PHILIP IS FOUND
Had Cheatham harbored the slightest suspicion against Teddy Trask’s
friend, her conversation on the journey from Louisville to Cincinnati
would have completely dispelled it. Cheatham was an intelligent
villain, with some culture, and Josie’s deliberately silly patter bored
him intensely. He stood it for about an hour and then made a plea of
having to see a business acquaintance in the smoker.
“Well, I’ll see you again,” said Josie, “good-bye! Where are you
going to stop in Cincinnati? I may go out to Walnut Hills with some
friends or I’d just love to see you sometime. Where’d you say you were
stopping? Not that I’d have any time for you. My friends are awfully
smart. Money to burn. Cars and just everything. I’ll be dated up for
every minute. Only going to be here one night anyhow. Where’d you say?”
“Hotel Haddon!”
“Gee! I never even heard of it. Is it slummy?”
“Not at all! Very decent. An old downtown hotel!” Mr. Cheatham beat a
hasty retreat.
Josie dropped her flapperish expression as soon as Cheatham passed from
her coach and then she leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes with
a sigh of relief. She wanted to think and to think fast. The porter
passed down the aisle. Why not find out from him just where the Hotel
Haddon was? Giving an adroit twist to the shade at the window, she
pulled it out of place, which gave her an excuse to call on the porter
for his services.
“Awfully sorry,” she said, slipping some silver in his hand after he
had adjusted the shade. “Please tell me, do you know a Hotel Haddon in
Cincinnati?”
“Yes, miss! Down-town place--uster be a fambly hotel but now it’s
kinder taken over by theatre people. Travelin’ men use it some. I
wouldn’t ’vise it for a lone young lady.”
Josie thanked him and listened attentively to the list of hotels he did
advise for one in her situation.
“Now, there’s a real ladylike hotel right acrost the street from the
Haddon if you’ve a mind to be down-town. It’s called the Alpha,” said
the friendly porter.
When the train pulled in at Cincinnati Josie managed to make herself
invisible behind the curtains of the ladies’ dressing room. She hardly
expected Cheatham to look her up, but there was a chance of his doing
it, and she wanted him to forget she was in Cincinnati if possible.
When the train was about emptied, she darted out, seized a belated red
cap and had him put her safely into a taxi.
“Hotel Alpha,” she called, and at that moment had the satisfaction
of seeing Cheatham enter a bus bearing the inscription Hotel Haddon.
Evidently he had told the truth about his stopping place, because
he had no suspicion of her wanting to know for any reason but idle
curiosity.
Now came for Josie a period of watchful waiting. Fortunately the
parlors of the Alpha Hotel were situated on the mezzanine floor and
overlooked the street. Having registered and engaged a room, Josie
ensconced herself in an easy chair behind a sash curtain that gave
her a full view of the street and the Hotel Haddon which was directly
across the way.
She was excited. There was no use in denying it. She felt her heart
beats distinctly and her hands trembled a bit.
“Here, girl! Pull yourself together!” she commanded. “This is no time
to behave in a womanish way, even if you are stopping at a ladylike
hotel.”
She eagerly scanned the windows of the Haddon, beginning at the second
floor and working systematically to the top. The building was only
four stories high. The windows were blank and empty and gave away no
secrets. Once she saw a man with a black moustache look out of one on
the third floor, but he so quickly turned that Josie could not be sure
of his identity. She marked the window, however--third floor at the
extreme right.
So busy was she gazing at that window she almost missed seeing Cheatham
emerge from the hotel accompanied by a woman, rather handsome, with
auburn hair, carrying her head decidedly on one side. They were talking
animatedly and walking rapidly. Josie also marked the gait of the woman
which took a zigzag course--so much so that at times she bumped into
the man by her side.
Again she looked up to the window on the third floor. It was blank but
on the second floor directly below she was sure she could distinguish a
wistful little face pressed close to the pane.
Josie paused not a moment. She did not wait for the elevator, but
darted down the steps from the mezzanine and was across the street
and in the Hotel Haddon before Cheatham and Miss Fitchet had even
turned the corner. The Hotel Haddon was rather a haphazard place and,
there being no clerk at the desk at the time, it was not necessary for
her to explain her business. The elevator landed Josie at the second
floor and, with an air of being a guest, she walked to the extreme
end of the hall and turned the knob of the door of Number 220. She
had her skeleton key in case it was necessary to use it, but was much
relieved when the door opened. Evidently the kidnapers were so sure of
themselves they had not thought of locking the child in the room.
“Hello, Philip!” Josie said quietly. “I’ve come to take you home,
dear.”
Her tone was so composed that Philip did not cry out at all, but his
face was so bright with happiness that Josie almost gave herself up to
the tears that were well nigh choking her.
“Get your coat and hat and let’s hurry,” she said. “Don’t talk any now.
We can talk later.”
It was quite as easy to get out of the hotel with the boy as it had
been to get in without him. She used the stairs this time, however.
It was a matter of five minutes for Josie to release the room she had
engaged at the ladylike hotel, jump in a taxi with Philip and make for
the station. There was a train just ready to pull out, which she caught
by the greatest good luck. It was a local, but its destination was
Louisville. Josie would have taken it no matter what its destination,
as she was sure it was a wise plan to leave Cheatham and Fitchet at any
cost, and she hoped they would do some worrying.
Once they were settled in the train the little boy poured forth his
soul to his liberator.
“I wasn’t doin’ nothin’ but jes’ sleepin’ when all of a sudden somebody
jes’ picked me up an’ carried me off. I kinder thought it was Sister at
first an’ I didn’t wake up all the way. I jes’ went on dreamin’, kinder
half awake, but bye’m’bye I woke up ’cause somehow it didn’t smell
like Sister but like powder. I was so scairt by that time I didn’t know
what to do, so I kicked an’ hollered an’ clawed at that ol’ woman till
she spanked me good.
“We were in a automobile an’ I don’t know where we was goin’ or where
we’ve been but she made me put on my clothes an’ my overcoat, that she
had brung along with me, an’ she tol’ me if I didn’t hush up cryin’
she’d tell Santa Claus I was a bad boy an’ he wouldn’t bring me a thing
an’ I ’membered nex’ day was Christmus an’ I tried to stop bawlin’ but
I missed Sister an’ Ben so bad I didn’t care after a while whether ol’
Santy brought me anything or not. I didn’t see how he was gonter know
I wasn’t home with Sister. At last we went to that hotel where there
weren’t any chimbleys an she tol’ me if I acted ugly she’d give me to
the ash man, but if I ’haved she’d take me to the movies. There was a
big fire here when we first came an’ I saw the men digging for dead
folks but Aunty wouldn’t let me stop.”
“Oh, so she made you call her Aunty, did she?” asked Josie.
“Yes, but I don’t believe she’s any mo’ kin to me than the ash man.
She ain’t never lef me ’til jes’ befo’ you came for me, an’ then
somebody called her up on the ’phone an’ she jes’ powdered herself up
an’ put on her hat an’ tol’ me if I didn’t stay right still until she
got back a ol’ witch would git me. She said she was waitin’ out in the
hall for me, but I didn’t believe her a bit ’cause Sister already tol’
me there wasn’t any witches ’cept in books an’ Aunty didn’t have any
books.
“The man that called her up on the ’phone was waitin’ in the hall for
her but I never saw him. He tol’ her she’d better lock me up in the
room, but she said she was afraid of fire an’ I wouldn’t be no good to
them any more if I got burnt up. I don’t see what good I am to them
now, but Aunty made out she loved me mor’n Sister an’ Ben did, an’ she
was jes a borrowin’ me for a while an’ if I ’haved like a gemman maybe
sometime I could go see Sister. That’s the reason I didn’t holler, an’
was a gonter stay quiet in the room if you hadn’t come for me. She said
she was gonter bring me back some all-day suckers an’ all kinds of
things ’cause Santa Claus didn’t find me after all. An’ I pretty near
knew he wouldn’t.”
“I am pretty sure Santa Claus left your things at your home,” said
Josie softly. “I am also pretty sure you are going to see Sister and
Ben in a few hours. Sister has been very sad over your going away and
Ben has been miserable.”
“Now, didn’t I say so? But ol’ Aunty kep’ on tellin’ me Sister was glad
to get rid of me an’ had asked her to take me off. I never did b’lieve
her, ’cause I’d already caught her lyin’ ’bout Santa Claus. I sure have
missed all of you, The Lady in the Chair an’ Mrs. Danny an’ Uncle Peter
an’ Aunt Peter. I reckon I’m gonter go to sleep. I ain’t slep’ much
since Aunty grabbed me up an’ carried me off. I been thinkin’ so much
an’ then when I’d git mos’ asleep Aunty would pipe up an’ snore to beat
the band. I ain’t been away from home but ’bout three nights but it
seems to me as if I been born away from home an’ been a livin’ with ol’
Aunty all my life.”
“Tell me, Philip, before you go to sleep, was there anybody else with
you and Aunty--a man?”
“One time there was. I think he was Aunty’s brother, only he didn’t
make out he was my uncle. I heard them talkin’ an’ they writ a letter
together. That was in the hotel after we saw the fire a burnin’. She
called him Bill an’ she told him not to let ol’ C. lay eyes on him an’
he said he had some sense left. An’ then he went off with the letter
an’ I ain’t never seen him since an’ I ain’t sorry neither, cause he
was a turrible lookin’ man an’ I don’t see what ol’ C. would want to
lay eyes on him for.”
Philip then put his head in Josie’s lap and slept peacefully until the
porter gave warning that Louisville was the next stop.