They had ridden through New City, and were back again in Chelton.  Ida had asked to be let out at the post-office, and as Cora—­drew up in front of it for her to alight, Ida extended her hand, and the two girls looked into each other’s eyes, each trying to read her neighbor’s thoughts.

“Coca, you can help me, and I will soon ask you to do so,” said Ida almost in a whisper; “but now—­I cannot tell you now,” and she hurried out of the car.

CHAPTER XXIII

THE MYSTERY SOLVED

Ida Giles had always been unpopular, and the kindness shown her by Cora Kimball, following opt the timely rescue of her from Lem Gildy, came to the unhappy girl like a revelation.

For the first time in her dissatisfied life Ida determined to do what her better nature prompted her to do, even at the risk of getting into trouble.  She determined to clear up the mystery that had been hanging so heavily over the heads of Cora and her friends.

“I—­I don’t care what Sid thinks—­or says,” murmured Ida, “I’m done with him forever.”

She hurried to a select bowling alley, where she was pretty sure she would find Sid.  Within the little office in front one might buy confections or ice cream, and at the same time be able to look in on the alleys, where athletic young men were banging away at the pins.  Ida sent in word by the clerk, and Sid came out at once when he heard who wished to speak to him.  Ida was struck at his appearance.  He looked thin and worn, but, more than that, worried.

“Sid,” she began bravely, “you must come with me at once.  I will aid you all I can, but we must go right over to the Kimballs’, explain everything, and set matters right.”

“What!” exclaimed the youth in an anxious whisper.  “You mean confess?”

“Yes, that’s just it.”

“But—­but—­er—­I—­”

“I’ve promised to help you,”, she said slowly.  They were talking outside now, for the clerk had come back and was behind the showcase.  “You must come, Sid, and tell everything.  I will do my part.  Besides, there is really nothing to confess, you know.  You really didn’t steal the money, but you must tell them—­tell Ed, Cora and all—­what you did with it—­and about the empty wallet.”

“Oh, Ida, I never could do that!”

Sid’s bravery—­his gay, sneering, bold manner—­were all gone.  He was a craven—­weak.  “You’ll have to tell them,” he added.  “I’m going—­going away.”

“That’s just like you!” exclaimed Ida.  “Leave me to shoulder all the shame.  No, Sid Wilcox!  I’ve risked enough for you!  I’m done!  If you don’t go to the Kimballs’ this very afternoon and tell everything, I shall go to the police and relate to them all that I know about the missing money, the bonds and the wallet.  The detectives will be glad enough to get the reward.”

Sid was really afraid now.  His face was pale, and his voice shook as he answered: