She opened her eyes wide and veiled them with a look of innocence, of not knowing what all the excitement was about.

“What do you want to ask me? If I saw that girl faint?”

A detective started to speak, but O’Brien beat him to it.

“Now, Miss Gordon,” he said. “We have a record that you made a sale to this young lady. What did you sell her?”

“A ten cent bottle of perfume. Ain’t it on the slip?”

“Yes. But are you sure you sold her nothing else?”

Babe frowned.

“What are you doin’? Tryin’ to accuse me of gyppin’?”

“Not at all. We have here a rouge compact that we thought she might have obtained in this store.”

“Well, she didn’t get it from my counter.”

One of the detectives leaned forward.

“Do you know what’s in that compact?”

“Sure,” said Babe. “Rouge!”

The detective looked disappointed at her reply. O’Brien smiled covertly. She was a quick one, he thought.

The detective turned to O’Brien.

“We got a tip-off that this here Miss Babe Gordon was peddlin’ dope in this store.”

“Well, where is the person who accuses this girl?” O’Brien inquired. “That’s a pretty serious charge and you should have something to back it up.”

“I’ve got men out there makin’ a thorough search,” the detective said. “And we haven’t looked in this girl’s pocket-book yet.”

Babe offered to produce her pocket-book from her locker. The detective accompanied her to the locker room, she took out her purse, and both returned to the office.

“There it is,” said Babe, handing him the purse. “Look all you want.”

So it was Jenny who had squealed!

The detective in the derby took the bag and went through it carefully, even feeling the lining. He examined a roll of bills. There was fifty dollars in it.

“Lot of money,” he said, “for a girl workin’ In a store like this to have at one time.”

“I been savin’ that up for weeks to get a new dress.”

The office door opened and a plain-clothes man came in.

“Nothin’ doin’ outside, Chief,” he said.

The detective grunted, and pointed at the society girl. “Take her to Headquarters. Maybe she’ll talk there, when she finds out the stretch she’s facin’.”

“I’ve told you all I’m going to tell you,” said the girl, listlessly, “which is nothing.”

She was resolved that they never would get a word out of her. Her family would have to know of her arrest, but they were influential and would employ every means possible to shield and protect her. Besides she knew that her system long inured to drugs would start its old craving again, and then she would have to depend on Babe and her associates. She didn’t dare inform the police.

“Couldn’t get nothin’ out of her chauffeur either,” said the plain-clothes.