"If I'm innocent and can prove it, Fred Obermuller, I'll get even with
you for--for this."
"Do you want to do something for me now?"
"Do I?"
"Well, if you want to help me, don't sit there looking like the
criminal ghost of the girl I know."
The blood rushed to my face. Nance Olden, a sniveling coward! Me,
showing the white feather--me, whimpering like a whipped
puppy--me--Nance Olden!
"You know," I smiled up at him, "I never did enjoy getting caught."
"Hush! But that's better.... Tell me now--"
A buzzer sounded. The blue-eyed detective got up and came over to me.
"Chief's ready," he said. "This way."
They stopped Obermuller at the door. But he pushed past them.
"I want to say just a word to you, Chief," he said. "You remember me.
I'm Obermuller, of the Vaudeville. If you'll send those fellows out
and let me speak to you just a moment, I'll leave you alone with Miss
Olden."
The Chief nodded to the blue-eyed detective, and he and the other
fellow went out and shut the door behind them.
"I want simply to call your attention to the absurdity and
unreasonableness of this thing," Obermuller said, leaning up against
the Chief's desk, while he threw out his left hand with that big open
gesture of his, "and to ask you to bear in mind, no matter what
appearances may be, that Miss Olden is the most talented girl on the
stage to-day; that in a very short time she will be at the top; that
just now she is not suffering for lack of money; that she's not a
high-roller, but a determined, hard-working little grind, and that if
she did feel like taking a plunge, she knows that she could get all she
wants from me even--"
"Even if you can't pay salaries when they're due, Obermuller." The
Chief grinned under his white mustache.
"Even though the Trust is pushing me to the wall; going to such lengths
that they're liable criminally as well as civilly, if I could only get
my hands on proof of their rascality. It's true I can't pay salaries
always when they're due, but I can still raise a few hundred to help a
friend. And Miss Olden is a friend of mine. If you can prove that she
took this money, you prove only that she's gone mad, but you don't--"
"All right, Obermuller. You're not the lawyer for the defense. That'll
come later--if it does come. I'll be glad to bear in mind all you've
said, and much that you haven't."
"Thank you. Good night.... I'll wait for you, Nance, outside."
"I'm going to ask you a lot of questions, Miss Olden," the old Chief
said, when we were alone. "Sit here, please. Morris tells me you've
got more nerve than any woman that's ever come before me, so I needn't
bother to reassure you. You don't look like a girl that's easily
frightened. I have heard how you danced in the lobby of the Manhattan,
how you guyed him at your flat, and were getting lunch and having a
regular picnic of a time when--"
"When he found that purse."
"Exactly. Now, why did you do all that?"
"Why? Because I felt like it. I felt gay and excited and--"
"Not dreaming that that purse was sure to be found?"
"Not dreaming that there was such a purse in existence except from the
detective's say--so, and never fancying for an instant that it would be
found in my flat."
"Hm!" He looked at me from under his heavy, wrinkled old lids. You
don't get nice eyes from looking on the nasty things in this world, Mag.
"Why," I cried, "what kind of a girl could cut up like that when she
was on the very edge of discovery?"
"A very smart girl--an actress; a good one; a clever thief who's used
to bluffing. Of course," he added softly, "you won't misunderstand me.
I'm simply suggesting the different kinds of girl that could have done
what you did. But, if you don't mind, I'll do the questioning. Nance
Olden," he turned suddenly on me, his manner changed and threatening,
"what has become of that three hundred dollars?"
"Mr. Chief, you know just as much about that as I do."
I threw up my head and looked him full in the face. It was over
now--all the shivering and trembling and fearing. Nance Olden's not a
coward when she's fighting for her freedom; and fighting alone without
any sympathizing friend to weaken her.
He returned the look with interest.
"I may know more," he said insinuatingly.
"Possibly." I shrugged my shoulders.
No, it wasn't put on. There never yet was a man who bullied me that
didn't rouse the fighter in me. I swore to myself that this old
thief-catcher shouldn't rattle me.
"Doesn't it occur to you that under the circumstances a full confession
might be the very best thing for you? I shouldn't wonder if these
people would be inclined to be lenient with you if you'd return the
money. Doesn't it occur--"
"It might occur to me if I had anything to confess--about this purse."
"How long since you've seen Mrs. Edward Ramsay?" He rushed the
question at me.