to match, a most disreputable looking piece of lead-pencil
But no twist of tissue paper with the locket in it!
"What is the matter?" repeated Bobby, frightened by the expression of the other girl's face.
"I—IOh, Bobby! It's gone!" wailed Betty.
"Not your locket?"
"Yes, my locket!" sobbed Betty, and she sat down on the floor and wept.
"Why, it can't be! Who would take it? When did you see it last? Nobody here in the house would have stolen it, Betty."
"It—it must have dropped out of my bag. Oh! what shall I do? I can't tell Uncle Dick."
"He won't punish you for losing it, will he?"
"But think how he'll feel! And how I'll feel!" wailed Betty. "He advised me to put it somewhere for safe keeping until I got my chain. And I wouldn't. I—I wanted it with me."
"You should have put it downstairs in daddy's safe," said Bobby thoughtfully.
"But that doesn't do me a bit of good now," sobbed Betty Gordon.
"Don't you remember where you had it last?" asked her friend slowly.
"In my bag, of course. And I carried my bag to town to-day. Yes! I remember seeing the
