“And I’ll tell you how this same lady induced me to put on those foolish togs and hire the friskiest horse at Clayton’s,” further volunteered Shirley.  She evidently thought if that much had been good a lot more would be a lot better.  So she allowed herself to rock a little in Jane’s cozy chair while she told of a bet—­yes, she had actually fallen so low—­she did bet five dollars that she could ride any horse in that stable.  Again the girls applauded—­there was danger now in their generous approval.

“And so I could have done it safely if old Zeezie had kept to the roads.  But she wanted to show off on the hill in front of Warburton Hall,” flared Shirley, “and you all know how I made out at that.”  Howls, groans and wails answered this.

“And what happened to the five?” asked practical Dozia.

“She never had the courage to collect,” replied Shirley, and Jane then felt the obligation of quickly shifting the subject, for just a hint of gloom crossed the country girl’s face at this point.

“But what about this last episode?” asked Jane.  “How do you suppose Zeezie came into Sour Sandy’s clutches?”

“I know how that happened,” spoke up Sally, doing her part to relieve Shirley of the embarrassment that seized her at mention of her accident.  “This so-called actress is really not right mentally.  I know it, but, as Bobbie says, she has lots of money, so of course--”

“Dol Vin snapped her up,” said Judith.

“Yes, and you know the Rumson place?  That old stone mansion right in the heart of the country folks settlement?” (They all knew the Rumson.) “Well, I believe she has been going out there every afternoon to rehearse.  She would drive out in a hired car and dismiss the man.  Then she raved around and did so much loud talking to herself, and even screaming, that the whole neighborhood was up in arms.  I heard the other day the folks around Rumson had called on the police to stop the nuisance.”

“No wonder they would,” agreed Jane.  “The children must have been frightened out of their senses.”

“They were,” went on Sally.  “So I suppose old Sandy just set his trap for her—­”

“And snapped it tonight,” concluded Jane.  “Well, I must say she was a character.  And to think we all missed the open air performance!”

“And to think you and I let her escape from Lenox, Jane, the night of the alarm.”

“What a shame we didn’t know she was making her exit by way of the dummy?”

“But in that awful dark place,” put in Janet with an appropriate shudder.

“Oh, she was just armed to the eyes with flash lights,” Shirley told them.  “I never saw such an outfit as that tragedy queen sported.”

“Oh, woe is us!” cried out Judith, so loudly that a pair of hands, one from Jane, the other from Janet, was clapped over the unruly mouth.  When she promised to speak lower she was allowed to proceed.  “But think of missing the court room scene!  I am sure she went through a Lady Macbeth act and tried to stab poor old Sour Sandy!” Again the spontaneity of Dozia illustrated the talk, and she made a jab at Jane with the latter’s riding crop.