In the Bishop's Carriage Page 14

  XIV.

  He started as though he couldn't believe his eyes when he saw me. "TheLord hath delivered mine enemy into my hand," shone in his evil littleface.

  "Why, Mr. Tausig," I cried, before he could get his breath. "How odd tomeet you here! Did you find a baby, too?"

  "Did I find--" He glared at me. "I find you; that's enough. Now--"

  "But the luncheon was to be at twelve-thirty," I laughed. "And Ihaven't changed my dress yet."

  "You'll change it all right for something not so becoming if you don'tshell out that paper."

  "Paper?"

  "Yes, paper. Look here, if you give it back to me thisminute--now--I'll not prosecute you for--for--"

  "For the sake of my reputation?" I suggested softly.

  "Yes." He looked doubtfully at me, mistrusting the amiable deferenceof my manner.

  "That would be awfully good of you," I murmured.

  He did not answer, but watched me as though he wasn't sure which wayI'd jump the next moment.

  "I wonder what could induce you to be so forgiving," I went onmusingly. "What sort of paper is this you miss? It must be valuable--"

  "Yes, it's valuable all right. Come on, now! Quit your fooling andget down to business. I'm going to have that paper."

  "Do you know, Mr. Tausig," I said impulsively, "if I were you, andanybody had stolen a valuable paper from me, I'd have him arrested. Iwould. I should not care a rap what the public exposure did to hisreputation, so long--so long," I grinned right up at him, "so long asit didn't hurt me, myself, in the eyes of the law."

  Mad? Oh, he was hopping! A German swear-word burst from him. I don'tknow what it meant, but I can imagine.

  "Look here, I give you one more chance," he squeaked; "if you don't--"

  "What'll you do?"

  I was sure I had him. I was sure, from the very whisper in which hehad spoken, that the last thing in the world he wanted was to have thatagreement made public by my arrest. But I tripped up on one thing. Ididn't know there was a middle way for a man with money.

  His manner changed.

  "Nance Olden," he said aloud now, "I charge you with stealing avaluable private paper of mine from my desk. Here, Sergeant!"

  I hadn't particularly noticed the Sergeant standing at the other doorwith his back to us. But from the way he came at Tausig's call I knewhe'd had a private talk with him, and I knew he'd found the middle way.

  "This girl's taken a paper of mine. I want her searched," Tausig cried.

  "Do you mean," I said, "that you'll sign your name to such a chargeagainst me?"

  He didn't answer. He had pulled the Sergeant down and was whisperingin his ear. I knew what that meant. It meant a special pull and aspecial way of doing things and--

  "You'll do well, my girl, to give up Mr. Tausig's property to him," theSergeant said stiffly.

  "But what have I got that belongs to him?" I demanded.

  He grinned and shrugged his big shoulders.

  "We've a way of finding out, you know, here. Give it up or--"

  "But what does he say I've taken? What charge is there against me?Have you the right to search any woman who walks in here? And what inthe world would I want a paper of Tausig's for?"

  "You won't give it up then?" He tapped a bell.

  A woman came in. I had a bad minute there, but it didn't last; itwasn't the matron I'd brought the baby to.

  "You'll take this girl into the other room and search her thoroughly.The thing we're looking for--" The Sergeant turned to Tausig.

  "A small paper," he said eagerly. "A--a contract--just a single sheetof legal cap paper it was type-written and signed by myself and someother gentlemen, and folded twice."

  The woman looked at me. She was a bit hard-mouthed, with iron-grayhair, but her eyes looked as though they'd seen a lot and learned notto flinch, though they still felt like it. I knew that kind oflook--I'd seen it at the Cruelty.

  "What an unpleasant job this of yours is," I said to her, smiling up ather for all the world as that tike of a baby had smiled at me, andwatching her melt just as I had. "I'll not make it a bit harder. Thisthing's all a mistake. Which way? ... I'll come back, Mr. Tausig, toreceive your apology, but you can hardly expect me to go to lunch afterthis."

  He growled a wrathful, resenting mouthful. But he looked a bit puzzledjust the same.

  He looked more puzzled yet, even bewildered, when we came back into themain office a quarter of an hour later, the woman and I, and shereported that no paper of any kind had she found.

  Me? Oh, I was sweet amiability personified with the woman and with theSergeant, who began to back-water furiously. But with Tausig--

  What? You don't mean to say you're not on, Mag? Oh, dear, dear, it'swell you had that beautiful wig of red hair that puts even Carter's inthe shade; for you'd never have been a success in--in other businessesI might name.

  Bamboozled the woman? Not a bit of it; you can't deceive women withmouths and eyes like that. It was just that I'd had a flash of geniusin the minute I heard Tausig's voice, and in spite of my being so surehe wouldn't have me arrested I'd-- Guess, Mag, guess! There was onlyone way.

  The baby, of course! In the moment I had--it wasn't long--I'd stoopeddown, pretending to kiss that cherub good-by, and in a jiffy I'd pinnedthat precious paper with a safety-pin to the baby's under-petticoat,preferring that risk to--

  Risk! I should say it was. And now it was up to Nance to make good.

  While Tausig insisted and explained and expostulated and at last walkedout with the Sergeant--giving me a queer last look that washalf-cursing, half-placating--I stood chatting sweetly with the womanwho had searched me.

  I didn't know just how far I might go with her. She knew the paperwasn't on me, and I could see she was disposed to believe I was as niceas she'd have liked me to be. But she'd had a lot of experience andshe knew, as most women do even without experience, that if there's notalways fire where there is smoke, it's because somebody's been cleverenough and quick enough to cover the blaze.

  "Well, good-by," I said, putting out my hand. "It's been disagreeablebut I'm obliged to you for--why, where's my purse! We must have leftit--" And I turned to go back into the room where I'd undressed.

  "You didn't have any."

  The words came clear and cold and positive. Her tone was like anicicle down my back.

  "I didn't have any!" I exclaimed. "Why, I certainly--"

  "You certainly had no purse, for I should have seen it and searched itif you had."

  Now, what do you think of a woman like that?

  "Nancy Olden," I said to myself, more in sorrow than in anger, "you'vemet your match right here. When a woman knows a fact and states itwith such quiet conviction, without the least unnecessary emphasis andnot a superfluous word, 'ware that woman. There's only one game toplay to let you hang round here a bit longer and find out what's becomeof the baby. Play it!"

  I looked at her with respect; it was both real and feigned.

  "Of course, you must be right," I said humbly. "I know you wouldn't belikely to make a mistake, but, just to convince me, do you mind lettingme go back to look?"

  "Not at all," she said placidly. "If I go with you there's no reasonwhy you should not look."

  Oh, Mag, it was hard lines looking. Why?--Why, because the place wasso bare and so small. There were so few things to move and it tooksuch a short time, in spite of all I could do and pretend to do, that Iwas in despair.

  "You must be right," I said at length, looking woefully up at her.

  "Yes; I knew I was," she said steadily.

  "I must have lost it."

  "Yes."

  There was no hope there. I turned to go.

  "I'll lend you a nickel to get home, if you'll leave me your address,"she said after a moment.

  Oh, that admirable woman! She ought to be ruling empires instead ofsearching thieves. Look at the balance of her, Mag. My best actinghadn't shaken her. She h
adn't that fatal curiosity to understandmotives that wrecks so many who deal with--we'll call them thetemporarily un-straight. She was satisfied just not to let me getahead of her in the least particular. But she wasn't mean, and shewould lend me a nickel--not an emotionally extravagant ten-cent piece,but just a nickel--on the chance that I was what I seemed to be.

  Oh, I did admire her; but I'd have been more enthusiastic about it if Icould have seen my way clear to the baby and the paper.

  I took the nickel and thanked her, but effusiveness left her unmoved.A wholesome, blue-gowned rock with a neat, full-bibbed white apron;that's what she was!

  And still I lingered. Fancy Nance Olden just heartbroken at beingcompelled to leave a police station!

  But there was nothing for it. Go, I had to. My head was a-whirl withschemes coming forward with suggestions and being dismissed asunsuitable; my thoughts were flying about at such a dizzy rate while Istood there in the doorway, the woman's patient hand on the knob andher watchful eyes on me, that I actually--

  Mag, I actually didn't hear the matron's voice the first time she spoke.

  The second time, though, I turned--so happy I could not keep the tremorout of my voice.

  "I thought you had gone long ago," she said.

  Oh, we were friends, we two! We'd chummed over a baby, which for womenis like what taking a drink together is for men. The admirable dragonin the blue dress didn't waver a bit because her superior spokepleasantly to me. She only watched and listened.

  Which puts you in a difficult position when your name's NanceOlden--you have to tell the truth.

  "I've been detained," I said with dignity, "against my wish. But that'sall over. I'm going now. Good-by." I nodded and caught up my skirt."Oh!" I paused just as the admirable dragon was closing the door onme. "Is the baby asleep? I wonder if I might see her once more."

  My heart was beating like an engine gone mad, in spite of my carelesstone, and there was a buzzing in my ears that deafened me. But Imanaged to stand still and listen, and then to walk off, as though itdidn't matter in the least to me, while her words came smashing thehope out of me.

  "We've sent her with an officer back to the neighborhood where youfound her. He'll find out where she belongs, no doubt. Good day."