some kind of a lawyer, or (Mabel turned pale at the thought) a policeman disguised as a—a human being? Do you suppose the Milligans are going to get us arrested for just two apples—and—and a little poetry?"
"More likely," suggested Jean, "he's a burglar. Didn't you notice the way he looked around at everything? I could see that he sort of lost interest after while—as if he had concluded that we hadn't anything worth stealing."
"Nonsense!" said Bettie. "I don't know what he does for a living, but he can't be a burglar. He hasn't lived here very long, but he goes to our church and comes to our house sometimes to vestry meetings. Sometimes on warm Sunday's when there's nobody else to do it, he passes the plate."
"Well," said Mabel, "I hope he isn't a policeman weekdays."
"More likely," said Marjory, "he does reporting for the papers. The time Aunty
