A FIENDISH PROPOSITION.
When Faith left the car Bob Hardy followed her. He made no attempt to
conceal the fact that he was watching her, and when Faith had reached
the middle of a block of vacant lots he quickened his steps and was soon
beside her.
"Just a minute, miss," he said, tapping her lightly on the shoulder.
Faith wheeled around and confronted him with cold dignity.
"Well, what do you wish with me, sir?" she asked quietly. "I noticed
that you were following me. Have you had orders to do so?"
"Not exactly, miss," said the detective, a little disconcertedly, "but
you are in a pretty bad fix over that money affair, and I just thought
I'd put you on your guard as a sort of favor."
"What?"
Faith's voice fairly vibrated with indignation. "Explain yourself, sir.
I do not understand you?"
"Oh, if you insist," said the detective with a disagreeable leer, "I
won't be so unkind as to disappoint a lady."
He stepped a little to one side as he spoke, and his eyes wandered
scrutinizingly over Faith's lovely face and figure.
"You see," he continued, "you are badly tangled up in that affair at the
office; in fact, to be plain, Mr. Forbes thinks that you stole the five
hundred dollars, and it will go hard with you when he gets back to biz;
that's why I wanted to warn you."
"Indeed!"
Faith's head towered above the detective's as she spoke.
"You are very kind, Mr. Detective; but, as I have stolen no money, nor
anything else, I have no fear of Mr. Forbes, or any need of your most
extraordinary warning. You will please allow me to pass and not follow
me any farther. It is no sign because I am working in a store that I am
not a lady and entitled to courtesy."
She started to pass him, but with a stride the fellow was before her.
"Not so fast, my fine lady," he cried with a sneer. "You don't know me,
I guess. I don't let thieves escape me so easily."
"How dare you?" cried Faith, her face flaming with anger.
"Oh, I dare anything," retorted the detective, "especially where my
reputation is at stake! I've got orders from Forbes to catch that thief,
and, as you are the easiest bird to catch, I'm just going to bag
you--that's all there is about it. I'll swear that I found this wad of
bills in your pocket, see!"
He drew a roll of money from his pocket and flourished it before her as
he spoke.
"Oh, you would never be so wicked, so dastardly, as that!" cried Faith.
"Have you no sense of honor, no manliness about you?"
Her words were so appealing that the detective winced a little. His keen
eyes shifted uneasily. He could not face her.
"I offered to warn you," he muttered at last. "There's a way out of the
fix if you are a mind to take it."
"But I am in no fix!" protested Faith. "I have done no wrong! How dare
you accuse me!"
The detective went on as though she had not spoken.
"There's a way out of it, miss; you have only to say the word. I know a
gent that's in love with you this very minute. He'll fix things with old
Forbes--he's got lots of dough. Just you promise to be agreeable and
I'll hush the whole thing up to-morrow."
As he made this fiendish suggestion he eyed the girl sharply.
Each change in her expression seemed to render her more beautiful. For a
moment she was dazed and almost powerless to speak, then, as a great
wave of color swept up to her very brow, she fairly hissed her answer
in a scorching whisper.
"You coward! You cur! Go at once and leave me! Make what accusations you
like--I am afraid of you no longer! In God will I place my trust, and He
will not forsake me! Go, I say, and think well over what you are doing.
Remember that there is One above you who is watching your evil deeds and
as surely as He will punish the wicked so will He protect the innocent!"
As she spoke the last words she walked hastily away.
Bob Hardy stared after her stupidly, but did not attempt to follow her.
"Well, what did she say?" asked a voice at his elbow.
A well-dressed man of middle age had walked slowly across the street and
stood waiting impatiently for Hardy's answer.
The detective drew a long breath and shrugged his shoulders a little.
"Oh, she's a high flyer," he answered, cautiously. "It will take time to
clip her wings and tame her, captain, but don't you worry a bit. I'll
earn your fifty dollars."
"As you have earned several other fifties," said the "captain," smiling.
"Oh, well, you are in the right place for just such work. It's dead easy
for you, Hardy. Why, those girls would all of them jump at the chance of
getting out from behind those counters, but the deuce of it is that it's
only the new ones who are pretty."
"Well, you've picked out the prettiest now, all right," laughed Hardy.
"But I expect I shall have to scare her a little. She's not only proud
as Lucifer, but she's chock full of religion. Says God will protect her
and all that sort of thing."
The well-dressed "captain" threw back his head and roared.
"God will trouble Himself a lot about her, I'm thinking," he said,
chuckling. "He is so given to looking after those half-starved
creatures! Why, the Devil is the shop girls' best friend, if they only
knew it."
"He stands by us pretty well, too, eh! captain?" said Hardy. "But I must
be getting home, as I live way over in Jersey. I'll report to-morrow
night at your place downtown. She'll be less religious by that time if
she sees that God has gone back on her, I guess."
"You mean that you will press the charge against her and have them send
her to jail? That's going pretty far, Hardy; but I'll leave it to your
judgment."
"Oh, pshaw! She'll be tractable before it comes to that pass, captain.
I've seen girls before. I know how to handle 'em."
The two men parted, Hardy going to his home in Jersey, while the man
whom he had called "captain" went in the direction of Fifth avenue.
When he arrived at his magnificent bachelor apartments he let himself in
with a latch-key. His colored valet was busy in one of the rooms packing
his master's clothing into two traveling bags.
"Well, Dave," said the captain, gayly, "we will have a fine trip South,
I fancy; but don't hurry with that packing. Let it go for a day. I've
decided not to start as soon as I intended."
"All right, sah; I'll drop it right quick, sah," said the negro. "Yere's
a letter, sah, dat was brung 'bout an hour ago. I dun tole de boy dat
you would anser it at your leesyur, sah."
Captain Paul Deering laughed at his servant's language. Dave always used
big words and the most extravagant manners when he came in contact with
other people's servants.
"By Jove!" exclaimed the captain, as he opened the letter. "It's from my
lawyer, Dave, telling me that my sister has been found. She is living
here in the city, and is a widow with one daughter."
"Yo' doan' say so, sah!"
Dave was standing with his mouth wide open to indicate his interest in
the news. He had been with the captain so long that he was very deep in
his confidences.
"Yes, she's here in town, and has been for years, and to think I've been
here, too, and didn't know it! You see, Dave, I ran away from home when
she was only a young girl. When the home was broken up I lost track of
her completely. Now there's a snug little fortune waiting for her that
she should have had five years ago, but perhaps it's just as well it's
been accumulating interest all the time."
"An' yourn has bin a losin' interes'," replied the negro, grinning. "I
neber see money slip troo' a man's fingers so fas' as it do troo' yourn,
capting, dat's a fac'."
"Oh, I get the worth of it as I go along, Dave," laughed the captain,
"but I suppose I've got to go out again now and call on my new-found
sister."
He glanced at the address which the lawyer had given him.
"Pshaw! That's too bad," he said, impatiently. "If I had only known this
two hours sooner! Why, I've just come from that very locality, and it's
way up in Harlem."
As he reached for his hat there was a sharp ring at his door-bell.
"Dat's Dr. Graham, sah; I knows dat ring ob his," said the valet
quickly. "Dat mean, sah, you doan' call on no sister dis ebenin'."