JOSIE FINDS A FRIEND
The hall bedroom that Mandy had decided was the suitable place for
Josie proved to be clean and comfortable. To be sure it was a third
floor back, but Josie liked to be high up and she also liked the
outlook on the back yards of the neighbors.
“Yonder’s de ol’ Ellett place,” pointed Aunt Mandy. “It’s some run
down, but it wa’ sho a el’gant home in de ole days. I reckon dat ol’
skinflint Cheatham will en’ by buildin’ ’partments dar. Some say he
cyarn’t git a clar title or he’d a been tearin’ down an’ puttin’ up
befo’ now. Yonder’s him dis blessed minute! Done step out ter view his
prop’ty.”
Josie craned her neck to see the rear of poor Ursula’s home, and if
possible to get a good look at the villain, Cheatham. At any rate he
was in Louisville and not flying across the continent with poor little
Philip.
“First, I must see the police here,” she decided ruefully. Seeing the
police--any police but her old friend Captain Charlie Lonsdale--was a
sore trial to Josie. Like most private detectives she was inclined to
look down somewhat on the regular force, but she was more interested in
having the wrongdoer tracked than in gaining honor and glory by being
the one to bring him in.
“The important thing is to find little Philip and unless Captain
Charlie has already wired the Louisville police it is up to me to see
them.”
One reason for Miss Lucy Leech’s success in running a boarding house
was that she attended strictly to her own business and let the guests
of her home attend to theirs. She had not gotten rich on this policy,
as it is said one may do, but she was at least able to keep her house
well filled and to save a comfortable sum for her old age, which was
in truth upon her, although she did not realize it. Now that the new
and somewhat mysterious young boarder, so highly recommended by the
hackman and the porter, decided to brave the slush and the fog and go
for a walk on Christmas morning, Miss Lucy asked no questions and in
consequence was told no lies. Josie thanked her in her heart and went
bravely forth.
Two things were happening to the weather. The sun was clearing away the
fog and no longer looked so like an orange, and the thermometer was
dropping rapidly. Josie was glad of both changes. It was good to find
Louisville not the dismal place she had thought it on arriving, but a
very pleasing city. A fog is beautiful to an artist but the lay brother
prefers a clear day. As for the drop in temperature, it meant less
slush and easier walking and a bracing atmosphere that made Josie sniff
the air like a colt that has been pent up long in a stable.
The young detective missed the homely friendliness of the Dorfield
chief, but had a feeling that the police force of Louisville was really
very adequate. The captain in charge was an alert, business-like
person, who took hold of the facts, as Josie expressed it to herself,
“like a woman.”
“Now what are your plans?” he asked. Josie liked him because he didn’t
call her “miss.” Captain Charlie would have said: “What are your plans,
miss?” Josie liked being a girl but she hated being “missed” when she
was at work.
“I reckon I’m going to hunt the motive first. I can’t see why anyone
would want to steal a little orphan boy, when the homes and asylums
are full of darling children waiting to be adopted. Philip is a lovely
child, but not the loveliest I have ever seen. Of course, I suspect
this Mr. Cheatham, but he is in Louisville this minute. I am going to
ascertain if he has been on a trip recently and look into his financial
standing. I am also going to Peewee Valley to see some old friends of
Miss Ellett. Miss Ellett is a peculiarly reticent person and it is very
difficult to get information from her as to her early life. She does
not intend to conceal anything, but the only way to get any information
out of her is to worm it out. She had very few friends owing to her
mother’s long illness and the peculiarities of her stepfather. Colonel
Trask’s family at Peewee Valley were her only intimates.”
“She chose well while she was choosing,” said the police captain.
“Well, Miss O’Gorman, you seem to leave very little to the local police
force to do. Your name, combined with your methods, make me think
you must be some kin to the famous O’Gorman whose place can never be
filled. Am I right?”
“My father,” said Josie softly.
“Well! Well! Well!” he cried, jumping up from his desk and shaking the
girl by both hands. “I’ve worked with O’Gorman on many a case. My, he
was a wonder! I think you look like him.”
Josie blushed with delight. Most girls would not like to be told they
resembled a funny looking little man with a blobby nose, but Josie
was as pleased as though the police captain had told her she must be
related to Mary Pickford. Anything at all connected with her beloved
father was almost sacred to the girl. When someone told her she looked
like him, or resembled him in traits, she had a better opinion of
herself all day.
“Well, O’Gorman’s daughter will know how to coöperate,” said the
captain, “and that is more than can be said of most detectives. They
are always so anxious to get the credit that they will let the criminal
escape rather than see someone else capture him. O’Gorman was in the
business for the joy he got out of righting wrongs. He never waited to
be thanked and sometimes not even to be paid. I’ll be bound he died a
poor man.”
“Not a rich one,” said Josie, “but if I live to be old there’ll be
enough to keep me out of the poorhouse and if I die young, enough to
bury me decently and start someone else in life.”
“Spoken like your father!” laughed the captain. “He never told an
inquisitive person to mind his own business in so many words but he
usually let him know where to ‘get off’.”
“I didn’t mean--” faltered Josie.
“I know you didn’t mean, but you just did, and I respect you all the
more for it.”
“Well, Father always did say that if you could not be trusted with your
own affairs you could not be trusted with other folks’. I have a habit
of taking it for granted that my business is of no interest to others.
I did not intend to be snippy.”
“Exactly!” The man laughed silently. He could but mark that Josie still
kept to herself what money her father may or may not have left to his
only heir.
“If you think best, I’ll go immediately to Peewee Valley and see the
Trasks. Miss Ellett tells me they are her best friends and I feel
perhaps they may know something of the movements of Cheatham. Before I
go, however, I’ll make a call on the nurses’ registrar and look into
the supposed whereabouts of this nurse Fitchet.”
“I don’t see what you are leaving to me to do then,” said the captain,
smiling.
“Well, I guess you have other cases on your docket just now, while this
is my sole interest. Good-bye, sir, and thank you for your courtesy!”
Josie was up and gone before the surprised man could say anything more.
“Her father all over!” he grinned. “‘Waste not, want not!’ meant words
as well as food to Detective O’Gorman.”