s THE DAUK By the same author THE SHADOW MEN A ROMANCE OF "BIG BUSINESS" IN THE DARK BY DONALD RICHBERG Author of " The Shadow Men " CHICAGO FORBES & COMPANY 1912 COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY FORBES AND COMPANY CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I THE NIGHT SHE CAME 11 II How SHE CAME 22 III WHENCE SHE CAME 34 IV THE NEXT DAY 52 V ON THE STAIRS 86 VI ENTER, THE FAMILY 93 VII A FOOTBALL GAME 107 VIII SISTER EDITH'S AFFAIR 122 IX THE FAMILY RESCUE LEAGUE 133 X THE PLEASURES OF MEDDLING 153 XI GWENN 166 XII THE DANCE HALL 196 XIII A DINNER OF REBUKE 221 XIV MELODRAMA AT WINKLER'S 238 XV DISGRACING THE FAMILY 251 XVI A BUSY MORNING 272 XVII THE FILIBUSTER 288 XVIII GWENN EXPLAINS . 296 INTO each man's life, with its dull, drab days and long gray years, may come a few scarlet hours . . . wayside hazards of adventurous living or one glowing epoch when man and maid stake all on the splendid risk of love. Into my humdrum life there came a woman, fleeing from a dubious past, and for a time my days teemed with venture and romance, that brought into the gloomy streets of a fog-hung city a radiance of the joy of living that for me clings to them still. IN THE DARK CHAPTER I THE NIGHT SHE CAME THE room was very dark and still. As I sat up in bed I could hear nothing except the creaking of the window shade. Then, from a neighboring yard came the sharp bark of a dog, breaking the tense silence as though a sudden warning of impending danger. I raised my hand nervously to turn on the electric light over my head. As my fingers fumbled along the bracket, seeking for the switch, a hand came out of the blackness and seized my wrist. My body became rigid. My arm stiffened and be- came immovable. I stopped breathing and listened for the breath of that Other One in the room. I could not hear a sound. The sus- pense became intolerable. Slowly I moved my 11 IN THE DAEK hand downward. Then, with a convulsive burst of energy, I tore at the fingers which clasped my arm. Another hand came out of the black- ness and seized me by the throat. The strug- gle for mastery commenced in the silence and in the dark. I did not dare to cry out for fear of arousing Her that soft-voiced stranger, sleeping at the other end of the apartment. My antagonist seemed also to fear noise. He fought viciously but without a word, without unnecessary vio- lence. His knee pressed into my chest. His breath at least he breathed he was human his breath felt hot on my cheeks. Slowly, de- liberately he gained control of my writhing muscles. At last he spoke : "Lie still! Or " I ceased struggling. "My name is Curlew," he said. "Do you understand?" He was the man across the hall, my neighbor, whom, in six months, I had never seen. No, I did not understand. I said so. 12 THE NIGHT SHE CAME He laughed, low and incredulously. "She knows," he said. "Who is she!" said I. "You ought to know. You brought her here. ' ' "I do not know," I whispered. "What is her name?" He laughed again. "We will ask her." His voice shook, as if with anger. "Don't you disturb her," I said fiercely. "She is sick. Leave her alone." A terrible dread seized me that this violent man would arouse her, that slender, fainting woman whom I had half-carried up the last, long flight of stairs. "I don't know you," I whispered. "I don't know her. But I found her not you and you leave her alone!" A gust of wind blew the curtain aside and a bar of moonlight fell for an instant across the bed. I saw a gaunt, bony face within a foot of my own. Two deep-set gray eyes glared 13 IN THE DAEK at me and then slipped back into the shad- ows. "Where did you find her?" he asked slowly. I said nothing. " Where did you find her?" He dug his nails into my imprisoned arms. "You have no right to ask," I answered, in desperation trying a random shot. His grip relaxed in a momentary shudder. "Then you know," he whispered. "I know nothing." Which was the truth. Several minutes passed without a word from my companion. Then he spoke rapidly. "If I turn on the light, will you promise to lie quiet?" "Yes." He released me and switched on the light. Then he tiptoed across the room, closed the door and the open window and drew down the shades on both windows. He was a man of unusual size and, as I could readily testify, of extraordinary strength. His movements showed the alert nervous energy of an athlete 14 THE NIGHT SHE CAME in training but his strong thoughtful face con- tradicted any suggestion that he might be a professional. In fact my first guess was that he was a mining engineer, whose outdoor work had maintained in him the active strength of youth, despite his apparent age of at least forty years. My guess proved later to be correct. "Mr. Winston," he said, "I have led a strange, hard life but there has not been much in it of which I'm ashamed. My reason for be- ing here to-night is entirely honorable, but I didn't dare to risk a conventional effort to find out what I must know. Understand another thing," he interjected fiercely, "I don't lie. I may not tell you everything but what I say will be the truth." "I believe you," I answered promptly, for I did. "That woman whom you brought here was, and is, very dear to me dearer than any- thing in the world. Years ago I lost her, lost every trace of her through my own act. De- tails don't matter. I left town suddenly; was 15 IN THE DAEK gone for some years; returned. She had dis- appeared. I've searched for her everywhere. I find her in your apartment. How does she come to be here ! ' ' "I can't give you any information." His face lost its look of terrible anxiety and hardened with bitterness. "To be absolutely candid, I know almost nothing about her. But she is in distress for which I'm not in the least degree responsible. Perhaps you are." He shook his head. "Then why didn't you ring the doorbell and ask for her early this evening?" "I'm not telling you all," he said, "but I mean her no harm." "You haven't acted like a man who meant well by her." "You know more than you pretend," he ac- cused. "You said I had no right to ask." "If that was true, then you are not going to be answered." "Well, I'll tell you one thing," he snarled, 16 THE NIGHT SHE CAME raising his voice, "if you won't talk I'll have to talk to her. I wanted to save her that pain if if some things were true." "Don't you dare to disturb her," I shouted. "She's sick, I tell you. Let her alone." As he backed slowly toward the door I sat up in bed and shook a protesting hand at him. "You talk about caring for her! Leave her alone until to-morrow. Let her sleep in peace." "And find her gone in the morning," he sneered, "after years of searching. That's not Jim Curlew's way. I'll see her now!" He jerked out the key as he opened the door and as he slammed it behind him I heard the lock click. I sprang across the room and, drag- ging open a bureau drawer, pulled a loaded revolver from its hiding place. Luckily a closet in my room had been built as a passage- way to the little hall that led to Her room. Pushing through the hanging garments I tol- lowed close upon Curlew. The door was open ! I plunged into the darkness, pressed the light- switch and disclosed the blinking Curlew stand- 17 IN THE DAEK ing in the center of the room. She was not there. My roving glance noted the disordered bed, its counterpane turned back and blankets rumpled, where She had evidently lain down fully clad. Poor girl! She had probably fallen asleep despite her nervous fears of the house of a stranger and, wakening at the sound of our angry voices, fled terror-stricken from her brief refuge. Would she have left a word for me ? There was a little pencil by the candle on the table at the head of the bed. A white slip near it caught my eye. I moved toward it cautiously. "She must have heard us," I said idly, to distract Curlew, slipping my weapon ostenta- tiously into my left hand. "Yes,'* he answered dully. My hand dropped on the slip. "What's that?" he demanded, stepping to- ward me. Happily the bed was between us. I dropped my eyes to the slip and read: "To-morrow evening eight same place." A long arm reached across the bed and 18 THE NIGHT SHE CAME gripped my left wrist putting the revolver out of service. "Give me that note," said Curlew, "or by" As he jerked me forward I had just sense enough to thrust the crumpled paper into my mouth. I struck out wildly with my right hand. Curlew seized it and, utterly disregarding the menacing weapon in my left, tore the clenched fingers open. I swallowed convulsively. "What did you do with it?" he cried. I stood up and, feeling safe from immediate as- sault, grew calmer. "Mr. Curlew!" I said, walking away a step or two, "you have broken into my home and attacked me twice within the last half hour. I don't know what it means or if you think you are out on the frontier, but I know that the law will protect me if I shoot you down and I give you just thirty seconds to get out." I raised the revolver and I meant what I said. I wouldn't have killed him, but I should have shot him in the arm or leg without hesi- 19 IN THE DARK tation, had he moved toward me. With a curi- ous wandering of attention I speculated as to whether a bullet would go through and break a long mirror just behind him. He hesitated, flickering glimpses of deep, struggling emo- tions quivering through his harsh features. Then he retreated. Nothing was said until he turned the knob of the front door. "Mr. Winston," he almost pleaded, "this is a terrible blow to me. I thought I had found her. I've searched so long! Won't you help me to see her! I'm sorry I lost control of myself. Of course, you're quite right. But I don 't mean her any harm. ' ' "If I should ever see her again, of course I'll tell her about you. If she thinks you mean no harm, why shouldn't she see you? I know where to find you." "But she may have been deceived about me," he answered. ' ' She may think I 've done some- thing I haven't. Don't you see?" "Yes, I understand." The man's earnest- 20 THE NIGHT SHE CAME ness affected me. "I'll tell her that she may be mistaken if I see her." "Thank you," he said simply. "Let me apologize again for everything. Good-night." My first thought as the door closed behind him was: How did he get in? The unlocked door upon the front porch was the immediate answer. The porch being common to both he had simply walked out of his door, stepped over the dividing railing and entered at my door. As I strolled out idly across this porch the lights flashed on in his living room. I glanced in and saw him walking up and down, hands clenched and face distorted. Now and then he paused and, gripping his lined forehead with both hands, seemed to be trying to press a bind- ing pain from his temples. The man was plainly in mental agony. He looked like a de- cent sort. Perhaps I had done wrong. I went in and sat down before the cold hearth to think it over. 21 CHAPTER II HOW SHE CAME IN the first place I had encountered Her through purest chance. As my sister, who lived with me and attended to the domestic de- tails of my humdrum existence, was in the East, visiting friends, I had dined late at the Club after a hard day at the office. Feeling fagged and yet sleepless I left the suburban train at a distant station so as to enjoy a roundabout walk through the park. Striding briskly along an unfrequented path I noticed casually on a bench, almost invisible in the shadows, the drooping figure of a woman. I had passed on but a few steps when a dull thud brought me up short and turning back I saw that the slender form had slipped from its resting place. With a momentary wish that it was not a mere dis- 22 HOW SHE CAME gristing " drunk," followed by a fervent hope that it was nothing more serious, I hurried to the woman's aid. She struggled to her knees as I put my hands under her shoulders and whispered something about, "all right " "sorry " Her voice shook but there was no intoxicated blur in the words and I helped her back to a sitting posture on the bench with mingled relief and pity. "What is the matter?" I said, after a mo- ment's silence. "Can I help you in any way?" I could barely see her face in the dim light, but her dull eyes suddenly glistened with tears. She tried to speak several times before I caught the faint whisper, "No food." For one discreditable moment some recollec- tion flashed across of the "starving game" worked by unscrupulous women on impression- able men. Then decent common sense re- turned. No fraud would choose such a lone- some pathway and I didn 't believe anyone could act such a part with the terrible effectiveness of this woman. 23 IN THE DAEK "Do you think you could walk?" I asked. "I'll try," she said bravely. Then she added vaguely "why?" ""We must get where there's food," I said with attempted cheeriness. For a moment I thought she was going to faint, then she stiffened her neck and rose un- steadily. "Excuse me," I murmured, slipping an arm under her shoulders. Then I remembered my first thought on touching her. Her arms were like thin cloth hung on strips of cardboard. I almost feared to lift her up. It seemed that she would bend and break under the strain. We walked very slowly and without exchang- ing a word along the winding path until we emerged from the park on the street that led to my house. Then she paused a moment and raising her drooping head with obvious effort she asked : "Where are you taking me?" "I'm perfectly willing to take you anywhere you wish," I answered in some embarrassment, 24 HOW SHE CAME "but I think a public restaurant would well it wouldn't be comfortable for you, I mean. I should like to have you come with me to my house. Unfortunately my sister is away I'm all alone it may seem unusual to ask you but this whole situation is a bit unusual. Do you mind?" She looked at me unsteadily for a moment with pitiful eyes that strove so hard to be brave. Then she touched my arm ever so lightly with a shaking hand and half whispered : "If you are all alone, and will understand I think you do I'll go! I couldn't meet a woman ! ' ' "There's not even a servant there," I said. "And I do understand. I hope that you un- derstand me also." Neither on the poorly lighted street, nor in the glaring hall of the apartment building did I meet even a casual acquaintance, for which good fortune we smiled feebly at each other as we faced the long stairway that led to my third-floor rooms. On the first landing she 25 IN THE DARK swayed perceptibly. I suppose I unconsciously hastened her in shamefaced fear of an en- counter with a neighbor, who, neighborlike, would be sure to misunderstand. Without giving time for protest I slipped my arm down to her yielding waist and practically carried her unassisted the balance of the way. A flit- ting shade of terror crossed her face but I silenced a half-formed remonstrance with a most businesslike, "Please!" Once inside the hall door I released my hold and she followed me with uncertain steps into the living room where I set to work immediately to make the place comfortable. I purposely paid no atten- tion to her until I had lit the lamps, stuffed kindling and paper into the fireplace, and drawn a heavy, padded chair up in front of the strug- gling blaze. Then I said, rather brusquely: "Now, please make yourself as comfortable as you can while I investigate the kitchen re- sources.'* She was standing near the doorway, support- ing herself with one arm thrown across the 26 HOW SHE CAME back of a chair. She was peering perplexedly around the room, evidently trying to appraise its owner's character from his surroundings and at the same time striving to adjust her own presence there with her usual notions of the fitness of things. So absorbed was she in forcing her dulled senses to the task that she failed utterly to hear me and as her roaming glance chanced to focus on my expectant face the color rushed into her thin cheeks and she closed her eyes in complete and charming con- fusion. "Please" she stammered. "Please sit down," I finished her phrase. "I'll return immediately," and I tramped out to the kitchen in equal embarrassment. For the first time I realized that in honestly offering sympathetic aid to an unknown and unseen person I had incidentally achieved a sudden intimacy with a most attractive woman. Even romantic interest would not invest her with beauty. She could not be fairly described as pretty. But she had a wistful sweetness in 27 IN THE DARK her delicate features, a soft, fragile appear- ance and truly lovely, deep-set gray eyes that gazed upon all things with vague wonderment. The result of my first exploring look was an immediate disturbing sense of appeal that stirred the male desire to comfort and befriend an ambition, born perhaps in a wish to rule that speedily becomes a desire to serve. I cursed myself as a susceptible ass and kicked open the pantry door. From the pleasant disorder to which I had soon reduced my sister's neatly concealed food supplies, I extracted a can of string beans, a jar of preserves, bread, butter, cold meat in short enough viands for a small gang of harvesters. These I arranged in unappetizing confusion upon a large Japanese tray, added a few utensils and, in a moment of happy thought, a glass of water, and bore triumphantly into the front room. My visitor had removed her hat, a simple thing of blue felt, ornamented with a single drooping feather of the same shade, and was 28 HOW SHE CAME leaning back in the big chair, her thin-soled, muddy little shoes thrust toward the warming logs. Her hair in its well-ordered confusion dispelling cynical doubts as to its origin was brushed back loosely from the forehead, and the firelight wove into the rich brown masses glints of copper fire that melted my carefully congealed attitude in one glowing moment. "Oh, it's so comfortable," she murmured, looking up in lazy content. "What a lot of trouble you've taken!" She started to rise. "Now you stay right where you are," I com- manded with deceptive brusqueness. I put the tray on a small side table and dragged the whole affair clumsily across the room. "Bemember," I advised, "the doctors say one must eat very little and very slowly after going without food for a time. I didn't know what you would like, so I brought all this stuff in, but you mustn't eat very much of it. By George! I forgot. You ought to have some coffee, the first thing something hot. Just 29 IN THE DARK peck at these while I make some coffee. I can recommend my coffee." Chattering absurdly, I overbore her remon- strances and hurried out of the room. It was really lucky I had forgotten the coffee. I couldn't have stayed and watched her eat. When I saw her eyes glitter and her thin little hands actually shaking in nervous anticipa- tion, a lump came right up in my throat and a foolish sort of prickly feeling in the back of my eyes and well, I simply had to leave the room. When I came back with the coffee and with, I hoped, a certain feeble self-control, she was eating cold tongue and buttered bread as though it were grilled prairie chicken on toast. "One lump or two?" I inquired. j "Just one," she said, with dainty decisive- ness. And I loved the way she said it. Sounds silly. But I did. There was no use deceiving myself. If I deceived myself I would be caught 30 HOW SHE CAME off guard and surely do or say something in- excusable. So I said to myself frankly: "Look here, Winston, the romantic element of this thing has got into your blood. It has in- toxicated you. You're falling in love with an absolutely unknown girl at the rate of three hundred feet a second. The affair isn't as deep as you think it is now, and if you don't get hold of your boot straps and pull back you're going to hit bottom suddenly with a crash. Now hang on, old man." So I hung on. But I knew I was falling just the same. The boot straps simply gave me a feeling of self-control. I didn't really have any inhibi- tions except inherited instincts, inbred conven- tionalities and fear fear that I might offend and for that fear I was truly grateful, for the other protections were like tissue-paper screens. They helped keep me cool but if the flames ever touched them, they were gone! Of course, I must have given myself away, a little. Now and then she glanced at me in 31 IN THE DAKK a troubled way. But, womanlike, she felt her power to check as well as to inspire and, woman- like, feeling secure, she enjoyed a sense of risk. We talked very little, but when she finally laid her knife and fork primly across her plate and leaned back with a little sigh of comfort, I was loathe to stir. "It was so nice!" she said softly, as I picked up the tray. "I feel so warm and drowsy. " And indeed when I returned a few minutes later from the kitchen she was curled up in the big chair sound asleep. I moved softly around the room, possessed myself of a magazine, after a moment's thought rejected a cigar, and sat down by the larger lamp to read. But every now and then my eyes strayed to the relaxed, slender form in the padded chair. Poor little weary woman from nowhere, who had slipped into the circle of my firelight from the vague World Outside. I wondered curiously what misfortunes had brought her to the bench in the park. From where had she come? Then, a more disquiet- 32 HOW SHE CAME ing thought, where was she going! Why should she go? Yes, of course, she must go. But, where? Certainly not into that vague World Outside. That would never do. 33 CHAPTER in WHENCE SHE CAME IT must have been nearly eleven o 'clock when, glancing up from my magazine, I found her looking at me, her gray eyes wide with won- dering uncertainty. 1 'Oh, I forgot," she said. "I must have fallen asleep." She stood up, leaning un- steadily on the chair. "I must go." "Where?" "Home," the words came slowly. "It must be very late. ' ' "Wait," I said; "I'll call a cab." "No, no," she protested. Of course it was plain that a girl found half- starved in the park at night had no "home" to which she was willing or likely to go. She had volunteered no explanation and I disliked to ask for one. But one meal and a few hours 34 WHENCE SHE CAME by the fire could only be delaying the time when someone must help her. Why should not I? Why not now? "The fact is," I said bluntly, "that you really don't wish to go anywhere in particular. But you think you ought not to stay here. Won't you tell me what the trouble is? Some- thing temporary, I suppose. Can't I help you tide it over!" She swayed indecisively for a moment, her eyes closed and forehead puckered. Then she sat down again in the deep chair and, leaning forward earnestly, told me a little of her story. "I can't explain everything," she said, "but I would like you to know why you found me there and why I let you bring me here. I came to Chicago only two years ago to act as private secretary to a man, whom I had known before. I'll call him Smith. He was an old friend of the family and when circumstances forced me to get work he offered me this posi- tion. For reasons connected with other people I did not care for acquaintances. I've lived 35 IN THE DARK very much alone in a boarding house down on Indiana Avenue near Twentieth Street. I haven't really a friend in town, but I don't mind playing around by myself, so I've been quite comfortable. Only, you see, I've no one to ap- peal to in time of trouble." "That seems to be the way of the world," I said sententiously as she paused. "If we deny the world when we are self-sufficient; the world denies us in the day of our insufficiency." "Solemn thought, isn't it?" she replied politely, but with suppressed amusement. Then she added more seriously: "It's been bitterly true in my case. "About two weeks ago a big change was made in Mr. Smith's business. The Chicago office was given up and Mr. Smith sent out to California to open up a branch there; the main office is in New York. He had very little time in which to arrange matters here as the change was decided upon suddenly after several weeks of discussion. Nevertheless he made arrangements for me to take a position 36 WHENCE SHE CAME with well, a big mail-order house. Mr. Jones, a department head, and Mr. Smith were close friends and it was arranged that I should go in as assistant to Mr. Jones." "We are not going to tell our real names, I gather,'* I remarked, dryly. "Oh, it's unfair of me," she said, "because you've been so kind to me and of course" a glint of mischief touched her somber eyes "I could find out your name from the mail box downstairs. But please let everything about me be unidentified for the present." "All right for the present," I repeated. "I was to report to Mr. Jones last Monday morning. Mr. Smith left several days before and I spent the intervening time in some long- neglected shopping. My nice old landlady sold out a little while ago and a horrible creature took her place. I might as well say that while I can attend to a man's work, in business, I can't take care of my own affairs. Every at- tempt I've made at keeping accounts has failed. So I don't dare to run bills. The only person 37 IN THE DARK I've ever owed in Chicago was ray landlady. I was two weeks behind when she sold out and the new woman, who is a close-fisted thing, bought all unpaid accounts with the place. My poor old lady told me she insisted on taking them over at seventy-five cents on the dollar. But she'll collect every cent. "The new 'missus', as the servants call her, was very sweet but I knew she was a hag and I meant to pay up that old bill right away. Then in the joy of my shopping I forgot alto- gether about it. Last Saturday night I found not only that I couldn't pay the old bill but that I had less than five dollars to apply on last week. I went to 'missus' to explain and she was horrible. 'I see you've lost your job,' she said. She'd noticed that I was around in the middle of the day. 'No, I haven't,' I an- swered, 'I'm just changing jobs. My new job begins Monday.' 'Well, I'd like my money or at least a part of it,' she replied, softening a little, and I went back to my room shaking with anger. 38 WHENCE SHE CAME "You see, I'm not used to being insulted or having my word doubted. But the worst was to come. Half an hour afterward the land- lady's son knocked on my door. He must have been created a disagreeable, useless young puppy, and his mother has bred him into a very nasty dog. He suggested smirkily that he might 'call off the mater,' only I was such a stand-offish person that I didn't encourage anyone to be friendly. "I snapped out that he didn't seem to need any encouragement and then oh, what is the use of my telling you all this. You can guess the situation. I went downtown Monday de- termined to ask Mr. Jones to advance me a week's salary. That would quiet the 'missus' ' real suspicions and give me time to write to my sister in Detroit for help. But an awful thing happened. "Mr. Jones' father had died and he had gone East suddenly. No one in the office knew a thing about me. Of course, Mr. Jones had for- gotten in his rush and trouble that I was com- 39 IN THE DARK ing Monday and apparently he hadn't happened to tell anyone. Naturally the women in his de- partment, who had been expecting to be pushed up to fill the place of the assistant who had left, weren't very cordial to me. In fact I think they thought that I was trying to get the place. Since Mr. Jones hadn't said anything about me they probably doubted if I had been chosen. They were really quite horrid. I was never so embarrassed in my life. "Just like a little fool I went home to think it over. The 'missus' met me in the hall. 'Didn't get the job, I see,' she sneered; 'well I intend to get my money just the same ! ' Still acting like a fool I unfastened my purse and turned it upside down on the hall table. 'There's every cent I have,' I said; 'take it!' Then in a moment of sanity I grabbed a half dollar and said: 'I'll use this to telegraph my sister for enough to pay my bill and then I'll leave this this' well, I called the house a pretty bad name. You see, I was dreadfully 40 WHENCE SHE CAME angry and really she had recently taken in some very queer looking l peroxides.' " 'Oh, that's what you call my boarding house for refined young ladies, is it,' she screamed. 'Very well. You can't go too soon for me. But, I tell you, not another meal will you eat in this house. I ought to turn you out on the street but you can sleep here if you think it's respectable enough for your ladyship.' "Her hoarse, high voice rang through the house. I could hear doors opening upstairs and could see skirts sticking through the rail- ings along the second-floor hall. It was ter- rible. " 'You can stay until sweet sister sends you enough to pay your bill but don't you try to sneak out with any of your things or I'll ' I couldn 't stand it any longer. I simply bolted through the front door and scurried away down the street to a telegraph office. I tramped around all day, spending time in department store rest-rooms, at the Art Institute, Public 41 IN THE DAEK Library and such places. At night I bought some fruit and crackers with my remaining pennies and stole in about ten o'clock unob- served. No telegram. I thought perhaps there would be a letter in the morning. No letter in the first mail. "I just missed the 'missus' in the hall but got out safely and went to a secluded corner in a downtown hotel for another ' think-f est. ' I had eaten the remains of my fruit and crackers in my room so I had a little courage left. Then I realized what had happened and all my courage left me. "My brother-in-law's business requires him to take a long trip usually once a year. He travels way to the Coast, but very slowly long stops at big towns and he always takes my sister with him. Having no children, they simply shut up their apartment. Their maid usually goes to her mother's house, just com- ing around now and then so as to keep an eye on things. My sister and I don't correspond as much as we used to, so I had entirely for- 42 WHENCE SHE CAME gotten that she had said a few weeks ago that they would probably leave about this time. "The most irritating thing was that they were sure to reach Chicago soon, but just when I couldn't tell. They usually stopped at the hotel I was in when this idea occurred to me; so I went to the desk and asked if rooms were reserved for them. No, of course not, that would have been too good luck. "Obviously I couldn't live on nothing for a week. What did people do when they needed money? They pawned things! Well, I didn't have much but I thought I could get a few dollars on some small pieces of jewelry. So I tramped back home. You see, I didn't have even car fare. I was glad I lived at Twen- tieth! "I gathered up my courage and marched in, bold as brass. My room door was locked ! On it was the 'missus' ' card on which she had writ- ten: 'See me.' I heard her voice downstairs and I ran down as fast as I could and furiously demanded to know why my room was locked. 43 IN THE DABK " 'Well, Miss Hoity-Toity,' she said,