The living-room was now the dressing-room of Muriel and her mother, and the make-up scattered over the centertable was undisturbed; the wardrobe of the two women had apparently been left untouched.

Yet she was sure that some one had been prowling in there in the night.

She gave up the puzzle at last and went back to her breakfast, but before the company arrived in the big, black automobile, she had found a stout hasp and two staples, and had fixed the door which led from her room into the kitchen so that she could fasten it securely on the inside.
Jean did not tell Lite about the footsteps.

She was afraid that he might insist upon her giving up staying at the Lazy A.

Lite did not approve of it, anyway, and it would take very little encouragement in the way of extra risk to make him stubborn about it.