CHAPTER XVII

THE GIRL IN THE RED TAM

There was an undercurrent of excitement at Burnett & Burnett’s on that sunny Monday morning. Every clerk in the store had either read or heard of the article in the Sunday paper. There was much conjecture as to the identity of the beauty who had purloined the goods and then returned them to Mr. Burnett.

“It sounds like they were talking about me,” said Gertie Wheelan, patting her permanent wave complacently. “That is, all but me being a thief. Min knows I never took a bunch of lace off her counter because when she missed it I was standing right here by her.”

“Of course I know you didn’t, Gertie,” laughed Min, “but the fact that you were standing near me when I missed it isn’t very good evidence that you didn’t take it. I reckon your character is about the best evidence that you didn’t take it. You are a vain old goose, Gertie, but everybody knows you are as honest as you are vain, and that is going some.”

Gertie did not know whether to be complimented or not, but since it was pleasanter to be flattered than to be censured she decided to be flattered.

“I’ve a great mind to ask old Simp who it was,” whispered Min.

“I already did that,” put in Jane Morton, “and he had the cheek to pretend he did not know what I was talking about. You see no names are mentioned in the paper. He hummed and hawed and stuck out his chest and patted his white waistcoat and said: ‘Really, my dear young lady, I cannot conjecture er--er’ and he swelled up a little more and went on: ‘Of course I cannot deny that I know what is going on in this establishment, but prudence compels me to dissemble er--er--to dissemble.’”

The girls all laughed at Jane’s droll mimicry.

“Have you had a chance to ask Josie O’Gorman what she thinks?” asked Min. “Josie is a mighty wise little girl and I betcher she has her own thinks on this subject just as she has on every other.”

“Yes, I asked her,” replied Jane, “and she just laughed and said maybe she was the wicked beauty her own self. She said she might as well be because old Simpson had never taken his eye off her the whole morning. Sure enough, there the old fellow was, circling around the notion counter glaring all the time at Josie. I don’t see how she stands it. I’d have to call him down and either make him quit his foolishness or offer some explanation. Josie went on making sales and paid no attention to him except once when he came close up to her she ducked under the counter so she could relax into a giggle.”

The girls had met for a moment near the cashier’s desk. Similar groups were forming and breaking through the entire building.

“Who do you think it is?” was asked again and again.

Now and then some know-all would make a positive assertion such as: “I know on good authority who it is but I am not at liberty to divulge the name.”

“Look!” and Min nudged Jane Morton. “There’s Mr. Theodore Burnett talking to Josie O’Gorman. Old Simpson has left the floor. I saw him going up on the elevator. I wonder what our junior member wants with Josie. Look! She is evidently getting leave from the head of the department. Jiminy crickets! If she isn’t leaving with the boss!”

Min was right. Josie was leaving the floor with Mr. Theodore. The information Mrs. Leslie had telephoned must be treated seriously and without delay. The police must be warned and Josie felt the time had come for a search warrant to be issued on the Kambourians. She accompanied Mr. Burnett to his office and soon had the police station on the line.

“Any report from the detectives watching 11, Meadow Street?” she asked.

“Nothing doing there!” was the answer from the man at the desk.

“Well, I have inside information that the woman is packing up, so you better get a search warrant ready and keep a close watch on the premises,” she commanded. “Don’t let the men leave their post for a moment.”

“Hump!” grumbled the police sergeant, “anybody would think--” But what anybody would think was lost on Josie who hung up the receiver with a click.

“Asleep at the switch as usual!” she exclaimed. “But I must hurry back to my counter. I wish that old Major Simpson would get busy and help me instead of circling around me with his eyes hanging out on his cheeks.”

“Shall I make him stop?” asked Mr. Burnett.

“Oh no, perhaps he is safer watching me than he would be helping me. Anyhow that Jimmy Blaine is on the job all right. He has been popping in and out of the store all morning pretending to buy socks and ties and matching ribbons for his imaginary wife. He is a clever lad. I have a notion I’d better give up selling things for a while if you will supply a girl for my counter.”

“Indeed, yes!” agreed Mr. Theodore.

When Josie did not return to her duties of selling notions the girls at the neighboring counters commented on it.

“Do you reckon she’s been shipped?” wondered one.

“Hardly--she’s too good at the business and as regular as clock work.”

“It’s funny she went off with the boss and has been gone an age and no sign of her. I do hope she isn’t in any trouble. Look! There’s a green girl at the button counter!”

“Whatcher reckon is the matter? That old Simp is at the bottom of it I betcher. He’s been bugging his eyes out at Josie for ever so long. Look, there he is back again. He looks worried over something.” Thus spoke Min, but her flow of eloquence was cut short by a customer demanding to see some Irish lace.

“The best is none too good for me,” asserted the customer sharply. She was a young woman with bobbed black hair very much becurled, a mouth so painted it gave one the impression that she had been eating poke berries, cheeks to match not only lips but a string of red, red beads twisted several times around her throat and hanging to her waist. In her hand she carried a bright red swagger stick. Her hat--a red tam--was worn far on one side. Brows and lashes were blackened to match the blue-black hair.

“Sure!” said Min demurely. “The best is none too good but it may be too costly,” she muttered under her breath.

“Never mind the cost--that is my affair. Ah, this is very sweet,” she said, pulling out a bunch of the costly lace and spreading it out on the counter. “But show me other widths and patterns. Have you any point d’esprit?”

“No, we have no point d’esprit,” said Min with ill concealed impatience. Her lunch hour had struck and she felt it was hard lines to be forced to show this painted flapper expensive lace that she was sure she had no idea of buying.

“Some duchesse, too,” demanded the determined shopper. “Nothing better than that?”

Poor Min was forced to produce more and better lace. The counter was strewn with boxes of the priceless merchandise. Miss Fauntleroy was ready to go out for luncheon. She paused for a moment to speak to Min. All she said was:

“Is not the store clock slow?”

Min looked up from the lace she was showing the possible purchaser and compared her wrist watch with the large time piece hanging on the opposite wall.

“I guess not,” she said, and resumed her labors.

Miss Fauntleroy proceeded leisurely towards the front door. The much made-up young person who had been so intent on lace, without one word to Min, turned and followed the haughty beauty. The aisles were crowded with shoppers but the bobbed haired, red mouthed flapper kept close behind Miss Fauntleroy.

Outside in the sunshine the dark beggar with a patch over one eye sat and in a wheedling tone besought the passers-by to buy his pencils.

“Ver-r-y fine--ver-r-y sharp--” he quavered. “Buy--sweet lady--buy.” His one eye had appeal enough for two. Many persons dropped coins in his outstretched hat.

Miss Fauntleroy stopped in front of him.

“Buy sweet lady--buy a pencil--” She stooped to select one from the box of red, white and blue pencils he held on his knees. From that moment astonishing things began to happen, both within and without the department store of Burnett & Burnett’s.

Within a sudden hue and cry was raised by the distracted Min.

“Catch her! Catch her quick!” she cried to Major Simpson who was still walking curiously and cautiously around the notion counter, as though he expected Josie to bob up at any moment from behind the counter.

“Catch what? Catch whom?”

“That girl with the bobbed black hair in a red tam and red beads!” screamed Min. “She’s ‘klept’ a whole bunch of lace--two bunches--maybe three--the finest in the shop. At least I reckon she did it. Go after her and get her. Don’t stand still. I can’t go myself because I’ve got to keep an eye on all this stuff.”

Major Simpson trotted obediently towards the front entrance. This was a new turn of affairs--a shoplifter and not the elusive Josie. He bumped into Mr. Theodore Burnett in the aisle.

“Another thief!” he spluttered. “Girl with bobbed black hair and red beads. Lace again--front entrance--better come with me!”