to help her.

But when Charlie Jamieson took his leave again to go back to his office and his interrupted work, he looked at her keenly and when he started to go he took Bessie by the hand playfully and pulled her off the porch, and out of sight of the others.

“Listen,” he said, earnestly, “there’s something more than we know about or can guess very easily the matter with your friend, Bessie.  She’s been frightened—­badly frightened.  And it’s dollars to doughnuts that it’s that scoundrel Brack who’s frightened her, too.  Keep your eyes on her—­see that she doesn’t get a chance to speak to him or anyone else alone.”