they're made special by second-hand shops for the female party trade.

"Well?" says I, lookin' her over cold and curious.

But you can't faze a female party so simple. They're used to that. She stares back at me just as cool, and then remarks, "I guess you know who I am well enough."

"Sure!" says I. "You're the long lost Duchess of Gainsborough, ain't you?"

She just gazes at me brassy and shakes her head.

"Then you must be a lady snake agent," says I.69

69

"What?" says she, scowlin' puzzled.

"I don't know the answer, either," says I. "Called for Professor McCabe, didn't you? Well, you're connected. Shoot the rest of it."

"I'm Mrs. Fletcher Shaw," says she.

And for a minute there I couldn't place the name. Then it came to me. "Oh!" says I. "Some relation of Josie Vernon's, eh?"

"Suppose I am?" she demands, eyin' me suspicious.

"Tut, tut, now!" says I. "You're the one that's occupyin' the witness stand, you know. You were about to tell why you came."

"Was I?" says she. "You might guess that: you've had a man pryin' and snoopin' around my flat for two days."

I gawps at her for a second, and then chuckles. "You mean a classy-dressed gent with whiskers?" says I.

She nods.

"Mr. J. Bayard Steele," says I. "He's the one to see. He'll give you all the partic'lars."

"Humph!" says she, sniffin'. "What does he want of Josie Vernon? What's his game?"

"Deeds of kindness, that's all," says I.

 Prev. P 41/197 next