Jason never sought the Golden Fleece with more unwearying perseverance
than John displayed in the pursuit of the lost article which Colette
refused to describe. His calls of inquiry didn't mean merely putting the
question politely and taking his departure after receiving an answer. It
meant, in the case of Mrs. Hudgers, a martyr's test of patience in
listening to the devious and manifold routes taken by her rheumatic
pains; a rehearsal of the late lamented Hallie's idiosyncracies; the
details of his last illness; his death; and his wearing of the surplice
at the obsequies.
Throughout her harangue he preached patience unto himself and remembered
that she was an old woman, desolate in her "lone lornness," so he
counselled not, neither did he pray, but comforted her with the
gentleness of voice and speech that won him a fond place in her memory
for all time.
"No," she assured him decisively, as in departing he reminded her of his
original question, "I didn't go fer to look in no pockit. I didn't
suppose them things had pockits."
Then the scene shifted to Derry Phillips's studio, and this visit was
fraught with more difficulties, for there was the case of Amarilly which
must be approached delicately and with subtlety.
After stating his errand concisely and receiving assurance that the
pocket had not been examined, but that the model should be interviewed
by him, John still lingered.
"It's very kind in you to give employment to Amarilly, Mr. Phillips."
Derry shook his head.
"I am the one to be congratulated, Mr. Meredith. I really feel
apologetic to Amarilly for accepting her services. They are so
conscientiously and faithfully rendered that I feel she should be given
a higher scope of work than she can find here. She is an honest, amusing
little soul, and if by giving her employment I can encourage her desire
to be industrious and earn something, I am very glad of the opportunity
to do so."
This was a long and serious observation for the gay-hearted Derry to
make, but he shrewdly fathomed the pastoral duty underlying the
seemingly casual remark.
John's keen perception recognized the sincerity in the ring of the
pleasant young voice, and he was quite won by the boyish directness. An
instinctive confidence moved him to extend the right hand of trust and
fellowship.
"You have been instructive as well as benevolent," he remarked
smilingly. "Two of Amarilly's errors of speech have been eradicated."
The young Artist flushed in slight confusion, and then with a half-
embarrassed laugh, he replied lightly: "Amarilly gave full measure of
correction in return."
Responding to the nameless something in John that so insistently and
irresistibly invited confidence, he related the little incident of the
luncheon and her request in regard to temperate orders in the future.
"And I don't mean to say," he replied with winning frankness, "that it
was merely the request of a little scrub-girl that has kept me temperate
through two months of vacation and temptation, but the guileless
suggestion was the spark that fired the flame of a dormant desire to
change--certain conditions."
John again extended his hand, this time in a remorseful spirit of
apology.
Derry partially understood.
"Amarilly has ardently interested friends," he observed whimsically.
"There was one Vedder, a solemn young German, here to-day in my little
maid's interest."
John's call upon the sable-hued preacher, Brother Washington, also
demanded strategic approach. The question of pockets must be delicately
handled lest any reflection be cast upon the integrity of the race, and
their known penchant for pockets.
Brother Washington's sympathies were at once enlisted, however, when he
scented a romance, for John became more confidential in this than in any
of his prior visitations, in his desire to propitiate. But his search
was fruitless here as elsewhere, and he went away convinced that Brother
Washington had not tampered with the pocket.
He went on to the house of the Reverend James Woodville, who had
performed the marriage ceremony at the nuptials of Mrs. Jimmels, née
Hubbleston. In this instance also no pocket had been discovered in the
garment, so John wended his discouraged way to the office of the Barlow
Theatre.
Mr. Vedder was likewise surprised to learn that surplices possessed
pockets.
The young rector's face brightened at the next name on his list--Pete
Noyes. Of course a boy and a pocket would not long remain unacquainted.
Again he was doomed to disappointment. Pete's dismay when he learned
that there had been an overlooked pocket was convincingly genuine.
"You see," he explained, "I wore it over my pants, of course, and I had
the pockets in them, so I didn't look for no more."
Pete escorted the rector to the "Vawdyville," and by good fortune the
clerical impersonator in the sketch was still on the board, though in a
different act. He instantly and decidedly disclaimed all knowledge of a
pocket.
"It's like that game," grinned Pete. "Button, button, who's got the
button?"
"Yes," agreed John, with a sigh, "only in this case I fear I shall
continue to be 'it.'"
The brakeman, when he came in from his run, was located and he joined in
the blockade that was conspiring against John's future happiness.
The clothes-line thief was very sensitive on the subject, and felt
greatly aggrieved that he should be accused of picking his own pocket,
for he protested that he had "found" the garment. The fancied
insinuation indeed was so strongly resented that John wondered if it
might not be a proverbial case of "hit birds flutter."
Neither police nor court of justice had examined the pocket; nor had
they been aware of the existence of one. The bishop could throw no light
on the missing article, and this call ended the successless tour of
investigation.
"It was truly a profitable investment for the Jenkins family," thought
John, "but a sorry one for me."
Having now wended his weary and unavailing way into all the places
listed, John made his final report to Colette who remained adamant in
her resolve.
"Of course some of those people did find it," she maintained. "It stands
to reason they must have done so, and it is up to you now to find out
which one of them is the guilty person."
"How can I find that out, Colette?"
"How? Anyhow!" she replied, her mien betraying great triumph at her
powers of logic.
"It must be found!" she asserted with a distinct air of finality. "And
until it is found--"
She stopped abruptly.
"Was it of value? No, I am not trying to find out what it was since you
don't wish me to know, but if I knew its value, it might help me to
decide who would be the most likely to have a motive for taking it. But
my belief is that the article slipped from the pocket and is lost."
"It must be found then" she persisted obstinately.
John went home to ponder over his hopeless task. It remained for
Amarilly with her optimistic spirit to cheer him.
"It'll turn up some place whar you never looked fer it and when you
ain't thinkin' nuthin' about it," she asserted believingly. "Lost things
allers do."
Despite her philosophy she was greatly distressed over the disappearance
of the mysterious article whose loss was keeping John so unhappy. She
ransacked the house from the cellar to the Boarder's room, but found no
trace of it.
"I wonder what it was," she mused.
"Mebby Miss King dreamt she put something in there, and when could she
have done it anyhow? Mebby she give him a present, and he slipped it in
there and fergot to take it out when he sent it to us. But then it would
have come out in the wash. She don't seem to feel so bad as he does--
jest sorter stubborn about it."
The members of the household were put through the third degree, but each
declared his innocence in the matter.
"'Twas most likely Iry took it," said Cory, who found the baby a
convenient loophole for any accusations, "and most likely he hez
swallered it."
Gus persisted in his oft-repeated statement, that there was nothing in
the pocket when it was hung up during quarantine. This assurance was
conveyed to Colette by John, who hoped she might find solace in the
thought that none of the renters could have had it, if this were true,
but to his chagrin she found in his information an implied reflection on
her veracity.
"Colette," he said whimsically, "only three persons connected with this
affair have taken my remarks as personal, you, Brother Washington, and
the thief."
With this remark John, despairing of his ability to fathom the mystery
of the article or to follow the caprices of Colette, dropped the matter
completely.