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Bonaventure’s School,” contributed Lieutenant Pruden. “I’ve made half a dozen trips there and gotten nowhere. Let’s see what a clairvoyant can do.”
    She gave him a sharp glance. “I’m not so sure I’m delighted to have met you! What precisely is the problem?”
    “Petty thefts, but they add up and the school has a famous old reputation to preserve. These rings havebeen worn—presumably with pride—every day since January, when they were distributed among the freshman class upon their return from the holidays. You said you picked up—well, vibrations,” he growled. “These rings belong to the students and one of them has to be the thief.”
    “A schoolboy thief,” she mused. “But surely the police are well-equipped to uncover the culprit, and isn’t there a school psychologist?”
    “Yes to both,” he said grimly. “But officially the police aren’t in on it. My superior in the police department graduated from St. Bonaventure’s and they’ve asked his help in avoiding any publicity. We’ve done what we could. We know it’s one of these fourteen boys because the thefts occur only in Beecham Cottage, and always at night, when the dorm is locked securely.
    “As for the school’s psychologist,” he continued, “he’s examined the records of each of these fourteen boys and he can find none of them with any striking emotional problem or pattern that could lead to this sort of thing. The tests essential for admission are pretty thorough—Rorschach, Achievement, etcetera—and since these boys are freshmen the tests were all done within the last year. Running fresh tests on these boys would run into money and consume valuable school time. In the meanwhile the thefts continue—the ninth last night.”
    “What exactly has been stolen?” asked Madame Karitska curiously.
    He handed her a small typed list. “It’s getting to be a very bad business for St. Bonaventure’s, this. The boys write home, the atmosphere’s uneasy, the rumors growing.A number of parents have already called in, inquiring.”
    Madame Karitska was looking at the list.
    Rosary. Belonging to housemother. Antique. Amber. Value $175.
    Baseball glove, $15.
    Ivory cross, value $80.
    Silver cross, value $92.
    Hand-carved Tyrolean cross, about $15.
    Hand-carved chess set, Yugoslavian, $25.
    2 Tennis racquets, $15. and $45.
    Prayer book, antique
    “An interesting list,” said Madame Karitska thoughtfully.
    “A damn puzzling one. After every theft we’ve searched the dormitory—the last three times while the students were still there behind locked doors—and we found only two items.”
    “The tennis racquets,” said Madame Karitska, nodding.
    He gave her a sharp glance. “What made you guess that?”
    “For one thing, they’re the largest items. Have you searched the boys?”
    Pruden shook his head. “This headmaster refuses—so far. I can’t say I blame him. Parents of St. Bonaventure’s boys don’t shell out nearly four thousand dollars a year to see their sons stripped and searched like common criminals. On the other hand I’ve told Father Tuttle he may have to see it done if he wants this cleared up.”
    “And so you bring me the rings,” said Madame Karitska musingly.
    “Yes.” He added wryly, “You know my skepticism. You understand my hopes.”
    She said with humor, “You are moving from disbelief to ambivalence. That is progress, no? I will call you. This will take a day at least.”
    “Right,” he said, and with a sigh left an extremely comfortable chair to return to work.
    Madame Karitska had three appointments that day. One of them surprised even her: she had reason to speak some very tough words to a spoiled, middle-aged woman who not only accepted them with good grace but left behind twenty-five dollars in the basket by the door. Between appointments Madame Karitska accomplished her chores with one or another of the fourteen rings on her fingers. She learned from the rings a great deal about