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 SYLVIA STOOD A MOMENT LOST IN THOUGHT. 
 
 Frontispiece, 
 
 p. 92
 
 
 THE LURE 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE SCARBOROUGH 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS FROM 
 SCENES IN THE PLAY 
 
 G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS NEW YORK
 
 
 COPYRIGHT. 1914, BY 
 G. W. DILLINGHAM COMPANY 
 
 The L^e 
 
 Frew of 
 J. J. Little A Ire* Co. 
 
 New York
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PACE 
 
 1 7 
 
 II 16 
 
 III 29 
 
 IV 43 
 
 V 66 
 
 VI 80 
 
 VII 93 
 
 VIII 115 
 
 IX 131 
 
 X 149 
 
 XI 164 
 
 XII 177 
 
 XIII 193 
 
 XIV 204 
 
 XV 217 
 
 XVI 232 
 
 XVII 246 
 
 XVIII . 291 
 
 21326SO
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PACT 
 
 Sylvia stood a moment lost in thought . . . Frontispiece 92 
 " No harm has ever come to me, mother, has it ?" ... 91 
 
 "A hundred dollars means, to me, my mother's life; and to 
 
 get it I'll do anything, anything ! " 163 
 
 " You are going to forget you ever had a name or a home or 
 
 a mother " 242 
 
 "Get out of my way there! This girl is going with me ". . 270 
 
 Paul turned on him venomously. "My pals '11 get you for 
 
 this!" 289
 
 THE LURE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THERE was something- unusual about her eyes. 
 MacAuley realized that the first time that 
 he ever met her; and yet to save his life he 
 never could explain their particular peculiarity to 
 himself. They were the eyes of a very pretty girl, 
 for Sylvia was an exceedingly pretty girl. As 
 pretty as any in all the rank and file of the big de- 
 partment store. 
 
 Long before he even came to know that her name 
 was Sylvia and that didn't happen until she had 
 been enshrined in his heart for several months, 
 those eyes of hers and the potency of them worried 
 him night and day. This was proved that first day 
 of all when he saw her at the silk stocking counter. 
 It was immediately after that chance glimpse of her 
 
 that Bob MacAuley committed an idiosyncrasy 
 
 7
 
 8 THE LURE 
 
 which continued to amaze him all the rest of his 
 life. Why he did it he never knew. And what he 
 did was this : after catching his one fleeting glimpse 
 of Sylvia he walked deliberately out of the shop 
 and across the street to a jeweler's shop. There 
 were a number of silver photograph frames in the 
 window. He looked them over carefully. All of 
 them, save one, contained photographs of actresses. 
 This single empty frame caught his eye and al- 
 lured him very much as Sylvia's deep eyes had done 
 a few moments before. 
 
 He went into the shop and asked to be shown the 
 frame. They brought it to him. "How much is 
 it?" he asked the salesman. "Forty-six dollars," 
 was the answer. "Wrap it up," said MacAuley, as 
 he dug down into his clothes. He carried the pic- 
 ture frame home with him and placed it on the 
 mantelpiece in the "den" of his Harlem bachelor 
 apartment. Then leaning his arm on the mantel- 
 piece he apostrophized it as though it were an old 
 friend. Of course, MacAuley could never have 
 done this if he had possessed a sense of humor, but
 
 THE LURE 
 
 humor was one of the things in which he was in- 
 ordinately lacking, and then he said: "I wonder 
 which of us looks the bigger fool me looking into 
 your empty face or you looking blankly at me with 
 nothing but the filigree work on the edge of you to 
 make an impression ? But we might as well get ac- 
 quainted here and now, because we have got to see 
 this thing through together. It may take a long 
 time, so we may just as well get acquainted with 
 each other. There is never going to be any picture 
 in you but one, and that's the face of the girl at the 
 silk-stocking counter. 
 
 "Damn it !" he exclaimed abruptly, hitting his fist 
 on the edge of the mantelpiece, "you might as well 
 know the whole truth at once. I am going to marry 
 that girl. I don't even know her name, but she has 
 got to marry me just the same, and you have got to 
 stand there empty and vacant until I have won her. 
 It may take years, but some day she'll be in that 
 frame. 
 
 And, so saying, MacAuley turned from the photo-
 
 10 THE LURE 
 
 graph frame and, feeling distinctly ashamed of his 
 sentimental soliloquy, promptly went to bed. 
 
 But not to sleep, for that night, and for many 
 another, he was haunted by Sylvia's eyes. At times 
 he felt like kicking himself. The experience was 
 new for a detective, high in the good graces of the 
 Department of Justice, whose work in the course 
 of a single year had thrown him in contact with a 
 more motley and varied assortment of women than 
 were encountered by the average man in the course 
 of a lifetime, and yet, what was the use, here he was, 
 madly in love with a girl whom he had seen only 
 once, and whose name he didn't even know. It 
 wasn't a case of looking forward to some mild flirta- 
 tion with her when he met her. From that first mo- 
 ment he had known one thing absolutely. That 
 was, that this girl was to be his wife. "I have 
 known all sorts of women," he said to himself one 
 night as he lay in bed, "and I am about as good a 
 judge of feminine character as most men, but if 
 ever I saw purity and sweetness and tenderness 
 symbolized in a woman's eyes by Jove! If I had
 
 THE LURE 11 
 
 seen that woman for the first time in a jail or in a 
 common dance hall I would have staked my life that 
 she was good and pure. Why, mother's going to 
 love that girl," and he biffed the pillow as though 
 it had presumed to contradict him. "I can just see 
 the two of them together. What pals they'll make, 
 and then, later on, if the kiddies came oh, gee 
 whiz ! it's too good to think about." So he turned 
 over and went to sleep, but in the morning, with his 
 first waking thoughts, the girl at the silk-stocking 
 counter and his mother were still linked in his mind. 
 "That's a bully idea," he said as he jumped into his 
 bath. "I'm glad I thought of that. Mother loves 
 silk stockings, and I haven't sent her any for at 
 least a year." 
 
 Eleven o'clock found him at the store again, and 
 three days later his mother in a small up-state town 
 was amazed to receive, without any explanation, a 
 dozen pairs of black silk hose. Sylvia had picked 
 them out for her herself, but, unfortunately for 
 Bob, their acquaintance had not taken the least step 
 forward. She had treated him exactly like any
 
 THE LURE 
 
 other customer, but deep down in his heart Bob 
 knew that he had made a very good impression. 
 After that, at short intervals, MacAuley recalled 
 various aunts of his whom he hadn't even thought 
 of in years. Now he suddenly recollected that they 
 doted on silk stockings, too; so each of them in due 
 course was amazed and delighted to receive an un- 
 expected Christmas gift from their nephew Bob in 
 the middle of summer. The short note of explana- 
 tion which accompanied each of these gifts really 
 conveyed nothing to these ancient ladies beyond the 
 fact that Bob always was a dear soul, and to be 
 able to dispense such charming luxuries he must 
 certainly be doing well. But still the acquaintance 
 went no further. Sylvia always smiled at him de- 
 murely, modestly, just as she did on all her other 
 regular customers. Once he even spoke about the 
 weather, but she instantly became so monosyllabic 
 that he felt distinctly thwarted. Finally he turned 
 his attention to Emma, the little hunchback who 
 presided at the glove counter just across the aisle. 
 Emma was an institution at the store. Moreover,
 
 THE LURE 13 
 
 she was a conversationalist. She and Bob soon be- 
 came great friends. It was through Emma that he 
 learned eventually that his idol's first name was 
 Sylvia, and that the remainder of her cognomen 
 was Jones. This was merely a particle of the great 
 fund of information about Sylvia which Emma 
 poured voluntarily into his willing ears. For one 
 thing Emma assured him that Sylvia was her very 
 dearest friend, and when Emma said that it meant 
 something, because the cheery hearted little soul, by 
 her bright face and chirpy little manner, had won 
 the affection of, and was really on more than speak- 
 ing terms with every woman in the city who was 
 really worth knowing, from the newest Mrs. Van- 
 derbilt to Anna Held and Gaby Deslys. Multimil- 
 lionairesses took Emma to drive in their motor cars, 
 and one very famous actress always wafted her 
 away to her country place for a two weeks' rest in 
 the summer time. Consequently, when Emma as- 
 sured MacAuley that Sylvia was the dearest girl 
 she knew it really did mean something. Bob real- 
 ized this and listened to her with profound attention
 
 14 THE LURE 
 
 while she talked to him of Sylvia. She was very, 
 very poor Sylvia was, according to Emma, and 
 her mother was a great invalid, that was why Sylvia 
 never went anywhere; why she never had a good 
 time and never even used the free theater tickets 
 which were distributed so lavishly throughout the 
 store when any of the Broadway managers were in 
 need of audiences. Sylvia never went anywhere, 
 and Emma thought that it really was too bad. 
 
 And then there came a day a day that MacAuley 
 will never forget the day that he caught his last 
 glimpse of her. He had entered the store, intending 
 to buy some more silk stockings, but seeing that 
 Sylvia was busily engrossed with a lady customer 
 he turned away and chatted with Emma. After- 
 ward the picture of the woman whom Sylvia was 
 serving stood out strongly in his mind. For some 
 reason he detested her, he loathed her. She was a 
 woman, forty perhaps, very plainly dressed in a 
 severe but well-cut walking suit, and as he last saw 
 her she was leaning across the counter smiling into 
 Sylvia's face and handing her a visiting card. Mac-
 
 THE LURE 15 
 
 Auley turned and left the store. But somehow 
 after that, whenever he thought of Sylvia, the vision 
 of this woman seemed to rise between them menac- 
 ingly like a wraith. The next time that he dropped 
 in at the store there was another girl in Sylvia's 
 place at the silk stocking counter, and when Mac- 
 Auley turned to Emma for information, for once, 
 in a way, the little hunchback was uncommunicative, 
 almost silent. All that she would say was that Miss 
 Jones had left. She did not know where she had 
 gone to but that one fact was enough for Bob. 
 Sylvia had gone.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 "Tell me the truth, doctor, I want to know I 
 must know for Sylvia's sake as well as my own. 
 You must tell me the truth now." The sweet face of 
 the middle-aged woman, framed in its prematurely 
 gray hair, looked pleadingly into Dr. Goldberg's 
 face. "Yes, yes, of course," said the doctor evasive- 
 ly, as, with his hands clasped behind his back, 
 he walked up and down the tenement house sitting 
 room. The room itself fairly shrieked of better 
 days. The stamp of bitter poverty lay over it all 
 like a pall. The one spot of color left in the room 
 was a little stand filled with pots of geraniums in 
 full bloom which stood on the sill of the fire escape. 
 There had been pictures on the wall once, you could 
 see that by the marks upon the wall paper, but they, 
 like the old family sofa, the Davenport, even the 
 writing desk, had long since gone to the pawnshop, 
 
 and the doctor himself, save for his cheery disposi- 
 
 16
 
 THE LURE 17 
 
 tion, was of a pattern with the room. He was 
 white-haired, a Hebrew and sixty. His clothes, 
 though neat, were shabby and worn, but the twinkle 
 in his eye and the smile which his face wore almost 
 invariably made you forget all about his clothes. 
 Just at the moment, however, the doctor was far 
 from smiling. His heart was wrung with pity for 
 the gentle little woman who was trying so hard 
 to pin him down to the brutal facts. 
 
 "Yes, yes, of course," he repeated again, and 
 then, leaving his sentence unfinished, he walked to 
 the window and gazed down into the courtyard, 
 where hordes of foreign-looking children were 
 shrieking at their play. 
 
 "Please, now, doctor, I am quite prepared for 
 the worst. I am not afraid." 
 
 The doctor turned from the window and looked 
 at Mrs. Jones with kindly, wistful eyes. "Although 
 the world is full of liars, there are but few of us 
 who do not prefer to listen to the truth. Dot's so, 
 ain't it, Mrs. Jones, yes?" 
 
 "But you promised to tell me the truth to-day."
 
 18 THE LURE 
 
 "I tell it every day, my dear; that is, I try to. Of 
 course, occasionally a man's tongue will slip shust 
 like his foot, or his grip on the temperance pledge." 
 
 "Ah, but, doctor," interrupted the woman. 
 
 "Slipping too often is very bad for everybody," 
 continued the doctor. "Now, I used to know a man 
 about twenty years ago who couldn't even tell the 
 truth without lying. He was the worst " 
 
 Mrs. Jones raised her hands deprecatingly. 
 
 "I know you don't want to tell me, but I want to 
 know, and I am prepared to know the worst." She 
 paused for a moment. The doctor leaned down and 
 taking her thin, little hand in both of his, patted it 
 softly. "Yes, my dear," he said, "I guess you ought 
 to know." 
 
 He paused for a moment and turned his head 
 away from the woman's steadfast gaze. "Von of 
 the most difficult t'ings a doctor has to do is to de- 
 cide just when it's fair and safe to tell a patient the 
 absolute truth." 
 
 "I know that, doctor; please go on." 
 
 "Under proper conditions you still got a fighting
 
 THE LURE 19 
 
 chance, Mrs. Jones; not an even chance, mind you 
 shust an odd chance. But a good fighter vill al- 
 ways give odds." 
 
 "Yes, yes, that's true," said the woman calmly. 
 "I've had the odds against me nearly all my life, 
 doctor, you know that. This room proclaims it, 
 doesn't it," she exclaimed with a wan smile. 
 
 "Now, the operation itself is not dangerous. Ve 
 get it done at the hospital. You vill get along very 
 well in the hospital, I have no doubt, vile you are 
 there. But to bring you back here to convalesce 
 here, here to be stifled by dis foul air and shut in 
 by dese vails, vare de sunshine can't ever find you, 
 and vare God Himself can only do it by looking 
 
 cross vays down an air shaft " The doctor 
 
 paused again and shook his head. 
 
 "No, no," he exclaimed ; "the odds are too great. 
 You vould die in a veek, Mrs. Jones." 
 
 Neither spoke for a moment after that, then the 
 woman looked up smilingly and said : 
 
 "I'm willing to risk it, doctor." For the first
 
 20 THE LURE 
 
 time the doctor frowned. "But I'm not villing to 
 have you risk it. It vould be suicide." 
 
 "But, doctor, you know as well as I do the trip 
 to the country is out of the question." 
 
 "Ve vill put it in the question then." 
 
 "You know perfectly well we haven't the money." 
 
 "It vouldn't cost very much," argued the doctor. 
 
 "Very much," echoed the woman. "Why, doctor, 
 anything is more than we have at present; and I 
 can't see any chance of assistance from any quarter 
 except for the money that Sylvia earns at the 
 shop " 
 
 "And I haven't got it, either," interrupted the 
 doctor. "And I can't get it no more than you, be- 
 cause you know if I could ve'd be hurrying you 
 away to-morrow." 
 
 "God bless you, doctor, I know you would. 
 You've always been too good to Sylvia and me." 
 
 "Not as good as I vould have been if I could have 
 been any better. I'm a very poor man myself, but 
 I have this consolation," he went on smilingly, "I 
 am poor by accident, not by design. I t'ink if I had
 
 THE LURE 21 
 
 fife dollars all at one time I vouldn't know myself." 
 
 The woman gave a little laugh. "Come, come," 
 she said, "you are wandering from the point again. 
 Let's get back to my troubles, doctor." 
 
 He drew a chair from the table and sat down be- 
 side Mrs. Jones. "Do you know, the only times I 
 vish I vas rich is ven I see a few dollars standing 
 between somebody and good health possibly be- 
 tween dem and life. It's then I vish I vas a multi- 
 millionaire shust for a few days. And, believe me, 
 you wouldn't find me spending my money building 
 art galleries and public libraries, either." 
 
 "But you have already given your life to the 
 poor, doctor, surely that's more than money." 
 
 "Veil, it vas my own life, vasn't it?" retorted the 
 doctor indignantly. "I could do vat I pleased with 
 it, I guess." 
 
 "Of course you could," laughed the woman; "and 
 to other nationalities and religions, you've always 
 been a cosmopolitan in your philanthropies, doctor." 
 
 "Veil, vy not, my dear? Don't you know the 
 measles makes a Gentile boy shust as speckled as a
 
 22 THE LURE 
 
 Hebrew? And if the whooping cough don't know 
 no religion, vy should I, shust a mere doctor?" 
 
 "But some of them do, all the same. There isn't 
 one doctor in ten thousand who has given his life 
 to the poor as you have done." 
 
 The doctor shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Dat's vid their own conscience. Huh ! as for me, 
 I'm happy, I'm veil, I sleep veil, I eat veil not so 
 often sometimes perhaps; but den ven I do it's a 
 luxury. And I enjoy a good smoke always. Now, 
 my dear Mrs. Jones, what more is there in life for 
 me?" 
 
 While they had been talking the light from the 
 single gas jet had been growing dimmer and dim- 
 mer. It was now so near a flicker that Mrs. Jones 
 was obliged to lay down her crochet work. As she 
 did so the doctor turned and glared menacingly at 
 the burner. "Huh ! de gas pressure is mighty veak 
 to-night, it seems to me." 
 
 Mrs. Jones looked disconcerted. She gave a 
 nervous little laugh and exclaimed : "To tell you the
 
 THE LURE 23 
 
 truth, doctor, I think the meter needs a little more 
 of the money we haven't got." 
 
 Instinctively the doctor thrust his hand into his 
 trousers' pocket, but the blank expression which sud- 
 denly suffused his face showed that his search had 
 proved futile. "By Gott !" he exclaimed irritatedly, 
 "vot a vorld it is, even der damn machines get hun- 
 gry for money. Can't I put the quarter in for 
 you?" he asked, turning toward her. 
 
 The woman rose with a gesture of apology. "I'm 
 afraid we will have to wait until Sylvia comes, doc- 
 tor. Even if we have to sit in the dark." 
 
 "Oh, no, ve von't have to vait, either," he ex- 
 claimed, while his hands made another frantic 
 search of his coat and waistcoat pockets. 
 
 In one of these pockets he found a few small 
 coins. 
 
 "No, no, doctor, I wouldn't take them for the 
 world," she exclaimed, as she saw his intention; 
 "and, after all, we shan't have to sit in the dark 
 there's still a little oil in the lamp."
 
 THE LURE 
 
 "Nonsense; it's shust a little loan, my dear. You 
 ought to be ashamed to refuse me." ^ 
 
 She turned to the table and lighted the lamp 
 which immediately flickered almost as weakly as the 
 gas burner had done. 
 
 "You really mustn't," said the woman; "you need 
 all your pennies for yourself." 
 
 The old man turned toward her with a quizzical 
 smile, the coin still there in his outstretched palm. 
 "You would really rather that I vouldn't?" he 
 asked, as though thinking rather better of the bar- 
 gain himself. 
 
 "Certainly, I would not allow you to." 
 
 "Dat's good ; your decision is a great relief to me, 
 Mrs. Jones," he exclaimed with mock dignity, "be- 
 cause now I must tell you I haf only dventy-two 
 cents. I guess I overestimated myself. I t'ought I 
 had dventy-seven. I vender vot happened to that 
 other nickel ? It didn't go for a beer, because I ain't 
 had a beer since last Sunday." 
 
 "Never mind, doctor; the lamp will do splen- 
 didly."
 
 THE LURE 25 
 
 "Vy do dey charge dventy-five cents for dese 
 meters, anyvay?" exclaimed the doctor angrily. "I 
 don't see vy dey don't make fife-cent meters 
 they've got penny slot machines." 
 
 "They'll probably have to very soon, doctor," 
 smiled the woman; "that is, if they expect to throw 
 any light on us." As she spoke she sat down in 
 the rocking chair again and her face became seri- 
 ous. 
 
 Divining her intention, the doctor, in order to 
 put off the evil moment, exclaimed, "I vender vot I 
 did with dot other nickel ; dat's a funny thing about 
 me. I don't mind spending my money, but I like 
 to remember vot I did with it. Now, ven I got up 
 this morning dot nigger vos in my vaistcoat pocket." 
 
 "Doctor," said the woman, coming back to bitter 
 facts, "how long can I live without the operation?" 
 
 "Not over a month." 
 
 "Thank you," said the woman, taking her death 
 warrant with a smile. 
 
 There was something of reverence in the old
 
 26 THE LURE 
 
 man's face as he looked at her. "Vot a philoso- 
 pher !" he exclaimed. 
 
 She shook her head. "It isn't philosophy," she 
 answered. 
 
 "No; vot is it, then?" queried the doctor. 
 
 "It's just faith." 
 
 The doctor shrugged his shoulders and smiled. 
 "My dear lady," he said, "ven you have lived as 
 long as I have you vill know that faith is the mother 
 of philosophy." 
 
 "I don't know about that." There was a little 
 sob in her voice now. "But just for myself I'd wel- 
 come the long sleep gladly to-night. I'm so tired of 
 it all. It's been such a long, long, bitter struggle. 
 After my husband deserted us while Sylvia was still 
 a little thing, it wasn't so bad. There was always 
 something to look forward to the time that she 
 should be grown up, and by that time, of course, I 
 always supposed that things would have taken a 
 turn for the better ; and then, when she did grow up 
 that was the bitterest cut of all, that she should 
 have to go out and earn her living ; that she should
 
 THE LURE 27 
 
 be cut off from all the pleasures and the luxuries 
 and the good times of life which I had known as a 
 young girl ; to have her become what she is just a 
 drudge, a poor little drudge, working her soul out 
 for six dollars a week. So you can't blame me 
 much, can you, when I say that if it wasn't for 
 Sylvia " 
 
 "Ah, but dot's just it," interrupted the doctor. 
 "Sylvia ! You've just got to live for her." 
 
 "But you say I can't," expostulated the mother. 
 
 "In the country you can live," he rejoined; "live 
 beautifully and happily for many, many years. I'd 
 be villing to bet on dot." 
 
 "Ah, but that's hopeless, impossible, out of the 
 question." 
 
 "Now, now," he exclaimed soothingly, "don't be 
 so sure about dot. There's always hope. Hope is 
 the best friend any of us ever had, and we all makes 
 a great mistake that we turn our back on her." 
 
 "Yes, I agree with you there," said the woman 
 more cheerfully. "Who is it says, 'hope is a hen 
 who lays more eggs than she can hatch' ?"
 
 28 THE LURE 
 
 "Some damn ole fool, my dear; don't you believe 
 in him. He's a liar. And even if it vas true, we'd 
 get an incubator then. Ve'll hatch 'em." 
 
 "And then there is another thing, doctor," said 
 the woman drearily. "I am afraid about Sylvia her- 
 self. She isn't well." 
 
 "Doesn't she sleep well?" 
 
 "No, she is up three or four times every night to 
 see if I am comfortable." 
 
 "Veil, my dear," and the doctor spoke with 
 greater earnestness than at any time, "if you ever 
 run out of things to thank the Lord for, shust re- 
 member to thank him for the privilege of having 
 been Sylvia's mother." 
 
 "I do that every day," said the woman fervently. 
 
 There was a knock at the door. 
 
 "Vait," said the doctor rising, "I vill go see." 
 
 On the threshold, as he threw the door open, 
 stood Bob MacAuley.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 They had been talking- of hope, and somehow, 
 as the distracted woman turned toward the doorway 
 and looked for the first time at MacAuley's hand- 
 some, good-natured, earnest face, she felt that hope 
 blew into the room along with him like a breeze. 
 His was a personality so commanding that to a 
 stranger it inspired one of two things : one either 
 trusted Bob MacAuley or feared him. His strong, 
 dominant nature compelled recognition either one 
 way or the other. He was tall, about thirty-five 
 years of age, well proportioned; his manner was 
 rather lazy, but his eyes were never idle for a mo- 
 ment. Before he had been in the room for half a 
 minute he had taken in every detail of the tragedy 
 of the apartment. At sight of him, for the first time 
 in all that weary day, a look of genuine pleasure 
 crept into Mrs. Jones' face. "Come in, sir," she 
 
 said, turning toward him with gentle courtesy. 
 
 29
 
 30 THE LURE 
 
 "What can we do for you ? The doctor and I here 
 have just been talking about hope when your knock 
 came to the door. I hope you are a good omen, 
 sir." 
 
 "I hope so, I am sure," said Bob smilingly, as he 
 bowed to her. "I wanted to speak to the lady of 
 this apartment. Are you Mrs. Jones ?" 
 
 "The lady herself," said the doctor, introducing 
 her with a sweep of his hand. 
 
 "Won't you sit down, sir?" and Mrs. Jones of- 
 fered him a chair. 
 
 "Thank you ; but I will only detain you for a mo- 
 ment," he turned toward the doctor as though to 
 include him in the conversation. "My name is Mac- 
 Auley, Mrs. Jones. I am a Special Agent of the 
 Department of Justice a Government officer " 
 
 "Ah, secret service?" asked the doctor, growing 
 interested at once. 
 
 "Yes, secret, as far as possible," smiled Bob; 
 "though, of course, now and then we have to take 
 good citizens like yourself into our confidence, more 
 or less. Here are my credentials, madam."
 
 THE LURE 31 
 
 As he spoke he placed on the table a small mo- 
 rocco card case. 
 
 Mrs. Jones glanced at it casually, then turned 
 to introduce the doctor. "This is my old friend, 
 Dr. Goldberg, Mr. - -" 
 
 "MacAuley," prompted Bob. 
 
 "Glad to meet you, sir," said the doctor, holding 
 out his hand. 
 
 "Oh, Dr. Goldberg, eh? You live on the floor 
 below, I believe?" 
 
 "Yes, I do; but how did you know that?" queried 
 the doctor. 
 
 MacAuley threw back his head and laughed. 
 "That was very easy. I got both your names from 
 the letter carrier. The postman on this route is an 
 intimate friend of mine." 
 
 "Ah, I see," and the doctor smiled knowingly. 
 
 "We Government officials get a lot of our infor- 
 mation from the postmen," continued Bob. 
 
 "I don't wonder," said the doctor. "They know 
 everything that is going on in the block, and more, 
 too."
 
 32 THE LURE 
 
 "That's true enough; more than the cabmen and 
 the telephone girls combined." 
 
 "I guess that's true, too," laughed the doctor. 
 
 MacAuley turned toward Mrs. Jones. 
 
 "I've a rather peculiar request to make, madam, 
 and I shall have to rely a little bit on your discre- 
 tion." 
 
 "Ah, we've got plenty of discretion," interrupted 
 the doctor. "That's one of the things you don't 
 have to pay for, and ven you've got it, it don't cost 
 you much." 
 
 "Yes, sir; but it's worth a whole lot, all the same," 
 rejoined Bob good humoredly. 
 
 "In what way can I serve you, sir?" asked Mrs. 
 Jones. 
 
 MacAuley became suddenly serious. 
 
 "I believe it is better to be frank, madam. I 
 can explain what I want in a very few words, if you 
 will allow me. I'm engaged on a White Slave case 
 just now. A young girl disappeared from her home 
 in Springfield very mysteriously the other day. Not 
 a word has been heard of her for more than a week.
 
 THE LURE 3S 
 
 Her family and friends are distracted, of course, 
 and her father, who is a wealthy banker, is about 
 to offer a big reward for any information with re- 
 gard to her. So far the police have succeeded for 
 their own purposes in keeping all mention of the 
 case out of the newspapers, but by to-night the 
 country will be ringing with the story. 
 
 "This afternoon our department got a tip that the 
 girl has fallen into the hands of the 'White Slavers' 
 and is hidden somewhere in this city." 
 
 Mrs. Jones gave a little cry of horror. The doc- 
 tor turned to MacAuley, all attention now. "You- 
 don't-say!" he exclaimed in the slow, ponderous 
 tone which he always assumed when particularly in- 
 terested. "It's on the strength of this clue," con- 
 tinued Bob, "that I've been sent down here. You 
 don't know it, of course, but there's a notorious band 
 of cadets who make their headquarters in the little 
 hotel on the corner of this block the one over the 
 saloon." 
 
 "I know the place," exclaimed the doctor. "It's 
 that damned Callahan's !"
 
 34 THE LURE 
 
 MacAuley resumed his story. "This hotel keeper, 
 Callahan, as you call him, is their friend ; in fact, he 
 is in league with them, and so I can't go in the 
 front door, you see. What I want to do, if you will 
 permit me, is to go through your window, climb the 
 fire escape and go over the roofs. I think by that 
 means I can get into the cadets' rooms and perhaps 
 get some information which will help me to find 
 where they have hidden the girl." 
 
 "By all means, sir !" exclaimed the mother, rising 
 to her feet. "And may God help you to find the 
 poor child." 
 
 "Thank you, madam," said Bob. 
 
 He started for the window, but before his foot 
 was upon the sill a hand organ began to play in the 
 court below. MacAuley started back from the 
 window. 
 
 "Oh, dot hand organ again!" cried the doctor 
 pettishly. "It gets my what is it you call it? Oh, 
 yes, my goat. I don't know vot it means, but I 
 know how it feels. Vy don't the Government 
 you say you are a Government man, sir vy don't
 
 THE LURE 35 
 
 the Government make an immigration law to keep 
 all the scum of Europe from coming over here and 
 playing hand organs and selling bananas?" 
 
 "I am sure I don't know," laughed Bob. "I wish 
 they would." 
 
 At that moment there was a sound of a small riot 
 in the court below and the strident voice of an Irish- 
 man consigning the organ grinder to the nether 
 regions. 
 
 "Isn't it funny," cried the doctor, "how the Irish 
 learn the American language so quick ?" 
 
 As the row in the courtyard below showed no 
 sign of decreasing for the moment, MacAuley came 
 to the window and sat down at the table opposite 
 Mrs. Jones. 
 
 "If you don't mind, madam, I'll just wait for a 
 minute or two, till the neighborhood quiets down a 
 bit. I don't think this is exactly the psychological 
 moment for me to make my ascent to the roof." 
 
 "Sit down, sit down, sir!" exclaimed the doctor. 
 "There's lots of time ; and now, if you don't mind,
 
 36 THE LURE 
 
 while you are waiting, tell us about these cadets, vot 
 are they?" 
 
 "Why, they're just a lot of young criminals who 
 want to live easy and dress well," explained Bob. 
 
 "Ah, loafers, eh?" volunteered the doctor. 
 
 Bob nodded his head. "Yes, loafers and worse. 
 They're the sort of fellows you see standing on the 
 street corners of an afternoon, sizing up every girl 
 who passes." 
 
 "I've seen 'em, I've seen 'em!" cried the doctor 
 excitedly. "And every time I watches them I want 
 to break their damn necks." 
 
 "Many of them are professional pickpockets, 
 sneak thieves, gunmen; in fact, they'll commit any 
 sort of crime if it's made worth their while; but 
 their real business is something more serious." 
 
 "Business?" echoed the doctor. "Do you mean 
 to tell me that any of those young devils ever have 
 a regular job ?" 
 
 "It's a very profitable business," answered Bob. 
 "And, as a general rule, a fairly safe one." 
 
 "Veil, vot do you think of that?" cried the doctor.
 
 THE LURE 37 
 
 "They are great students of human nature, these 
 young devils, as you call them, doctor. They know, 
 for instance, that a man will raise a mighty howl 
 if they pick his pocket of a few dollars. But they 
 also know that if they trick this same man's daugh- 
 ter the probabilities are that he will quietly swallow 
 his shame. If the worst comes to the worst, kick 
 the poor girl out into the streets." 
 
 "Oh, no!" cried the mother unbelievingly. "I 
 don't believe there's a father on earth would do such 
 a thing as that." 
 
 "Oh, but there are," repeated Bob very seriously. 
 "Statistics show that very clearly. You see, that is 
 what the cadets rely upon. They know that the girl, 
 once she has been in their possession, would far 
 rather die than ever face the ordeal of going back to 
 her people, and nine times out of ten when she does 
 go back the result is that she is thrown out into the 
 street, and that's where the cadets want the girl." 
 
 "Ah, I see vot you mean," exclaimed the doctor. 
 "The father blames the girl 
 
 "But do you mean to tell me," exclaimed Mrs.
 
 38 THE LURE 
 
 Jones, "that in a Christian country like this, in the 
 twentieth century, such things are possible in a 
 civilized community?" 
 
 "I'm afraid I do," answered Bob. Then, turning 
 toward the doctor, he continued: "But there's an- 
 other side to the question. The girl in nine cases 
 out of ten is an innocent victim. Whether she's in- 
 nocent or not makes no difference to the cadets. 
 They are simply recruiting officers for the Scarlet 
 Militia." 
 
 "So, so, so," said the doctor, wagging his head. 
 
 "The methods of these cadets are so perfect," 
 continued Bob, "that they can ensnare almost any 
 girl that takes their fancy." 
 
 "Merciful God !" cried the mother. 
 
 "And ven they do?" asked the doctor, now hang- 
 ing on Bob's every word. 
 
 "White Slavery is the result," said Bob. 
 
 "Veil, you certainly do surprise me, Mr. Secret 
 Service Man," said the doctor. "Here we are, two 
 respectable, God-fearing peoples, like Mrs. Jones 
 and myself, living right in the midst of all this,
 
 THE LURE 39 
 
 with fiends and devils, like this, for our next-door 
 neighbors; and Callahan is in it, too. My Gott! I 
 never did think much of his beer, but I didn't think 
 as bad as this even of Callahan !" 
 
 "It's all true, every word of it," continued Bob 
 grimly; "and unless I'm very much mistaken, the 
 newspapers of the next two days will confirm every 
 word that I have said and more. The case of this 
 little Springfield girl is going to make the whole 
 country sit up and take notice. And it's about time." 
 
 "And all this time, here have I, right in the midst 
 of it, been thinking all this White Slave business 
 was all just cheap newspaper talk." 
 
 Bob rose to his feet. "The White Slave question 
 is the one thing newspapers can't exaggerate," he 
 remarked with great seriousness. 
 
 "Is dot so, you don't tell me?" exclaimed the doc- 
 tor, now thoroughly convinced. 
 
 "For every girl who voluntarily strays off into 
 that other life," MacAuley went on, "there are two 
 innocent girls tricked and forced into it, and held
 
 40 THE LURE 
 
 there against their will until death or delirium re- 
 leases them." 
 
 "Can that be possible?" cried the mother. 
 
 "Yes, madam, it can and is. At least twenty-five 
 thousand innocent girls are lost in this way every 
 year, according to our latest statistics. And the sta- 
 tistics of the Department of Justice, I assure you, do 
 not lie. But there, it's quiet down in the court now. 
 I think I had better start my climb. Would you 
 mind turning down the lamp for a moment?" Mrs. 
 Jones leaned forward and followed his instructions. 
 "Thank you so much, madam," said Bob, holding 
 out his hand. "I am afraid I have shocked and 
 horrified you unduly, but after all, I am sure, you 
 will agree with me that these are facts which every 
 mother and father ought to know." 
 
 "Vill you need any help?" exclaimed the doctor, 
 following MacAuley to the window. 
 
 "No, thanks," answered Bob laughingly. 
 
 "But you'll come back this way, won't you?" ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Jones. "We shall be so anxious to 
 hear what you discover about that poor little girl."
 
 THE LURE 41 
 
 "If the cadets don't see me I shall certainly come 
 back this way," laughed Bob ; "in fact, I will have to 
 it's the only way out for me." 
 
 "I wonder if what he says is true?" said the doc- 
 tor when MacAuley had finally disappeared up the 
 fire escape. "I can hardly believe it," said the 
 mother, still doubtfully, "and yet he spoke with such 
 earnestness, such sincerity." 
 
 "Yes," answered the doctor; "he don't look a bit 
 like a fellow who talks to give his tongue physical 
 culture." 
 
 "There was something about him that I liked so 
 much," continued the mother, as she returned to her 
 seat at the table. "Do you know, doctor, I think 
 that God must have sent him here to-day. I feel 
 like a different woman since I've seen him. He has 
 given me hope." 
 
 "Hope," cried the doctor in amazement; "hope, 
 after telling you such terrible things as that ?" 
 
 "Ah, but don't you see, those very terrible things 
 which he told us have made me realize, as I never 
 did before, how necessary it is that I should live.
 
 42 THE LURE 
 
 Who is to protect and guard Sylvia when I am 
 gone? Why you're the only friend she has in the 
 world, doctor, and you are an old man. You can't 
 live forever. So there is nothing for it, I must live, 
 and somehow, since that young man came here, it 
 doesn't seem so hard. He seems to have given me 
 courage. Why, doctor, it's been better even than 
 any tonic that you could have concocted for me. I 
 tell you that young man has inspired me. I am go- 
 ing to live."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 "I wish Sylvia could have been here to meet that 
 young man," said the mother as she seated herself 
 in the rocking chair again and tried to go on with 
 the crochet work in the dim, flickering light. "I 
 think Sylvia would have liked him. We nearly al- 
 ways like the same people, she and I. And there 
 is something about that young man that makes you 
 trust and like him. Of course," she went on, "it 
 would not have done for Sylvia to have heard all 
 those terrible things he told us." She paused and 
 reflected for a moment, "and yet, I don't know, for 
 a girl in Sylvia's position a girl who is out in the 
 world, who has to make her own living perhaps it 
 would be just as well for her to know. What, do 
 you think, doctor?" 
 
 "I t'ink, my dear lady, that instinct will protect a 
 good voman anyvhere. I t'ink the good God, He 
 
 looks after all that." 
 
 43
 
 44 THE LURE 
 
 "Ah, but does He?" returned the mother. "If all 
 that Mr. MacAuley has told us is true, your theory 
 does not hold water, does it ?" 
 
 "Perhaps not," and the doctor shrugged his shoul- 
 ders; "but Sylvia is such a sweet, quiet, lovely girl. 
 She has had such a hard struggle as it is. Her 
 vork, her vorry about you, the hard time she al- 
 vays has to make your two ends meet in the middle 
 vy put dose ideas about the terrors and the hor- 
 rors of the world into her head ven there is too 
 much already inside of that dear little head to vex 
 and vorry her. Let 'Sleeping dogs lie,' dot's a good 
 old maxim, which can veil be followed, even by 
 oder people than those who are interested in the 
 Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. 
 Take it from me, Mrs. Jones, our Sylvia, she's got 
 troubles enough." 
 
 "I wonder where she is," said the mother look- 
 ing suddenly at the clock, which now pointed to a 
 few minutes of seven. "She's very late to-night. 
 She's nearly always home by half-past six at the 
 very latest."
 
 THE LURE 45 
 
 "Don't you vorry about Sylvia she's all right," 
 answered the doctor. "Don't you want me to put 
 the tea on for you, Mrs. Jones ?" 
 
 "Thank you, doctor; will you?" and then she 
 added, as her face brightened, "perhaps by the time 
 he gets back here our friend MacAuley might like 
 a cup of tea." 
 
 The doctor shrugged his shoulders and laughed. 
 "Dot's a pretty long jump for a detective!" he ex- 
 claimed, "from the 'White Slavers' to a quiet cup 
 of tea; but I guess he'll be glad to take it all right. 
 I think you infatuated that young man, Mrs. Jones. 
 I vos vatching him very closely. He couldn't keep 
 his eyes off you all the time. It must have been 
 that sweet face of yours. I guess perhaps you made 
 him t'ink of his own mother." 
 
 "Well, whatever I made him think of, he cer- 
 tainly did us both a lot of good, didn't he? Here 
 we were, you and I, half an hour ago in the very 
 depths, almost as it were in the valley of the shadow, 
 and here we are now, almost gossiping. Isn't it 
 wonderful, doctor, what a new personality can do
 
 46 THE LURE 
 
 for old people like ourselves, who have got in a rut ? 
 You see, there is another thing, too," went on the 
 woman; "it's so long, so many years now, since I 
 have been thrown into contact with any persons of 
 my own class. Ever since Sylvia was a little baby, 
 and we grew to be so poor, I have always shunned 
 and avoided my old friends. It wasn't their fault, 
 it was all mine. I was a snob, perhaps, and I wasn't 
 fair to them, for there were many who I know 
 would have been true and loyal to me; but I was 
 ashamed of my poverty. I couldn't bear for them 
 to see Sylvia, pretty as she was, because I couldn't 
 dress her in all the pretty laces and furbelows which 
 other children wear. My conscience often smites 
 me for it now ; because, by doing what I did, I have 
 made the child's life so terribly lonely. I never 
 realized my mistake so fully as I have to-day. 
 When that young man came into the room I said to 
 myself, 'Ah, here's the sort of man that my Sylvia 
 ought to know,' but how is she to meet any one ex- 
 cept by a chance scraped-up acquaintance across the 
 counter?"
 
 THE LURE 47 
 
 The doctor pricked up his ears and listened in- 
 tently. "Speaking of angels," he said, "I think I 
 hear the rustle of your angel's wings. That's Syl- 
 via's footstep in the hall." 
 
 "Hello, momsey, here I am, darling," called a 
 fresh young voice and Sylvia burst into the room. 
 
 "Doctor, God bless you; so you are here, too? 
 How is she to-night, doctor?" 
 
 "Better, a great deal better, my dear," exclaimed 
 the doctor before the little mother had a chance to 
 get a word in edgewise. "Vy, I haf never seen such 
 a sudden improvement in any patient in my life. 
 Vy, if your mother vos a drinking voman, my dear, 
 I should have said she'd had a cocktail." 
 
 "A cocktail? Why, nonsense, doctor. Dear old 
 momsey doesn't even know that such things exist. 
 Seriously, though, how is she?" 
 
 "My dear," said her mother quietly, as she patted 
 her daughter's hand, "I am feeling better very, 
 very much better. Let's worry about you for a lit- 
 tle change, my dear. You look dreadfully tired. 
 Sit down and let the doctor bring you a cup of tea."
 
 48 THE LURE 
 
 Sylvia took off her hat and threw her gloves on 
 the table. To the doctor's quick eye it was evident 
 that her brightness was all assumed. 
 
 "We've just been talking about you, my dear," 
 said the doctor as he slipped two lumps of sugar 
 into her tea. 
 
 "Were you? What were you saying?" asked 
 Sylvia. 
 
 "Oh, I was saying some nice t'ings and t'inking 
 a lot of other nice t'ings that I didn't say." 
 
 "But nice things unsaid don't help much, do 
 they ?" said the girl a little wearily. 
 
 "But I am going to say them, my dear," laughed 
 the doctor. 
 
 "Are you? When?" 
 
 "At the psychological time," answered the doctor. 
 
 "When is that?" asked Sylvia. 
 
 "Veil, if I were a young man, any time and efery 
 time would be psychological, so long as I vos mit 
 you." 
 
 "Come, come, doctor, now, don't be foolish." 
 
 "Foolish, my dear?" echoed the doctor. "Vy,
 
 THE LURE 
 
 yen it comes to love affairs I am a specialist, a 
 bachelor of the arts. Vy I could tell you more new 
 things about love than you ever dreamed." 
 
 The girl smiled and shook her head. "It seems 
 to me love's only just a dream, anyhow, don't you 
 think so, doctor ?" 
 
 "Veil, sometimes it's a dream sometimes it's a 
 nightmare, and sometimes it's a benediction right 
 from heaven. Ven it's dat, eferyt'ing else in the 
 vorld takes off its hat to it." 
 
 A dreamy, faraway look crept into Sylvia's eyes. 
 "Yes, I suppose so," she said dreamily ; "but I don't 
 know " 
 
 "You vill know some day," said the doctor 
 promptly. 
 
 "How on earth am I ever to learn? Remember, 
 I am just a girl behind the counter." 
 
 "You don't haf to learn about love. You shust 
 ketch it ven you are not vatching, and from vot I 
 know about it it gets behind the counter shust as 
 quick as anywhere else and you don't need no doctor
 
 50 THE LURE 
 
 to tell you vot's the matter with you when you've 
 got it." 
 
 For the first time there was a little tinge of 
 gayety in Sylvia's eyes. "Ah, doctor," she cried, 
 "you are just a dear old tease ; but, come now, let's 
 be serious. Momsey is really better to-night, isn't 
 she ?" she asked in a slightly lower voice. "How is 
 the fever?" asked the girl. Almost involuntarily 
 she reached out and felt her mother's pulse and then 
 caressed her hand. 
 
 "It's less than a hundred to-night," said the doc- 
 tor. 
 
 "That's fine. If this lazy summer would hurry 
 along we'd be all right yet." 
 
 "fey the way," exclaimed the doctor, "did you 
 get the prescription filled?" 
 
 "No," answered the girl abruptly, and she turned 
 aw r ay her head from her mother. "It was too late, 
 the dispensary was closed for the night when I got 
 there." 
 
 "Closed, as early as this? Vy, dot's impossible," 
 protested the doctor.
 
 THE LURE 51 
 
 Sylvia turned and looked significantly at the doc- 
 tor. Her little bit of pantomime he interpreted very 
 quickly and changed his tone. 
 
 "Ah, yes ; I remember now. They do close early 
 some nights. I forgot about that. Vot's coming 
 over this old memory of mine?" 
 
 "I am sorry you had the trip for nothing, my 
 dear," said the mother. 
 
 "Never mind, momsey, the walk did me a lot of 
 good. I needed the air, and " 
 
 "Oh, but my dear child," expostulated the mother, 
 "why didn't you go on the car?" 
 
 "It had been stifling in the store all day and, as I 
 tell you, I wanted the exercise." 
 
 "There is such a thing as too much exercise," de- 
 clared the doctor impulsively. 
 
 Sylvia threw him a glance which, if it had been 
 put into words, would have said: "Doctor, dear, 
 won't you, for heaven's sake, please shut up? Don't 
 let's discuss this before mother," but what she really 
 said was : "Not for young people, when you're shut
 
 52 THE LURE 
 
 up indoors all day, there is nothing like a good, long 
 walk to put you on your feet again." 
 
 "Of course, of course, my dear," returned the 
 doctor, suddenly changing his tone. "Youth must 
 have its fling." 
 
 The doctor caught Sylvia's eye again. He real- 
 ized that she was anxious for him to get her mother 
 out of the room. Somehow instinct told him that 
 the girl had bad news to tell him. "But, anyhow, 
 they should sleep a lot," continued the doctor. 
 
 "That's right, doctor," broke in the mother. "I 
 just wish you would lay the law down to her a little 
 bit. Sylvia needs it. She's so busy looking after 
 me and worrying about me that she never has a 
 moment to think about herself, and she should 
 think of herself before anything else." 
 
 "Dot's right, my dear," said the doctor. "I vill 
 lay down the law to her good and hard on one 
 condition : you go avay, and I vill do it right now. 
 I haf always made it a rule," he exclaimed jokingly, 
 "never to give a lecture to a daughter vile her 
 mother vos around."
 
 THE LURE 53 
 
 "Ah, you want to get rid of me, I see ; very well, 
 doctor," said the mother rising, "I will go, as long 
 as it is for Sylvia's good." 
 
 "I think you'd better, momsey. You've been 
 sitting up too long already. Just go in and lie down 
 for a little while, and presently I'll come in and we'll 
 have a good, long talk." 
 
 "Thank you for coming, doctor," Mrs. Jones held 
 out her hand, "and for all you've done " 
 
 "Never mind that, you go to bed," replied the 
 doctor. 
 
 Sylvia placed her arm about her mother's waist 
 and led her into the bedroom. A moment later, clos- 
 ing the door behind her, Sylvia turned quickly 
 to the doctor : "Does she know?" she asked quickly, 
 almost in a whisper. The girl's face was ashen 
 white now. She leaned on the edge of the table 
 for support. 
 
 "She made me tell the truth, my dear," said the 
 doctor. 
 
 "Did she ask you how how long it would be 
 before the end?"
 
 54 THE LURE 
 
 The doctor nodded. 
 
 "And you told her?" 
 
 "Eferyt'ing shust like I told you last night." 
 
 Two big tears welled into Sylvia's eyes and rolled 
 unheeded down her cheek. "Poor little mother," 
 she sighed. 
 
 "Brave little mother," said the doctor. 
 
 "Yes, she is brave. That's what makes it even 
 harder. She's got such grit, she never will give in. 
 She's always so cheerful and bright. Sometimes she 
 almost deceives me. I can hardly believe it's true." 
 
 "And it's brave little daughter, too, just remem- 
 ber," said the doctor, as he patted the girl on the 
 shoulder. 
 
 Sylvia raised her big eyes to his and shook her 
 head wearily. "Not brave to-night, doctor not I ; 
 I'm down and out I'm all in!" She sank down 
 into a chair in a little heap and burst out crying. 
 "It just seems to me that I can't stand anything 
 more. I'm just desperate." 
 
 "Did you speak to the manager of the store to- 
 day ?" asked the doctor very gently.
 
 THE LURE 55 
 
 "Yes; I told him what you said about mother, 
 and how terribly ill she was, and how necessary it 
 was for her to get away. I asked him to lend me 
 the hundred dollars for a trip to the country." 
 
 "Yes?" 
 
 "I told him if he would only let me have the 
 
 i 
 money now that I would pay every penny of it 
 
 back to him within a year, that he could take interest 
 if he liked, I didn't care what, so long as I got it 
 now. I told him." 
 
 "And what did he say?" 
 
 "I told him he could take it out of my salary at 
 two dollars a week." 
 
 "Two a veek from six, dot don't leave enough," 
 cried the doctor, shaking his head disgustedly. "Six 
 dollars a veek ain't no salary, anyhow it's shust a 
 tip; but vot did he say then?" 
 
 "He said it was against the rules of the store." 
 
 "He told you dot dot dirty millionaire loafer!" 
 cried the doctor, his kind little eyes fairly blazing 
 with indignation.
 
 -56 THE LURE 
 
 The girl nodded her head hopelessly and closed 
 her eyes. "Yes, that's just what he told me." 
 
 "Der's alvays a rule or precedent people can cite 
 ven dey don't vant to do a t'ing," exclaimed the 
 doctor. 
 
 Stifling her sobs and drying her eyes, Sylvia re- 
 sumed her story. "When I saw it was no use, that 
 he wouldn't let me have the hundred dollars, I told 
 him everything, just how desperately hard up we 
 were, and then I asked him if he wouldn't please let 
 me have two dollars out of my Monday's salary. I 
 told him that I had to get the nourishing things you 
 had ordered the things that you said she must 
 have to-night." 
 
 The doctor smiled a little ironically. "I am glad 
 you told him that; but he vouldn't give you that 
 even, eh ? Oh, I know that kind the voods are full 
 of them. I guess the storekeeper needs the three 
 dollars to buy an automobile vith. But, look here, 
 storekeeper or no storekeeper, we've got to get dot 
 medicine. She must have dot nourishment. Vy 
 didn't you get the medicine, my dear? You don't
 
 THE LURE 57 
 
 haf to pay for dot, and she must haf it to-morrow 
 the very first t'ing." 
 
 "After I saw it was hopeless to talk any more to 
 the manager, he said I would have to wait for my 
 salary like the rest of them, I walked as fast as I 
 could down to the dispensary. It's a long way, you 
 know nearly two miles, and I couldn't afford to 
 take a car, and when I got there, and showed the slip 
 on which you had written the names of those medi- 
 cines, the clerk looked me up and down, and what 
 do you think that beast said to me: 'You've got a 
 nerve to come here and ask for expensive medicines 
 like that at a free dispensary. What do you think 
 we are, philanthropists ?' ' 
 
 "The dirty brute !" gasped the doctor. 
 
 "I begin to understand now," said Sylvia, "why 
 so many poor girls would rather die at home than 
 go to one of the free hospitals, if they are one-half 
 as bad as the dispensaries, I don't blame them. This 
 so-called charity is so cold it fairly hurts you." 
 
 "I know, I know," said the doctor commiserat-
 
 58 THE LURE 
 
 ingly; "but vot are ve going to do? Ve must get 
 dot medicine some vay." 
 
 "Then I went to a drug store. They told me this 
 prescription would cost two dollars and sixty cents. 
 I've only got fifteen cents, doctor; and I can't get 
 another cent till Monday." She rose from the 
 chair, and with her arms folded paced up and down 
 the room despairingly. "What can I do, doctor? 
 What can I do? I can't let her suffer and die just 
 for the need of it? And I haven't told you the 
 worst yet. After I had been up to see the manager 
 I went back to work again because it wasn't quite 
 six o'clock, and while I was there I got my notice, 
 a week from to-morrow, I'll be out of work. They 
 are laying off thirty of the girls. I am one of them." 
 
 "But vot's the reason? Vy is it for?" ex- 
 claimed the doctor. 
 
 "I don't know," said the girl disconsolately. 
 "Just bad luck, I guess just fate, kismet what- 
 ever you choose to call it. I don't know. I wonder 
 what it is about me, doctor, that always brings me 
 such bad luck?"
 
 THE LURE 59 
 
 The doctor was very serious now. "Tell me, 
 Sylvia," he said, "tell me the truth, my child, vos it 
 in this case, as it vos that time before at Thimble's, 
 the time ven you had to get avay on account of the 
 persecution of that dirty " 
 
 "No; there was nothing like that this time," re- 
 plied Sylvia promptly. Then, after a second 
 thought, she continued: "At least, nothing that I 
 could prove definitely. There was one of the floor 
 walkers, two or three weeks ago, who got very 
 fresh with me one night just as I was leaving the 
 store ; but I gave him a box on the ear which, while 
 I think he remembers it very well, he wouldn't want 
 to talk about. No one was there but ourselves 
 at the time. Of course, he might have made some 
 trouble for me, but I scarcely think so." 
 
 "Ah," said the doctor significantly; "perhaps 
 that's the milk in the cocoanut. Did he have any 
 pull with der manager, dis fellow?" 
 
 "Not that I know of," said Sylvia ; "but then, in 
 those shops, we girls never can tell who is and who 
 isn't close to the manager. All I know is that he
 
 60 THE LURE 
 
 has left me absolutely alone ever since. He has 
 never once spoken to me. In fact, I've only seen 
 him once since it happened, and that was to-night, 
 just as I was leaving the counter. I had forgotten 
 about that until this very minute. You see, I was 
 so flustered and upset, doctor, that I scarcely knew 
 what I was doing; but I remember now he came 
 across the aisle, leaned on the counter and began 
 chatting with one of the other girls." 
 
 "Did you hear what he said ?" 
 
 "No, not exactly; I wasn't listening. In fact, I 
 had too many troubles of my own to care what any- 
 body was saying just then. It was something about 
 how sorry he was that so many of the girls have to 
 be laid off." 
 
 "Huh !" said the doctor. 
 
 "Perhaps he did do it," said Sylvia, now speaking 
 in a tone of desperation. "After all, it doesn't mat- 
 ter very much whether he did or not. The impor- 
 tant thing is, after next Saturday I will be out of 
 work, and I will have to look for another place, 
 and what chance do I have to get something at this
 
 THE LURE 61 
 
 time of the year? And even if I do get something 
 to do at the same wages, it won't be enough. Oh, 
 if I could only get some work!" 
 
 The doctor's hand slipped again into his waist- 
 coat pocket, and drew out his twenty-two cents. 
 With the coins lying in the palm of his hand, he 
 walked toward Sylvia. "Ven I vos a young man, 
 Sylvia," he said, "vonce I spent a hundred dollars 
 for a gold vatch. It vas a fine vatch, and I think it 
 would have kept very good time if I had it long 
 enough, but a tief picked my pocket the very first 
 night. I alvays vished I saved dot money and 
 hadn't bought dot vatch. If I'd kept dot money, I 
 might have had a hundred dollars to hand over to 
 you now, my dear, with all my heart, but, as it is, I 
 haf shust been a silly, extravagant old numskull, 
 and vot is the consequence? Twenty-two cents is 
 all I haf." He laid the coins down on the table, 
 but Sylvia, profoundly touched, would have none 
 of them. 
 
 "No, no, doctor," she cried, "I couldn't take that.
 
 62 THE LURE 
 
 Besides, you'll need the money almost as much as 
 we do in your own way." 
 
 "Very veil, den, my dear, I'll shust keep the two 
 cents for pocket pieces, and you keep der rest, 
 please." 
 
 "I couldn't ; you need it just as much as we do." 
 
 "Perhaps," said the doctor smiling, as he glanced 
 significantly at the gas jet; "but the gas meter needs 
 it worse." 
 
 "Please, doctor." 
 
 "I guess the owner of the gas company needs a 
 new automobile, too, eh?" 
 
 "Please take it back," repeated Sylvia pleadingly. 
 
 With great reluctance the doctor picked up the 
 two pennies, but insisted upon leaving the two ten- 
 cent pieces lying on the table. "It's all right, Sylvia, 
 don't you vorry. A patient is going to pay me a 
 half a dollar to-morrow dat is, he said he vould, 
 and I t'ink perhaps he vill." 
 
 The girl turned impulsively and grasped his hand. 
 "Doctor, you are the dearest soul in the world,"
 
 THE LURE 63 
 
 she said. "If they only had your kind in the dis- 
 pensaries." 
 
 The doctor was about to reply, but at that mo- 
 ment there was a sound of a footstep on the fire es- 
 cape. The doctor held up his hand warningly and 
 turned toward the window. 
 
 Sylvia had heard the footstep, too. "What is 
 that?" she asked, a little alarmed. 
 
 "Oh, dot's all right," he exclaimed reassuringly. 
 "I t'ought dot vos dot Government man coming 
 back." 
 
 "Who?" asked the girl, not understanding him. 
 
 "Vy, dot Secret Service fellow. He went up the 
 fire escape about some business shust a few minutes 
 before you came in. He and your mother and I 
 ve had a nice little talk. He's a fine fellow, dot 
 young man. Your mother liked him, too." 
 
 "But who is he? What on earth is he doing up 
 there?" asked Sylvia curiously. 
 
 "Oh, he vos shust looking for some fellers who 
 he t'ought had stolen something. I hope he gets 
 dem; but, vile I t'ink of it, Sylvia, let me ask you
 
 64, THE LURE 
 
 something, my dear. Veil as I know you both, you 
 and your mother, ve haf very seldom talked about 
 our families. Has your mother got no relatives who 
 might help you ?" 
 
 "No, no ; there is no one. We haven't heard from 
 any of our relatives for years. I have forgotten 
 even most of their names. Mother seldom speaks 
 of them." 
 
 "But your father hasn't he any relatives, who 
 has got both some money and a heart?" 
 
 "I know even less about father," answered the 
 girl. "Mother has always been so vague about 
 him. I think he must have treated her very badly. 
 He went away or something " 
 
 "Huh!" sniffed the doctor, "fathers and husbands 
 often go away it's a habit they have. Maybe they 
 wouldn't go if they knew what it means sometimes." 
 
 Sylvia was facing the fire escape. The light from 
 the lamp fell full upon her face and made a golden 
 aureole of her soft brown hair. Outside the win- 
 dow, but unseen by her, stood MacAuley, spell- 
 bound, nonplussed, so amazed at the sight of Sylvia
 
 THE LURE 65 
 
 that he stood there for several moments, silent, 
 petrified, like a figure of stone. He could not take 
 his eyes from the face of the girl as she stood by the 
 table. His heart gave a great bound at the thought 
 that he had found her again. Then suddenly from 
 the far room came the sound of Mrs. Jones' voice 
 calling, "Sylvia! Sylvia!" Sylvia turned and hur- 
 ried to her mother. The spell was broken. Mac- 
 Auley put the one foot which had been suspended 
 on the last step of the fire escape down hard on 
 the window sill. One of the flower pots fell to the 
 ground with a crash and smashed to atoms on the 
 floor.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 "I beg your pardon, I'm awfully sorry; but in 
 spite of the damage I've done, may I still come in ?" 
 It was MacAuley making his way through the win- 
 dow and gazing apologetically at the doctor in 
 search of forgiveness for the flower pot's untimely 
 fate. 
 
 "Oh, iss dot you ?" exclaimed the doctor genially. 
 "Why, sure, come in." 
 
 "I say, I am awfully sorry," continued Bob. "I'm 
 a clumsy sort of chap, anyway; but I wouldn't have 
 smashed that geranium pot for the world. I always 
 have a capacity for putting my foot in it, which is 
 incurable. Do you suppose Mrs. Jones will mind, if 
 I atone by replacing it to-morrow ?" 
 
 "Nonsense," said the doctor; "it doesn't matter 
 at all. Vot's a flower pot more or less ?" 
 
 He turned toward MacAuley with a mischievous 
 66
 
 THE LURE 67 
 
 smile. "But say, I t'ought you said you vos a Se- 
 cret Service man?" 
 
 "You wouldn't think so, would you?" laughed 
 Bob, "to judge by all the row I make." 
 
 But the doctor by this time had lost all interest in 
 the flower pot. He was athirst for news real 
 news, news of the "White Slavers." "Tell me, did 
 you find anything?" he asked in a mysterious half- 
 whisper. "Did you find any clews? Did you get 
 into the hotel room ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, I got in all right," said Bob, stooping 
 down and picking up the fragments of the flower 
 pot. 
 
 "Did you find out anything about the little girl ?" 
 
 "Yes, several things; but nothing positive. Still, 
 I am pretty sure I know where she is now from 
 something one of the cadets in the room let drop. 
 I think they have got her hidden in the very place 
 where I thought she was. In the house the Wav- 
 erly Club, which is run by a woman called Madam 
 Katherine Lockwood."
 
 68 THE LURE 
 
 "Goot! goot!" cried the doctor excitedly. "Do 
 you think you can get her out ?" 
 
 "If I ever can get inside there I can get her out all 
 right," answered MacAuley confidently; "but it is 
 about the hardest place in the whole town to get 
 into. This woman, Katherine Lockwood, is about 
 the foxiest crook in this entire town. She is under 
 the protection of Jim Wilson, the politician. Well, 
 of course, you know the sort of a pull that a man 
 like that has got. But this Lockwood woman is a 
 perfect wonder. In all the three years that I've been 
 engaged in White Slave work I have never even 
 been able to set eyes on her. I don't know even 
 what she looks like, except in a vague sort of way. 
 She is not in the Rogues' Gallery. She has never 
 been convicted of anything. The police have noth- 
 ing on her. I guess they don't want to get anything 
 on her. They know better than to make trouble for 
 any of Mr. Jim Wilson's protegees, and you can't 
 blame them, after all. Poor devils, they have got 
 to look out for their own skins, and Jim Wilson
 
 THE LURE 69 
 
 would break any copper who dared to point so 
 much as a finger at that woman." 
 
 "But vot is she like, this voman?" queried the 
 doctor. "From vot you say she must be a vonder." 
 
 "She is," continued Bob. "She is far and away 
 the cleverest woman in the underworld. A type 
 like this woman just goes to show you what blood 
 will do when it goes wrong." 
 
 "Vot do you mean?" asked the doctor, puzzled. 
 
 "Well, this Lock wood woman comes of very good 
 people. She is splendidly educated, and from what 
 I've heard of her and her achievements in the White 
 Slave line she must have a splendid brain. The 
 story around town is that Wilson ran across her 
 when she was a very young girl living at home in 
 a small town. She ran away with him and lived 
 under his protection for several years. That was 
 twenty years or more ago, of course. Her wit and 
 her beauty in those days made her one of the most 
 brilliant figures in the half-world. She was the 
 'Toast of the Tenderloin' at one time, they say. 
 Then Wilson grew tired of her and married mar-
 
 70 THE LURE 
 
 ried a charming, lovely woman, too. You'll see her 
 name high up on the list of all the most deserving 
 charities. When Wilson chucked her the Lock- 
 wood woman was far too clever to quarrel with him. 
 In business they've been partners ever since. Some 
 years ago she married a rotten little cadet named 
 Paul Laf arge, but she always insists on being known 
 by her old name of Lock wood. She and this La- 
 farge creature run a downtown establishment which 
 is known as the Waverly Club. Uptown the Lock- 
 wood woman, during the day, runs an employment 
 agency. The employment agency, of course, is a 
 sort of a blind, but it serves her purpose remarkably 
 well; but the most curious part of it all is that, 
 though she and her business are perfectly well 
 known, there is not a detective living who has been 
 able to get anything on her. She is a fox, I tell 
 you, and as wise as an owl." 
 
 At that moment Sylvia entered the room. At 
 sight of MacAuley she stopped short at the door 
 and gave a little gasp of astonishment. "Why, how
 
 THE LURE 71 
 
 do you do?" she exclaimed, trying hard to conceal 
 her amazement from the doctor. 
 
 "How do you do? This is an unexpected pleas- 
 ure," said MacAuley, blushing furiously and com- 
 ing toward her with outstretched hand. 
 
 It was the doctor's turn to look amazed now. 
 "Vot," he exclaimed, as he watched them shaking 
 hands, "you know each other already yet? How is 
 dot?" 
 
 "Just an odd coincidence," stammered Bob, still 
 blushing. "Miss Jones and I have had a bowing 
 acquaintance for some time. She used to choose all 
 my mother's silk stockings for me when she was at 
 the store." 
 
 "Oh, were they for your mother ?" exclaimed Syl- 
 via, glad of any chance to escape any further ex- 
 planation to the doctor. "You never told me that. 
 Why didn't you?" 
 
 "How could I," smiled Bob. "You were always 
 so short with me. You never gave me even half a 
 chance to say, 'How do you do?' But I say, I am 
 awfully sorry about your flower pot, Miss Jones.
 
 72 THE LURE 
 
 I have just been telling the doctor that if you will 
 allow me I should like to send you another one to- 
 morrow." 
 
 "The flower pot?" exclaimed Sylvia, not under- 
 standing. "Oh, was that the crash that I heard 
 when I was in my mother's room just now? But 
 how did you come to break it? What were you 
 doing in our window ?" 
 
 "I was stepping in from the fire escape very 
 clumsily as usual, and my foot slipped, as the best 
 of feet will sometimes, and well, I just broke your 
 flower pot." 
 
 "Oh " and Sylvia was all smiles now. "Then 
 
 you're the Secret Service man the doctor was telling 
 about. I didn't know you were a detective." 
 
 "Didn't you?" said MacAuley rather blankly. 
 
 "Why no, how could I ?" laughed Sylvia, echoing 
 his remark. 
 
 "Didn't Miss Emma tell you? Why, I thought 
 she told you everything." 
 
 "What made you think that?" 
 
 "Why, she was so fond of you. She always
 
 THE LURE 73 
 
 talked about you so enthusiastically. To tell you the 
 honest truth," he continued, and again he blushed, 
 "that was the reason why I used to buy even more 
 gloves than I did silk stockings. She'd always talk 
 about you." 
 
 "Veil, vot do you t'ink of dot?" exclaimed the 
 doctor, only too delighted to realize that he was wit- 
 nessing the beginning of a love affair. 
 
 "Excuse me, Sylvia, just for a moment, my dear," 
 continued the doctor. "If you will give me a spoon 
 I t'ink it is time now for me to go and fix your 
 mother's medicine. Besides," he added, confiden- 
 tially, "there is a little matter vot I vant to talk to 
 her about, if you can give us shust about ten min- 
 utes to ourselves." 
 
 As the door closed behind the doctor MacAuley 
 turned to Sylvia. "Well, well!" he exclaimed, his 
 face fairly glowing, "it's been a long time, hasn't 
 it?" 
 
 "Yes, quite a long time," said Sylvia ; "almost a 
 year." 
 
 "Did I frighten you when I came in just now?"
 
 74 THE LURE 
 
 "No, I wasn't frightened; you dumfounded me. 
 I never was so astonished in my life." 
 
 "Well, it was your fault. You know that I broke 
 the flower pot," laughed MacAuley. 
 
 "My fault?" echoed Sylvia. "How was that? I 
 didn't even know you were here never dreamed of 
 such a thing." 
 
 "Well, if you hadn't been looking straight at me 
 that way I wouldn't have stepped on the flower 
 pot." 
 
 "I wasn't looking at you," reiterated Sylvia. "I 
 never saw you. I didn't dream there was any one 
 on the fire escape." 
 
 "Well, I had been out there several minutes look- 
 ing at you, just the same." 
 
 "Oh, that wasn't fair," said Sylvia. 
 
 Bob shrugged his shoulders and smiled again. 
 "No, I guess you are right, perhaps it wasn't ; but I 
 couldn't resist the temptation. There must be a 
 streak of Paul Pry in me somewhere. I suppose, 
 because I love to watch people's faces when they 
 don't know. The truth comes out then."
 
 THE LURE 75 
 
 "The truth?" said Sylvia; "that sounds interest- 
 ing. What truths about me did my face reveal to 
 you?" 
 
 "None that I didn't know already," answered Bob 
 more seriously. "None that I didn't know the first 
 time I ever saw you. Some day," he continued 
 "not now, because it will take too long, and I have 
 got to tear myself away and get to work but some 
 day, if you'll only let me know you better, now that 
 we have been more conventionally introduced, I am 
 going to tell you the extraordinary thing I did after 
 seeing your face for the first time." 
 
 "Really," smiled Sylvia, "what did you do?" 
 
 "Well, to cut it short, I went across the street to 
 a jewelry shop and I paid forty-six dollars for a 
 silver picture frame, and there it stands on my man- 
 telpiece to this day and hour empty!" 
 
 Sylvia burst out laughing. "But what's that got 
 to do about me?" 
 
 "We'll talk of that if you'll let me another 
 day, besides, I have got another confession to make
 
 76 THE LURE 
 
 about the window, and why I stood so long there 
 watching you." 
 
 " What is that?" 
 
 "I liked the picture you made standing there by 
 the table with the lamplight on your face ; at least I 
 did," he continued, "until I noticed the little worry 
 lines, and when I saw them I couldn't bear to think 
 of your being troubled in any way, and so I put my 
 foot down hard and smashed that pot of yours. 
 What I really meant to do was to walk right into 
 this room and say to you, 'for goodness sake, don't 
 worry, there isn't anything in the world worth wor- 
 rying about.' ' 
 
 "That's easy enough to say," replied Sylvia a lit- 
 tle bitterly; "but it is not so easy to do, I assure 
 you." 
 
 "Oh, yes, it is easy to do, too. It can be demon- 
 strated mathematically that it requires much more 
 energy to worry than it does not to." 
 
 "Demonstrated by somebody, no doubt, who has 
 nothing to worry about." 
 
 "Oh, pardon me, quite the contrary. Why, I've
 
 THE LURE 77 
 
 even demonstrated it myself. It was only to-day, 
 less than ten minutes ago, that I became converted 
 to this theory. Why, will you believe me, for nearly 
 a year I've been worrying myself perfectly sick 
 about something; but what was the use, the matter 
 was in the hands of the fates, and the fates have 
 proved to me within the last ten minutes that I 
 hadn't the least cause to worry." 
 
 "And this wonderful thing that the fates demon- 
 strated to you on my fire escape," said Sylvia play- 
 fully, "what was that, if I may ask?" 
 
 MacAuley looked her full in the face and smiled. 
 "It was you," he said bluntly. 
 
 "Me?" 
 
 "Yes, you ! Why not ? You deserted me basely, 
 didn't you now? Never leaving a trace or an ad- 
 dress behind you. Of course, I knew that you would 
 know I would pump Miss Emma ; but why were you 
 so cruel? Why did you make her promise not to 
 tell me a single word?" 
 
 "I didn't want any one to know where I had 
 gone," said Sylvia. "There were business reasons
 
 78 THE LURE 
 
 reasons that had nothing in any way to do with 
 you; but as I was making a clean slate of break- 
 ing new ground, as it were, I thought it was much 
 wiser not to give any one my new address ; but I 
 always looked forward to seeing you again some- 
 where really, I did." 
 
 "I am glad to hear that," said Bob, "because, you 
 know, another thing that worried me was that per- 
 haps I had been bothering you too much buying 
 silk stockings for my relatives, and that you had left 
 in order to get rid of me permanently; and yet I 
 couldn't see exactly what I had ever done to annoy 
 or offend you. As I remember our few conversa- 
 tions, the only request I ever made of you was that I 
 might call at your house and meet your people." 
 
 "That's perfectly true," said Sylvia. "I've never 
 forgotten that, and all the time that I refused to let 
 you I was wishing in my heart that you could have 
 come; but how could I ask any one down here to 
 meet my dear mother in such a wretched place." 
 
 "Ah," cried Bob ; "but that's where the fates come 
 in again, you see. You wouldn't let me meet your
 
 THE LURE 79 
 
 mother, and yet here we are, she and I, quite old 
 friends already, and you have had nothing to do 
 with it. We were perfectly helpless, you see you 
 and I. The fates have decreed that we have got to 
 be friends." 
 
 "It does seem odd and funny, doesn't it," said 
 Sylvia, ruminatingly, "that we should have been 
 thrown together again like this? I wonder if there 
 is such a thing as Fate?" 
 
 "Of course there is !" exclaimed Bob emphatically. 
 "Why, haven't to-day's events absolutely proved it ? 
 Of course, you know, if I had chosen to use my 
 powers as a detective I could have run you down in 
 less than a week; but what good would that have 
 done me ? I realized that even then, but I wouldn't 
 do it, and now," he added triumphantly, "haven't 
 the subsequent proceedings proved that in this in- 
 stance I was a very wise man?"
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 "Did I really look so worried when you were 
 watching me through the window?" asked Sylvia 
 presently. 
 
 They were sitting at the table now, chatting away 
 as though they had known each other for years. 
 For the moment MacAuley had let his white-slave 
 work go hang, and Sylvia gaining courage, just as 
 her mother had done before her from the buoyant 
 personality of this young man, seemed instinctively 
 to be letting her own immediate troubles lie dormant 
 for the moment. The color had come back into her 
 face again. There were none of those worry lines, 
 as Bob had called them, in evidence now. Now and 
 then, in answer to some of his sallies, Sylvia 
 laughed almost as light-heartedly as though she 
 hadn't a sorrow or a care on earth, and the sound 
 
 of their voices and laughter was as music to the 
 
 80
 
 THE LURE 81 
 
 ears of the mother and the old doctor in the adjoin- 
 ing room. 
 
 "Listen to 'em, listen to 'em," exclaimed the doc- 
 tor to his patient. "It's good to hear 'em. There 
 is nothing so bracing for old peoples as to hear 
 young peoples enjoying themselves ; so, if you don't 
 mind, Mrs. Jones, I t'ink I'll just sit in here quietly 
 with you for another ten or fifteen minutes. Syl- 
 via don't have company efery day. Let's give 'em 
 a fine chance to get really well acquainted." 
 
 MacAuley meanwhile was answering Sylvia's 
 questions. "Worried, I should say you did look 
 worried ; but you are not going to worry any more, 
 are you? Flowers never grow along the road to 
 worry, you know." 
 
 "Nor anywhere else for some people," sighed 
 Sylvia. 
 
 "Oh, yes, they do, if you'd only look for them." 
 
 "You and the doctor are alike," laughed Sylvia. 
 
 "You mean he preaches optimism, too ?" 
 
 "Yes, that's it, optimism. That's the wonderful 
 thing about the doctor. He is his own best tonic,
 
 82 THE LURE 
 
 and that's one of the things that mother likes so 
 much about you, Mr. MacAuley. She says that you 
 are one of those who always look on the bright side 
 of things." 
 
 "When did she tell you that?" asked Bob eagerly. 
 
 "Why, just a little while ago before you came 
 in. She was speaking of your earlier visit, and, of 
 course, she hadn't the least idea that I knew you 
 then," laughed Sylvia. "So, you see, she was quite 
 unprejudiced. She simply said to me that a young 
 detective, a Secret Service man, had called, and that 
 she thought he was one of the most cheerful persons 
 that she had met in a very long time." 
 
 "Well," exclaimed Bob, jokingly, "if you can only 
 induce your mother's daughter to think as well of 
 me as that, I see no reason why you and I could not 
 become great friends, even if our first acquaintance 
 did start so austerely. Tell me now," he went on, 
 lowering his voice, "what were you really worrying 
 about just now?" 
 
 "Do you really want to know?" asked Sylvia. 
 
 "Surely."
 
 THE LURE 83 
 
 "Well, I'll tell you then," continued Sylvia as 
 though not quite certain whether she really would 
 or not. 
 
 "Honest Injun no subterfuges?" 
 
 "Of course not ; the perfect truth nothing else," 
 laughed Sylvia. 
 
 "Well, then," MacAuley leaned forward eagerly. 
 
 Sylvia drew a long breath. "Well, if you must 
 know, I was worrying about not being able to 
 change these two dimes into a quarter coin for the 
 gas meter." 
 
 "Oh?" said Bob, rather blankly. 
 
 "You see, I was tired," explained Sylvia, "and as 
 I had no more change I should have had to go all 
 the way down to the corner store before I could 
 change a bill." 
 
 Bob threw back his head and laughed. "I take it 
 all back," he exclaimed. "You certainly have some- 
 thing to worry over." 
 
 "Yes; haven't I?" exclaimed Sylvia. But there 
 was an almost hysterical tone in her laugh which 
 did not escape Bob's ear for an instant.
 
 84 THE LURE 
 
 "Cheer up, relief is at hand," he cried, and thrust- 
 ing his hand into his pocket he produced a quarter, 
 which he presented to her with elaborate ceremony. 
 
 "Thank you so much," said Sylvia, taking the 
 quarter ; then picking up the two dimes she dropped 
 them into his hand, "ten, twenty wait." She 
 opened her bag and took out the one last nickel. 
 "Five. There you are." 
 
 While she was searching for the nickel Bob, in 
 fun, had quickly palmed one of the ten-cent pieces. 
 As she dropped the nickel into his hand, he held it 
 there as though expecting more. 
 
 "Isn't it right?" cried Sylvia apprehensively. 
 "Why, I thought I gave you two dimes." 
 
 He flipped his hand and as the other dime came 
 into sight Sylvia gave a great sigh of relief. "Oh, 
 there it is thank goodness !" 
 
 She rose and moved toward the gas meter with 
 the quarter in her hand. 
 
 "Can't I help? Don't you want me to light it for 
 you?" asked Bob. 
 
 "Yes, please, if you will, when I turn it on/'
 
 THE LURE 85 
 
 He dragged a chair to the meter and assisted her 
 to stand on it. 
 
 She dropped the quarter in the meter. There was 
 a moment's pause, while they both listened for the 
 click. 
 
 "Ready ?" cried Sylvia. 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Bob, striking a match. 
 
 The light loomed out. 
 
 "Thank you; that's better," and Sylvia jumped 
 down from the chair. 
 
 They stood facing each other. "Will you answer 
 me one more question before I have to go?" said 
 Bob. 
 
 "Why, yes, if I can," smiled Sylvia. 
 
 "You are perfectly sure and certain that your 
 giving up your position at the store had nothing 
 to do with me ?" 
 
 "Certainly, I have told you that already." 
 
 "I know you did, but I just wanted to make sure. 
 You see, you don't realize how it hurt me that day 
 when you refused to let me call at your home." 
 
 "But I have explained that, too, haven't I ? I was
 
 86 THE LURE 
 
 just a little snob. I didn't want you to see how 
 circumstances were. I can see, though, how unfair 
 I was to you now. I am honestly sorry. You'll 
 forgive me, won't you?" 
 
 "Forgive you? Why, there is nothing for me to 
 forgive. You had a perfect right to choose your 
 friends." Then, with a twinkle in his eye, he 
 added : "And now just one little question more." 
 
 "Good gracious," said Sylvia, "you are a regular 
 catechism !" 
 
 "That last day I saw you at the store the last 
 glimpse I got of you a woman was leaning across 
 the counter talking to you. I saw her hand you a 
 visiting card. Was she a friend of yours?" 
 
 "A friend? No," said Sylvia; "just a chance ac- 
 quaintance. How funny you should speak of her, 
 though," she continued. "I have been thinking of 
 her all the afternoon." 
 
 "Haven't you seen her since that day?" 
 
 "No; and I put that card away carefully some- 
 where. I must look for it to-night. I can't remem- 
 ber either her name or address. She was awfully
 
 THE LURE 87 
 
 sweet and kind that day. I had been telling her 
 that I wanted to get some extra work to do in the 
 evenings." 
 
 "Oh," said Bob in a rather relieved tone; "that 
 was it," and he changed the subject. 
 
 "Well, good-bye until to-morrow," he said. "I 
 might have to use your fire escape again in the 
 morning. Do you mind?" 
 
 "Not at all ; I am sure mother will be glad to see 
 you." 
 
 "And, anyway," he added, with a twinkle in his 
 eye, "if I don't need the fire escape I've got to 
 bring that flower pot. I shall have more leisure 
 then," he continued meaningly; "and, if you don't 
 mind, I am going to tell you all my reasons then 
 for investing in that silver picture frame." 
 
 The girl laughed. "Good night. You'll be wel- 
 come any time, Mr. MacAuley. I hope you catch 
 your man." 
 
 "Vait a minute vait a minute!" said the doctor, 
 coming in hurriedly from the bedroom. "I'll go 
 along downstairs with you." Then turning to Syl-
 
 88 THE LURE 
 
 via, "Make your mother go to sleep as soon as you 
 can," he told her. 
 
 As the door closed behind the two men Sylvia 
 hurried to her mother. 
 
 "Mother, dear," she said, "you heard what the 
 doctor said; it's time that you went to sleep." 
 
 "But I am not a bit sleepy," she protested ; "and, 
 besides, my dear child, you haven't had anything to 
 eat yet. Let me get up just for a little while and 
 help you get the dinner." 
 
 "Not a step, mother, out of your chair to-night. 
 You must save all your strength. Dr. Goldberg 
 and I are going to work out a little plan for that 
 trip to the country, and, besides, I could not eat a 
 thing now. I have got something very important to 
 do." 
 
 While she was speaking Sylvia was rummaging 
 in the pigeon-holes of the writing desk in the cor- 
 ner of the bedroom. 
 
 "Oh, thank goodness, here it is," she exclaimed 
 as she came across a visiting card. 
 
 "Listen, mother," she continued as she began to
 
 THE LURE 89 
 
 pin her hat on, "I have got to leave you for about 
 half an hour." 
 
 "Oh, Sylvia, you mustn't go out again to-night. 
 It's so late, I hate to think of you being on the 
 street at this hour. Please don't go." 
 
 "But I must, mother dear; this is business. It's 
 for you, mother. I have got a chance a chance to 
 do some extra work at night." 
 
 "Working all day in the store is enough for any 
 woman, Sylvia ; you must not do it. You must have 
 some extra rest or you will break down. Whose 
 card is that?" she exclaimed apprehensively. 
 
 Sylvia handed the card to her mother. "It's the 
 card of Madam Katherine Lockwood," she said. 
 
 "Who is she?" 
 
 "A lady who used to come to the silk stocking 
 counter when I was in the store. She is a busi- 
 ness woman. She runs an employment agency, and 
 one day while we were talking it's almost a year 
 ago now I said something to her about wanting 
 to get some extra work. She was awfully sweet 
 and kind. She gave me her card and she told me
 
 90 THE LURE 
 
 that if I would come to the agency she was quite 
 sure she could get me some work to do in the 
 evenings." 
 
 "But it is too late, my child; the agency will be 
 closed now. Why go to-night?" 
 
 "No, it won't, mother. She was most particular 
 about that. She told me that her agency always 
 kept open until ten o'clock. Now, don't let's argue 
 about it any more, mother. I feel that I must go. 
 If I don't go to-night I may be losing a chance of 
 making a lot of extra money. I ought to have gone 
 long ago. But, you see, I lost the card and I 
 couldn't remember her name or address, and then 
 to-night why, it seems just like Fate, mother. 
 Just now, while Mr. MacAuley and I were talking, 
 he brought the whole matter back to my mind. 
 
 "He saw the woman speaking to me in the shop 
 one day, and to-night he asked me what her name 
 was. I couldn't remember, and now, here at last, 
 I've found her card. Why, mother, this may be the 
 very means that God is taking to bring better luck 
 to us at last. If Mr. MacAuley had not mentioned
 
 "NO HARM HAS EVER COME TO ME, MOTHER, HAS IT?" p. 91
 
 THE LURE 91 
 
 her I should never have thought of it again; but I 
 should never forgive myself if I missed this chance 
 now, so you must let me go, momsey you really 
 must." 
 
 "Wait till the morning, darling. Please don't 
 go to-night," her mother entreated. 
 
 "But to-morrow I won't have a moment. What 
 chance have I to get away from the shop?" 
 
 "It's dangerous for a girl as pretty as you are to 
 go out alone at this time of night, Sylvia." 
 
 "Nonsense, mother; don't be nervous and silly." 
 
 "But I am nervous, and I am not silly, Sylvia." 
 
 "No harm has ever come to me, mother, has it?" 
 
 "Not yet ; but there are pitfalls, traps, things that 
 you don't know anything about, my baby." 
 
 Sylvia was drawing on her gloves now. "Not for 
 any girl who minds her own business, and does not 
 invite trouble, mother. I know that. Don't worry, 
 mother." Sylvia leaned over and kissed her. 
 
 "God bless you, dear," said the mother. 
 
 "And you, too," answered Sylvia. "Don't worry, 
 dear, I'll be back in less than half an hour."
 
 92 THE LURE 
 
 After leaving her mother's room, Sylvia stood a 
 moment lost in thought. Then, turning the handle 
 of the door resolutely, she stepped out once more 
 into the darkness of the night.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 "Well, that's not going to help us. We are all 
 four in this thing right up to our necks you just as 
 much as any of the three of us so I wouldn't be 
 so confident, if I were you, Carrie." 
 
 Madam Kate Lockwood, seated at her desk in the 
 private office of her employment agency, was in a 
 furious state of mind. Her gestures, her actions 
 and her language all betrayed that fact unmistak- 
 ably. She was a woman of forty, very well pre- 
 served and still possessed of a good deal of that 
 remarkable beauty for which she had been famous 
 twenty years ago. She acted like a caged tigress as 
 she glared at her colored maid Carrie and hurled 
 at her woolly black head a veritable shower of 
 curses. 
 
 Carrie, for her part, was extremely calm. The 
 desk at which Mrs. Lockwood sat was covered with 
 
 the latest editions of the evening papers, and in all 
 
 93
 
 94 THE LURE 
 
 of them huge headlines proclaimed the fact that a 
 rich banker's daughter of Springfield, Massachu- 
 setts, had mysteriously disappeared. 
 
 "Now, what's the use, Miss Kate, of your getting 
 so fussed up about it ? Much worse things than this 
 has happened to us before. Seems to me your tem- 
 perament gets more and more nervous the longer 
 you live. Now, with me, it's just the other way. I 
 grow calmer and calmer the older I grows. I guess 
 if the truth was known at heart I must be a Chris- 
 tian Scientist." 
 
 "Shut up, you fool !" cried Kate Lockwood furi- 
 ously. "Haven't you any sense at all? God! why 
 doesn't Paul come? I shall go mad if he keeps me 
 waiting here much longer, and that big bully, Jim 
 Wilson, I never can lay my hands on that man when 
 I need him." 
 
 She snatched up the telephone receiver from the 
 desk. "Hello! hello!" she cried. "Give me 419 
 Postley. Be quick, please, I am in a great hurry! 
 Hello! Is this the Waverly Club? This is Mrs. 
 Lockwood. Is that you, Cora? Yes, yes, this is
 
 THE LURE 95 
 
 Mrs. Lockwood. Don't you hear? Has Mr. Paul 
 come in yet? Well, the instant he does come send 
 him right up here to the agency. Don't let him 
 wait to telephone or ask any questions. You tell 
 him I said he should come here at once. It is im- 
 portant very! Tell him I shan't leave here until 
 he comes." 
 
 She lowered her voice a little and then continued : 
 "Everything all right, Cora? That's good. Don't 
 admit any callers under any circumstances until I 
 get there to-night. You understand. Listen, Cora." 
 She dropped her voice still lower until it was almost 
 a whisper. "When Mr. Paul comes, tell him to 
 hurry. Say that I said it was a question of life or 
 death." 
 
 She hung up the receiver and picked up one of the 
 evening papers, but her hand was shaking so that 
 she could scarcely see to read it. The woman was 
 white as death. "For heaven's sake, get me my 
 smelling salts, Carrie, quick !" 
 
 "Come, come, Miss Kate, you must brace up 
 now," exclaimed Carrie, as she brought the salts.
 
 96 THE LURE 
 
 "I never seen you lose your nerve so quick before." 
 "I've never had such reason to lose my nerve be- 
 fore. You talk like a fool, Carrie an idiot ! After 
 all the years you have been in my employ, can't you 
 realize what we are up against now ? Don't you see 
 what this thing means for all of us if the police get 
 on?" 
 
 "Pooh!" said Carrie contemptuously. "But the 
 police ain't going to get on, Miss Kate. You know 
 that. Think of all the troubles we's been in before. 
 You know just as well as I do, Miss Kate, that Mr. 
 Wilson couldn't afford to let the police put as much 
 as a little finger on you." 
 
 "This is a case that's too big even for Jim Wilson. 
 It's big enough, Carrie, to lead all four of us almost 
 to the electric chair. Do you realize that ? Twice in 
 the month. Good God!" She pressed her hands 
 against her eyes as though to shut out the sight. 
 "And each time I blame you more for it than any 
 one else. In fact, in this last case you are the only 
 person who is to blame at all. You were the only one 
 who saw her when Paul first brought her in. Why
 
 THE LURE 97 
 
 didn't you watch her more closely. Good Lord ! if 
 I had the slightest suspicion that she would do a 
 thing like that I would have tied her up and never 
 have had my eyes off her for a moment !" 
 
 "What did I have to suspect her for?" expostu- 
 lated the girl. "She was just like all the others that 
 Mr. Paul brings in ; only quieter than most of them. 
 I thought he had doped her." 
 
 "That wouldn't be extraordinary. Probably he 
 had," said Kate grimly. 
 
 "Well, how was I to know then ?" 
 
 "Didn't she talk to you at all? Didn't she say 
 anything about herself? What did she say about 
 Paul?" 
 
 "She didn't say nothin', not a word, excep' once ; 
 yes, I remember now. She asked me where her hus- 
 band was, and when I asked her who she meant by 
 her husband, she said she meant the gentleman that 
 had just left her. That was Mr. Paul, of course. 
 That happened the first day, just about two hours 
 after he had brought her in. After that she just sat 
 there on the sofa, dazed and dopey like. Sometimes
 
 98 THE LURE 
 
 she'd cry a little, but not for long. She seemed 
 sort of all in; but she never said a word. Never, 
 after that first time, did she speak to me once. She 
 had a wedding ring on her finger, and she kept turn- 
 ing it round and round and round. Why, Miss 
 Kate, she was so calm it just sort of gave me the 
 jumps to watch her. If she'd even fought me it 
 would've been a relief." 
 
 "Poor little devil," said Kate Lockwood, gazing 
 into space. 
 
 "But what's the use of worryin' and takin' on so, 
 Miss Kate?" continued Carrie. "You're that ten- 
 der-hearted an' full of sympathy, if it wasn't for me 
 lookin' after you and keepin' you from givin' your 
 sympathy and your money to folks that don't de- 
 serve it, you'd just let yourself get all run down, 
 both in your pocket and your health." 
 
 "My conscience will be the death of me yet, Car- 
 rie," said the woman. "I almost wish I was in that 
 little Springfield girl's place right now." 
 
 "Don't talk that way, Miss Kate ; that's bad luck 
 for you. It's right down sinful for a woman that's
 
 THE LURE 99 
 
 got all you've got to live for to talk that way. Let 
 Mr. Paul do a little of the worryin'. Ain't that one 
 of the reasons why you went and married him?" 
 
 "One of them, yes." Kate curled her lips sarcas- 
 tically. 
 
 "You've told me that yourself, Miss Kate, when 
 I expressed my surprise that you should marry a 
 man so far below you in the social scale. I remem- 
 ber the very words you said: 'Carrie/ you said to 
 me, 'it's absolutely necessary that I should have 
 some one some man to take my business responsi- 
 bilities off my shoulders. I'm sick of facing the 
 music all the time.' Those were the very words you 
 said, Miss Kate." 
 
 "Well, it's up to Paul this time, and to Jim Wil- 
 son, too," remarked Kate. 
 
 "Take it from me, Mr. Paul will do no worryin', 
 he's too clever. The police ain't never got anything 
 on him yet, and they ain't a-goin' to. Then there's 
 Mr. Wilson. He's got to protect you, ain't he? 
 And you know, Miss Kate, just as well as I do, there
 
 100 THE LURE 
 
 ain't no politician in town has got as big a pull as 
 Jim Wilson." 
 
 "That reminds me I must call him up!" ex- 
 claimed Kate, suddenly becoming business-like 
 again. "Look up his house number for me not 
 the office, you fool! I know that. He won't be 
 there." 
 
 Carrie picked up the telephone book and looked at 
 Kate in a protesting sort of way. "But, good Lord, 
 Miss Kate, you ain't goin' to telephone to his 
 home?" 
 
 "Why not?" asked Kate roughly. 
 
 "Why, you never done that before, Miss Kate; 
 never once, since the day he got married. It will 
 make him powerful mad. You know that. Don't 
 get him all riled up, Miss Kate, for whenever he 
 gets into one of his tempers he always pours it all 
 out on you. I wouldn't do that, if I were you, Miss 
 Kate," the girl continued pleadingly. "I heard him 
 say once that wife of his never has got her ear 
 away from that phone." 
 
 "This is no time for me to think of his wife,"
 
 THE LURE 101 
 
 exclaimed Kate. "She's bound to hear about this 
 matter sooner or later, anyway, poor soul. Shut 
 up, Carrie, mind your own business. Get me that 
 number quick." 
 
 "Well, if you must have it," drawled Carrie 
 grudgingly, "it's Prairie 7824." 
 
 Kate snatched up the phone and gave the number. 
 "Hello! Is Mr. Wilson there? Might I speak to 
 him for a moment, please? It's his stenographer 
 from the employment agency that wishes to speak 
 to him." 
 
 Kate put her hand over the mouth of the phone 
 and turned to Carrie. "What's your last name, 
 Carrie, I never can remember it." 
 
 "You mean, my real last name?" 
 
 "Of course, you fool," scowled Kate. 
 
 "Well, my mother's name was Rodman. That's 
 the way I always get my letters addressed here." 
 
 Kate made a gesture of silence. "Hello! Yes. 
 He's gone out just a moment ago? Oh, I'm so 
 sorry. When he comes back, will you please tell 
 him that Miss Rodman; yes, R-o-d-m-a-n, the sten-
 
 102 THE LURE 
 
 ographer at the agency, called. Yes; that's right. 
 He'll understand. Please say that there are two 
 gentlemen waiting here to see him on a very impor- 
 tant business matter, and say, please, that I will 
 keep the office open until he comes. Thank you, 
 Mrs. Wilson ; good night." 
 
 "Did she get on to your voice?" said Carrie, bris- 
 tling with curiosity. 
 
 "How should she know my voice? When has 
 she ever heard me speak ?" 
 
 "Well, I don't know, Miss Kate. You know 
 there's something about your voice once you hear 
 it you never forget it. It's such a beautiful voice, 
 Miss Kate, I often wondered why you ain't never 
 gone on the stage." 
 
 "Stop that soft-soap business, Carrie," said Kate 
 sternly. "My head's simply splitting. Like a good 
 girl, go and make me a cup of strong tea." 
 
 "Oh, Miss Kate, I wish you wouldn't drink that 
 tea stuff, you know it always gives you rheumatism. 
 Let me fix you a nice little absinthe frappe. That's 
 the best thing for your nerves, mah dear."
 
 THE LURE 103 
 
 "No absinthe for me to-night," cried Kate. "Get 
 that tea. I've got to keep my head." 
 
 "How about closin' up, Miss Kate?" suggested 
 Carrie, loath to go. 
 
 "I wouldn't dare to not till the regular hour. 
 I've got an idea that the police are watching the 
 place to-night, and if we were to close a moment 
 earlier than usual it would be sure to arouse sus- 
 picion. Go get me that tea." 
 
 A moment after Carrie left the room the door 
 leading from the outer hall opened and a faded- 
 looking little old gentlewoman stepped into the 
 room. She was very plainly dressed, but there was 
 something of distinction about her which immedi- 
 ately caught Kate Lockwood's eye. It made her 
 think of one of her own old aunts in a little town up 
 state. The old lady was plainly embarrassed, and 
 though Kate was furious at this unexpected inter- 
 ruption, she turned to her quite kindly and asked 
 what she wanted. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," said the old lady, "but I am
 
 104 THE LURE 
 
 looking for employment. Are you the manager of 
 this agency ?" 
 
 It seemed to Kate that the sound of the little old 
 lady's voice was the most soothing thing that she 
 had heard in years. 
 
 "Yes, madam, I am ; but I am sorry it is impossi- 
 ble for me to talk business to-night, dearie. You 
 see, I am just closing the office. If you care to 
 call again in the morning I shall be glad to " 
 
 With a weary sigh the little old lady turned to 
 go. "Oh, I am so sorry that I have intruded," 
 she exclaimed; "but I saw by the sign on the win- 
 dow that you kept open in the evenings, and I was 
 so lonely and so worried and so anxious to get 
 something to do." 
 
 "That is our usual custom," interrupted Kate; 
 "but to-night I am obliged to close a little earlier. I 
 have a very bad headache. Besides, to be frank, 
 even if we were to talk business, I am afraid I have 
 no situation just now which I would care to ask you 
 to accept. You see, most of our business is with 
 servants."
 
 THE LURE 105 
 
 "Oh, but I wouldn't care what it was," said the 
 little old lady eagerly. "I would be willing to do 
 anything I must." 
 
 Kate took up a pad and pencil. "Won't you give 
 me your name and address?" she said. 
 
 "My name is Cecilia Bliss," the other replied. 
 "My home until yesterday was in Albany, where I 
 lived with my dead sister's two children. I have al- 
 ways taken care of them since they were babies, and 
 now they have quite grown up and their father has 
 sent for them to join him. This afternoon I saw 
 them sail away to Java, and it wasn't until after the 
 ship sailed that I began to realize that now I am all 
 alone in the world. Of course, I could go back to 
 Albany, but it would be very lonely there for me. 
 I should have to board somewhere, and board costs 
 just as much in Albany, I guess, as it does anywhere 
 else." 
 
 "That's true, I am afraid," said Kate, nodding 
 her head sympathetically. 
 
 "So I thought that perhaps in this great, big city 
 I might find something to do. I am very amenable,
 
 106 THE LURE 
 
 I think. I used to speak French quite nicely when 
 I was a young girl. I could easily brush it up a bit 
 with the aid of my old Fasquelle, if it were neces- 
 sary to be a governess; but, for my own choice, I 
 would much rather have some sort of a home, 
 where I could just see after it and try to make 
 everybody comfortable and happy." The little old 
 lady turned to Kate with a wan little smile. 
 
 "You see, nearly all my life I've lived in other 
 people's homes homes and the making of them for 
 others have always been a specialty of mine." 
 
 "I can well believe that, my dear lady," said Kate 
 very gently. "I have only to look into your sweet 
 face to see it written there. There are thousands 
 and thousands of families longing for some such 
 gentle spirit as you to make their domestic affairs 
 run easily." 
 
 Kate paused and unconsciously she gave a great 
 sigh. 
 
 "But unfortunately they don't apply to my 
 agency. By the way, before I forget it," added
 
 THE LURE 107 
 
 Kate in a more business-like tone, "you haven't yet 
 given me your town address." 
 
 The little old lady looked extremely embarrassed. 
 She blushed and stammered. Finally she said: 
 "Well, to tell you the truth, my dear, I haven't any. 
 Perhaps, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, you 
 might recommend me to some very, very reasonable 
 hotel. You see, my nephews are very young, and 
 perhaps a little thoughtless. I never discussed busi- 
 ness affairs with them, so when they sailed away 
 to-day they had no idea how very low my funds 
 were." 
 
 "Oh, I see," said Kate most sympathetically. She 
 rose and walked over to her desk. There was a 
 pause. Kate was thinking deeply. The little old 
 lady followed her with her eyes. Finally Kate 
 said: "There's a very quiet, respectable hotel, the 
 Martha Washington. It's not very far from here. 
 It's exclusively for women. I shall be only too 
 pleased to engage a room for you there, if you would 
 allow me to." 
 
 "Oh, you needn't mind paying for it now. I'll
 
 108 THE LURE 
 
 take it out of your commission when I have found 
 you steady employment." 
 
 "But, my dear lady," protested little Miss Bliss. 
 
 "Not a word," said Kate smilingly, holding up 
 her hand. She opened the drawer and drawing out 
 her purse pressed a ten-dollar bill into Miss Bliss' 
 hands. "If you will only let me make you this lit- 
 tle advance on your first month's salary, I should be 
 so much obliged to you. You can have no idea what 
 it will mean to me, if you will accept this bill as 
 advance payment," she went on soothingly. "I have 
 a feeling that if you will let me do this little favor 
 for you it would bring me luck." 
 
 The tears welled up in Kate Lockwood's eyes. 
 She turned her head from the little old lady and 
 then said, almost in a whisper : "And to-night I need 
 luck very, very badly." 
 
 "But are you quite sure, my dear, that I will be 
 able to repay you out of my salary? Is it at all 
 certain that you can get me a position ?" 
 
 "I shall do my best," replied Kate confidently.
 
 THE LURE 109 
 
 "and, if I can't, I shall be so glad to have been of a 
 little service to you." 
 
 There were tears in Miss Bliss' eyes now as she 
 poured out her simple thanks to Kate and put the 
 ten-dollar bill in her old-fashioned porte-monnaie. 
 
 "God must have sent me here to you. I don't 
 know what I should have done, my dear. You have 
 been my ministering angel. I was almost penniless, 
 and so very, very lonely. May I, in return," she 
 placed a hand appealingly on Kate's arm and looked 
 up into her face, "may I in return do just a little 
 favor for you, my dear? You seem to be worried 
 and in trouble. You said just now you had a bad 
 headache. May I not take it away?" 
 
 "Take it away," echoed Kate, a little bewildered. 
 "Have you some cure some patent medicine?" 
 
 The little old lady shook her head. Her face 
 broke into a smile. 
 
 "The oldest of all cures, my dear. Older than 
 all the patent medicines." 
 
 "What is it?" asked Kate, with all the eager curi- 
 osity of a child.
 
 110 THE LURE 
 
 "Sit down a moment, my dear here in this chair, 
 and I will show you. That's right. Now let your 
 head lie back, close your eyes." 
 
 Miss Bliss stood behind her and placed the tips 
 of her fingers gently upon her forehead. A peace 
 such as she had not known for years stole into Kate 
 Lockwood's tired brain. 
 
 "There are many names for this cure in many 
 different countries, but I like the old name of it," 
 she said. "They used to call it the laying on of 
 hands." 
 
 "The laying on of hands," repeated Kate drows- 
 ily. "Ah, yes, I remember that it's in the New Tes- 
 tament somewhere, isn't it? I remember reading 
 about it when I was a little girl." 
 
 After that for a minute or two no word was 
 spoken. At last, when Miss Bliss raised her hands 
 from Kate's forehead, she said : "Sometime, if I do 
 get a position, you must let me know you better. 
 It's strange, the moment I entered this room, my 
 dear, I realized that I had found a true, loyal 
 friend. Some day perhaps you will let me come to
 
 THE LURE 111 
 
 your house and see you just a little friendly call 
 to show I haven't forgotten your great kindness." 
 
 In an instant Kate was on her feet. Her face was 
 crimson. "Oh, no, no!" she exclaimed, moving 
 away from the little old lady. "Thank you so very, 
 very much, but that would be utterly impossible 
 quite impossible. I am very much obliged to you. 
 I am so glad you have been of this service to me, 
 but well, to tell you the truth, my husband is such 
 a peculiar man. He never allows me to receive vis- 
 itors. You wouldn't like him." 
 
 "Oh, I am so sorry. I shouldn't have asked you, 
 perhaps. You will forgive me, won't you?" 
 
 At that moment Carrie entered the room and al- 
 most dropped the steaming cup of tea she was bear- 
 ing as she saw the little old lady kissing Kate Lock- 
 wood on the cheek. 
 
 "For de Lawd's sake, Miss Kake," she began ; but 
 Kate, turning on her sternly, silenced her with a 
 glance of the eye. 
 
 "Carrie," she said with authority, "run across the 
 street and call a taxicab one of the regular taxis,
 
 THE LURE 
 
 not the one we usually use. I want you to put this 
 lady, my friend, Miss Bliss, into it, and tell the 
 driver to take her to the Martha Washington Hotel. 
 Pay the fare yourself. Don't forget that. And 
 now, Miss Bliss, good luck. I am very glad and 
 honored to have met you," she concluded. 
 
 Five minutes later, when Carrie returned, she 
 found her mistress with her head buried in her arms 
 on the desk, sobbing bitterly. 
 
 "Foh de love of Gawd, Miss Kate," cried Carrie 
 in a fury of indignation, "can't I leave you for five 
 minutes alone without you plunging right in to all 
 this damn philanthropy? Why, if it wasn't for my 
 tender care of you you wouldn't have a rag to your 
 back, or a penny in the savings bank. It's just a 
 reg'ler sort of a disease with you. You just simply 
 can't keep from giving away money to peoples that 
 don't deserve it, whereas if I just simply ask you 
 for a raise of just five dollars a month you kick just 
 like a reg'ler steer. I'se one of those that believes 
 with King Solomon charity begins at home." 
 
 "Shut up, Carrie," cried Kate, pounding her fist
 
 THE LURE 
 
 upon the desk. "Shut your mouth and listen to 
 me. 
 
 "To-morrow morning, if that old lady comes here 
 tell her I can't see her. I must never see her again. 
 I couldn't stand it. I'll get her a job, if I have to 
 pay some respectable person to engage her. I did 
 what I did to-night for luck and because I couldn't 
 help it." 
 
 "Well, of course, it ain't none of my business, 
 but in my opinion that's mighty expensive kind of 
 luck playing. I'd rather play policy. Now hurry up 
 and drink your tea." 
 
 "Listen, Carrie," said Kate a moment later, "I 
 am going to one of the private rooms to lie down 
 my head is splitting. The instant Paul or Jim Wil- 
 son comes, you come in and wake me. You under- 
 stand. And remember also, I am expecting a lot of 
 new French dresses and Japanese kimonos. I got 
 some wonderful bargains at an auction sale this 
 morning. They are to be delivered here to-night by 
 messenger boy. Sign for them, and put them in
 
 114 THE LURE 
 
 room No. 3. We can take them down in the taxi 
 with us when we go downtown to-night. But, mind 
 now, wake me the moment either of those men 
 comes."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 "Ah never did see anything like that fool Miss 
 Kate," exclaimed Carrie to herself as the door 
 closed behind her mistress. "If 'twasn't for me 
 she'd be a penniless pauper, that's what she'd be, 
 just a penniless pauper," and so saying Carrie tip- 
 toed cautiously to the desk, opened the drawer, took 
 out Kate's purse, and with great alacrity extracted a 
 ten-dollar bill. This bill she immediately deposited 
 in her left stocking. "That's conscience money," 
 she exclaimed, as though excusing herself to her- 
 self. "Every time Miss Kate does any of her fool 
 philanthropies ah always makes good to myself with 
 the same amount. If she's goin' to give anything 
 away at all it ought to be her faithful maid an' sec- 
 retary." 
 
 There was a knock at the door a knock so loud 
 
 that it made Carrie jump apprehensively to her feet 
 115
 
 116 THE LURE 
 
 and drop her skirts hurriedly over her bank account 
 
 "Come in !" she cried in a still small voice. 
 
 A twelve-year-old messenger boy, heavily laden 
 with millinery boxes, entered. 
 
 "Gee!" gasped the youngster out of breath, but 
 not so exhausted that he couldn't take a hasty, curi- 
 ous glimpse around the room. Carrie caught the 
 look and watched him very suspiciously from that 
 moment. 
 
 "Who's goin' to get dolled up in all these glad 
 rags?" continued the messenger boy. "I t'ought 
 this was a cook shop." He turned and looked Car- 
 rie over with an impudent, half- joking stare. "I 
 didn't know youse was runnin' a milliner's shop." 
 
 "This is an employment agency. Didn't you see 
 the sign on the door," answered Carrie. 
 
 "Well, that's all right, dinge, don't get so sore 
 about it. I was just thinkin' how dead swell some 
 of those Irish cooks you get jobs for would look in 
 some of these glad rags." 
 
 "Give me your receipt and get out of here," 
 snapped Carrie.
 
 THE LURE 117 
 
 "Well, you needn't get mad about it sign here." 
 
 She snatched the book from him and signed it 
 hastily. Carrie was in no mood for persiflage. 
 "Now you get out of here quick, and no more back 
 talk." 
 
 "Good night," cried the youngster derisively, and 
 kissed his hand to her. 
 
 Carrie listened while the sound of the boy's foot- 
 steps died away as he passed down the hall. When 
 she heard the sound of the front door slammed be- 
 hind him she stepped inside the private office again 
 and closed the door. "Don't see no use wastin' all 
 this light waitin' for them two. Like as not it will 
 be twelve o'clock before they get here. Ah guess 
 ah'll take a little sleep myself," continued Carrie, 
 yawning. "Ah might as well get it while I can." 
 She turned all the electric lights off, except the one 
 reading light on her mistress' desk. A huge leather 
 lounge stood in the center of the room. On this 
 Carrie threw herself and in less than two minutes 
 was fast asleep. But her siesta was a short one. 
 In less than a quarter of an hour a footstep in the
 
 118 THE LURE 
 
 hall aroused her. As she sprang to her feet the 
 door of the private office opened cautiously and a 
 slightly built young man carrying the shrouded 
 figure of a girl in his arms entered the room. 
 
 "That you, Mr. Paul ? My God ! how you star- 
 tled me. Who's that you got there ?" she whispered. 
 
 "None of your business!" he hissed gruffly. 
 "Come here and help me, you black fool." 
 
 "What are you goin' to do with her? How did 
 you get in ?" 
 
 "By the side door, of course. Help me to carry 
 her into number three." 
 
 Between them they carried the unconscious girl 
 across the passage to one of the small hall rooms. 
 They laid her down on the couch in the corner, 
 then, after watching for a moment and seeing that 
 she gave no sign of returning consciousness, Paul 
 left the room and motioned to Carrie to follow him 
 into the private office. 
 
 Locking the door behind her Carrie followed 
 him. 
 
 "Where's your mistress?" Paul Lafarge ex-
 
 THE LURE 119 
 
 claimed. "Bring her here at once, and then you get 
 out in that hall there and keep your eye on that 
 girl. She'll be coming to before long." 
 
 Carrie flew to obey him. "Miss Kate ! Miss Kate ! 
 Mr. Paul's here ! Get up quick !" she cried, shaking 
 the sleeping woman. 
 
 Kate sprang to her feet and hurried into the pri- 
 vate office. 
 
 "Oh, Paul/' she cried; "thank heavens, you've 
 come at last. Have you been at the club ? Did you 
 hear what's happened?" 
 
 "Yes," he hissed back at her with all the venom 
 of a serpent, "and a fine mess you women have made 
 of this thing. My God Almighty, if we swing for 
 this, it will be only you women to blame, and you 
 don't know the worst of it yet." 
 
 "Why, what's happened now ?" gasped Kate. 
 
 "Why, that new girl. Nell, the one I married last 
 night and brought down to the club early this morn- 
 ing. Just now, when I got down there, she was 
 beginning to realize matters. She started to raise 
 merry hell. I was afraid to risk leaving her down
 
 120 THE LURE 
 
 there under present conditions, so I had to bring her 
 up here." 
 
 "You didn't hurt her?" cried Kate, apprehen- 
 sively. 
 
 "Hurt her? No!" he snarled. "Just made her 
 swallow a couple of silence pills, and gave her a lit- 
 tle jab in the arm with my needle. She's all right 
 for another half hour at least." 
 
 "But the taxi didn't any one see you bring her 
 here?" 
 
 "No; that's all right. I had Dan, our regular 
 man. Between us we smuggled her in through the 
 side door. Don't start worrying about that now." 
 
 Kate turned and looked at him with a world of 
 scorn and fear in her eyes. "Will you ever learn 
 moderation?" she said. 
 
 "Cut that now," retorted Paul viciously. "This is 
 no time for that finesse stuff of yours. Did you 
 think just because the little Springfield girl has given 
 us the slip that I am going to let this other one get 
 away from us after all the trouble I took to get 
 her? Not on your life!"
 
 THE LURE 121 
 
 "Where is she ?" asked Kate, trembling with nerv- 
 ousness. 
 
 "She's in number three for the present, and that 
 black devil of yours, Carrie, is watching her. We'll 
 have to keep her there till morning." 
 
 Kate came closer to him and looked him squarely 
 in the face. "Yes," she said ; "and now, how about 
 the other, the little Springfield girl ? Have you seen 
 the evening papers? How is she to be got out of 
 the club?" 
 
 "Never you mind Jim and I will take care of 
 that. I have to get a drink I am all in." 
 
 "Where are you going for it? There's nothing 
 here but some absinthe, and I shall want that for 
 myself before very long." 
 
 "Don't bother. I am going across the street to 
 the bar. I will be back in ten minutes, so if Jim 
 comes, make him wait." 
 
 "You hurry back as quick as you can," she called 
 after him. "I am in no condition to be left alone 
 even for a moment to-night. I am nearly out of my 
 mind."
 
 THE LURE 
 
 Kate paced the floor for several minutes, then 
 went out into the hallway to where Carrie was 
 keeping watch outside the door of number three. 
 
 "Has she stirred yet ? Has she made any noise ?" 
 
 "No, Miss Kate ; she's sleepin' like a lamb. Don't 
 you worry now." 
 
 Kate returned to the private office and began to 
 pace the floor once more. 
 
 A few minutes later Jim Wilson bounced into the 
 room. He was a tall, burly-looking man of fifty. 
 His ruddy face was almost apoplectic with rage, and 
 his bulldog jaw was set in a manner which boded no 
 good for Kate. A single glance at him told Kate 
 the condition of his temper. Instinct and her long 
 and bitter experience with the man decided her to 
 meet him in his own mood and tense. 
 
 Before he could utter a word she had turned on 
 him furiously : "Well, it's about time you got here. 
 How much longer do you and Paul imagine I am 
 going to wait here alone and stand the brunt of all 
 this hellish business ?" 
 
 Whatever Wilson's intentions had been, Kate's
 
 THE LURE 123 
 
 angry tones calmed him down instantly. When he 
 spoke it was almost in an apologetic tone. "I 
 should think that you would know by this time, 
 Kate, that this is the worst time in the whole day 
 for me to get away." 
 
 "But this is urgent and couldn't wait a minute. 
 We've lost hours as it is already." 
 
 A grim look came into his face as, nodding his 
 head at her, he said sternly: "Well, no matter how 
 urgent the case, no matter what's at stake, don't you 
 ever phone me again at my home. Do you realize 
 that that was my wife you were talking to on the 
 wire?" 
 
 "Yes, certainly I do," retorted Kate. "I can't 
 help that; I don't care anything about her." 
 
 "Well, we won't discuss that," said Wilson, with 
 a little wave of his hand. 
 
 "Don't worry, I am not anxious to discuss her," 
 snapped Kate; "at least, not now, anyway. I am 
 too upset. There's too much at stake." 
 
 "Nonsense, nonsense," returned Wilson, with a 
 beaming smile. "That's the trouble with you women
 
 124 THE LURE 
 
 in this sort of game. When the least little thing 
 goes wrong you get reckless, you lose your heads." 
 
 "Yes, I know," sneered Kate ; "it's too bad about 
 us women." 
 
 "Haven't I always told you, my dear, that worry 
 means an early finish ?" continued Wilson patroniz- 
 ingly. "Keep a clear head. Look at me. Did you 
 ever see me even flustered?" 
 
 "Yes, look at you !" sneered Kate again. "A fine, 
 noble specimen of a man ; and as for that early finish 
 you talk of well, perhaps, I am not so sure that it 
 isn't the one thing we can be certain of." 
 
 Wilson laughed harshly. 
 
 "Ah, but you forget, Kate," he said sarcastically. 
 "You can always reform." 
 
 "Reform?" she echoed bitterly. "Reform, re- 
 form. I could not, even if I wanted to." 
 
 A faraway look came into her face. She turned 
 and looked at him contemptuously. 
 
 "Do you want to reform?" asked Wilson, as 
 though he were speaking to some foolish child. 
 
 "Yes, sometimes," said Kate, very seriously.
 
 THE LURE 125 
 
 For a moment Wilson seemed to catch something 
 of the seriousness of her spirit. 
 
 "I guess you do get sick of it once in a while, 
 Kate; it's a pretty rough life for a woman after 
 all." 
 
 "Sometimes," repeated Kate pensively and as 
 though she were not listening. 
 
 Wilson became even more patronizing as he con- 
 tinued: "The straight and narrow does look good 
 now and then, don't it?" 
 
 "Yes," Kate retorted bitterly; "after you and I 
 have gotten so far away from it that we couldn't 
 find it with a search warrant." 
 
 "Oh, maybe it will find us then," said Wilson with 
 a sardonic smile. 
 
 Kate leaned her hands on the desk and looked at 
 him significantly. "The warrant may," she an- 
 swered grimly. 
 
 Jim Wilson sprang to his feet. His face paled. 
 "What do you mean about warrant? What's gone 
 wrong?" he exclaimed. 
 
 "Plenty," said Kate, glaring at him.
 
 126 THE LURE 
 
 "Well, why don't you tell me about it? Why 
 have you been wasting time gabbing foolish, senti- 
 mental stuff here? Damn it, woman, what's the 
 matter? You look as if you had seen a ghost!" 
 
 Kate rose and faced him. "I have," she said 
 grimly. 
 
 "You didn't hustle me down here to show it to 
 me, did you?" 
 
 "Yes, I did," she answered curtly, "and to help 
 me to get rid of it, too." 
 
 "Well, what is it?" 
 
 "Another one of the girls committed suicide two 
 hours ago at the downtown place." 
 
 "Another? Good God! Why, that's two in a 
 month, isn't it?" 
 
 "Yes," said Kate. 
 
 "Huh !" said Wilson, making an attempt to smile. 
 "I guess we'd better take an undertaker in partner- 
 ship with us." 
 
 "Yes ; and a coroner, too," retorted Kate. 
 
 Wilson looked up at her quickly. His face was
 
 THE LURE 127 
 
 now almost as white as hers. "What makes you say 
 that ? What do we need a coroner for ?" 
 
 "To keep him from asking too many questions," 
 answered Kate. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "Or giving out too much information." 
 
 "What do you mean by that?" said Wilson very 
 gravely. "Was there any funny business about this 
 suicide?" 
 
 "No ; not in the way you mean." 
 
 "How did she do it?" 
 
 "Strangled herself with a towel," answered Kate 
 as she began to pace the floor again. 
 
 "Which one was she ?" cried Wilson, mopping the 
 perspiration from his forehead. 
 
 "We never saw her. She was a young girl Paul 
 got the other day fine family, and all that. He 
 had to marry her to get her, of course. That's al- 
 ways his long suit. Then, when he got her down 
 there and told her in plain English what she was 
 up against, she fainted." 
 
 "That's natural, of course; most of them do," said
 
 128 THE LURE 
 
 Wilson in a casual tone, as though he were listen- 
 ing to some old story. 
 
 "When she came to," continued Kate, "she fought 
 like a little devil to get out." 
 
 "Did Paul beat her up?" asked Wilson abruptly. 
 
 "Not that I know of not as badly as usual, any- 
 way. From what he says he was as easy with her 
 as possible. Carrie took her clothes away and locked 
 her up." 
 
 "Did they feed her?" 
 
 "No; but she didn't actually suffer." 
 
 "That's good. I am glad there are no marks," 
 said Wilson in a satisfied tone. 
 
 Kate ceased walking and sat down at her desk 
 before she continued her story. 
 
 "About one o'clock to-day Carrie went up to see 
 her. She tried to talk reason to her. Told her that 
 the only thing for her to do was to submit ; but she 
 just sulked. She wouldn't talk at all. Carrie says 
 that she thinks she was still half doped, but two 
 hours later, when she went back to the room again, 
 she found her lying dead on the floor."
 
 THE LURE 129 
 
 "Huh ! that's bad," said Wilson coolly, for he had 
 now entirely recovered his self-possession. "These 
 things are always disagreeable. Still," he went on 
 more confidently, "I don't see any particular reason 
 why we should worry. I can have that death certifi- 
 cate fixed all right." 
 
 "Can you ?" snapped Kate bitterly, as she sprang 
 up from her chair and thrust the copy of an evening 
 paper into Wilson's hands. "Read this, then. Per- 
 haps it will change your tune." 
 
 Wilson recoiled from the paper as though it were 
 a snake. He dropped it to the floor. Kate stooped 
 and picked it up. 
 
 "Very well, then," she said with a sneer, "if you 
 are such a coward that you can't read it for yourself 
 I will read it to you. Listen to this : 
 
 " 'Banker's daughter missing, special from 
 Springfield. The police of all cities have been 
 notified to search for Charlotte Baker, daugh- 
 ter of Robert Baker, President of the Mutual 
 Bank, who disappeared from her home five 
 days ago.' "
 
 130 THE LURE 
 
 "Kate," cried Wilson, springing to his feet and 
 snatching the paper from her hands, "do you mean 
 to tell me that this girl was " 
 
 Yes," she answered, "she was Charlotte Baker t"
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 Wilson's face went white. "Good God!" he ex- 
 claimed. "If what you say is true if that girl is 
 Charlotte Baker we are in a hole. Why, not five 
 five minutes ago," he continued excitedly, "the cap- 
 tain of this precinct was talking to me about this 
 case. He has had no less than three telegrams with- 
 in the last two hours from the chief of police at 
 Springfield. They are burning the wires up hunt- 
 ing for her. There's a big reward offered. Every 
 detective agency will be on the case. Those damned 
 federal officers will get it, too." 
 
 "Well," said Kate calmly, "who knows about this 
 only Paul and Carrie and me?" 
 
 "None of the others? Good! You haven't noti- 
 fied the coroner?" 
 
 "I left that for you to do," said Kate. "That's al- 
 ways been your specialty." 
 
 "Where is Paul ?" said Wilson. 
 131
 
 132 THE LURE 
 
 "He's gone out to get a drink. He will be back 
 in a minute ah, here he comes now." 
 
 "Hello, J-i-m !" drawled Paul, making a very ob- 
 vious effort to seem unconcerned. "How's every- 
 thing?" 
 
 Jim Wilson gazed at the cadet for several mo- 
 ments. His lips curled in an angry snarl. "Seems 
 to me you are taking things pretty easy," he ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 "Well, why not ?" snapped Paul, with a good deal 
 of significance in his tone. 
 
 "For a fellow that is skating on such thin ice 
 you're chucking a good deal of bluff." 
 
 Paul turned on him quickly. "What are you get- 
 ting at ? Cut out all this riddle stuff. I s'pose you 
 are talking about the Baker girl?" 
 
 "That's just who I am talking about," answered 
 Wilson. "What have you got to say about it?" 
 
 Paul gave a sigh. He shook his head commiser- 
 atingly, as though he was sympathizing with his own 
 hard luck story. "Tough luck, ain't it?" he ex- 
 claimed. "She was a pretty little kid, but she fooled
 
 THE LURE 133 
 
 me. I never thought she would have the nerve to 
 kill herself." 
 
 "Did she?" exclaimed Wilson, with grim signifi- 
 cance. 
 
 Paul's little, beady eyes flashed indignantly. "Do 
 you think I killed her ?" he snapped back at Wilson. 
 
 "That's just what I am trying to find out." 
 
 "Well, I guess not," said Paul, laughing sarcasti- 
 cally. "What would I want to do that for? She'd 
 a been worth a whole lot of money to me." 
 
 "Did you beat her up?" 
 
 "Oh, not much just enough to make her quit 
 fighting and come down to earth." 
 
 "How did you get her?" 
 
 Paul was strutting up and down the room now, 
 seemingly enjoying Wilson's rage and discomfiture. 
 
 "Oh, scouting around Springfield. It was as easy 
 as falling off a log. I saw her in an ice cream soda 
 shop one day. She made a hit with me." 
 
 "A banker's daughter, eh?" 
 
 "Oh, that didn't cut any ice with me," continued 
 Paul. "You know I always go in for class."
 
 134 THE LURE 
 
 "You may wish you hadn't in this case," said 
 Wilson sternly. 
 
 "I followed out my regular method," continued 
 Paul. "I found out the church she went to, then I 
 went to the first church sociable and made a play 
 for her Sunday-school teacher. You know those 
 affairs they have at small country churches where 
 every one gets an even break. She didn't live right 
 in Springfield, you know. Her father had a fine old 
 place out in one of the suburbs. That made it all 
 the easier. 
 
 "Then, when I met her, I told her my father was 
 a banker, too." 
 
 "How did you get her to come to New York?" 
 
 Paul threw out his chest and stretched himself. 
 "Say," he exclaimed sneeringly, "cut this catechism 
 business. You know as well as I do how I got her, 
 I guess. She fell for me fell in love with me like 
 they all do." 
 
 Wilson muttered an oath under his breath. 
 
 "She said she was lonesome," Paul continued.
 
 THE LURE 135 
 
 "Couldn't live without me, and all that sort of 
 stuff. Finally she agreed to elope with me." 
 
 "Did her father ever see you ?" 
 
 "Only once, and, gee! say, I made a hit with the 
 old guy, too. We talked Sunday-school for half an 
 hour." 
 
 "Can he put it on you ?" 
 
 "I guess not nothing like that. Why, I married 
 her on a last year's revenue license, didn't I, Kate?" 
 He turned to his wife for corroboration, but she, 
 seated at her desk, with her face hidden in her 
 hands, made no answer. "Big Jacobs performed the 
 ceremony," Paul went on, "and a couple of Chicago 
 dips were witnesses." 
 
 Paul paused, lit another cigarette and turned to 
 Wilson again. 
 
 "Say, Jim," he exclaimed, "you make me sick. 
 If they can put this on me I'll put a bib on and let 
 you take me back to the kindergarten." 
 
 Wilson jumped to his feet and faced him. "Well, 
 by God !" he cried, "I'll tell you one thing : if they
 
 136 THE LURE 
 
 do put it on you you won't like the kind of kinder- 
 garten they are going to send you to." 
 
 Paul walked deliberately up to Wilson and looked 
 him in the eye menacingly. 
 
 "Well, if they do send me to a kindergarten, I'll 
 have a great, big politician along to keep me from 
 getting lonesome." 
 
 "None of that now," said Wilson, taking a step 
 backward. "Don't you try any of that threatening 
 stuff on me." 
 
 "Stop it, Paul !" called Kate warningly. 
 
 "Well, it goes, every word of it!" cried Paul, 
 rounding on them both. 
 
 "What's the use of you two quarreling at a time 
 like this?" cried Kate. "Stop it, I say, we are only 
 losing time." 
 
 Then, turning on Wilson, she said curtly : "Well, 
 Paul has told you his story ; now what have you got 
 to say, and, what's more important, what are you 
 going to do ?" 
 
 Wilson's tone moderated. "If what he says is 
 true, and there wasn't any funny business about her
 
 THE LURE 137 
 
 death, I guess we can scrape through. It will be 
 safe enough," he continued, more reassuringly. "I 
 think I can fix it." 
 
 "Funny business," sneered Paul, still resenting 
 Wilson's insinuation that he had killed her. "Have 
 you seen her yet?" 
 
 "No," said Wilson, "I only just got here a mo- 
 ment ago." 
 
 "Well, then, the best thing you can do is go down- 
 town and look her over yourself." 
 
 "I guess perhaps I'd better." 
 
 Wilson picked up his hat and prepared to go, but 
 as he reached the door Kate stopped him. 
 
 "This is no time for you two to quarrel, Jim," 
 she said. "Stop scrapping, Paul ; you two boys had 
 better go across the street and get a drink before 
 you go downtown. You go ahead over, Jim, and I'll 
 send Paul in a moment. I want to speak to him 
 just for a second. It's nothing about you." 
 
 "Well, hurry up, whatever it is. I'll wait for him 
 across the street." 
 
 As the door of the private office closed on Wilson
 
 138 THE LURE 
 
 Paul turned savagely on Kate. "What's the matter 
 with you, anyhow ?" he snarled at her. 
 
 "I'm frightened, Paul afraid afraid, as I have 
 never been before in my life," she cried. 
 
 "Aw, forget it," sneered Paul. "Where's your 
 nerve ?" 
 
 And as though to give her courage he walked to 
 the electric switch and turned on all the lights. 
 
 "Don't do that, Paul," cried Kate. "I am just 
 going to close the office for the night. I don't want 
 any more people coming in here." 
 
 "Well, there is no use in your sitting around here 
 in the dark, just because you happen to be afraid of 
 your own shadow." 
 
 "Now about Wilson, Paul ; for God's sake, use a 
 little discretion. He loathes you, you know that." 
 
 "Well, what of it; the only real grudge he's got 
 against me is that I married you." 
 
 Kate smiled bitterly. "That grudge works two 
 ways, Paul. He's never forgiven me for marrying 
 you. He says the only reason we did it was so that 
 we couldn't testify against each other."
 
 THE LURE 139 
 
 "Well, perhaps he is not so far wrong at that; 
 but as far as protection goes in this case he can't 
 wriggle out of it anyway. He's had his rake-off 
 regularly, ain't he ; and now he has got to stand by 
 us. If he don't he'll be the leader of a chain gang 
 instead of a district." 
 
 "But humor him, Paul; for God's sake humor 
 him to-night," pleaded Kate. "When he hears about 
 this other girl, Nell, he is going to be crazy ; that's 
 what I want to speak to you about. You must not 
 leave her here to-night." 
 
 "She's right here, and it's right here that she's 
 going to stay," said Paul. 
 
 "You haven't hurt her, at least not seriously?" 
 said Kate anxiously. 
 
 "No, I haven't hurt her. Didn't I tell you that be- 
 fore? I just gave her a shot with this new-fangled 
 dope gun I got from Skinny Johnson to-day." As 
 he spoke Paul drew out of his waistcoat pocket a 
 tiny syringe. "It's the slickest thing yet; I never 
 saw one before; say, Kate, it's simply great. It 
 carries about half a drop of some Chinese stuff that
 
 140 THE LURE 
 
 makes them dreamy in less than a minute ; see." He 
 held the syringe out toward Kate for her inspection ; 
 but, shuddering, she turned away. 
 
 "Take it away, I don't want to see it." 
 
 Paul continued to handle the syringe as though it 
 were some rare jewel. "It's got the tiniest sort of 
 a needle, with a little guard on it that lets it only 
 just puncture the skin. It don't hurt much. Skinny 
 says he uses it in moving-picture places ; on the street 
 even. He picks out a girl that looks good to him 
 and slides up close to her and lets her have a shot in 
 the arm. She thinks a pin has pricked her, or a bee 
 stung her in fact, she don't have time to think 
 much ; she's dopey in a minute or so. Then he stays 
 right along with her, and when she goes faint or 
 falls unconscious he does the big brother act, and 
 gets her in a cab, and then well, good night for her 
 after that." 
 
 "I don't want to hear anything about it, I tell 
 you," cried Kate. "Take it away." 
 
 Paul gave a sneering laugh. "Say, if you are go- 
 ing to travel with me, Kate, you want to know
 
 THE LURE 141 
 
 everything that's going, just to keep up with the 
 profession." 
 
 "No, no, put it away," cried Kate; "it gives me 
 the creeps." 
 
 "You're a terrible coward, old girl," said Paul, in 
 a more kindly tone, as he put the syringe back in his 
 pocket ; "though, to tell you the truth, I don't think 
 so much of it, either. It's too easy; there's a lot 
 more fun in winning a girl than doping her ; the ex- 
 citement of a chase for mine." 
 
 "But, now about Nell, Paul," said Kate, harping 
 back to the old subject. "You are not going to keep 
 her here to-night ?" 
 
 "Yes, I am." 
 
 "It's too risky." 
 
 "No, it's not," hissed Paul. 
 
 "But it is, Paul," reiterated Kate; "there are a 
 thousand reasons." 
 
 "Damn your reasons ! I have got no time to listen 
 to them. Nobody has got the least connection be- 
 tween this employment agency and the Waverly 
 Club. They'd search a year and never find her."
 
 142 THE LURE 
 
 Kate opened the door and beckoned to Carrie. 
 Carrie came in and closed the door. "You are sure 
 there is nothing in the room she can hurt herself 
 with ?" asked Kate. 
 
 "Yes, mum, perfectly sure; I seen to that," Carrie 
 replied. 
 
 "Ah, what's the use of worryin'," said Paul. 
 "Nell hasn't got nerve enough to do anything like 
 that." 
 
 Kate turned on him bitterly. "That's what you 
 thought about the little Springfield girl. Oh, my 
 God, I'd give anything if that hadn't happened." 
 
 "Ah, don't worry; a girl's a girl," exclaimed Paul 
 indifferently. "The world's full of them ; so what's 
 the use." 
 
 "Excuse me, Miss Kate," broke in Carrie, "but 
 what must I tell them bench warmers still out there 
 in the waiting-room ?" 
 
 "The office is closed, I tell you," said Kate, scowl- 
 ing. "I won't see any of them." 
 
 "Not even that girl?" 
 
 "Nobody," snapped Kate.
 
 THE LURE 143 
 
 "What girl?" asked Paul, suddenly beginning to 
 take an interest. 
 
 "Just a young one that says she's desperate for 
 work, that she must get a job." 
 
 "Is she a good looker?" continued Paul persis- 
 tently. 
 
 "She certainly is that," said Carrie. "She's the 
 best lookin' one that's been around here in a month, 
 and she ain't no cook, either." 
 
 "No," said Kate firmly; "send her away, too." 
 
 At this point Paul took command of the situation. 
 Turning to Carrie, he said : "You send the rest of 
 them away, but keep this good-looking one; I'm 
 going across the street to speak to Wilson. I'll make 
 him go downtown and do his own dirty business for 
 himself, then I'll come right back and take a look at 
 her." 
 
 "No, Paul," cried Kate decisively ; "not to-night ; 
 I won't have it." 
 
 "My dear Kate," said Paul, "business is business. 
 Never pass up a good-looking girl. What do you 
 think we got this shop for, anyhow ?"
 
 144 THE LURE 
 
 Kate threw up her hands in a wild gesture. 
 "That's just it; this cursed agency. After to-night 
 I'm done with it forever ; ugh !" 
 
 She gave a shudder and covered her eyes with her 
 hands. "Listening to these hard-luck stories of 
 cooks and waitresses and scullery maids out of em- 
 ployment. It makes me sick. I can't endure it." 
 
 Paul looked at his wife in amazement. "Well, 
 you're not doing it for the pleasure you get out of it, 
 are you ?" 
 
 "I don't care what we do it for," she cried pas- 
 sionately. "I'm not coming back here another day, I 
 tell you ; I am going to wash my hands of this whole 
 damnable business. To-morrow morning I am go- 
 ing to turn this office over to Carrie." 
 
 Paul took three quick steps toward his wife. 
 
 "Get out of here, Carrie, I want to speak to Mrs. 
 Lockwood." 
 
 As the girl obeyed him Paul slapped his two hands 
 down on Kate's shoulders and turned her face about. 
 
 "So you are going to turn this business over to 
 Carrie, are you ?" he hissed at her.
 
 THE LURE 14,5 
 
 "Yes, I am," Kate reiterated stoutly. 
 
 He shook his head at her and sneered ; "and turn 
 us all over to the police, I suppose. Oh, no, you 
 are not." 
 
 Kate wrenched herself free from him and began 
 to cry. Then she turned to her husband again and 
 laid her right hand pleadingly upon his arm. 
 
 "Paul," she said, "let's sell out and go away." 
 
 "Do what?" yelled Paul, in amazement. 
 
 "Yes, sell out everything; this place, the Waverly 
 Club; all of our rotten connections." 
 
 "What !" cried Paul, as though unable to believe 
 his ears. "Sell out the fattest business in town; a 
 business that pays us 200 per cent, with a political 
 backing that cannot be beat, and this employment 
 agency blind to give us the pick of the market. 
 Why, say, Kate, you've gone clean crazy. You're 
 nutty, my girl." 
 
 "Crazy or not, I mean it," she cried determinedly. 
 
 "Oh, I guess not," retorted Paul, and a brutal look 
 crept into his eyes, as he glared at the woman.
 
 146 THE LURE 
 
 But Kate was too excited now to pay any atten- 
 tion to his threatening looks. 
 
 "We're both still fairly young, Paul. I am older 
 than you, I know, but not so much. Let's make a 
 clean break; let's get away somewhere. My God, 
 we can afford it, we have got enough money. Let's 
 make our marriage good " 
 
 "What's that?" cried Paul, throwing his head 
 back and laughing. 
 
 "Oh, I know what Wilson says, that we only 
 married so that we couldn't testify against each 
 other, but, since we are married, let's make the best 
 of it ; let's go away somewhere, where nobody knows 
 anything at all about us." 
 
 "Now I know you are plumb crazy," cried Paul. 
 "What do you want me to do, reform?' 
 
 "Yes, yes, I do," reiterated Kate. 
 
 Again Paul laughed in a brutal way. 
 
 "My God, you must be scared," he cried. 
 
 "I am, I am," continued Kate. "Worse than ever 
 before; I am going to get out of it all, I tell you; 
 whether you come with me or not, I am going to
 
 THE LURE 147 
 
 break away. It's my one last chance. I feel that. 
 I know it. Something happened to-night which 
 made me sure of it. Oh, not all this suicide stuff. 
 I don't mean that." 
 
 "Well, what do you mean, then?" said Paul 
 coldly. "What was this wonderful miracle that 
 happened to-night?" 
 
 "Perhaps you're not so far wrong," answered 
 Kate. "For all I know, it may have been a sort of 
 miracle, at least in its effect on me. What happened 
 was a dear, sweet little old lady strayed in here by 
 mistake and by her simple trust and faith in me she 
 quite unknowingly, quite unconsciously, made me 
 see and realize all my rottenness, as I never have 
 before." 
 
 Paul pushed her away from him with a gesture 
 of disgust. 
 
 "Ah, you make me sick, Kate," he cried. "You're 
 just like a bum gambler. As soon as you begin to 
 lose you begin to think of swearing off. Now, just 
 tighten up a bit, old girl, get down to cases; pull 
 yourself together. Have Carrie get you an ab-
 
 148 THE LURE 
 
 sinthe; so long, I can't keep Jim waiting any 
 longer." 
 
 He picked up his hat and darted toward the door. 
 
 Before he could open it Kate made her last stand. 
 
 "Ah, Paul," she cried, "please, please, do what I 
 say." 
 
 "Reform?" 
 
 "Yes, let's both of us." 
 
 "Not for mine," exclaimed Paul, shaking his head. 
 "Why, if I reform, there'll be only one thing left 
 for me; I'd have to go to work."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 "What is it, Carrie?" 
 
 Kate, who had thrown herself down on the 
 leather lounge, a veritable picture of despair, when 
 Paul left to join Wilson in the cafe on the corner, 
 looked up suddenly, as the colored girl reentered the 
 room. 
 
 "It's that girl outside, Miss Kate. Ah just can't 
 get rid of her. She just seems desperate like; she 
 won't go. Ah guess she must have heard your voice 
 or something, because she knows you're here, and 
 she don't talk like no ordinary cook, or servant, or 
 nothin'! She seems to know you personally, Miss 
 Kate, and she says it's a matter of life and death 
 with her." 
 
 As Carrie uttered the words "life and death," 
 Kate paled apprehensively. 
 
 "Have you ever seen her before ; did she say how 
 
 she knew me?" 
 
 149
 
 150 THE LURE 
 
 "No, Miss Kate, she didn't say how she knew 
 you, but she just said she knew you. Ah don't think 
 you need be afraid of seein' her, Miss Kate. One 
 thing sure, she ain't no detective." 
 
 Kate pondered for a moment. 
 
 "Perhaps, after all, you'd better let her come in, 
 but hereafter when I tell you to shut up this place 
 you shut it right off," she added, losing her temper 
 suddenly. 
 
 "That's all right, Miss Kate ; ah'll show her in." 
 
 A moment later the door opened and Sylvia, look- 
 ing very pale and haggard, entered the room. 
 
 Kate was seated at her desk, now entirely the 
 business woman in both her poise and manner. Her 
 eyes took in Sylvia with a hurried glance, while the 
 girl stood waiting just inside the door. 
 
 "Come in," said Kate, rather brusquely; then to 
 herself she exclaimed: "There's a girl who is up 
 against it if ever I saw one." 
 
 "Do you want to see me?" she asked, motioning 
 Sylvia to a chair, and speaking in a slightly gentler 
 tone.
 
 THE LURE 151 
 
 "Thank you," said Sylvia, coming forward. "I 
 would like to speak to you very much, if I may." 
 
 "What do you want to see me about?" asked 
 Kate, in a still kindlier tone. 
 
 Sylvia hesitated for a moment, as though at a 
 loss how to begin. 
 
 "Why, you see, you gave me your card one day." 
 
 "Oh, did I ?" said Kate, questioning her. 
 
 "Yes," repeated Sylvia. 
 
 "When was that?" 
 
 "Quite some time ago; nearly a year, in fact." 
 
 "That's quite a long time," smiled Kate, a little 
 unbelievingly. "Perhaps that's why I don't remem- 
 ber it. You see, of course, in my business, I give 
 away a great many of my cards to young girls. 
 But where did all this happen?" 
 
 "At the shop." 
 
 "Oh, then you are a sales-girl, eh ?" 
 
 "Yes," said Sylvia. 
 
 "Perhaps you will remember, when I tell you that 
 we had quite a little chat that day; you were very 
 kind, and when I happened to mention that I was
 
 152 THE LURE 
 
 very anxious to get extra work in the evenings you 
 became interested and gave me your card, and told 
 me that if I'd come here to see you, you thought 
 you might be able to get me work." 
 
 Sylvia, who was watching Kate's face intently, 
 saw to her relief that she did remember. 
 
 "Ah, yes ; wait a minute ; I think I do remember 
 now," replied Kate, with a little smile. "It was at 
 the store, wasn't it, and, let me see, now aren't 
 you the little girl down at the silk stocking counter?" 
 
 "Oh, then you do remember me," said Sylvia 
 eagerly. "I am so glad." 
 
 "Why, of course, I do," said Kate reassuringly. 
 "I was pretty sure I knew you from the first, but 
 I couldn't quite place you. I am very glad to see 
 you. But, tell me, why did you wait all this time to 
 come and see me ? It must be nearly a year, as you 
 say, since I gave you that card." 
 
 "To tell you the truth, I always meant to come, 
 but a day or two after you gave me the card I 
 mislaid it ; and then I got another place " 
 
 "Ah, then you're not at the store any more?"
 
 THE LURE 153 
 
 "No, I went to one of the downtown shops. I 
 got a little more money down there, and then sud- 
 denly to-day," continued Sylvia, "when I was feel- 
 ing very desperate and blue, a chance remark made 
 by a friend of mine made me think of you." 
 
 Kate gave Sylvia a quick look. 
 
 "A chance remark?" she said. "Why, that's 
 strange; who could possibly make a chance remark 
 to you that would make you think of me? I didn't 
 know that we had any mutual friends." 
 
 "Oh," smiled Sylvia, "this man didn't know you ; 
 it just happened in an odd sort of way. I met him 
 to-day for the first time in ever so long, and jok- 
 ingly he asked me if I remembered the last time we 
 had met, and then when I said 'no, I didn't,' he 
 told me that the last time he had seen me was in 
 the store, and that I didn't notice him at all because 
 I was so busy talking to a lady, whom I was serving 
 at the counter, and who presently leaned over and 
 gave me her card. Of course, his saying that 
 brought the incident all back to my mind. You 
 were the lady."
 
 154 THE LURE 
 
 "Yes," smiled Kate, looking exceedingly relieved, 
 "I was the lady, sure enough." 
 
 "Well, after he had left me, I began to think 
 about you, and to try to remember your address. 
 You see I was quite desperate; I've simply got to 
 get extra work, so I went into my room and 
 searched through all my things there, and finally 
 through great good fortune I found your card." 
 
 "That was a bit of luck, wasn't it?" remarked 
 Kate. "Then now, of course, you know who I am." 
 
 "Oh, yes, of course, I do," answered Sylvia con- 
 fidently. "You are Mrs. Katherine Lock wood." 
 
 "That's right, that's my name," said Kate. "Still 
 working at the downtown store?" 
 
 "Yes," answered Sylvia, "but " 
 
 "Then why so badly off for extra work?" asked 
 Kate. 
 
 "To earn more money," said Sylvia, very ear- 
 nestly. 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 "For my mother" there was a little break in 
 Sylvia's voice as she answered a break which made
 
 THE LURE 155 
 
 Kate look at her more sympathetically than before. 
 
 "My mother is desperately ill, and I don't earn 
 enough at the store." 
 
 "Oh," said Kate, nodding her head, "I see, I see." 
 
 In her eagerness to tell her straits Sylvia leaned 
 forward and drew her chair a little closer to Kate's 
 desk. "The doctor said to-night that she must have 
 certain very expensive medicines to-morrow and 
 delicate food, and she can't have any of these 
 things unless I earn the extra money evenings. 
 
 "But, please, I beg your pardon, I don't want 
 to bother you with all my troubles ; I only speak of 
 them because I want you to realize how necessary it 
 is that I should get work at once." 
 
 "Go on, my dear," said Kate, rising from her desk 
 and crossing to the sofa. With a wave of her hand 
 she beckoned Sylvia to follow her. Sylvia obedi- 
 ently sat down beside her on the leather couch. 
 
 "Tell me all about your troubles, I want to hear 
 them ; I have often been in hard luck myself." 
 
 "Oh, but this is worse than hard luck, I'm per- 
 fectly desperate," cried Sylvia, so touched by Kate's
 
 156 THE LURE 
 
 kindness that her eyes were now brimming with 
 tears. "Somehow I have just got to earn a hundred 
 dollars ; it's the only way that I can save her life." 
 
 "How is that?" questioned Kate. 
 
 "Well, you see, the doctor says that she's in a 
 very bad condition, and that in two or three weeks' 
 time after she's had these delicacies and medicines 
 and has been built up a little bit she must under- 
 go a very serious operation." 
 
 "Why not go to the Charity Hospital, then?" 
 
 Somehow it seemed to Sylvia as Kate put this 
 question that her tone and attitude had grown a 
 little colder. 
 
 "She is going there," explained the girl hurriedly, 
 "but the doctor says that even if the operation is a 
 success she can't possibly recover unless she goes to 
 the country after it." 
 
 "And you want the money for that ?" 
 
 Sylvia rose to her feet in her excitement. "I not 
 only want it, but I've got to get it," she exclaimed. 
 "Why, I'd even steal to save mother."
 
 THE LURE 157 
 
 "Why not borrow the hundred dollars?" said 
 Kate. 
 
 Sylvia turned and looked searchingly into her 
 questioner's face. 
 
 "I've tried oh, so hard ; but those few who have 
 the money won't lend it to me ; and those real friends 
 I have, who would do it only too gladly, haven't 
 the money. Believe me, I have tried to borrow it 
 as I never tried for anything in my life." 
 
 "God, 'tis hard to borrow money, when you need 
 it," cried Kate, and the sincerity of her tone con- 
 vinced Sylvia that she knew whereof she spoke. 
 
 Kate turned and scrutinized Sylvia very closely. 
 The girl returned her gaze with frank and truthful 
 eyes. 
 
 Kate rose and took a step toward her. 
 
 "Are you telling me the truth ?" 
 
 Sylvia gave a great sigh and made a pathetic 
 little gesture with both her hands. "Oh, my God," 
 she said, "if it were only not true." 
 
 "And you're really up against it as bad as all 
 that?"
 
 158 THE LURE 
 
 "I haven't told you half," said Sylvia. "I am to 
 be laid off at the store next week ; the times are so 
 bad they are getting rid of thirty of the girls, and 
 I am one of them, but what's the use of my telling 
 you all this. It only distresses you. You can't 
 realize " 
 
 Kate lifted up her hand protestingly. 
 
 "Oh, yes, I can," she said. "I don't think there is 
 a woman living knows better than I what it means." 
 
 As she spoke, Kate crossed to her desk again, 
 opened the drawer, found her purse, and took out 
 a large roll of bills. While she was slowly counting 
 ten ten-dollar bills off the roll the door opened sud- 
 denly and Carrie, who had evidently been listening, 
 swooped down upon her mistress. Her eyes were 
 flashing angrily. She snatched the purse and money 
 out of Kate's hands. 
 
 "When you goin' out, Miss Kate?" she snapped 
 pettishly. "Don't seem to me there's no use your 
 settin' here wastin' your time this hour of the 
 night."
 
 THE LURE 159 
 
 The negress turned and glared at Sylvia, who, 
 abashed and startled, drew away from the table. 
 
 Kate stood motionless for a moment. 
 
 Much to Carrie's secret amazement she made no 
 attempt to resent her snatching the purse. 
 
 After a slight pause Kate said: "Carrie, you 
 have kept me from making a fool of myself again." 
 
 "You always was too mighty tender-hearted, Miss 
 Kate." 
 
 Then, as Sylvia, discouraged and disheartened 
 now, sat down on the couch again, Carrie whispered 
 to her mistress : "She's nothing to you, Miss Kate ; 
 business is business. Ah guess you'd better let me 
 keep this purse till we go home." 
 
 "I shall be leaving for home in a few minutes," 
 said Kate. 
 
 Carrie, with the purse in her possession, beat a 
 hasty retreat and slammed the door. 
 
 Kate turned to Sylvia again, but the girl's instinct 
 made her realize that she need no longer look for 
 sympathy from her. 
 
 Kate lit a cigarette, then crossed the room and sat
 
 160 THE LURE 
 
 down on the couch beside Sylvia. Her tone now 
 was cold and calculating. She seemed to be weigh- 
 ing Sylvia as in a balance and finding her very light 
 weight. 
 
 "I know how you feel, child," she said quite for- 
 mally. "It's all very sad ; I can realize it, but " 
 
 "Oh, I don't believe you can, Mrs. Lockwood; 
 but if you'll only give me some extra work, that's 
 all I ask. If you'll only keep the promise which 
 you made to me that day at the store." 
 
 "Well, at least, I'll do my best, my dear. Per- 
 haps, after all, I can find some work for you to do. 
 Let me see, now." She paused, seemed to be deep 
 in thought for a moment, and then went on. 
 "There's a firm downtown that wants girls to ad- 
 dress envelopes; they pay 50 cents a thousand. If 
 you could do a thousand a night you could earn 
 $3.50 a week. How about that?" 
 
 Sylvia's face fell. It was all that she could do to 
 keep the tears back. 
 
 "Oh, I'm afraid that wouldn't do, Mrs. Lock- 
 wood," she exclaimed. "It would take too long;
 
 THE LURE 161 
 
 why, you see, even at the best, I couldn't address 
 more than 500 a night. I couldn't wait." 
 
 "Well, then, how would this do," said Kate, still 
 very cool and deliberate: "I have a lawyer client 
 who wants a girl to do typing at night. If you were 
 thoroughly competent I feel sure that he would be 
 willing to pay you five dollars a week." 
 
 Sylvia shrugged her shoulders in a little gesture 
 of despair. 
 
 "Ah, but that's the awkward part of it," she cried. 
 "I can't typewrite. Oh, what shall I do, what shall 
 I do?" she cried. 
 
 Kate turned and surveyed the girl coldly. 
 
 "Well, my dear," she said, with the least trace 
 of sarcasm, "you see, I am trying my best to fulfil 
 my promise, but from what you confess yourself 
 you don't seem able to do anything that will help 
 you much." 
 
 "But I must get the money, just the same," ex- 
 claimed Sylvia, springing to her feet. "Have you 
 anything else to offer me, Mrs. Lockwood; I don't 
 care what it is, and I don't want to keep you here
 
 162 THE LURE 
 
 wasting your time for nothing ; but if you have any- 
 thing, anything, I don't care what, if you think that 
 I can do it, if it is possible in any way, offer it to 
 me. I'll take anything." 
 
 Kate's face broke into smiles. She reached out 
 and took Sylvia's hand. 
 
 "Bully for you, little girl," she exclaimed. "That's 
 talking like a true woman; you say that as if you 
 meant it." 
 
 "I do mean it," said Sylvia fervently. 
 
 Kate's mood changed suddenly. Her smile was 
 gone now. The face she turned to Sylvia was al- 
 most sullen. 
 
 "Maybe you do," she said, in a rather skeptical 
 tone, "and maybe you don't. I am not so sure about 
 that." 
 
 "But I do mean it, Mrs. Lockwood. I surely do," 
 the girl reiterated. 
 
 "I wonder," said Kate, in a ruminating tone. She 
 leaned her chin on her hand and looked away from 
 Sylvia. When she spoke it was as though she were 
 entirely alone in the room. "A hundred dollars/*
 
 "A HUNDRED DOLLARS MEANS, TO ME, MT MOTHER'S LIFE; AND TO GET IT I*LL DO 
 
 ANYTHING, ANYTHING! " P. 163
 
 THE LURE 163 
 
 said Kate. "It's a pitiful sum as the world goes, 
 but it can mean life or death to some people." 
 
 Sylvia's pale cheeks were aflame now. She turned 
 toward Kate vehemently. "Well, that's just what a 
 hundred dollars means to me, my mother's life; and 
 to get it I'll do anything, anything!"
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 "Listen, my dear child," said Kate, turning to- 
 ward Sylvia and assuming a more confidential tone. 
 "About fifteen years ago I was in worse straits even 
 than you are now. I was alone, ill, and I had a little 
 baby. It was up to me to save its life, as it is up to 
 you to save your mother's life." 
 
 "Oh, how terrible!" said Sylvia sympathetically. 
 "What did you do?" 
 
 "I did what I could," replied Kate briefly. "That's 
 all that any of us can do, isn't it?" 
 
 "Yes, but I mean " began Sylvia. 
 
 "I know what you mean, and I know what I am 
 going to tell you. I could only save my baby's life 
 by doing extra work." 
 
 Sylvia clenched her hands and with grim deter- 
 mination in her voice replied: "Very well, Mrs. 
 Lockwood, just give me a chance. I am going to 
 
 save my mother's life that same way." 
 
 164
 
 THE LURE 165 
 
 "That's the way I felt," said Kate reassuringly. 
 "When I couldn't get the work I wanted to do, I did 
 what I could." 
 
 "So will I," said Sylvia. 
 
 "But it's hopeless your way," said Kate. "You'll 
 never earn the money you must have by doing the 
 sort of work you want to do. Why, good heavens, 
 girl, if all that you tell me is the truth, your poor 
 mother will be dead and buried weeks and weeks be- 
 fore you will be able to scrape together that hundred 
 dollars." 
 
 "I am willing to do anything, anything," reiter- 
 ated the girl. 
 
 Kate lighted another cigarette. Her voice took 
 on its cold, bitter tone again. 
 
 "Well, when a woman is up against it as I was 
 and as you are, there's just one way, my dear girl." 
 
 A great light began to break on Sylvia. The girl 
 was gazing steadily at the older woman's face, but 
 Kate Lockwood refused to meet her eyes. 
 
 "I don't understand you, Mrs. Lockwood," said 
 Sylvia sharply. "Please make yourself more clear."
 
 166 THE LURE 
 
 "I am as clear as running water," said Kate 
 sternly. "I am merely stating facts to you." 
 
 "But this way that you speak of, this only way 
 for me to save my mother?" 
 
 "Come, come, my girl," said Kate, with a touch 
 of sarcasm. "After all, you were not born yester- 
 day. You must be eighteen at least, and your ex- 
 periences behind the counter must have taught you 
 a few of the ways of the world." 
 
 Sylvia rose to her feet. She was blushing furi- 
 ously. "Again I ask you, Mrs. Lock wood, what do 
 you mean?" 
 
 Kate rose and faced her. "In plain English I 
 mean this," she said bluntly. "For a girl in your 
 position a girl in as desperate straits as you are, 
 there's always one way out there's one way out; 
 there's always one door open; there's always some 
 man waiting with the money." 
 
 "Oh," cried Sylvia, fully understanding now. She 
 turned to go, but Kate laid a restraining hand upon 
 her arm.
 
 THE LURE 167 
 
 "Listen, I haven't finished yet; you'd better hear 
 me out." 
 
 "But I " 
 
 "The men who buy never get what they can't pay 
 for," continued Kate. "A woman's soul goes only 
 as a gift." 
 
 Sylvia listened, sick with fear and yet fascinated. 
 Presently she said : "Then you want me to " 
 
 "Yes," nodded Kate abruptly, before Sylvia could 
 finish her sentence. 
 
 "I didn't know," cried Sylvia, turning her head 
 away. "I thought you were an honest woman, I 
 thought you were a good woman. I thought you 
 meant everything you promised to do for me. Do 
 you think that I had the least idea of the sort of 
 woman you are when I came here to ask your as- 
 sistance ?" 
 
 Kate gazed at her stonily. "I don't believe you 
 did," she said. 
 
 "Oh, I didn't, I didn't!" cried Sylvia. "Please, 
 please, believe me when I say that. I am sorry 
 very, very sorry that I bothered you."
 
 168 THE LURE 
 
 "That's all right," said Kate, in an offhand way. 
 "Don't let that bother you. I have been insulted 
 before in my own house." 
 
 "But I haven't had the least intention of insulting 
 you, Mrs. Lockwood. Please don't think that," said 
 the girl uneasily. "I simply tell you that I did not 
 know; I never dreamed that you were this sort of 
 woman. Good bye, Mrs. Lockwood. Again I beg 
 your pardon for having bothered you." 
 
 She turned and made a quick dart toward the 
 door. But Kate forestalled her. Before she could 
 reach the door Kate had her back against it and was 
 blowing rings jauntily from her cigarette. 
 
 "Ah, don't be in a hurry, my dear; you haven't 
 hurt my feelings in the least; besides we haven't 
 thrashed this matter out thoroughly yet." 
 
 "Let me pass, please; I must go, go at once," de- 
 manded the girl. 
 
 "Of course, my dear, go any minute you like; 
 this is Liberty Hall, but don't you think you are a 
 little foolish not to let me explain matters more fully 
 to you ? Five minutes ago you listened to me in all
 
 THE LURE 169 
 
 seriousness, and, in spite of what you may think of 
 me now, I am not a bit more dangerous now than I 
 was five minutes ago. Have a little common sense ; 
 don't be afraid; sit down for a moment. Nothing 
 can harm you here. Why this is a public building." 
 
 "I know, Mrs. Lockwood, but I must go just the 
 same. I mustn't stay here another minute." 
 
 "Very well, then," answered Kate, without mov- 
 ing an inch from her position of vantage at the 
 door. 
 
 "I hope, though, you realize that you are doing me 
 a great injustice." 
 
 Kate's whole mood changed suddenly. She spoke 
 in a softer, kindlier tone. "Can't you see that I am 
 awfully sorry for you, my dear child; can't you see 
 that I want to help you, if I possibly can, and if you 
 will only give me time to explain to you I think I 
 can help you." 
 
 "No, you can't help me, Mrs. Lockwood; you 
 can't, not in any such way as that," protested Sylvia. 
 
 "Why, if I had a hundred dollars I'd let you have
 
 170 THE LURE 
 
 it in a moment." Kate uttered the lie without the 
 quiver of an eyelash. 
 
 "Thank you; that's very kind of you, but I 
 couldn't take any money from you, Mrs. Lockwood, 
 not if you had a million dollars in your purse, in- 
 stead of a few hundred." 
 
 "Why couldn't you?" demanded Kate. 
 
 "Simply because I couldn't, that's all." 
 
 "And I took you seriously," cried Kate. "I be- 
 lieved in you; I thought you were telling me the 
 truth; and now I find that you were lying to me, 
 deliberately lying; why, I don't believe there is an 
 honest bone in your body." 
 
 "How dare you speak to me like that?" said 
 Sylvia. "In what way have I lied to you ; what do 
 you mean when you say I haven't spoken the 
 truth?" 
 
 "I mean exactly what I said," retorted Kate. 
 "You must be lying to me. It isn't five minutes ago 
 that you said to me that you would do anything in 
 the world to save your mother's life, and now, when
 
 THE LURE 171 
 
 I give you a chance, when I find a way out for you, 
 you renig." 
 
 "But I didn't understand, Mrs. Lockwood; I had 
 not the remotest idea of what you meant ; I was dis- 
 tracted half out of my mind, but even for mother 
 I couldn't do a thing like that." 
 
 Kate moved away from the door now. She threw 
 away her cigarette and laid her hand sympathetically 
 on Sylvia's arm. 
 
 "My dear child, we all feel that way at first," she 
 said, very kindly. "I know it's only natural; I felt 
 that way myself when that first chance came to me, 
 but there was my baby my little child, not a year 
 old, dying dying." 
 
 Sylvia burst into tears. "Oh, please don't, Mrs. 
 Lockwood, please let me go." 
 
 "Wasn't I right to save her?" Kate went on ruth- 
 lessly, still with the restraining hand on the girl's 
 arm. "Wasn't it right for me to save the life of the 
 dearest thing to me in all the world? What would 
 you or any other woman think of a mother or a 
 daughter, even, who wouldn't sacrifice herself for
 
 172 THE LURE 
 
 the one that she loved best on earth? Why, if I 
 had let my baby die then its death would have been 
 upon my soul forever. I could never have drawn 
 a happy breath." 
 
 "Oh, no, no!" cried the girl, "there's no use dis- 
 cussing this matter any longer." 
 
 "I am only telling you what I did. Of course, if 
 you don't love your mother, as I loved my child, 
 there's no use of my trying to persuade you. But 
 remember this. In this world it isn't what you may 
 do that counts, it's why you do it." 
 
 Kate was speaking like an oracle now. "Neces- 
 sity makes everything right." 
 
 "No, no, it does not," cried Sylvia. "I don't be- 
 lieve that; it isn't true." 
 
 "And, after all," pursued Kate, "who is to know 
 about it; this would be the one great sacrifice of 
 your life; with your mother safe and well again you 
 would thank your God, day by day, that you had 
 made a martyr of yourself as I did. Within a very 
 few days all the money that you must have, all the 
 money that you needed, would be at hand ; then you
 
 THE LURE 173 
 
 could slip quietly back home again, back to your old 
 life of drudgery in the shop, if you wanted to, and 
 no one would be the wiser." 
 
 "Don't, don't!" cried the girl. "You mustn't 
 tempt me like that; it's too awful." 
 
 "Too awful," echoed Kate, in a pained tone; 
 "too awful, because I show you a way to save your 
 mother's life; too awful because I show you how to 
 make a sacrifice for her; why I thought you said 
 you loved her. Why, a month from now, she would 
 be well again, and you would be happy in having 
 saved her; then you could forget it all; the whole 
 affair would be a closed book to you." 
 
 "Oh, no, it wouldn't ; I could never forget it." 
 "Let me ask you something," said Kate, changing 
 her tone again and growing stern. "Don't you think 
 it would be easier for you to forget that than to 
 forget that on account of your own selfishness you 
 had allowed your mother to die?" 
 
 "Stop, stop, you are driving me crazy!" 
 "Oh, very well," exclaimed Kate, with a sigh of 
 resignation. "I shall not try to urge you any more.
 
 174 THE LURE 
 
 Your poor mother will have to die, that's all. Hasn't 
 it occurred to you yet if you refuse this offer what a 
 hell on earth your life is going to be to you after 
 your poor mother's dead and gone? Your regrets 
 won't do you any good then. It will be too late. 
 Can't you see I am only trying to help you while it is 
 still time ; I know what I am talking about ; haven't 
 I been through the mill? I've never regretted what 
 I did." 
 
 The girl turned to her eagerly. "Honest, did you 
 never regret it ?" 
 
 Sylvia was peering now straight into Kate's eyes. 
 
 "Never, never for a moment," answered Kate un- 
 flinchingly, and for once she spoke the truth. 
 
 "But your baby?" queried Sylvia. 
 
 Kate sat down on the lounge before replying. 
 "She is in a convent now." 
 
 "How old is she?" 
 
 "Nearly sixteen." 
 
 "Does she know what you did for her?" 
 
 "Not yet, but when she is old enough to under- 
 stand I shall tell her."
 
 THE LURE 175 
 
 "Do you think she will thank you then for having 
 saved her life?" 
 
 "Yes," said Kate stoutly. "And if she is worthy 
 of being my daughter, under the same circumstances, 
 if it were necessary, she would do the same for me. 
 Any daughter would who is worth her salt." 
 
 "But think of the price," said Sylvia waveringly; 
 "think of that awful price." 
 
 Her long fast she had eaten nothing since her 
 luncheon at the shop; her worries, her fear for her 
 mother's life; the relentless arguments which this 
 woman was presenting to her began to tell upon 
 Sylvia. She sank down on the couch and began 
 weighing the matter in her mind. The instant she 
 touched the couch Kate rose. In her own heart she 
 knew now she was mistress of the situation. 
 
 "Price," she repeated sneeringly; "price, that's a 
 nice thing for you to consider when your mother 
 must have that nourishing food and medicine, and 
 the country and fresh air and life ; and you stop to 
 think of 'price'; pull yourself together, my dear;
 
 176 THE LURE 
 
 don't think of yourself; think only of your mother; 
 blood is thicker than morals." 
 
 Unnoticed by Sylvia the door opened and Carrie 
 tiptoed into the room. Kate beckoned to her. 
 
 Sylvia, who was almost fainting now, scarcely 
 seemed to hear what they were saying. 
 
 "Carrie," said Kate, "this is a little friend of 
 mine, Miss Gladys Gordon, I want you to take very 
 good care of her. She is going downtown in the 
 taxi with me in fifteen minutes. I want you to take 
 her into Number two and help her change her dress ; 
 give her one of the prettiest of those new gowns 
 that arrived this evening." 
 
 Carrie slipped her arm around Sylvia ; Kate sup- 
 ported her from the other side. Together they led 
 the half fainting girl toward the door. 
 
 "Now, don't worry, my dear child, just be brave, 
 that's all. Everything will be all right," Kate con- 
 tinued cheerily. "Think of your mother and the 
 money you will have. Go along, go along, that's a 
 good girl; that's right," and Kate closed the door 
 behind them.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 For several moments Kate stood by the closed 
 door of Number two, listening apprehensively to 
 hear if Sylvia made any further protests. While 
 she was still standing there the office door opened 
 and Paul and Jim Wilson burst into the room. 
 
 "Who is in Number two?" asked Paul, quick to 
 notice Kate's listening attitude. 
 
 "No one to worry about," Kate turned to him 
 calmly. "She's just a new girl." 
 
 "The one that was sitting in the outer office?" 
 asked Paul eagerly. "By G , she's a queen. I 
 caught a glimpse of her when I went out. She is a 
 peach. Did she come here voluntarily?" demanded 
 Wilson. 
 
 "Why, of course," said Kate, "what do you take 
 me for, you don't suppose I am looking for any 
 extra trouble at a time like this ?" 
 
 "Kate, you are a wonder," exclaimed Paul, with 
 177
 
 178 THE LURE 
 
 admiration in his tone. "They fall for you almost 
 as easy as they fall for me." 
 
 Then, turning to Wilson, he added: "I've only 
 got six this month, and this makes the fourth for 
 her." 
 
 "Well, as long as she came voluntarily it's her 
 own business and not ours," said Wilson. 
 
 "She was hard up, poor little devil," explained 
 Kate. "Her mother is dying; she needed medicine 
 and things." 
 
 "Well, that's all right ; that's a whole lot better 
 than Paul's way of getting them," said Wilson. 
 
 "Ah," retorted Paul, "there's always class to 
 mine." 
 
 "Class be damned," said Wilson. "Dress up a 
 good-looking shop girl in silk, fix her hair up and 
 you can't tell her from a millionaire's daughter." 
 
 "Oh, yes, you can," retorted Paul. 
 
 "Well, Kate, all I ask of you is, once you get 
 downtown, for God's sake, keep an eye on her. 
 These suicide girls don't pay any dividends."
 
 THE LURE 179 
 
 "We'll make her Number eight, in place of the 
 little Springfield kid," said Paul. 
 
 Kate walked to her desk and sat down. She 
 looked tired and haggard. "She's a pretty girl," 
 mused Kate. "I was sorry for her. If it had not 
 been for that damn Carrie butting in I believe I 
 would have sent her back home." 
 
 "Oh, you would, eh?" said Wilson surlily; 
 "why?" 
 
 "Oh, I don't know," said Kate, a little regretfully. 
 "I was sorry for her, poor thing, and then she 
 brought back a picture to me." 
 
 "A picture of yourself, I suppose, in your salad 
 days," sneered Wilson. 
 
 "Ah, sympathy stuff, eh?" laughed Paul sarcasti- 
 cally. 
 
 "Well, suppose it is sympathy stuff?" exclaimed 
 Kate to Paul, ignoring Wilson's sneer. "After all, 
 we are the women who need it the most." 
 
 "Yes," retorted Paul, "and you are the women 
 who get the least of it." 
 
 "That's because there are so many women in this
 
 180 THE LURE 
 
 game, my dear Kate," remarked Wilson, with an- 
 other sneer, "that there isn't enough sympathy to go 
 round." 
 
 "Oh, no, it's not," Kate flashed back at him. "It's 
 because it's only in our society that men dare to 
 show themselves the beasts which they really are." 
 
 Paul burst out laughing. "I'll tell you what, Jim, 
 let's all reform and start a rescue home for men." 
 
 "They need it, God knows," said Kate bitterly, 
 "and when you start this reform business reserve a 
 special ward for the religious old landlords who 
 grow rich charging us double rent for their houses." 
 
 It was Wilson's turn to laugh now. "Oh, they 
 are long past reformation," he remarked. 
 
 There was a ring at the outer door-bell. All 
 three started to their feet. "You go, Paul, see who 
 it is." 
 
 Paul hurried out. Wilson and Kate, listening 
 apprehensively, heard the sound of voices at the 
 door. Then came the sound of footsteps coming 
 down the corridor. With Paul as he reentered the 
 room was another man, Bob MacAuley.
 
 THE LURE 181 
 
 "Who are you? What do you want here?" said 
 Kate, stepping quickly forward. "This office is 
 closed for the night." 
 
 "I am sorry to disturb you, madam," said Mac- 
 Auley coolly, "but I have got to come in all the 
 same; I am the inspector from the gas company." 
 
 "What's the matter, what do you want?" asked 
 Kate impatiently. 
 
 "The superintendent of the building reported a 
 strong smell of gas, I have got to investigate," re- 
 turned Bob. 
 
 At this moment Wilson stepped forward. "Wait 
 a minute," he exclaimed importantly; "you're from 
 the gas company, eh?" 
 
 "That's what I said," remarked Bob. 
 
 "If you are from the gas company you have got 
 a badge, I suppose ; let me see it." 
 
 Bob smiled in a good-natured way and produced 
 a metal pass. He also took a pair of gas pliers from 
 his hip pocket. Then, throwing his coat open, he 
 exclaimed : "Here is another one. Here is my
 
 182 THE LURE 
 
 union card sewed to the lining of my vest, if you 
 want to see that." 
 
 "It's all right, Miss Kate ; let him go ahead," said 
 Wilson; and, then turning to Paul, he added : "See- 
 ing is believing, you know; you mustn't mind my 
 questioning you. That gas man gag is an old 
 dodge of the burglars, you know." 
 
 "Well, to tell you the truth, I don't suppose there 
 is so much difference between a burglar and a gas 
 man," laughed Bob casually. 
 
 Wilson turned on him with a sneer. "You're a 
 smart guy, ain't you for a gas man." 
 
 "Oh, just smart enough to stop an occasional gas 
 leak. There's a bad one around your place some- 
 where." 
 
 "Yes, I know there is," said Kate, trying to 
 smooth over the situation. "I noticed several times 
 this afternoon there was a strong smell of gas." 
 
 "Did you find it?" asked Bob. 
 
 As he turned to ask her this question he recog- 
 nized Kate Lockwood for the first time. Here was
 
 THE LURE 183 
 
 the woman who had given that card to Sylvia that 
 day at the silk stocking counter. 
 
 "No," said Kate, "I don't think it can be on this 
 floor; the leak must be upstairs somewhere." 
 
 "Well, I'll have to look this floor over first myself. 
 You see I have got to make a report on it." 
 
 "Why so?" said Kate, a little startled. 
 
 "Don't bother about it; leave it until the morn- 
 ing; we'll look after it. Perhaps we'll find it for 
 ourselves in the meantime," said Wilson. 
 
 "And you are " said Bob, turning to Wilson 
 
 questioningly. 
 
 Wilson changed his tone. He became a little 
 more confidential. "I am the leader of this district ; 
 I am here on a little burglary case helping the po- 
 lice." 
 
 Then, turning to Kate, he remarked : "I shouldn't 
 be at all surprised, Miss Kate, if the burglar didn't 
 leave the gas jet open himself." 
 
 "I expect he did," said Kate. 
 
 "In place of a visiting card," said Bob jocosely.
 
 184 THE LURE 
 
 All three of them laughed in rather a nervous 
 sort of way. 
 
 "Of course, if you are not satisfied, look the build- 
 ing over yourself," said Wilson, still more genially. 
 
 "Well, as a matter of fact, I did intend this to be 
 my last job to-night," said Bob, turning toward the 
 door of Number two, as though about to go out that 
 way; "but if you think it's O. K. about the leak and 
 that I can fix it as well in the morning, I'll " 
 
 "Oh, no, no," said Wilson, interrupting him. 
 "You'd better look it over." 
 
 While Wilson was speaking Paul darted forward 
 and got between Wilson and the door of Number 
 two. Wilson pulled a cigarette case from his pocket 
 and, opening it, held it toward Bob. 
 
 "Thanks, don't care if I do," said MacAuley, still 
 holding his ground. 
 
 Kate meanwhile had gone to a door which led 
 toward the area entrance. Opening it hurriedly, she 
 said : "This way, this way, the smell of the gas is 
 from somewhere over here." 
 
 "Can I get out that way without disturbing you
 
 THE LURE 185 
 
 again? Oh, very well," said Bob, "hope you get 
 your burglar, gentlemen." 
 
 "Of course we'll catch him," said Kate, as she 
 smilingly showed Bob out. 
 
 "Who is that man, do either of you know him?" 
 exclaimed Kate the moment the door shut behind 
 MacAuley. 
 
 "No," said Wilson, "and I thought I knew all the 
 gas men around here." 
 
 "I've never seen him before, either," said Kate. 
 "He is too bright for a gas man. There's some- 
 thing about him I don't like." 
 
 "Well, his badge is O. K., anyway," remarked 
 Wilson. "Still you might keep an eye on him, 
 Paul." 
 
 "Oh, pshaw, he is all right," said Paul. "Kate is 
 so nervous she would shy at a shadow to-night." 
 
 "Shut up, Paul; come down to business," Kate 
 exclaimed, going back to her desk. "Tell me now, 
 what have you done about the body?" 
 
 "Oh, that will be all right," said Wilson confi- 
 dently. "I'll get the burial permit issued to-night
 
 186 THE LURE 
 
 and I'll send it downtown to you. When you get it 
 phone to Riley the undertaker. He'll take her down 
 the back stairs. That'll be the end of it." 
 
 "That's good," said Kate, with a great sigh of 
 relief. 
 
 "Hold on, wait a minute," interrupted Paul. 
 "After that, what then?" 
 
 "Why, he'll keep her in his undertaking room for 
 several days till the whole matter has blown over." 
 
 "For some detective to identify; not on your 
 life," cried Paul authoritatively. "You tell Riley 
 to send her right out to the Potter's field." 
 
 "That'll be pretty tough on her folks, don't you 
 think?" said Wilson. 
 
 "It's too late to worry about her folks," said 
 Kate. "Anyway, they'd rather not know the truth." 
 
 "Well, perhaps you are right, Kate," said Wilson, 
 picking up his hat. 
 
 As he rose to go Paul walked to the door. "I 
 guess I'd better go and look at Nell in Number 
 three ; she'll be coming to in a few minutes, and if
 
 THE LURE 187 
 
 she should make any row with that gas man in the 
 house it would raise the devil with all of us." 
 
 Wilson dropped his hat on the table again as Paul 
 left the room. 
 
 "What's that; another one?" he cried. "Why 
 didn't you tell me about this before? I didn't know 
 you had another girl here. That little rat of a hus- 
 band of yours will raise hell with all of us yet." 
 
 "Why, he's all right," answered Kate. "This is 
 a girl that he only got a hold of this morning. He 
 had her in the downtown place, and then when this 
 suicide happened, he thought it was safer to bring 
 her up here for the night. You can't blame him for 
 that." 
 
 "My God, woman," cried Wilson furiously. 
 "When am I going to be able to beat in your head 
 that we are all standing over a lot of dynamite?" 
 
 "How, what's happened now, anything new?" 
 cried Kate, her face growing white again. 
 
 "Don't you know the government detectives are 
 in the city, trying to trace that Springfield girl ? Why
 
 188 THE LURE 
 
 in the name of God didn't you have better sense than 
 to let Paul bring a woman across the State line?" 
 
 "It wasn't my fault ; how am I to blame ? I knew 
 nothing about the Springfield girl until he got her 
 here." 
 
 "Yes, it is your fault, you ought to know these 
 things; it's your business to know them." 
 
 "But I didn't know until two days after he got 
 her here where she came from." 
 
 Wilson was furious with rage. Walking close 
 up to her, he shook his fist in Kate's face. "What 
 do you think I put you in charge of that house for? 
 To go to sleep on the job and let that fool put 
 stripes on us all ?" 
 
 Kate turned and tried to edge away from the 
 furious man. "I have done the best I could, Jim," 
 she cried pleadingly. "The best for all of us; for 
 you especially." 
 
 "No, you haven't," he snarled, grabbing her by 
 the arm. "You make one more break like this and 
 I'll take the house away from you, and throw you 
 back into the streets where you came from."
 
 THE LURE 189 
 
 Wincing from pain and furious with anger, Kate 
 wrenched herself free. 
 
 "Yes," she cried, as though daring him to do his 
 worst, "and where you put me fifteen years ago, 
 when I was the new girl and you were the 'Paul.' ' 
 
 "Now, let me tell you something once for all, 
 Kate," Wilson continued. "I don't care how many 
 girls you and Paul and the others get here in town 
 or in any part of the state; nor do I care how you 
 get them, but don't you ever bring another woman 
 across the state line. You know the limits of my 
 pull. You know I haven't got any influence to stop 
 a government prosecution, and if hell breaks loose 
 over this Springfield job you and Paul are the ones 
 that are going to take a trip to the Federal peni- 
 tentiary. Now you'll get that, and remember it." 
 
 "Jim," she cried, horror stricken, "do you mean 
 to say that after all these years you'd sacrifice me ?" 
 
 "That's just what I do mean, damn you ; what else 
 do you suppose I mean? I'd sacrifice you in a 
 minute."
 
 190 THE LURE 
 
 Kate turned on him like a tigress. All fear of him 
 had vanished now. "Oh, you would, eh?" 
 
 "Yes, I would," growled Wilson. 
 
 A great calm seemed to come over Kate all of a 
 sudden. She folded her arms and walked deliber- 
 ately up to him. 
 
 "Well, now, you listen to me, Jim Wilson ; listen 
 with all your ears, because I am going to tell you 
 something something you want to remember for 
 the rest of your life. All this talk of yours, of send- 
 ing me back to the streets and letting me go to jail 
 don't make a hit with me. I am not going to turn 
 you up to the law, and I am not going to turn you 
 up to your wife and break her heart, and you're not 
 going to turn me out, either. Don't you forget that 
 for one moment. You've always split the profits 
 when things were easy, and whenever the music 
 starts for any of us you are going to join the dance. 
 It will be on the house, and remember you're a half 
 owner." 
 
 The deadly menace in her tone had its effect on 
 Wilson. He turned toward her, scowling still, but
 
 THE LURE 191 
 
 not nearly so viciously as before the woman had 
 made her threat. 
 
 "Well, you heard what I said," he continued sur- 
 lily. "You'd better put it in your pipe and smoke 
 it." 
 
 "Yes, and I advise you not to forget what I said, 
 Jim Wilson. I am warning you for your own good. 
 All the political pulls you have in the world won't 
 do you a bit of good when you get a desperate 
 woman like me on your trail." 
 
 Ignoring this lasl threat of Kate's completely, 
 Wilson turned toward the door. On the threshold 
 he paused for a moment. "There's just one thing 
 more," he said. "You tell that fool Paul to get 
 both of those girls out of here right away; have 
 them taken downtown anywhere he pleases, but out 
 of here they have got to get; and if anything un- 
 usual happens to-night, either here or downtown, 
 you get me on the phone at once, do you hear?" 
 
 "Where?" asked Kate, in a significant tone. 
 
 "At home," growled Wilson. "My wife has got
 
 192 THE LURE 
 
 a dinner party on. I promised to be home at eight 
 o'clock." 
 
 "Huh," laughed Kate sneeringly. 
 
 "Remember, now, I have put you on your guard, 
 now play close. And remember, if anything does 
 happen, it's up to you. It's you and Paul that will 
 have to take the consequences; and it will be back 
 to the streets for yours."
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 Two minutes later when Paul returned to the 
 private office, he saw instantly by Kate's face that 
 she and Wilson had been having a row. 
 
 "What's wrong?" he asked. "What's that big 
 stiff been saying to you now ?" 
 
 "Oh, nothing new," she answered. "Just the 
 same old guff which he always hands me when he 
 gets into a rage. He did say one new thing. I was 
 forgetting that." 
 
 "What was that?" asked Paul. 
 
 "He says we have got to take both of these girls 
 out of this house to-night, quick." 
 
 "Ah, let him attend to the dead one downtown, 
 I'll look after these two all right. As long as they 
 keep their mouths shut we have got nothing to fear 
 from them." 
 
 "But he is right, Paul," continued Kate. "It's an 
 
 awful risk we are running in having girls here at a 
 193
 
 194 THE LURE 
 
 time like this. Suppose the police should come here 
 this very minute, now what would we do. They 
 would have us red-handed, wouldn't they?" 
 
 "Well, if that's the way you feel about it," re- 
 torted Paul, "why have you been wasting time this 
 night trapping this new girl, eh ? You can't put that 
 up to me, you know. That's your own little private 
 enterprise, and now that you have trapped her, now 
 that you have got her here and persuaded her to go 
 with you, what are you going to do about it, eh?" 
 
 "I will tell you one thing I am going to do about 
 her," replied Kate, very seriously. "I am going to 
 keep her away from you. I don't want you to 
 frighten her; you understand? Don't you dare to 
 lay a finger on her." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Just because I say so, that's why not," said Kate. 
 "You leave her alone, I tell you ; wait till we get her 
 downtown before any one starts anything with her. 
 She still thinks that she is going back home to- 
 night. She doesn't realize yet that she is our pris- 
 oner, and one word from you "
 
 THE LURE 195 
 
 "Ah, Kate, that's where you make your great mis- 
 take," retorted Paul. "Take a tip from one who 
 knows women better than you do. Read them the 
 riot act at the beginning and you won't have any 
 more trouble with them." 
 
 "There is no use trying to drive a woman when 
 she is leading," said Kate. 
 
 "None of your finesse for me," retorted Paul. 
 
 "Finesse is better than force any day," said Kate. 
 
 "Not for mine," sneered Paul. "I never seen it 
 to fail yet. When a man treats a woman decent she 
 will throw him every time." 
 
 The door opened suddenly, and in came the mes- 
 senger boy again. He was carrying another milli- 
 ner's box. His entrance startled Kate. She sprang 
 to her feet apprehensively. Paul jumped, too, but 
 at sight of the boy he pulled himself together and 
 exclaimed : 
 
 "What the devil do you want here ?" 
 
 "It's the other box," said the boy blandly. 
 
 "Didn't my maid tell you not to bring it till to-
 
 196 THE LURE 
 
 morrow ? What do you mean coming back here this 
 time of the night?" 
 
 "But my boss told me to bring it, see !" said the 
 boy. 
 
 He produced the receipt book from his pocket and 
 handed it to Kate to sign. 
 
 "You sign for it, Paul," said Kate, waving the 
 boy toward her husband. 
 
 "But I got to have a personal receipt." 
 
 Paul snatched the book from him and signed the 
 receipt. 
 
 "Huh, who's the boss here, anyway? I " 
 
 The messenger boy's jaw dropped suddenly. His 
 eyes grew big with amazement. He was gazing 
 past Paul now at the door of Number two. The 
 door had opened. There on the threshold stood 
 Carrie half supporting Sylvia who was now dressed 
 in a ball gown. 
 
 "She's all ready, Miss Kate; don't she look 
 pretty?" exclaimed Carrie, and then suddenly her 
 mouth shut up like a trap. She stood transfixed. 
 Her eye had fallen on the messenger boy.
 
 THE LURE 197 
 
 Paul, quick to realize the danger of the situation, 
 forced the receipt book into the messenger's hands, 
 took the lad by the shoulders and hustled him out 
 of the room. 
 
 "Come on, get out now. We're in a hurry, you 
 see. I got to take that little niece of mine uptown 
 to a party. Here's two dollars for all your trouble," 
 and Paul thrust two one dollar bills into the young- 
 ster's hands. 
 
 "Why, it fits like a glove," Kate was exclaiming, 
 as Paul reentered the room. 
 
 "Oh, I don't want to wear it," cried the girl. 
 "Let me take it off, please." 
 
 "They'll all be jealous of you when they see you. 
 Don't try to cover those pretty shoulders." 
 
 "Say, kid, you're all right," exclaimed Paul leer- 
 ingly, taking several steps toward Sylvia. 
 
 "Oh," Sylvia gave a gasp of terror and recoiled 
 from him. 
 
 "Now, Paul, what did I tell you?" cried Kate 
 warningly. "You get out of here; you leave us 
 alone ; this is no place for you."
 
 198 THE LURE 
 
 "Oh, very well, then ; don't let's get fussy. We'll 
 meet again downtown," he added meaningly, as he 
 left the room. 
 
 "Don't pay any attention to him; he's only one 
 of my employees. Box his ears, my dear, if he 
 ever offers you any impertinence." 
 
 "Oh, but I am so ashamed, so ashamed," wailed 
 Sylvia. 
 
 "Ah, it's all right, it's all right," urged Kate. 
 
 "Carrie, get me my smelling-salts, the poor child 
 looks faint, and my rouge box, too; her cheeks are 
 as pale as chalk; to set off that lovely gown, she 
 must have just the least little bit of color." 
 
 "I can't go with you, I can't," cried Sylvia, so 
 faint by this time that she could scarcely stand. 
 "It's impossible; it's too awful, I " 
 
 "Ah, brace up, child, brace up," cried Kate. 
 "Think of your mother and what it means for her." 
 
 "I can't, I tell you." 
 
 "Brace up, I tell you," repeated Kate, command- 
 ing now. "Why, you look like a lost soul. A face
 
 THE LURE 199 
 
 like that won't do you any good. Men only care 
 for women who smile." 
 
 With a little groan Sylvia lurched forward and 
 fell unconscious into Kate's arms. 
 
 Kate promptly dropped her on the leather couch 
 and let her lie there face downward just as she fell. 
 "She's fainted, Carrie," cried Kate, as the colored 
 girl returned with the smelling-salts; "but that 
 doesn't matter. It will give me a chance to dress, 
 and perhaps she'll be more reasonable when she 
 comes to." 
 
 "Here's her purse, Miss Carrie; I thought you 
 might want to look at it." 
 
 Kate snatched the purse and, opening it, pulled 
 out a nickel. "Poor little devil," she said, as she 
 looked at it. "She wasn't lying after all." 
 
 Then, looking into the purse again, and drawing 
 out a card, she exclaimed: "Here's what I want; 
 here is her address, 'Sylvia Jones, sixty-four Brook 
 Street' ; keep that card, Carrie ; have you ordered the 
 taxi?"
 
 200 THE LURE 
 
 "Yes'm, I got Dan. He is waiting at the side 
 door." 
 
 "Very well, then; she's good for ten minutes at 
 least. You stay here and watch her while I get 
 dressed." 
 
 Left alone with the unconscious girl, Carrie stood 
 looking at her contemptuously for a moment. Then 
 as soon as she thought her mistress was well out of 
 the way, she crossed to the desk, opened the drawer 
 and took out Kate's purse. 
 
 "So, she was goin' to give you a hundred dol- 
 lars, eh?" remarked Carrie to the unconscious Syl- 
 via. "A hundred dollars; after to-night I guess I 
 can use that money myself. Ah'm dead sick of this 
 whole business, anyhow. Things is gettin' a bit too 
 warm round here, and I ain't bought no summer 
 clothes yet; Ah guess this is where little Carrie 
 makes a final haul and lights out." 
 
 So saying, she transferred Kate's entire roll of 
 bills from the purse to her stocking. 
 
 While this interesting transaction was going on 
 the side door which led to the areaway opened
 
 THE LURE 201 
 
 softly and Bob MacAuley and the messenger boy 
 tiptoed into the room. 
 
 From where they stood it was impossible for 
 them to see Sylvia as she lay unconscious on the 
 high-backed couch. 
 
 "Is this the room?" whispered Bob. 
 
 The messenger boy nodded his head. 
 
 "Don't see any girl in here," Bob went on. 
 
 "No, sir, but that's the coon that brought her in," 
 whispered the boy, as he pointed to Carrie. 
 
 Bob shoved the boy gently out of the room again. 
 
 "Go downstairs to the door again," he said 
 quietly, "tell the two men I left at the foot of the 
 stairs to run up here as soon as I call." 
 
 Then he closed the door behind him and stepped 
 into the room. 
 
 Carrie jumped and leaped to her feet. 
 
 "Oh, mah God, how you did startle me," she ex- 
 claimed, as she turned and faced Bob. 
 
 "Leave her the purse," said Bob significantly. 
 "She may need it." 
 
 "But Ah ain't doin' nothing, sir," expostulated
 
 202 THE LURE 
 
 Carrie, quivering with fright. "Ah was just puttin' 
 Mrs. Lockwood's things away for the night." 
 
 "Say," exclaimed Bob warningly, "keep that sort 
 of a story up and you'll be doing time again in about 
 ten minutes." 
 
 That "again" had the desired effect on Carrie. 
 
 "Last time, you know, you were up for larceny 
 alone; this time you'll go up for larceny and kid- 
 napping." 
 
 "Oh, mah God, Ah don't know what you mean, 
 sir; you ain't never laid eyes on me before in your 
 life. Why, Ah've only been in this part of the coun- 
 try a week and a half." 
 
 "But you have been very busy while you have 
 been here, haven't you? and you know where that 
 little girl from Springfield is, don't you? You 
 brought her into this room only a few minutes ago 
 yourself, didn't you?" 
 
 Carrie started to defend herself, but before she 
 could speak, MacAuley turned. He saw the girl 
 lying on the sofa. 
 
 "Ah, wait," he exclaimed.
 
 THE LURE 203 
 
 He crossed to the couch quickly and touched the 
 girl gently with one hand. 
 
 "Charlotte Baker," he exclaimed softly, as though 
 speaking to a sleeping child he was afraid to awaken 
 too suddenly. "It's all right, Miss Baker ; don't be 
 afraid, I have come to save " 
 
 MacAuley stopped abruptly and wheeled around. 
 "Come back here, come back here, you black devil," 
 he cried to Carrie, who, while he had been speaking, 
 was edging her way toward the door. Drawing a 
 pistol from his pocket, he grabbed her roughly by 
 the arm and backed her up against the closed door 
 of Number two. 
 
 "Now make one movement and I'll put a bullet 
 through you; understand me?" 
 
 MacAuley laid the pistol on the table well out of 
 Carrie's reach. Then he walked to the leather couch 
 and, stooping down, lifted the unconscious girl in 
 his arms. As he did so Sylvia began to recover 
 consciousness. She raised her head, and recogniz- 
 ing him she gave a poignant little cry. 
 
 "Oh, my God," cried MacAuley, in horror, "it's 
 you, you, you !"
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 "What are you doing here, tell me, tell me?" cried 
 Bob. 
 
 The moment he had dropped her from his arms 
 Sylvia buried her face in the couch again. 
 
 "Oh, I don't know," cried Sylvia, beating her 
 clenched hands on the couch. 
 
 "You don't know?" echoed Bob, the cold sweat 
 standing on his forehead. 
 
 "Let me go away, take me out of this." 
 
 "You expect me to believe you don't know, you, 
 you in the office of an infamous woman who hires 
 girls for one purpose only." 
 
 "Don't, don't ; please, take me away ; I can explain 
 once we are out of here." 
 
 Carrie, who had been watching her chance, again 
 
 began to creep catlike toward the office door. 
 
 204
 
 THE LURE 205 
 
 With one leap MacAuley had her by the throat. 
 "Wait," he exclaimed sternly. 
 
 Then, as he released his hold on her, he ex- 
 claimed sarcastically: "God, are all you women 
 alike ? how much salary do you get ?" 
 
 "Fifteen dollars a week, sir," gasped Carrie, in- 
 finitely relieved that MacAuley's big hands no longer 
 had a grip upon her throat. 
 
 "Not enough to buy pretty clothes with, eh ? have 
 to take to stealing for a side line." 
 
 "No, sir," protested Carrie. "Ah ain't never stole 
 nothin' in my life. Dat money which you saw me 
 abstract from the purse just now was to pay the 
 rent. Ah was just goin' to take it up to the land- 
 lord." 
 
 "Oh, I don't know but what I prefer your way of 
 getting extra money," exclaimed Bob, glancing with 
 a world of contempt in his eyes at the prostrate girl 
 upon the couch. "It may not be honest, but at least 
 it's more or less respectable." 
 
 "Don't you agree with me?" he went on, fiercely
 
 206 THE LURE 
 
 turning to Sylvia. "Perhaps you are prejudiced, 
 however, you, oh, God !" 
 
 He thrust his hand into his waistcoat pocket and 
 drew out three coins. 
 
 "Here are two dimes and a nickel," he cried. "I 
 put them away carefully to-night. I thought I 
 wanted them as keepsakes; but I have decided I 
 don't." 
 
 Again he turned to Carrie. "Here, you," he 
 cried, holding the coins toward her in his hand. 
 "Go buy yourself a bottle of beer. Wait, though." 
 
 He turned to Sylvia again with a bitter sneer. 
 "Perhaps you had better take them, after all. They 
 belonged to you. You can get them changed into 
 another quarter for the gas meter." 
 
 Sylvia, still with her face hidden, gave a piteous 
 moan. MacAuley laughed harshly. 
 
 Carrie made another leap toward the door. Again 
 MacAuley grabbed her. Placing his hand over her 
 mouth, he dragged her to the door which led to the 
 area entrance. 
 
 Jackson and Firman, who were awaiting his call,
 
 THE LURE 207 
 
 came forward hurriedly. They seized the woman 
 and hustled her down the stairs. 
 
 "Keep her quiet down there," said MacAuley. "I 
 may want her again before we get through with 
 this. Gag her if she makes the slightest sound." 
 
 Without an instant's pause MacAuley entered the 
 office again, closing the door behind him. 
 
 Sylvia was still lying sobbing despairingly upon 
 the couch. 
 
 MacAuley walked toward her and gazed down 
 upon her as though even now he could scarcely be- 
 lieve his eyes. He thrust his hand into his trousers 
 pocket and produced a roll of bills. 
 
 "While we are on the subject of finances," he 
 said, throwing the roll of bills on the couch beside 
 her, "is that your price ?" he asked. 
 
 For the first time Sylvia raised her face to his. 
 
 "Why are you torturing me this way?" she cried, 
 moaning. 
 
 "Am I torturing you?" he said sneeringly. 
 
 The girl looked him squarely in the eyes, and as 
 she did so MacAuley, to his amazement, found that
 
 208 THE LURE 
 
 there was no trace of shame or guilt to be found in 
 her face. 
 
 "Yes, you know you are; you've nearly killed 
 me." 
 
 "Good!" cried Bob grimly. "That's what I am 
 trying to do. It would be a good deal better for 
 your own sake, and for your people, if you were 
 dead." 
 
 "Why, why?" wailed Sylvia. "How dare you 
 say such a thing as that ? What have I ever done to 
 you?" 
 
 "You have made a fool out of me, that's all." 
 
 "I never harmed you in my life," said Sylvia, 
 looking at him again unflinchingly. 
 
 "You've made me lose what little faith I ever had 
 in woman." 
 
 "I don't know what you are talking about. I 
 don't know what you mean," cried the girl. 
 
 MacAuley's face was white with rage now. 
 
 "Yes, you do know what I mean," he exclaimed 
 brutally, "and you know me, too. When I came 
 into this room you crouched down on that chair and
 
 THE LURE 209 
 
 covered your face so that I shouldn't know you; 
 you didn't want me to recognize you." 
 
 "Oh, I hoped and prayed you wouldn't," replied 
 Sylvia. 
 
 "Yes, but I did, though." 
 
 "Yes, but at least you might have had the de- 
 cency " 
 
 MacAuley threw back his head and laughed in a 
 brutal way. "Decency, eh !" he exclaimed. "What 
 does a girl like you know about decency ? Look me in 
 the face and blush. I dare you to. A blush is the 
 only thing a woman can't counterfeit. I want to 
 see you try to blush ; come on, now," he concluded 
 tauntingly; "you can't you can't." 
 
 Sylvia rose from the couch fearlessly and faced 
 him. 
 
 "I can," she said, again looking him full in the 
 eyes. 
 
 Trembling with rage, it was all that MacAuley 
 could do to keep his hands off her. 
 
 "You can't; you have sold your right to blush; 
 why don't I strangle you right now ?"
 
 210 THE LURE 
 
 "I wish you would rather than torture me like 
 this." 
 
 "So I am torturing you, am I ?" MacAuley went 
 on ruthlessly; "and you want to know why; well, 
 it's too late now to make any difference; but just 
 for luck I am going to tell you. Do you know what 
 I was going back to your other home to say to you 
 to-morrow morning? Listen! When I stood out- 
 side that window on your fire-escape to-night and 
 saw you with the light of that lamp gleaming on 
 your face and your pretty hair, I could have shouted 
 with joy when I realized that I had found you 
 again, as I always knew I should ! It was you, you ; 
 the girl whose image I carried in my heart for so 
 many months. The girl I put a sacred halo about ; 
 the girl I put into a shrine and worshiped like the 
 poor damn fool that I am; and when I left you to- 
 night it was with the one purpose of coming back 
 in the morning, back to that goodness, that courage, 
 that virtue which I thought were yours and to ask 
 you to be my wife ; to tell you how I loved you, but, 
 oh, hell! what's the use of talking about it?
 
 THE LURE 211 
 
 "Now I find I fell for something that had already 
 fallen." 
 
 "That's a lie," said the girl, "you know it is." 
 
 "I know nothing of the sort," he retorted furi- 
 ously. "Facts speak for themselves, don't they? 
 Well, here are the facts. Two hours later I stumble 
 across you by accident in this half-way house to 
 hell, decked out for a night's debauch, and ready 
 to give the first man who comes along with the price 
 the very thing I could have sworn you would go to 
 the stake to keep." 
 
 "And I was going to the stake," cried the girl 
 piteously. "I was going to worse than 'the stake,' 
 and I knew it." 
 
 MacAuley's lip curled. 
 
 "For money," he said, with infinite contempt. 
 
 "Listen to me," begged Sylvia. 
 
 "I don't want to listen," he cried, half turning 
 away from her. 
 
 "Let me tell you the truth," she persisted. 
 
 "I know the truth already; I have already seen 
 the truth. I know it."
 
 212 THE LURE 
 
 Sylvia caught him by the arms and almost shook 
 him. It was her turn to be furious now. 
 
 "You have got to listen to me!" she cried. "You 
 must, you have got to!" 
 
 "For money," repeated MacAuley, as he tried to 
 pull himself away from her. 
 
 But the girl, desperate now, would not release her 
 hold. 
 
 "Yes, for money," she cried hysterically. "For 
 money to save my mother's life." 
 
 MacAuley wrenched himself free from her. 
 "Don't lie to me," he said surlily. 
 
 But there was no escaping from Sylvia now. She 
 turned and faced him with clenched hands. "I'd be 
 afraid to lie to you, and I don't need to lie to you ; 
 but I am not afraid to tell you the truth. You saw 
 my mother to-night, but you don't know that she 
 is slowly dying; you don't know that just before 
 you came into that room to-night she had been lis- 
 tening to her death sentence from the doctor, simply 
 because we didn't have a hundred dollars to buy 
 medicine and food and sunshine and the fresh air
 
 THE LURE 213 
 
 necessary to keep the breath of life in her dear 
 body." 
 
 "My God!" cried MacAuley, starting back from 
 the girl. There was a great note of contrition in 
 his voice, but Sylvia paid no heed to it. 
 
 "And I couldn't earn that hundred dollars," she 
 went on vehemently. "I couldn't beg it I couldn't 
 borrow it I couldn't steal it even, and yet she is 
 dying for the lack of it. 
 
 "That woman told me she often had work even- 
 ings, you know that fact is true because we spoke 
 of it this very afternoon. In fact, if it hadn't been 
 for you asking me who the woman was you saw me 
 speaking to that day in the shop, that last day that 
 you saw me, I wouldn't be here now. It was your 
 question about her which put the idea into my head 
 again of trying to find her. After you left me I 
 searched through all my things again and found 
 the card at last, and so I came here. I didn't know 
 what I was coming to, or what the work was to be, 
 and when I found out what it was, and when I 
 wanted to go when I tried to get away, she drove
 
 214, THE LURE 
 
 me crazy. I don't know how. It all seems like a 
 daze to me : how I came to be in this dress, how you 
 came to find me. All I know is it was for my 
 mother. She is all I have got and I can't, I won't, 
 let her die." 
 
 MacAuley stood before her, dumb, speechless. 
 His eyes fell before the gaze of the girl whom he 
 had wronged so brutally, but into his face, in spite 
 of all his feelings, there crept an expression of great 
 joy. He did not speak for many seconds. Then 
 taking her hand he lifted it to his lips and kissed it 
 fervently. 
 
 "Sylvia," he said, "can you forgive me? I've 
 been a beast, a brute, a fiend to you. I beg your 
 pardon, but I can never, never forgive myself." 
 
 Then, before the girl could answer, he turned to 
 her with all of his old-time alacrity. "But there is 
 no time to talk of that now, my girl; tell me, how 
 long have you been here ?" 
 
 "About an hour." 
 
 "Do they know who you are?" 
 
 "No, she never asked me my name, and things
 
 THE LURE 215 
 
 happened so rapidly I hadn't time to tell her. No, 
 I am sure she does not know my name." 
 
 "Where are your own dress and hat ?" 
 
 "In that room," said Sylvia, pointing to Number 
 two. 
 
 "Good!" cried Bob; "now listen carefully. I am 
 here on duty. I have got to find a little girl from 
 Springfield. I think they have got her imprisoned 
 in one of these rooms. I've got to find her. I've 
 got to get her out of here." 
 
 "Wait, wait," exclaimed Sylvia, a sudden light 
 breaking on her face. "I think I know where she 
 is." 
 
 "Where?" cried Bob eagerly. "You have seen 
 her?" 
 
 "No, I haven't seen her, but " 
 
 "What?" queried MacAuley breathlessly. 
 
 "I heard a woman moaning and crying just now 
 in a room across the corridor from mine." 
 
 "Then she is here," cried Bob triumphantly. "We 
 have got to save her, Sylvia ; now steady, listen, how 
 long will it take to change your dress ?"
 
 216 THE LURE 
 
 "Two minutes," said Sylvia. 
 
 "Make it one," ordered Bob. 
 
 "I'll do it." 
 
 "Good!" said Bob. "Then go and dress now 
 while I search for her." 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Sylvia, turning toward the door 
 of Number two. 
 
 Bob turned and caught her hand and kissed it 
 fervently. "I'd stay with you every second, but this 
 is my only chance to get to her. You are not 
 afraid?" 
 
 The girl turned toward him and shook her head 
 and smiled, and in that smile Bob MacAuley read 
 his pardon. 
 
 "No," said Sylvia, "I am not a bit afraid now."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 As Sylvia hurried into Number two to change 
 her clothes, MacAuley rushed to the door leading 
 to the areaway and, summoning Jackson, told him 
 to bring Carrie back to the room again. 
 
 "Leave her in here with me. You and Firman 
 stand outside close to the door. At the first signal 
 from me come in and don't waste any time about it, 
 either." 
 
 "Now listen to me," MacAuley added, turning to 
 Carrie and speaking in a low tone, "all I have got to 
 say to you is, for your own sake answer my ques- 
 tions and answer them truthfully." 
 
 "Ah don't know nothin' ; Ah ain't done nothin'." 
 
 "Nothing about what?" snapped MacAuley. 
 
 "About nothin'," affirmed Carrie positively. 
 
 "Ah was just closin' up the house for the night 
 and goin' to take the rent up to the landlord, and 
 in you pops; that's all I know about anything." 
 
 "Oh, yes, you do; you know well enough who I 
 217
 
 218 THE LURE 
 
 am looking for. Where's that little girl from 
 Springfield?" 
 
 His question staggered Carrie for the moment, 
 and if it had been a possibility she would have gone 
 pale. As it was she twitched her hands and stam- 
 mered nervously before she rallied sufficiently to say 
 what was actually the truth. 
 
 "There ain't no little girl from Springfield here, 
 sir; and there ain't never been no little girl from 
 Springfield here, either, that's God's blessed truth." 
 
 "Well, where's Kate Lockwood ?" 
 
 Again Carrie paused and stammered for a mo- 
 ment. 
 
 "Go on, now," said MacAuley sternly. "No non- 
 sense, now ; where is she ?" 
 
 "She is in there dressin'," said Carrie, and she 
 pointed toward the room. 
 
 "And that fellow Paul, where is he?" 
 
 "Maybe he is in one of the rooms down the hall 
 there, somewhere; or he may have gone out to get 
 a drink. Ah don't know; Ah don't keep no track 
 of them persons, sir; Ah am just the maid here."
 
 THE LURE 219 
 
 "Come, now, no more nonsense, tell me quick. Is 
 he in the room down the hall where they have got 
 the little girl locked up?" 
 
 "That little Springfield girl, you mean?" ques- 
 tioned Carrie, sparring for time. "Ah tell you there 
 ain't no little Springfield girl, sir; not here, any- 
 ways." 
 
 At that moment the telephone bell rang. 
 
 Carrie jumped half a foot at the sound. Mac- 
 Auley himself started. 
 
 Carrie made a movement to go to the phone, but 
 quick as a flash Bob stopped her. "Hold on," he 
 said. He held his pistol in his hand. "Is there any 
 one but you likely to come and answer that phone ?" 
 
 "Why, sure, Master Paul or Mrs. Lockwood will, 
 if they only ring long enough; and then they'll be 
 givin' me the devil and want to know why Ah ain't 
 fulfillin' my duties. Please point that gun the other 
 way, sir; Ah ain't done nothin'." 
 
 MacAuley backed swiftly up the room and with 
 the pistol still pointed at Carrie. A huge old ward- 
 robe stood in one corner against the wall. Turning
 
 220 THE LURE 
 
 swiftly he pulled the door open and saw to his relief 
 that while the wardrobe was not empty there was 
 plenty of room for him to stand inside of it. 
 
 "Listen," he whispered cautiously to Carrie, "if 
 you make one movement toward that phone, or if 
 you open your mouth to say one word to any one 
 who enters this room you are a dead woman. Now 
 if you value your black body you keep your mouth 
 shut and your eyes off this cupboard." 
 
 "For the love of God!" gasped Carrie, her very 
 teeth shaking with fright. 
 
 "If that bell rings again let him come in here, let 
 him answer it, and you stand there. And you an- 
 swer him just like you would if you didn't know 
 I had you covered with this gun every minute." 
 
 "Oh, please, sir, Ah, can't do it, Ah am so ner- 
 vous; Ah " 
 
 "Well, mind you, now, it's up to you ; if you even 
 bat your eye you'll be in hell in half a second." 
 
 Again the telephone rang. 
 
 Pulling the door of the wardrobe to, so that it 
 concealed him completely, but still was sufficiently
 
 THE LURE 221 
 
 ajar to permit him to keep a bead on Carrie, Mac- 
 Auley awaited developments in breathless suspense. 
 
 The door of Kate's room opened suddenly. 
 
 Mrs. Lockwood, in full evening dress, was put- 
 ting on a pair of long white gloves. 
 
 "Carrie, where the devil are you!" she cried. 
 "Why don't you answer that phone?" 
 
 At the sight of Carrie standing speechless in the 
 middle of the floor Kate paused in sheer amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 "You must be mistaken, Miss Kate; Ah didn't 
 hear no phone ring." 
 
 "What, don't tell me that; why, what's the matter 
 with you? What are you standing there for?" 
 
 Suddenly Kate turned toward the sofa and saw 
 that Sylvia was gone. "My God!" she cried, 
 "where's that girl gone?" 
 
 "She, she she," gasped Carrie, with the sweat 
 now pouring down her face. "Why, ain't she on 
 the couch, ma'am?" 
 
 "You fool!" hissed Kate, "don't you see she is
 
 THE LURE 
 
 not on the couch? What in the name of heaven 
 have you done with her? Where is she?" 
 
 "Ah don't know, Miss Kate; Ah ain't seen no 
 sign of her for ten minutes. Ah thought she was 
 still right here on the couch." 
 
 "Why don't you know, then?" 
 
 "Well, to tell you the truth, Miss Kate, Ah just 
 leff her here for half a minute, just half a minute." 
 
 "Didn't I tell you to stay here with her?" cried 
 Kate, furious with rage now. "Didn't I tell you to 
 watch her every second ?" 
 
 "But, Miss Kate, Mr. Paul called me. You 
 wouldn't have me disobey Mr. Paul." 
 
 Kate clasped her hands together in consternation. 
 Her face went white. "Good God !" she said ; "did 
 he take her? I will soon stop that." 
 
 She rushed to the door and threw it open; she 
 strode into the corridor with all the fury of a trag- 
 edy queen. Then, throwing discretion to the winds, 
 she called at the top of her voice: "Paul, Paul, 
 bring that girl back here instantly. Instantly, do 
 you hear me?"
 
 THE LURE 223 
 
 Paul, who was standing at the door of Number 
 three, turned so quickly in answer to Kate's sum- 
 mons that he forgot to lock the door behind him. 
 Like a frightened rat he ran down the corridor and 
 close at Kate's heels came hurriedly into the office. 
 
 "What is it ?" cried Paul. "What the devil are 
 you raising this row about?" 
 
 "Where is that girl ? Where is she ? Where is she ?" 
 
 "Where is who?" snarled Paul. 
 
 "I told you to leave that girl alone, didn't I? 
 Now where is she, what have you done with her?" 
 
 "What do you mean, talking to me like this?" 
 cried Paul, now thoroughly mystified. 
 
 "I was down in Number three, that's Nell's room. 
 You saw where I was. I was watching to see 
 whether she had come to or not, and then you let 
 this yell out. Why the devil don't you summon the 
 police at once?" 
 
 "I am not talking about Nell," cried Kate. "It's 
 that other girl, the girl I told you to leave alone ; the 
 girl from Brook Street, Sylvia Jones; what have 
 you done with her?"
 
 224 THE LURE 
 
 "Oh, come off; you must have gone nutty, I 
 guess. I haven't seen her. I haven't set eyes on 
 her. She was here on that couch in this room with 
 you." 
 
 "What?" cried Kate, in her amazement and ter- 
 ror letting her opera cloak slip from her shoulders. 
 "You mean to tell me that; you mean to say you 
 didn't take her out of here ?" 
 
 "I certainly did not; I haven't seen or heard of 
 her, so help me God !" 
 
 Kate gazed at him in blank amazement as though 
 she could not believe her ears. 
 
 "I left her here on this couch and I told Carrie 
 to guard her, to watch her. She is gone." 
 
 "Well, don't jump on me about it," said Paul 
 surlily. "Why don't you ask Carrie?" 
 
 "She had fainted," Kate went on, paying no at- 
 tention to Paul's interruption, "in that chair." 
 
 "Fainted?" sniffed Paul contemptuously. 
 
 "Yes, yes, fainted, that's what I said," continued 
 Kate. "I guess I know when a girl faints. She was 
 down and out if ever I saw one."
 
 THE LURE 225 
 
 "And you two rubes left the room, huh ?" sneered 
 Paul. "Like the devil she's fainted. She was kid- 
 ding you, and she got both your goats. That girl's 
 skipped. That is what she has done, and what's 
 more to the point, she has probably gone straight to 
 the police station." 
 
 "But that is impossible," cried Kate ; "she couldn't 
 get out. The doors are locked. I tell you she is 
 still in here somewhere, and we have got to find 
 her." 
 
 "Ah, she is half-way home by now. I wouldn't 
 trust you two to watch a sick cat. Maybe you'll quit 
 this finesse stuff after a while and follow my or- 
 ders." 
 
 "She is still here, I tell you," cried Kate, stooping 
 down and snatching up the opera cloak which Sylvia 
 had been wearing, and which had fallen to the floor 
 behind the couch. "Here, look at this; here is the 
 cloak she wore. She couldn't have gone on the 
 street in that other dress." 
 
 "Why couldn't she ? When a girl is caught like a 
 rat in a trap and is going to run out of a hole she
 
 226 THE LURE 
 
 can, can't she ? She probably grabbed up her other 
 clothes and took them along with her." 
 
 "By heavens, you'll pay for this, if this girl really 
 has gone," cried Kate, turning on Carrie and shak- 
 ing her fist in her face. 
 
 "Let's search through all of the rooms," Kate 
 continued, throwing open the office door and step- 
 ping out into the corridor. 
 
 "It ain't my fault, Miss Kate," cried Carrie, sud- 
 denly bursting into tears, but not daring to move a 
 foot, as Bob's pistol still covered her. 
 
 "Find her, you fool, find her, or I'll break your 
 neck!" 
 
 In his hurry to scramble into the wardrobe Mac- 
 Auley had dropped his rain coat on a chair. 
 
 Suddenly Paul's eyes fell on it. He pounced upon 
 it like a cat on a mouse. 
 
 "Carrie, whose rain coat is this?" cried Paul. 
 
 "Ah don't know, sir," stammered Carrie. "Ah 
 never seen it before. Perhaps Mr. Wilson, he might 
 have left it."
 
 THE LURE 227 
 
 "Wilson had no overcoat. What man has been 
 here?" demanded Paul sternly. 
 
 "Ah don't know, Mr. Paul, I ain't seen nobody ; 
 Ah swear to God Ah ain't." 
 
 "Nobody has been in here but Jim," said Kate. 
 "You know that, Paul ; at least, not in the last few 
 minutes." 
 
 "This isn't Jim's coat," cried Paul, holding it 
 aloft. 
 
 Kate inspected the coat carefully. 
 
 "Well, this beats everything," she said. "I never 
 saw anything like it before." 
 
 "Hold on; wait a moment," exclaimed Paul, 
 growing suddenly suspicious. "How about that gas 
 inspector, wasn't he wearing a coat something like 
 
 this?" 
 
 "Yes, but he never took his coat off at all," re- 
 plied Kate. "Don't you remember he had the collar 
 turned up when he came in. He opened his coat to 
 take his badge out, but I will swear he never took it 
 off. This can't be his." 
 
 "Listen to me now and tell me the truth," said
 
 228 THE LURE 
 
 Paul, glaring at Kate. "How long have you hon- 
 estly been out of this room ?" 
 
 "Five or six minutes, eight at the very outside; 
 that's all." 
 
 Paul turned on her furiously. 
 
 "Then can't you see what's happened? He came 
 back here while you were out." 
 
 "Paul, it's impossible ; he could not have done it," 
 cried Kate. Though, in spite of her denials, her 
 face went white with fear. 
 
 "Impossible, nothing; that's what happened. 
 There's where your girl has gone to. He took her 
 away with him." 
 
 "You don't really think that, Paul?" exclaimed 
 Kate, shivering and dropping into a chair. "Good 
 God, if that's the case we are done for." 
 
 "He is no gas inspector; I knew it all the time; 
 didn't I tell you so? Damn it, why didn't you watch 
 him? Didn't I say he was a detective?" 
 
 "Well, if he is a detective, then," cried Kate, now 
 trying to bluff the matter out, "he must be in here 
 still; so is she. Carrie says she is not in Number
 
 THE LURE 
 
 two; but she has gone out; she is in the hall some- 
 where ; she is in one of those rooms upstairs. Let's 
 go and look." 
 
 "We'll all have to do time for this," cried Paul. 
 "I always knew that big-hearted sympathy stuff of 
 yours sooner or later would land us all behind the 
 
 bars." 
 
 "Now, Paul, just hold your horses a moment," 
 cried Kate, "until we find out just where we stand." 
 
 "It's all very well for you to talk that way," cried 
 Paul, glaring at his wife, "but what about me? I 
 am the one that will have to suffer more than any 
 of you if we get pinched. They have been laying it 
 for me for more than two years. You know that, 
 and then you, my wife, of all people, run me into a 
 trap like this. My God, I am not going to take a 
 chance; I am going to get out of here. You two 
 will have to look out for yourselves." 
 
 He made a dart toward the door, but Kate caught 
 hold of him. "For God's sake, Paul," she said, 
 "keep your head a minute now ; don't turn tail until 
 you find it is absolutely necessary. Who's the cow-
 
 THE LURE 
 
 ard now, I would like to know? Listen to me: I 
 am going to call up Jim Wilson. We have got to 
 get him here this minute ; and you, Paul, go upstairs 
 and look in those vacant rooms; and, as for you, 
 Carrie, quick to Number three and open the door; 
 stay in that room with Nell, and don't you leave her 
 for one second. Now, go!" 
 
 Paul threw the door open and started up the hall. 
 Kate turned toward the telephone and began to ring 
 it frantically. Carrie, with her eyes fixed on the 
 door of the wardrobe, saw to her amazement that 
 MacAuley had dropped his pistol. She took this 
 action rightly as a signal for her to get out of the 
 room. 
 
 As fast as her fat legs could carry her she ran to 
 the door of Number three and opened it. 
 
 Quick as a flash MacAuley was out of the ward- 
 robe and following on tiptoe down the hall. 
 
 Convinced that the girl in Number three was not 
 the little Springfield girl that he was looking for, he 
 continued his way down the corridor, looking in all 
 the other rooms.
 
 THE LURE 
 
 Kate, in her frantic efforts to get Wilson on the 
 phone, had not even heard the closing of the ward- 
 robe door. 
 
 Then, while she still stood at the phone jiggling 
 the receiver frantically, the door of number two 
 opened and Sylvia, in her street clothes, appeared. 
 
 Her face fell as she saw that Bob was no longer 
 in the room, but there was no time to retreat. Syl- 
 via decided to do the only thing which was possible 
 under the circumstances. Behind Kate's back she 
 tip-toed across the room. She was halfway out of 
 the office door when, with a yell of delight, Paul 
 suddenly pounced upon her, caught her by the throat 
 and dragged her back into the office, slamming the 
 door behind her.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 "Let me out of here let me out!" cried Sylvia, 
 wrenching herself free from Paul, whose back was 
 now against the door. 
 
 "Not so fast, my proud beauty," cried Paul. "So 
 you would try to give us the slip, eh? You would 
 try to bamboozle this credulous little wife of mine 
 and faint, and then slip into your other clothes when 
 her back was turned ? Well, now, we have got you 
 again and we have got you for keeps, see!" 
 
 Desperate now, Sylvia turned toward Kate for 
 protection, but all that that woman would give her 
 was a stony stare. Mechanically she still wiggled 
 the receiver of the telephone frantically. But her 
 eyes were fixed on Sylvia in a way that boded the 
 girl no good. 
 
 "Be careful, Paul," she said finally to her hus- 
 band. "No violence now."
 
 THE LURE 233 
 
 "Here, you phone for Wilson. Let me deal with 
 her. What have you got to say for yourself?" de- 
 manded Kate as Paul took the receiver from her 
 hand. 
 
 "Let me out of here do you hear? That's all I 
 have got to say for myself, and if you don't do it 
 quickly it will be the worse for you," said Sylvia. 
 
 "Where's that man?" demanded Kate. 
 
 "What man?" parried Sylvia. 
 
 "You know well enough what man. Now come, 
 where is he?" 
 
 "He is gone." 
 
 "Gone? Gone where?" persisted Kate. 
 
 "How should I know?" said Sylvia. "He was 
 only here a moment. He said he was the gas in- 
 spector and came back to get his coat." 
 
 "Oh, no, he didn't," sneered Paul, the telephone 
 receiver still in his hand. "Here is his coat." 
 
 "Well, that's all I know about him," said Sylvia, 
 "and now what I want you to do is to let me out of 
 this place immediately."
 
 234 THE LURE 
 
 Kate rose to the occasion now with something of 
 her old-time composure. 
 
 "We're all at loggerheads, aren't we?" she said. 
 "Suppose we calm down and talk reasonably for a 
 moment or two." 
 
 "I don't want to talk reasonably, I don't want to 
 talk at all. I want to get out of here. Let me go." 
 
 "Certainly I will let you go," said Kate quite af- 
 fably, "after you have told me where that man is." 
 
 "I tell you I don't know where that man is, and 
 that's the truth." 
 
 "You are quite sure ?" questioned Kate. 
 
 "Yes, and I am going, too." 
 
 "Of course, you are, my dear. There's no doubt 
 of that, and very glad I shall be to get rid of you, 
 too, so pay up just as soon as you like." 
 
 "Pay up?" echoed Sylvia in amazement. 
 
 "Yes," said Kate briefly. "Pay up, that's what I 
 said. Now, there is the door, and it's open to you 
 the moment that you pay me what you owe me." 
 
 "I don't owe you a penny."
 
 THE LURE 235 
 
 "Oh, yes, you do," repeated Kate in a slightly 
 threatening tone. 
 
 "How dare you say such a thing as that. It's a 
 lie and you know it is. I owe you nothing." 
 
 "Seventy-five dollars for that evening dress, 
 please." 
 
 "I didn't buy that dress!" cried Sylvia. "You 
 forced it on me. There it is in the other room." 
 
 "Do you think I give fine dresses away." 
 
 "The dress is in there," repeated Sylvia, pointing 
 to Number two. "I never bought it from you. You 
 forced it on me. You made your woman put me 
 into it against my will." 
 
 "It's second-hand now," pursued Kate in a still 
 more dominant tone. "I have no use for second- 
 hand clothes in my establishment." 
 
 "I don't want it," cried Sylvia. "I won't take it." 
 
 "Take it or leave it I don't care ; but pay for it 
 you have got to before you leave this room." 
 
 "I won't do anything of the kind," cried Sylvia 
 fearlessly lifting her head and looking her persecu- 
 tor full in the eyes.
 
 236 THE LURE 
 
 "Seventy-five dollars. That's what you owe me, 
 and that's what you have got to pay," reiterated 
 Kate. 
 
 "It's preposterous," declared the girl. "I wouldn't 
 pay you if I had a thousand dollars, and I haven't 
 got it, as you know. In fact, you have taken my 
 purse away, so you know perfectly well that all I 
 had in it was five cents." 
 
 "Pay me and go," demanded Kate. 
 
 "I can't pay you, you know that." 
 
 "Then you had better stop here with me and 
 earn it, my dear, before you think any more of go- 
 ing home to mother." 
 
 They stood there, face to face, measuring 
 glances; but for all the woman's threats and domi- 
 nance Sylvia refused to flinch. 
 
 "You heard what I said," continued Kate. "If 
 you don't pay me that money and you refuse to 
 earn it, I will send for a policeman." 
 
 "Here, Paul, suppose you try your hand at her." 
 
 Paul dropped the telephone and crossed the room. 
 
 "Any trouble, Kate?"
 
 THE LURE 237 
 
 "There may be," replied Kate menacingly, still 
 keeping her eyes fixed on Sylvia's face. 
 
 "What's all this fuss about, anyway?" exclaimed 
 Paul with a leering smile. "Why don't you two 
 girls get together and kiss and make up?" 
 
 "I am perfectly willing to forgive Sylvia," said 
 Kate in a slightly aggrieved tone. "I am only try- 
 ing to do the right thing by her and to get my 
 money back." 
 
 "If you can't get it for me, Paul, the police can, 
 so never mind." 
 
 "Say, don't you know it's a very foolish thing for 
 a new girl to get on the warpath immediately ? Tell 
 me what is the trouble here. I was so busy at that 
 phone there I didn't get onto your argument." 
 
 "She owes me seventy-five dollars," said Kate, 
 "and she won't pay me." 
 
 "I do not owe you anything," said Sylvia. 
 
 "And she wants to go to another house without 
 paying. She expects me to let her do a thing like 
 that," continued Kate.
 
 238 THE LURE 
 
 "Oh, that's not true," cried Sylvia excitedly. "I 
 am going home." 
 
 Paul reached out and caught her by the wrist. 
 
 He twisted it until the girl shrieked out in pain. 
 "Back to home and mother, eh?" he sneered. 
 
 "Yes," persisted Sylvia, forcing the tears back. 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "Then why didn't you stay there to begin with?" 
 shouted Paul, dropping her wrist, but assuming a 
 more formidable attitude, as though he were about 
 to strike her in the face. "If you are so fond of 
 your mother and home, why the devil didn't you 
 stay there?" 
 
 "You know why," answered Sylvia. "If you 
 don't, then ask Mrs. Lockwood. I told her every- 
 thing. She knows I had to look for work." 
 
 "But remember," went on Paul, still leeringly, 
 "you are not going anywhere until you come across 
 with that coin." 
 
 "I tell you I don't owe her anything." 
 
 "Yes," said Paul ; "that is what you all say when 
 you get ready to jump."
 
 THE LURE 239 
 
 "This saying I owe her money is just a part of 
 this woman's scheme to try and make me go with 
 her when she knows that I won't go and that I want 
 to go home." 
 
 Kate was now lined up beside Paul between Syl- 
 via and the office door. 
 
 "You came here voluntarily, didn't you?" cried 
 Kate in an injured tone. "Nobody made you come 
 here to me with your bunk sympathy tale. You 
 thought you could slip away from home and get a 
 few doll clothes and then slip back again and get 
 away with it. You thought nobody would ever 
 know. But things don't come as easy as all that in 
 this world. Your foot always slips. Now I know 
 who you are and where you live and all about you. 
 You are Sylvia Jones of sixty-four Brook Street." 
 
 At mention of her name and address Sylvia took 
 a little step backward and gave vent to an agonized 
 cry. 
 
 "And if you try to start anything here," broke 
 in Paul, shaking his fist in her face, "I will tell the
 
 240 THE LURE 
 
 people at the store what you are and all about you, 
 and they will fire you." 
 
 "Yes," cried Kate, "and when your mother knows 
 the truth she will slam the door in your face." 
 
 "After that," pursued Paul mercilessly, "there 
 will be nothing for you but to walk the streets." 
 
 "Or come back to us," suggested Kate, with a 
 virtuous nod of her head. "That is to say, if we 
 would be good-hearted enough to take you." 
 
 Paul unclinched his fist. He ceased to leer at 
 her. His voice took on a friendly tone. "Come 
 along now, girlie, have a little sense," he exclaimed. 
 "You will find in the long run, if you will only do 
 the right thing, Kate and I are the best friends you 
 have got in the world." 
 
 Kate leaned toward her persuasively. 
 
 "Listen, Sylvia," she said. "Paul is telling you 
 the truth. Don't you think the best and wisest 
 thing you can do is to go back into that room 
 there, change your dress and come on down with 
 me?" 
 
 "No, no, I won't !" cried the girl. "I won't !"
 
 THE LURE 241 
 
 "It might save you a lot of trouble," persisted 
 Kate. 
 
 "Yes; and a couple of black eyes!" cried Paul, 
 doubling his fists again. 
 
 Again Sylvia threw her head back and faced them 
 fearlessly. "Yes, and maybe my life," she cried 
 meaningly. 
 
 Paul shrugged his shoulders and sneered again. 
 
 "That's up to you, kid. If you won't let my wife 
 be a friend to you you will have to take your 
 chances. None of this modest stuff goes with us." 
 
 "You mean to tell me you are going to keep me 
 here by force," cried Sylvia. 
 
 "Yes, until you pay me what you owe me," re- 
 peated Kate. 
 
 Again Paul dropped his mask. 
 
 "Ah, no more of this finesse stuff," he shouted. 
 "Look here, you. Now listen to me. You are going 
 to stay with us whether you want to or not. You 
 are going to do what we say, whether you want to 
 or not. You are going to belong to us, and the 
 money you earn is coming to us, every penny of it r
 
 THE LURE 
 
 and don't you try to hold out on us. Now, do you 
 hear me? Do you understand that ?" 
 
 Paul backed away from the girl for several feet 
 and stood watching the effect of his words upon her. 
 
 Sylvia shuddered and lifted one hand up as 
 though to ward off a cutting blow. 
 
 "You mean you are going to make me a 'white 
 slave' ?" she cried piteously. 
 
 "Yes, that's it !" cried Paul, pointing his finger at 
 her.. "A 'white slave.' You are going to forget 
 that you ever had a name or a home or a mother. 
 I am going to give you a number instead. You are 
 number eight for life do you hear? number 
 eight. Now, what have you got to say about that?" 
 
 Like a hunted creature driven to bay, Sylvia 
 turned and faced them once more. 
 
 "I am going to fight, I am going to fight, I am 
 going to fight !" cried Sylvia. 
 
 "Huh !" Paul gave a sarcastic sneer and whipped 
 his coat off. "Oh, you are, eh? Very well, then, 
 we will have the fight right now !" 
 
 "Put your back against that door, Kate."
 
 THE LURE 243 
 
 On the edge of the desk close beside the telephone 
 receiver stood a half-empty carafe. 
 
 As she spoke the words of challenge to Paul to do 
 his worst, Sylvia, with a bound, seized the carafe 
 and smashed it down upon the desk with all her 
 might. 
 
 The neck of the bottle, with its jagged edge, made 
 an effective weapon. Sylvia grasped it eagerly and 
 held it defiantly above her head. 
 
 "Look out, Kate, she'll stab you !" cried Paul, and 
 Kate, obeying him instantly, made a hasty retreat 
 across the room out of range of the infuriated girl. 
 
 "Lock that door!" cried Paul. "Then we have 
 got her." 
 
 As Kate, too frightened to move, stood motion- 
 less, Paul, with the speed of a tiger cat, darted to- 
 ward the office door, but before he could lay his 
 hand upon the handle there was a piercing shriek in 
 the corridor, and the door flew open and Nell Jor- 
 dan, the young girl in number three, with blackened 
 eyes and streaming hair came shrieking into the 
 room.
 
 244 THE LURE 
 
 Instinctively she ran to Sylvia and, throwing her- 
 self on the floor, threw her arms about the girl for 
 protection. 
 
 "Oh, save me ! Save me ! For God's sake, take me 
 away!" she cried. "That black woman is going to 
 beat me!" 
 
 "She got away, Miss Kate!" gasped Carrie, who 
 at that instant came panting into the room. 
 
 "Take me away! Take me away!" gasped Nell. 
 
 Sylvia stood motionless, the jagged piece of the 
 carafe still in her hand. 
 
 "Take the little one, Carrie, quick there! Leave 
 this other she devil to me, I'll fix her once and for 
 all!" cried Paul, and he made a bound toward 
 Sylvia. 
 
 But before he could reach her MacAuley rushed 
 into the room and catching Paul full in the jaw sent 
 him reeling across the room. 
 
 Before he could stagger to his feet again Mac- 
 Auley had him covered with his pistol. 
 
 Kate and Carrie, speechless with fright, withdrew 
 panting into the far corner of the room.
 
 THE LURE 245 
 
 "Come here, girls," cried Bob commandingly, as 
 he kept the pistol pointed toward Paul. "You want 
 to get out of here, both of you, don't you? Well, 
 Mrs. Lockwood, what have you to say about it ? I 
 am going to take these girls home. Have you any 
 objection? Then come along."
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Before either Sylvia or Nell had a chance to real- 
 ize fully what had happened MacAuley had hailed a 
 taxicab, bundled them both into it and, after a few 
 hurried instructions to the driver, they were on their 
 way downtown. 
 
 "Stop at the first rotisserie you come to," was the 
 order Bob had given as he jumped into the taxicab. 
 
 "What's a rotisserie?" exclaimed Nell, a little ap- 
 prehensively. She was still clinging to Sylvia as 
 her sole protector, and as she put the question she 
 looked at Bob almost suspiciously. 
 
 MacAuley burst out laughing. "Don't be fright- 
 ened, my girl," he exclaimed, smiling at Sylvia. "A 
 rotisserie's all right. It's a place where you get 
 things hot off the griddle, and that's what both of 
 you need at this moment more than anything else 
 
 in the world. I'm just going to have them wrap 
 
 246
 
 THE LURE 247 
 
 us up a couple of chickens and a few other things, 
 and if Miss Jones will only act as hostess we'll be 
 having a little picnic down at her mother's apart- 
 ments in less than half an hour." 
 
 While MacAuley was in the rotisserie making his 
 purchases the girl who was still shaking like an 
 aspen leaf turned to Sylvia again. 
 
 "Is that your name, Miss Jones ?" she asked. 
 "My name is Sylvia Sylvia Jones; and you 
 mustn't worry another minute!" exclaimed Sylvia. 
 "You're coming home with me. Everything is go- 
 ing to be all right now. Mother and I are going to 
 take care of you until Mr. MacAuley has made all 
 the arrangements for sending you home." 
 
 "Oh, but how can I go back home after all this?" 
 cried the girl. "It's true I only left there very early 
 this morning, but my aunt's such a stern old woman. 
 She thinks, of course, I've gone to Albany to see a 
 cousin of mine there, but if she ever learned the 
 
 truth " 
 
 "But she never will learn it!" exclaimed Sylvia 
 confidently. "It's all been a terrible, awful mistake,
 
 248 THE LURE 
 
 but there's no reason for you to worry. Believe me, 
 there isn't. Mr. MacAuley is going to see you 
 through the whole affair." 
 
 "You trust this Mr. MacAuley, don't you?" 
 queried the girl. 
 
 "Of course I do," replied Sylvia. "Why shouldn't 
 I? I have known him a long time." 
 
 "And he's been at your house?!' pursued the girl. 
 "He knows your mother?" 
 
 Sylvia nodded her head and smiled at the recol- 
 lection. 
 
 "Yes, he's been at my house. He knows my 
 mother, and my mother's very fond of him. Why, 
 only to-night she was saying to me that she liked 
 Mr. MacAuley better than any friend that I ever 
 had, and he has proved a friend," continued Sylvia 
 fervently, "a splendid, brave, true friend." 
 
 "But I don't quite understand," continued the 
 other girl. "Did you two meet there just by acci- 
 dent to-night ?" 
 
 "Yes, by accident," answered Sylvia; "and yet it 
 can't have been by accident, either," she continued,
 
 THE LURE 249 
 
 tears welling up into her eyes. "God sent him there 
 to rescue both me and you." 
 
 The girl looked her astonishment. "Do you mean 
 to say that they were trying to hold you there just 
 as they were me?" 
 
 "Yes, I do," said Sylvia; "but don't let's talk 
 about it now. Later on to-night I'll tell you all 
 about it, but just for the present you must trust me 
 and him absolutely. Mr. MacAuley's going to settle 
 everything." 
 
 Presently, when MacAuley returned laden with 
 bundles, he exclaimed: "There's just one thing I 
 want to say to both of you before we reach home. 
 Your mother mustn't know anything about what's 
 happened to-night. There's no reason why she 
 should. So, when we get to your house, I'm going 
 to take this little girl by the way, I don't even 
 know your name, do I?" 
 
 "It's Nell Nell Jordan," answered the girl as 
 she drew Bob's raincoat more tightly around her 
 and began to cry softly again. 
 
 "Very well, then, Nell," continued MacAuley, "as
 
 250 THE LURE 
 
 I was saying, when we reach Miss Sylvia's home 
 I'm going to take you into the rooms of the doctor 
 a friend of mine who lives in the rooms under- 
 neath Miss Sylvia's. He'll fix up that bruise on 
 your face in no time and, besides" MacAuley 
 spoke a little more seriously "we are not entirely 
 out of the woods yet in this case at least, you are, 
 but I'm not," he caught himself as both girls looked 
 at him in a rather frightened way. 
 
 "You see, I've still got to find that little Spring- 
 field girl." 
 
 "You mean a girl from Springfield whom they 
 had hidden in that place where they took me this 
 morning? Why, she is dead!" exclaimed Nell. 
 "Didn't you know?" 
 
 "Dead?" cried MacAuley. "How do you know 
 that? What makes you think so? Good God! If 
 that's the case, some one will go to the chair for 
 this." 
 
 "All that I -know is what I heard that awful col- 
 ored woman say to Fred." 
 
 "To Fred ? Who's Fred ?" questioned Bob.
 
 THE LURE 251 
 
 Nell began to sob again. "The man who was go- 
 ing to marry me." 
 
 "Oh," interrupted Bob, "you mean Paul Lefarge? 
 Well, what did she say to him?" 
 
 "I heard them whispering outside my door. She 
 said to him, 'That fool you brought in last week 
 from Springfield has killed herself.' Then Fred 
 or Paul, as you call him swore fearfully and flung 
 the door open. You see, I still trusted him implicitly, 
 and it was the first time I had seen him from the 
 day he left Auburn. Instead of being glad to see 
 me, he cursed me and struck me in the face. I don't 
 remember much after that, except that I heard him 
 say, 'This is no place for her now. I'm going to 
 take her up to the agency till this thing blows over.' 
 That's all I know." 
 
 They were at the Brook Street tenement now, and 
 MacAuley hurried them up the stairs. The door of 
 the doctor's apartment stood ajar. Bob hustled both 
 the girls in without ceremony. No one was there. 
 
 "He must be upstairs with your mother, Miss 
 Sylvia. I've only got a moment to spare. I'll wait
 
 252 THE LURE 
 
 with Miss Nell here if you'll go upstairs and send 
 him down." 
 
 Sylvia, only too eager to reach the side of her be- 
 loved "Momsey," once again flew up the stairs. 
 
 A moment later the doctor's footsteps could be 
 heard hurrying down the stairs. 
 
 "Here I am again, doctor !" exclaimed Bob, shak- 
 ing hands. "Always turning up like a bad penny, 
 you see. But this time I've a new mission. I've 
 brought you a patient. This is a friend of mine, 
 Miss Nellie Jordan. She's had an accident. She 
 got a bad bruise under the eye." He walked to the 
 table and began to open some of the bundles. 
 "We're all so happy we were wondering if you 
 wouldn't let us have a little sort of picnic supper 
 down here, and, by the way, doctor while I was 
 buying the supper I persuaded the chef at the rotis- 
 serie to throw in this little bit of raw beef. It will 
 do marvels for Miss Nell's bruised eye." 
 
 "The best thing in the world," laughed the doc- 
 tor. "Come here, my dear. I'm very pleased to
 
 THE LURE 
 
 meet you, and still gladder to be of any service to 
 you." 
 
 "Just a moment, doctor, I've got to run. Now 
 cheer up, Miss Nell. Everything's going to be all 
 right don't forget that!" 
 
 Closing the door half to behind him MacAuley 
 said to the doctor. "Things are worse than I sup- 
 posed with that poor little Springfield girl, doctor. 
 I've got to call up the office and have some more men 
 put on the case. I'm going to send two or three 
 down here, doctor. Put them out on the fire escape 
 when they come. I've rather got a sort of suspicion 
 some of these White Slavers may still try to get 
 your patient in there back in their power again." 
 
 "I'd like to see dose devils try to get her away 
 from me in here," cried the doctor valiantly. 
 
 "Tell me about her. She's a nice little girl." 
 
 "Not now," said Bob. "I haven't the time. But 
 later on. I must get those extra men of mine here 
 as quickly as possible, for they're almost certain to 
 track her here. You see, with this little girl's evi- 
 dence we can send them all up the river. They real-
 
 254 THE LURE 
 
 ize that. They know it as well as we do, and nat- 
 urally they're going to move heaven and earth to 
 get her back if they can. They won't get her, of 
 course, but, in the meantime, doctor, I leave her in 
 your charge. I know that you'll do everything to 
 make her comfortable, and, by the way, here's an- 
 other thing, doctor," and MacAuley pressed two 
 ten-dollar bills into his hand. "Those medicines and 
 things for Mrs. Jones. I want you to get them 
 to-night or at the latest the very first thing in the 
 morning." 
 
 "You're a fine man a fine man!" cried the doc- 
 tor, pocketing the bills delightedly. MacAuley gave 
 him a hearty slap on the shoulder and with a laugh 
 started downstairs. 
 
 "Never mind how fine a man I am, you look out 
 for the little girl, doctor. That's the main point just 
 now." 
 
 The doctor turned and entered the room, closing 
 the door softly behind him. Nell, with her head 
 resting upon the table, was sobbing her heart out. 
 
 The doctor started at once to examine her bruise.
 
 THE LURE 255 
 
 "It will be almost gone by to-morrow morning, my 
 dear. Don't cry, now. Cheer up !" 
 
 "But what's my mother going to say when she 
 hears about all this ? She's way out west, you know. 
 She married again, and her husband didn't like me. 
 That's why I've been living with this old aunt of 
 mine. If it hadn't been that I was so lonely for 
 mother all this trouble would never have happened 
 to me, and now what's she going to say, doctor, 
 when she hears?" 
 
 "What every mother says, my dear," said the doc- 
 tor reassuringly. "She is still my baby." 
 
 "My aunt won't let me go back home now." 
 
 "Oh, yes, she will !" exclaimed the doctor. "Take 
 it from me, my dear, somedimes ven the troble 
 comes it's the sternest old vomen who haf got the 
 softest hearts." 
 
 "I never meant to do any wrong," said Nell. 
 
 "Of course you didn't. What did you do, my 
 dear?" 
 
 "You see, I was so lonesome," said Nell, "after 
 mother went. I never had anything to amuse me,
 
 256 THE LURE 
 
 I never went anywhere, and then, at a church so- 
 ciable, I met this young fellow from New York. I 
 had never loved anybody before and I trusted 
 him." 
 
 "Oh," said the doctor, comprehendingly. "So you 
 ran away from home with a man ?" 
 
 "Well, not exactly that. You see, we were to 
 have eloped, but before I could get away he was 
 called back here on business, so he wrote to me to 
 meet him here and we'd get married at once." 
 
 "Oh, I see," and the doctor nodded his head. 
 "One of them counterfeit lovers, huh? Cupid may 
 wear an angel's vings, but sometimes he works for 
 the devil just the same. There, there, don't think 
 about it any more." 
 
 "But I never can think of anything else," cried 
 Nell. "How can I ? And the worst of it is, I still 
 love him. 1 can't get him out of my head. I can't 
 bring myself to believe in spite of his cruelty this 
 morning that he's half as great a villain as they're 
 making him out." 
 
 "He's a villain all right. You ought to thank God
 
 THE LURE 257 
 
 you've got rid of him so easy. Doesn't the warm 
 water make your face feel better? Now come, I'm 
 going to give you something to eat." 
 
 Two minutes later Sylvia came down from her 
 mother's room. 
 
 "She's fast asleep now, dear momsey," she said 
 to the doctor. "The sight of me seemed to soothe 
 her so much she dropped right off to sleep." 
 
 "Sit down at that table this minute now, and eat 
 your pretty head off. Dat's the trouble with both 
 you little girls. You don't know how hungry you 
 iss. You been so excited you ain't had no time to 
 think about it." 
 
 Five minutes later when MacAuley returned with 
 two detectives he found the doctor, Sylvia and Nell 
 eating ravenously. 
 
 "I'm just going to put these friends of mine on 
 the fire escape," exclaimed MacAuley. "Just in case 
 of an emergency, you know." 
 
 Nell sprang to her feet with a little cry. "Why, 
 what's the matter? Are they coming to take me 
 back ? You don't think that, do you ?"
 
 258 THE LURE 
 
 "No, they won't bother you any more, little girl. 
 Don't you worry," answered Bob. "Are you feeling 
 .better?" 
 
 ""Yes, ever so much, thank you. Only my head 
 aches so." 
 
 "Can't you give her something to cure that, doc- 
 tor?" asked Bob. 
 
 "Yes; I have a powder in my bag, but it's up- 
 stairs in Mrs. Jones' room. I'll go up and get it." 
 
 "I'm just going round the corner to Callahan's," 
 said Bob, "I'll be back at once." 
 
 "Now," said Sylvia, "the next thing I must get 
 you is some clothes. You can have my dressing 
 gown and a pair of mother's slippers. I'll go and 
 get them for you at once. I won't be a minute." 
 
 Leaving the door of the doctor's room ajar, Syl- 
 via followed the doctor up to her own rooms. 
 
 Nell was still sitting at the table, her back toward 
 the door. 
 
 Suddenly the door was opened a little wider, and 
 Paul Lefarge, taking a hasty survey of the situa-
 
 THE LURE 259 
 
 tion, tip-toed into the room, shutting the door behind 
 him so carefully that Nell did not hear the sound. 
 
 With a bound he sprang toward her, and before 
 she could utter more than a startled exclamation his 
 hand was over her mouth. 
 
 "Don't scream, Nell !" he exclaimed in a whisper. 
 "I'm not going to hurt you. Listen, Nell, listen. 
 Save me, for God's sake. Listen to me. You know 
 what this fellow's going to do with you, don't you? 
 He's going to throw you into jail and hold you as a 
 witness against me, the man that you've told me 
 time and time again you would gladly give your life 
 for." 
 
 Nell struggled feebly to release herself, but Paul's 
 gaze, which was fixed upon her eyes, could not fail 
 to see that his words were having an effect. 
 
 "You've misjudged me, Nell. I'll prove it to you 
 if you'll only give me a chance. I'm not as bad as 
 you think I am. Not by a long way. God ! Can't 
 you see I'm taking my life into my hands this very 
 minute to come here and get you? You know I 
 want to do the right thing by you. Do you think
 
 260 THE LURE 
 
 I'd be here if I didn't ? If ever a man made a sacri- 
 fice of himself for the love of a woman I'm do- 
 ing it now, and whether you come along with me 
 now or whether you stay here and testify against 
 me, remember this, little Nell, you're the one love of 
 my life. There has never been any one like you, 
 and there never will be. Who knows, if you'll only 
 come away with me now and stick by me and keep 
 your mouth shut, why there's a chance, Nell, that 
 you can redeem me? Oh, I know that you think 
 I'm all bad, but I'm not! I'm not! I never had a 
 chance when I was a kid, and then this Lockwood 
 woman and others like her got hold of me. It 
 wasn't my fault they got me into their power, and 
 she and Wilson have always used me to do their 
 dirty work if they could. Why, I was almost as 
 young as you are, Nell, when I met them first, and 
 although I was a city-bred boy, I didn't know very 
 much more than you about the world. Then one 
 night they accused me of stealing a diamond ring. 
 That big stiff Wilson threatened to send me to jail. 
 He held that over my head. Then things went from
 
 THE LURE 261 
 
 bad to worse, until five or six weeks ago, when I 
 first met you. I never knew what love meant until 
 I met you, Nell, and I do love you now. Honest 
 to God, I do! You're the only girl I'll ever make 
 my wife, and to-night I had it all fixed. I didn't tell 
 you up there in the agency because I wanted to let 
 you have a good rest first, but I had the plan all 
 mapped out. I was going to take you away and 
 marry you just as I said I would that last day up 
 in Auburn." 
 
 Watching her catlike as the girl's eyes began to 
 fill with tears, he removed his hand from her mouth 
 and, passing his arm about her, half knelt on the 
 floor beside her. 
 
 "See how I trust you. I know you won't scream. 
 I know you won't give me away. You're an ace, 
 Nell, you're a queen." 
 
 "Oh, Fred, Fred," sobbed the girl, waveringly. 
 "If I only could believe you. But why should Mr. 
 MacAuley lie to me, and then remember this morn- 
 ing that time you struck me?" 
 
 "That was an accident," he explained hastily. "I
 
 262 THE LURE 
 
 was nervous, all upset, and I'd been drinking, too. 
 I'd just heard some bad news. I didn't know what 
 I was doing." 
 
 "Yes; but how do I know that you won't do it 
 again ?" 
 
 "Never ! Never ! So help me God ! Nell, I'll never 
 put my hand on you again except in the way of 
 love." 
 
 "And then your name you didn't even tell me 
 the truth about that. Mr. MacAuley says your 
 name is Paul Lefarge, and you introduced yourself 
 to me as Fred Manly." 
 
 Paul turned to her with all the blandness of a 
 child. "I know I did, but do you know why I did 
 that, Nell? Lefarge is the name I work under. 
 Fred Manly's my own name. I wanted to keep it 
 clean and decent for the woman who was to be my 
 wife. I couldn't lie to you about my name, because 
 I wanted you to bear it sooner or later. So you 
 keep right on calling me Fred, little girl, no matter 
 what anybody says, and I'll stick to you and protect
 
 THE LURE 263 
 
 you and love you. I love you as no little girl was 
 ever loved before." 
 
 "But I'm afraid, Fred I'm afraid!" wailed the 
 girl. "Something tells me not to go with you. I 
 mustn't !" 
 
 "But you must, dear," he whispered gently and 
 persuasively. "If you don't come away with me to- 
 night I shall go straight to the devil. By God ! I'll 
 do worse than that" his voice sank and took on a 
 more desperate tone "I'll kill myself ! If you turn 
 me down now I'll go right out of this room and 
 shoot myself. That's what I'll do. I'll shoot my- 
 self here before your very eyes. I've got the goods 
 to do it with, too." As he spoke he put his hand into 
 his hip pocket. "There it is," he said, as he held a 
 small pistol toward her. "How would you like to 
 have my blood on your soul, Nell the blood of the 
 man you loved ?" 
 
 Nell covered her face with her hands and shud- 
 dered. "Put it away, Fred ; put it away quick ! I 
 can't bear to look at it !" she cried. 
 
 "But you'll have to look at me afterward, if
 
 264 THE LURE 
 
 you don't come with me now, Nell," he went on 
 grimly. "That would be a worse sight for you, 
 wouldn't it? You would never get it out of your 
 memory, and you will never forgive yourself for 
 having driven me to it you the one woman in the 
 world who has a chance to redeem and make a man 
 of me. I shall haunt you always. You'll never 
 have a happy moment, because your heart and soul 
 will tell you always that you're the woman that 
 sent the one man who loved you honestly to hell !" 
 
 "Don't! Don't!" cried the girl. "You're driving 
 me mad !" 
 
 "But what about me? Don't you think you're 
 driving me mad, too?" he continued with a fine 
 imitation of a quiver in his voice. "Don't you think 
 I've got a heart. Now listen, Nell," he went on in 
 a coaxing tone, "can't you see the position I'm in. 
 Wilson, the big bully politician, and that Lockwood 
 woman, are trying to make me their scapegoat. If 
 any of us get into trouble to-night with the police 
 they are going to put the blame of everything on me. 
 So you see, I've got to get away right away, Nell.
 
 THE LURE 265 
 
 I can't wait another minute not even for you. 
 Now listen, kid. Here's our plan : I've taken all my 
 money out of the savings bank. I've got it right 
 here with me. You come along with me right off, 
 just as you are and help me. You give me my 
 chance to make a man of myself, and I'll pay you 
 back nobly, Nell. I'll make you the happiest and 
 the proudest woman in the world. Oh, what's the 
 use, Nell?" he exclaimed coaxingly and smiling for 
 the first time. "You know you're just as crazy about 
 me as you ever were. Come on, Kid !' 
 
 But to his disgust, just as he thought the game 
 was won, the girl suddenly drew away from him. 
 "Oh, I'm afraid afraid !" she cried. 
 "I'll never be cruel to you again, Nell. Remem- 
 ber that I've promised." 
 
 "Yes; but you promised before," said the girl, 
 
 "and you didn't keep your promise that's 
 
 "I will now," interrupted Paul. "But I will keep 
 it now, and just to prove it I'll tell you what I'll do 
 if you'll come right away with me now."
 
 266 THE LURE 
 
 "What will you do?" Nell raised her face to his 
 with an eager look. 
 
 "I'll marry you, little girl," he said impressively. 
 "That's what I'll do. I'll marry you this very 
 night." 
 
 "Do you mean it ?" 
 
 "I certainly do come along!" 
 
 With his arm still about her he raised her gently 
 from the chair and started toward the door. 
 
 But once again the girl wavered. "If I only 
 dared," she said. "If I only could believe you." 
 
 "Just give me this one chance, kid this one 
 chance to prove how much I really love you. It'll 
 be easy enough to find a justice of the peace. Why, 
 you can be Mrs. Fred Manly in half an hour." 
 
 "Then you really will marry me ?" 
 
 "Why, kid, I've got the license right here in my 
 pocket. There's a taxi waiting for us down at the 
 door. We can drive right to the justice of the 
 peace." 
 
 "I'd rather be married by a clergyman," said the 
 girl. "You see, all my people are all old-fashioned
 
 THE LURE 267 
 
 folks. None of them have ever been married in 
 any other way." 
 
 'Then it's right to the preacher's for us," he cried 
 cheerily, now confident that he had bagged his 
 quarry. 
 
 "You see, if we are married by a clergyman," 
 said Nell, "I can go home without feeling the least 
 bit ashamed." 
 
 "Of course, you can!" he exclaimed quickly. 
 "But for God's sake, hurry, Nell! Come on, we 
 haven't a second to lose." 
 
 "But I must say good-bye to Sylvia first. It 
 wouldn't be fair to " 
 
 "Fair nothing !" turning on her with a snarl, for 
 the first time angry. "Let's get married first, then," 
 and as he spoke he gave a sarcastic smile, "we can 
 come back and get their congratulations." 
 
 That smile proved exceedingly costly to Paul. 
 
 Nell, perceiving it and catching something of the 
 sneer which lay behind it, drew away from him in- 
 stantly. 
 
 "I can't go," she said ; "at least, not yet. I must
 
 268 THE LURE 
 
 say good-bye to Sylvia, and, besides, I have no 
 clothes. You wouldn't have me marry you like this 
 in Mr. MacAuley's raincoat?" 
 
 "What do clothes matter to us, Nell?" he urged 
 her. "And, besides, I thought of that. Your dress 
 and coat and hat and things are all down in the 
 taxi. You see, Nell, I've shown much greater faith 
 in you than you have in me. When I hired that taxi 
 to come down here I put the clothes in, because, I 
 said to myself, that little kid is the one real friend 
 I've got in the world. She'll never go back on me, 
 she'll never give me the go-by, and I wasn't a bad 
 prophet, was I? For here we are right on the 
 way to the preacher's. It's all turned out for the 
 best." 
 
 He stopped suddenly. His jaw fell. Nell, with a 
 little start, took a step away from him. The eyes 
 of both the man and girl were fixed on the same 
 spot. It was the figure of Sylvia, who had entered 
 the room unheard by either of them and now stood 
 with her back against the door. 
 
 Before she had a chance to open her lips or ex-
 
 THE LURE 269 
 
 press her amazement Paul's quick wit had risen to 
 the new occasion. His catlike eyes took in at a 
 glance the fact that Sylvia was trembling with fear. 
 Paul gave a sneering little laugh and exclaimed: 
 "Hello, there!" 
 
 "What are you doing here ? What do you want ?" 
 demanded Sylvia in a frightened but defiant tone. 
 
 "Just one thing, and I've got it. I want my wife." 
 
 "Yes, Miss Sylvia, that's true. I was just wait- 
 ing to say good-bye to you. It's all right. Fred's 
 explained everything, and he's going to marry me 
 to-night." 
 
 Sylvia, apparently paying no attention to Nell's 
 announcement, kept her big honest eyes fixed stead- 
 fastly on Lefarge's face. 
 
 "Your wife?" she echoed. "But your wife's not 
 here. Your wife, Mrs. Lockwood, as far as I know, 
 is still in the agency uptown. This is the last place 
 in the world for you to look for her after what hap- 
 pened to-day." 
 
 As Sylvia spoke, Nell gave a little cry and slipped 
 out of Lefarge's protecting arm. Then, for the
 
 270 THE LURE 
 
 first time, Sylvia, realizing that Nell was in deadly 
 earnest in her intention, turned to the girl. 
 
 "You must be mad !" she cried, "after all you've 
 heard about him. After all you went through to- 
 day. Why, I tell you, the man's already married. 
 I know that for a fact ; and, anyway, whether he is 
 or not, you're not going away with him to-night. I 
 saved you once to-day, and I'm going to do it again." 
 
 She turned on Paul with flashing eyes and flung 
 the door open. 
 
 "Get out of here !" she cried. "Quick! And don't 
 you touch that girl !" 
 
 Catching Nell by the hand and pulling her to- 
 ward the door hurriedly, Paul exclaimed with a sin- 
 ister smile: "Ta! ta! number eight. Get out of my 
 way there! This girl is going with me!" 
 
 "No, she's not !" cried Sylvia as she slammed the 
 door to and put her back against it. "You can go if 
 you like the quicker the better but not this little 
 girl. She stays here, you understand ! She doesn't 
 leave this room with you, except over my dead 
 body!"
 
 "GET OUT OF MY WAT THERE! THIS GIRL is GOING WITH ME." p. 270
 
 THE LURE 271 
 
 "Oh, yes, she will!" cried Paul confidently, and 
 his hand went back to his hip pocket in a threaten- 
 ing way. 
 
 "Oh, you can't frighten me," retorted Sylvia, 
 gaining courage every second. "I'm not afraid of 
 your pistol. You wouldn't dare to use it. Let that 
 little girl go ! Take your hands off her ! Get out of 
 this room quickly. I'm giving you your last chance." 
 
 "Threatening business, eh?" sneered Paul, turn- 
 ing on her furiously. "Listen here, Number Eight. 
 Step away from that door. If you don't, I'll beat 
 your face in. I don't want to hurt you, but you've 
 got to let my girl and I go peacefully. What right 
 have you got to stop us being married?" 
 
 "Every right on earth!" cried Sylvia. "Because 
 I know you for the vile beast that you are. Because 
 I know that you're already a married man. Nell," 
 she added, turning imploringly to the girl, "for 
 God's sake, don't do it, and listen to me. You shan't 
 go with him. I tell you you shan't." 
 
 "But, Miss Sylvia," expostulated the girl nerv- 
 ously, "you don't understand, he's going to marry
 
 272 THE LURE 
 
 me. He isn't Mrs. Lockwood's husband he's go- 
 ing to marry me." 
 
 "Look here, I've had enough of this argument!" 
 cried Lefarge, raising his voice in an angry tone. 
 
 "Don't talk so loud !" cried Sylvia, "my mother's 
 very ill upstairs. I wouldn't have her hear this row 
 for anything in the world." 
 
 "I don't give a damn about your mother!" cried 
 Paul. "You get out of the way. Do you hear me ? 
 If you don't, I'll beat your face in !" As he spoke he 
 struck viciously at Sylvia, but, with a quick move- 
 ment, she dodged the blow. Then, catching hold of 
 her, by sheer strength, he dragged Sylvia's hands off 
 the door handle. As the door swung open he 
 clutched Nell round the waist and started to drag 
 her through the door, but in an instant Sylvia was 
 at him again, battling with the strength of a young 
 fury. 
 
 "What's all this about?" and MacAuley entered. 
 "Seems to me I'm just in time." 
 
 MacAuley's voice rang out clear and loud from 
 the landing, and at the sound of it Sylvia, with a
 
 THE LURE 27S 
 
 little cry of thankfulness, released her hold upon 
 the struggling girl. 
 
 For the second time that day MacAuley handed 
 Paul Lefarge an uppercut which sent him staggering 
 halfway across the room. This time, however, he 
 rallied more quickly, and turning on Bob made a 
 quick dart for the door. But a clever bit of jiu- 
 jitsu work on MacAuley 's part soon completed his 
 capture. Lefarge, except with women, had never 
 been noted as a successful fighting man. As he was 
 still writhing with agony in the detective's viselike 
 grip, Bob stared down into his face with a sinister 
 smile. 
 
 "I wondered if you'd have nerve enough to try 
 it !" he exclaimed. "You must have been pretty des- 
 perate to take the risk, but I had the trap all set for 
 you, though frankly, I never believed you'd be fool 
 enough to take the bait." 
 
 "He's trying to take Nell away with him," cried 
 Sylvia. "That's what he came for. I can't make 
 her believe that he's married already." 
 
 "You won't have to," replied Bob grimly. "The
 
 274 THE LURE 
 
 law will do that, Miss Sylvia. You just leave him 
 to me." 
 
 As he spoke MacAuley released his hold on Paul 
 and gave him a shove toward the door. 
 
 "Out on the sidewalk for you!" he cried. "I'll 
 see you out there. This is no place for you and I 
 want to finish up this affair." 
 
 But to MacAuley's surprise, instead of making a 
 hasty exit, Lefarge stood his ground. 
 
 "We'll see who goes to the sidewalk!" he cried. 
 "You damn fool! do you suppose I'd come down 
 here single-handed?" 
 
 Stepping out on the landing Lefarge gave a long, 
 shrill whistle, and immediately there was the sound 
 of footsteps coming up the stairs. 
 
 MacAuley was the first to recognize the figure 
 who appeared the next moment in the doorway. 
 
 "Ah, glad to see you, Mr. Wilson, come right in!" 
 cried Bob with a great deal of enthusiasm. 
 
 At sight of MacAuley Wilson's face clouded sud- 
 denly. He gave a gasp of surprise.
 
 THE LURE 275 
 
 "Ah, the gas-man!" he exclaimed. "You here, 
 too? Quite a pleasant little party." 
 
 "Look here, Jim," cried Paul, once more stepping 
 into the picture. "This kid wants to go home with 
 me. This fellow is trying to stop her." 
 
 "He is, is he?" exclaimed Wilson, with a surly 
 chuckle. 
 
 "Yes," cried Paul. "He's holding her here by 
 force." 
 
 "Then we'll have to see about that," continued 
 Wilson impressively. "What's your game, young 
 man ?" he added sternly. 
 
 "Why, your friend's just told you," said Bob. 
 "I'm trying to stop her from going with him among 
 other things." 
 
 "Isn't that a rather risky thing for you to do, 
 young man? Is this girl your wife or your sister?" 
 
 "No," said Bob. 
 
 "Don't you realize that this sort of business may 
 lead you to the station house ?" 
 
 "I have no objection to going to the station
 
 276 THE LURE 
 
 house," said Bob, "provided certain persons accom- 
 pany me." 
 
 "Threatening business, eh ? Do you realize, young 
 man, that this is the second time to-day I've run 
 across you butting into other people's premises?" 
 
 "Yes," said Paul, with a mysterious smile, "it has 
 been a day of coincidences, hasn't it?" 
 
 "What do you mean by that ?" exclaimed Wilson. 
 
 "I was merely remarking that some strange fate 
 seemed to be making us run into each other fre- 
 quently to-day." 
 
 "Don't argue with him. Come, let's take her!" 
 cried Paul. 
 
 Sylvia, with her arms about Nell, had now re- 
 treated into a far corner of the room. 
 
 "Wait a minute," exclaimed Wilson. "This is my 
 affair. I'll manage this." 
 
 "I don't quite understand," said MacAuley, in a 
 seemingly bewildered tone. "Where do you come 
 in ? Are you a police officer ?" 
 
 "No," was the reply ; "but I think I told you once 
 before to-day that I'm Jim Wilson, the politician."
 
 THE LURE 277 
 
 "That's true," said Bob. "I think you did tell me 
 that." 
 
 "Well, this boy happens to belong to my district," 
 continued Wilson importantly. "I know him, and 
 he's a friend of mine and he's all right. And I'm 
 not going to see his home broken up by any out- 
 sider." 
 
 "Oh, what's the use of stopping to argue with 
 him ?" cried Paul impatiently. "Come along ! Let's 
 get out of here. We've got the girl out of his 
 clutches. Let's go." 
 
 "Shut up, now!" cried Wilson sternly. "You 
 asked me to come here with you. This matter's in 
 my hands now, and I'm going to see it through to a 
 finish." 
 
 He turned and grinned at MacAuley with a smile 
 that was as malignant as it was superior. 
 
 "My young friend here," continued Wilson, "has 
 told me all about the little run-in you had at Miss 
 Kate's a while ago after I left you there. Of course, 
 I'm not saying for a moment that you were not do- 
 ing the right thing in helping a woman that you
 
 278 THE LURE 
 
 thought was in trouble. Any man would do that. 
 I've often done it myself. But you didn't under- 
 stand it was only a little family squabble they was 
 having. It didn't amount to anything, and surely, 
 young man, your experience even in the gas business 
 should have taught you that it's only a damn fool 
 who ever dares to interfere in a quarrel between 
 husband and wife." 
 
 As he made this last assertion, Sylvia and Bob 
 both burst out laughing. Poor little Nell's face be- 
 came a study in dismay. 
 
 Paul began to curse vehemently under his breath. 
 
 "Then I'm to understand you to say that this 
 young man here is Mrs. Lockwood's husband?" 
 
 Paul made a gesture as though he would prevent 
 Wilson from answering the question, but the poli- 
 tician, feeling himself entire master of the situation, 
 went blindly on : 
 
 "Why, of course, they're married. What did you 
 suppose he was her son ? That's a little rough on 
 Miss Kate, isn't it? She may not be in her first 
 flush of youth, but she certainly isn't ancient enough
 
 THE LURE 279 
 
 to have a son as old as him. Why, I fix up little 
 scraps like that between husbands and wives 
 every day, and it is one of the pleasures of my life. 
 They live happily ever after, or at least until the 
 next family war breaks out." 
 
 "That's quite right," replied MacAuley. "But 
 I'm afraid your young friend here has rather mixed 
 you up regarding the facts. The row which took 
 place up in the agency was not on account of Mrs. 
 Lockwood or Mrs. Lefarge, as we properly should 
 call her. The quarrel was all about these two young 
 girls here, whom the Lockwood woman and her 
 husband" as he spoke the words "her husband" 
 Nell buried her face on Sylvia's shoulder with a wail 
 of despair "were trying to restrain by force." 
 
 "Well, what of that? What's your gas company 
 got to do with the matter, anyhow? That's what 
 I'd like to know. Now you've been entirely too 
 fresh to-day, young man. You've gone a bit be- 
 yond yourself. This young lady here is an old 
 friend of both Mr. Lefarge and his wife. She's 
 perfectly willing and wants to go back to them.
 
 280 THE LURE 
 
 And she's going. What the devil have you got to 
 say about it ?" 
 
 "That's the stuff, Jim. That's the way to talk to 
 him." 
 
 "Keep on doing things like this and the first thing 
 you know you'll be getting yourself into very seri- 
 ous trouble. You can't continue making a fool of 
 yourself like this, because, you know, you won't al- 
 ways run up against as good-natured an antagonist 
 as I am." 
 
 "Oh," exclaimed MacAuley smilingly, "then I'm 
 to understand that we are antagonists? Do I get 
 your point?" 
 
 Wilson shrugged his shoulders in a bored sort of 
 way. The conversation seemed to be wearying him. 
 
 "Take it or leave it, just as you like. Come along, 
 Paul. Get your little friend there. I guess we'll be 
 getting on." 
 
 "Just a moment, please," said MacAuley, placing 
 himself between Wilson and the door. 
 
 "Of course, you know the reason this little girl is 
 willing to go away with your friend Lefarge here?"
 
 THE LURE 281 
 
 Wilson looked blank for a moment. "Why, cer- 
 tainly. I told you once before, didn't I? She's a 
 protegee of his wife's." 
 
 "She is, eh?" replied MacAuley. "Then how do 
 you account for the fact that he's trying to take 
 her away from here in order to marry her in half an 
 hour. To put the case more plainly," continued 
 Bob, "this young friend of yours here, this Le- 
 farge," continued MacAuley, "has made exactly the 
 same promise to this little girl that he made to that 
 other poor little girl, the late Katherine Baker of 
 Springfield, whose dead body you are going to 
 smuggle out to-night from the establishment of 
 which you're a half owner." 
 
 Wilson's face went white. "Who the hell are 
 you ?" he cried. "What do you mean?" 
 
 "You know what I mean," said Bob, with slow 
 emphasis. "As for my name, perhaps you may have 
 heard it before. It's MacAuley." 
 
 "Bob MacAuley?" cried Wilson, in a terror- 
 stricken tone. "MacAuley, the federal officer?"
 
 282 THE LURE 
 
 Paul made a swift dart toward the door, but Bob 
 intercepted him : 
 
 "Don't get excited now. What's the use?" he 
 said. "We may as well all tell our real names now." 
 
 Wilson, making a frantic effort to pull himself to- 
 gether, sought refuge in his usual blustering fa- 
 miliarity. 
 
 "Well, this really is a surprise, MacAuley. I'm 
 damned glad to meet you. I've heard about you 
 often, and " 
 
 "Oh, you have heard about me, eh ?" 
 
 "Why, of course," replied Wilson blandly. "A 
 federal officer who has done as much clever work as 
 you have done is naturally ' 
 
 "Oh, that's all right, then," said Bob significantly. 
 "We won't have any trouble then, will we?" 
 
 "Trouble?" echoed Wilson in a blank tone. 
 
 "Yes, that's what I said," repeated Bob with em- 
 phasis. "Trouble." 
 
 "Why, of course, if this is some particular case 
 that you're working on, naturally I shan't interfere. 
 But why didn't you introduce yourself properly
 
 THE LURE 283 
 
 when we met to-night? If I had known who you 
 were I might have been able to help you." 
 
 "Well, to tell the truth, Wilson," smiled Bob, 
 "I thought you were giving me a good deal of as- 
 sistance as it was." 
 
 "But, my dear fellow, if you'd only told me. 
 You'd ought to have known my reputation." 
 
 "Yes," interrupted Bob succinctly. 
 
 "What I mean is, we politicians naturally have 
 got to keep in with the police. We're a mutual help 
 to each other. There's many and many a big de- 
 tective mystery to which Jim Wilson gave the de- 
 tectives the first clue." 
 
 "Yes," replied Bob ; "and there's many and many 
 a mystery besides that Jim Wilson could give a clue 
 to. In fact, which he could solve himself, if he 
 wanted to. This very case, that I'm working on 
 now. The kidnapping and death of this poor, little 
 Springfield girl. I am relying on you, you know, 
 Wilson, to give me nearly all the facts about that. 
 If you hadn't called on me so informally just now 
 I should have dropped in on you later, in any case.
 
 284 THE LURE 
 
 My original intention was to arrest Kate and Paul 
 and that black Hellion of a maid of hers, but, as 
 you've walked right into my trap of your own ac- 
 cord, I don't see why it wouldn't be better perhaps 
 to get the painful ordeal over now." 
 
 While he was speaking Paul had been edging his 
 way toward the fire escape. Lifting the curtain he 
 dropped it quickly with a half -stifled cry. Turning 
 suddenly, before Wilson could rally or reply to his 
 last remark, Bob cried at the top of his voice to 
 Paul: 
 
 "I wouldn't try to go out there if I were you, Le- 
 farge. The men out there have orders to shoot any 
 one who goes out by that route. I had you particu- 
 larly in mind when I gave them that order." 
 
 Wilson pulled himself together for his final bluff. 
 
 "Well, I guess there's nothing more for me to 
 do here. I think I'll be going." 
 
 As he made the remark he looked at Bob some- 
 what apprehensively, as though fearing he would 
 make an effort to stop him leaving the room. But 
 MacAuley made no protest.
 
 THE LURE 285 
 
 Wilson put on his hat and threw open the door 
 to find himself confronted by six plain-clothes men. 
 
 Paul, who had followed close on Wilson's heels, 
 at sight of the detectives turned back to MacAuley 
 as his last resort. 
 
 "Well, I'm leaving the girl here, ain't I? You 
 don't want me for anything, do you ?" 
 
 "What's your own opinion about that?" asked 
 MacAuley sternly. 
 
 Lefarge gave no answer, but Wilson, turning to 
 Paul again, said : "I don't see why you want either 
 of us. He hasn't violated any Government law, has 
 he?" 
 
 "Don't you know ?" said Bob sharply. 
 
 "How should I ?" exclaimed Wilson. 
 
 "Politicians and policemen often know a lot of 
 things they're not supposed to," retorted Paul. 
 
 Wilson made a ghastly effort to laugh. "Say, 
 you're a great kidder, aren't you, MacAuley ? You 
 stalled me for fair to-night when you said you was 
 the gas-man." 
 
 "Well, if it comes to that," laughed Bob, "you
 
 286 THE LURE 
 
 must remember, Wilson, you're something of a 
 staller yourself." 
 
 "How's that?" asked Wilson surlily. 
 
 "Well, for instance," said Bob, "let me ask you a 
 question: Did you catch your burglar?" 
 
 Wilson gave a sickly smile. "You make me tired," 
 he snarled. "What are you driving at, anyway ?'" 
 
 "At the White Slavers as usual," cried MacAuley 
 with flashing eyes. 
 
 "What's that to me?" exclaimed Wilson. 
 
 "Well, since you ask, I'm going to tell you. With 
 all your experience, Wilson, you ought to know the 
 best way to break up a White Slave gang is to find 
 the silent political partner with a pull behind the 
 house. And I found him." 
 
 Again Wilson tried to bluster. "Look here, Mac- 
 Auley, do you mean to insinuate " 
 
 "I don't insinuate, I declare," cried MacAuley, 
 "that you own a half interest in Kate Lockwood's 
 dive where Paul and his kind have ruined at least 
 a hundred girls in the last two years !" 
 
 "Why, you're a "
 
 THE LURE 287 
 
 "Don't say it," replied MacAuley. "Remember 
 there are ladies present." 
 
 Wilson gulped and with that gulp he swallowed 
 his last trace of defiance. 
 
 "You mean to say you'd insinuate a thing like 
 that to me?" he exclaimed in what was now only 
 an injured tone. 
 
 "I don't insinuate anything, I declare facts, and 
 I'm going to prove them, by God !" 
 
 "Like h 1 you are!" cried Wilson in a weak, 
 
 thin voice. "I suppose you think I haven't any in- 
 fluence down at Washington. Why, you cheap bum 
 detective, I'll make it cost you your job. I'll have 
 you fired inside of twenty- four hours!" 
 
 "I wish you would," said Bob. 
 
 "Well, don't you worry about that, I'll do it all 
 right." 
 
 "Then you'll be doing me a real favor. It is the 
 only possible way I can get a vacation." 
 
 Turning from Wilson for the moment MacAuley 
 glared at Paul.
 
 288 THE LURE 
 
 "Come over here, you !" he exclaimed to the cow- 
 ering figure by the table. 
 
 Lefarge obeyed him instantly. 
 
 "But wait a minute," cried Wilson suddenly. 
 "How do we know that you are MacAuley after all ? 
 Let me see your badge if you've got one." 
 
 Again MacAuley smiled derisively. "You're great 
 on making me show up, aren't you ?" he exclaimed. 
 
 He handed his official badge to Wilson. 
 
 "I borrowed the other one from the gas com- 
 pany," he said. "But this one really belongs to me. 
 For six months I've been wanting to show it to 
 you." 
 
 There wasn't an ounce of fight left in Wilson by 
 this time. His voice was almost cringing as he 
 said : "This is no place for us to talk about such a 
 serious matter, Mr. MacAuley. Come on down to 
 my clubhouse for a few minutes. The boy'll come 
 along without any trouble. If you'll just come down 
 there as a favor to me I'll convince you mighty 
 quick that some one's been lying about me to you." 
 
 "Prove that to the jury," said MacAuley, and
 
 PAUL TURNED ON HIM VENOMOUSLY. "MY PALS *LL GET YOU FOR THIS!" p. 289
 
 THE LURE 289 
 
 turning quickly to Lefarge, who now stood trem- 
 bling beside him, he whisked out a pair of hand- 
 cuffs from his pocket and snapped one on Paul's 
 wrist. 
 
 Then, seizing Paul by the arm, he held one of his 
 hands up that both the girls and Wilson might see. 
 
 "Soft and white, isn't it?" he sneered. "A fine 
 hand for playing the piano and beating up young 
 girls." 
 
 Paul turned on him venomously. "My pals'll get 
 you for this !" 
 
 Ignoring this threat entirely, MacAuley turned to 
 Wilson with a stern "Come on !" 
 
 Wilson went red, then white again. 
 
 "You're not going to put any handcuffs on me ?" 
 
 "I make it a rule never to play favorites," said 
 Bob. 
 
 "By God ! you shan't do it," cried Wilson, trying 
 vainly to snatch his hand away from MacAuley's 
 grasp. 
 
 "Which is it to be," said MacAuley ominously, 
 "the station house or the hospital ?"
 
 290 THE LURE 
 
 "Ah, but there's no need of that, man!" pleaded 
 Wilson. "I won't try to run. Why, I'm a man of 
 standing in this town, you know that. I've got a 
 family. God knows, MacAuley, it won't do you any 
 good to disgrace them. Think of my daughters !" 
 
 "Ah, you've hit it at last, Wilson!" cried Bob 
 furiously. "That's just what I am thinking of 
 other men's daughters. Come on, Jim!" he ex- 
 claimed, as he snapped the other handcuff on Wil- 
 son's wrist and handed the two prisoners over to the 
 detectives at the door, "it's pay day !"
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 At half -past six the next morning MacAuley 
 knocked at the door of the doctor's room. He 
 looked haggard and weary, but for all that there was 
 a gleam of enthusiasm in his eyes which showed that 
 for him at all events the night's work had not been 
 without its triumphant results. In his arms as he 
 entered the doctor's room he carried a flower pot 
 containing a red geranium as near a replica as possi- 
 ble of the one which he had broken on Sylvia's win- 
 dow sill the day before. 
 
 "Here I am again, doctor, you see!" exclaimed 
 MacAuley jokingly. "Hope I didn't wake you up. 
 I haven't been to bed at all yet, but then I'm used to 
 that. However, I wanted to consult you about one 
 thing. Do you think it's too early for me to call up- 
 stairs?" 
 
 "Vy no," said the doctor. "De people of the 
 
 tenements are early risers. Sylvia's been up for 
 
 about a half an hour, getting her mother's breakfast. 
 
 I was up there only a moment ago. De oder little 
 
 291
 
 292 THE LURE 
 
 girl seems to be all quiet and content now. She's 
 still fast asleep on the sofa in Mrs. Jones' room." 
 
 "Then I'd better go up right away," said Bob. 
 "This will give me a chance to have a few moments 
 alone with Sylvia. It'll be the only chance I'll have 
 to-day. I've got such a load of things to do." 
 
 "Go ahead, my boy. Von thing sure, she'll be 
 mighty glad to see you. But tell me vat happened 
 last night? How did you and your White Slaver 
 friends get on ? Dot vas just like my luck. It took me 
 so long to find that headache powder for the little 
 girl I missed all the excitement down here. Vhile I 
 vas upstairs my rooms they become historical and 
 I ain't here to see it." 
 
 "Well, you can read all about it in to-day's 
 papers," laughed MacAuley. "Seems to me there's 
 nothing at all in any of them to-day, except the case 
 of the little Springfield girl and the arrest of Wilson. 
 His trial is going to make this town hum." 
 
 "Vat about the voman dat Mrs. Lockwood? 
 Did you catch her yet ?" 
 
 "No, not yet ; perhaps we won't. I'm satisfied to
 
 THE LURE 293 
 
 have Wilson and Lefarge and that black devil Car- 
 rie. The woman, bad as she is, isn't necessary to 
 prove our case against those two. They're bound to 
 go up the river for sure. You see, if I arrested her 
 just now it's just possible that Sylvia might have to 
 be dragged in as a witness against her, and, God 
 knows, I wouldn't have that happen for the world. 
 Fortunately, the Charlotte Baker case is so strong 
 in itself that this little Nell girl won't have to be 
 dragged in either. I shall send her home to her 
 people to-night or to-morrow, as soon as she's 
 rested and well enough to travel. There's no use 
 or necessity of bringing her into the case." 
 
 "Dot's good," said the doctor. "I'm glad of that." 
 "Before I forget it, there's another thing, doctor. 
 I've just been talking with a friend of mine, .a doc- 
 tor who's at the head of a private hospital uptown. 
 I've engaged a private room there for Sylvia's 
 mother. They'll send foi her to-morrow. If any 
 surgeon in town can pull the old lady through, my 
 friend can. There's something else I want to talk
 
 294 THE LURE 
 
 to you about, doctor," Bob went on laughingly, "but 
 I'll have to speak to Sylvia about it first, you know." 
 
 "Den go ahead, young man, don't lose one minute. 
 Dose good peoples upstairs need all the good tidings 
 they can get." 
 
 Sylvia was alone in the room when he entered. 
 He walked directly to the window sill and laid the 
 flower pot on the ledge. 
 
 "I've kept my promise, you see, Miss Sylvia," he 
 laughed. "Here's the geranium." 
 
 "Thank you! thank you!" exclaimed Sylvia hur- 
 riedly. "Don't let's talk about the flower now. Tell 
 me what happened last night when you left. I've 
 scarcely been able to sleep a wink thinking of all 
 you must be going through." 
 
 "Well, as long as you were thinking about me, 
 Miss Sylvia, I'll forgive you for that," he exclaimed 
 with a droll smile. "But nothing of any importance 
 happened. Anyway, don't let's talk about it now 
 when there are so many much more important things 
 you and I must discuss. I can only stay a few mo- 
 ments, though. I've got to be uptown at my rooms
 
 THE LURE 295 
 
 at eight o'clock to install my new housekeeper. You 
 see, I've been a bachelor so long that my rooms have 
 grown very bare and unhome-like. I want a 
 woman's hands to give them a homelike touch before 
 I bring any of my new friends there, so I engaged a 
 housekeeper last night. She's a dear, sweet, moth- 
 erly little creature. I think you'll like her very much 
 when you meet, and I'm sure that your mother and 
 she will become real friends." 
 
 Sylvia looked up at him a little bewildered. "A 
 housekeeper? And you engaged her last night? 
 What a busy man you are. When on earth did you 
 get time yesterday to engage a housekeeper, I should 
 like to know?" 
 
 "As a matter of fact, her engagement was an ac- 
 cident. It came in, however, as part of the day's 
 work. It came about rather curiously, though, so 
 I'm going to tell you, if you don't mind. It just goes 
 to show you what a funny thing human nature is at 
 either its best or worst." 
 
 "Do tell me about it do tell me about it," said 
 Sylvia.
 
 296 THE LURE 
 
 "Well," says he, "when I left here for the first 
 time last night, after finding you again in such an 
 unexpected way, I was all up in the air with delight, 
 as you can imagine. I took a taxi and drove directly 
 to the Lock wood employment agency. I joined one 
 of my assistants on the corner and was going to 
 watch the house, hoping to pick up Lefarge's trail 
 there, when all of a sudden after we had been stand- 
 ing on the corner about a quarter of an hour the 
 sweetest faced little old lady you ever saw came out 
 of the agency door. A taxi was waiting, and Carrie, 
 the colored girl, came down the steps with her and 
 helped her into it. Then I heard Carrie speak to the 
 driver and tell him to drive to a well-known wom- 
 an's hotel. It struck me as such a curious thing for 
 such an old lady of her type to be coming out of 
 Lockwood's at such an hour that I called a taxi and 
 followed her to the hotel. I saw her sign the regis- 
 ter and take the elevator up to her room. Her name 
 on the register was Miss Cecelia Bliss of Albany. I 
 thought perhaps I might be able to squeeze some in- 
 formation out of her about what had been going on
 
 THE LURE 297 
 
 at the agency, so I sent up my name and asked for 
 an interview. Word came back that there must be 
 some mistake, that Miss Bliss didn't know any one 
 of my name. In fact, didn't know any one in New 
 York. When I got that message, I decided that I 
 must see her. So then I sent word to her again that 
 I had a message for her from Mrs. Lockwood. She 
 came down to the reception room. I wish you could 
 have seen her. Her sweet old, wrinkled face was 
 fairly beaming with delight. 
 
 " 'Oh, you've come about that position for me, 
 haven't you?' she exclaimed, before I could get a 
 word out of my mouth or attempt to make any ex- 
 cuse. 'God bless that dear Mrs. Lockwood!' she 
 went on. 'She promised to get me a good position, 
 but I never dreamed she'd fulfill her promise so 
 soon. Why, it isn't half an hour since I left her,' 
 and then bit by bit she went on, Sylvia, and told me 
 her whole story. Her two young nephews, with 
 whom she'd always lived in Albany, sailed yesterday 
 to meet their father somewhere in the Orient. They 
 had neglected to leave her any money. The poor,
 
 298 THE LURE 
 
 little woman was stone broke, had less than a dollar 
 and a half in her purse when she happened to see 
 the agency sign and went in there to ask for em- 
 ployment. Then she went on and told me how kind 
 Mrs. Lockwood had been to her, how, when she 
 found out she had no money and no place to go, she 
 made her take a ten-dollar bill and engaged a room 
 at the hotel for her. Can you beat that, Sylvia, 
 coming from that woman?" 
 
 "Well, what did you do then?" exclaimed Sylvia, 
 intensely interested. 
 
 "What could I do ? I couldn't break the poor old 
 lady's heart, so I told her yes, I had come to see her 
 about a position." 
 
 "Yes ? And then ?" queried Sylvia. 
 
 "Then I told her that I was a bachelor with an 
 apartment which had all gone to rack and ruin. I 
 wanted some one to make it shipshape to put my 
 house in order, as it were because now, remem- 
 ber, this is just what I told her, Sylvia I was going 
 to be married inside of the next three days and when 
 I bring my wife to my apartments I want her to feel
 
 THE LURE 299 
 
 that she's really coming to a home. So, you see, it's 
 all settled, Sylvia," he went on hurriedly without giv- 
 ing her a chance to interject a word. "Miss Bliss has 
 taken charge of everything this morning. To-mor- 
 row at ten o'clock the clergyman will be here to 
 marry us. Arranged for him to come at that early 
 hour purposely, because at noon your mother goes 
 to the private hospital of a friend of mine for that 
 operation, and I knew that it would be a comfort 
 and solace to her for her to know when she went 
 there that no matter what happened you had a home 
 and husband; in other words, dear, that you were 
 safe." 
 
 Tears were running down Sylvia's cheeks as she 
 started to answer him, but again he interrupted her : 
 "Not a word now not a word, Sylvia. It's all set- 
 tled it's all fixed. There's just one little thing, one 
 little favor more I want to ask you." 
 
 "What is it?" said Sylvia, with a break in her 
 voice. 
 
 He turned toward the mantelpiece and pointed to 
 a cabinet-sized photograph of Sylvia. "It's that
 
 300 THE LURE 
 
 photograph of you," he said tenderly. "It's just the 
 size to fit my vacant frame. I measured it yesterday 
 when you weren't looking. I don't think I ever told 
 you about that frame, did I, Sylvia ? The buying of 
 it was the one sentimental thing I was ever guilty of 
 in my life. I bought it the day that I saw you first, 
 and I made a solemn vow to it then, as I placed it on 
 my mantelpiece, that it should never hold any pic- 
 ture except the photograph of Sylvia, my wife. So 
 you won't mind giving it to me, will you?" 
 
 For answer she took the photo from the mantel- 
 piece and placed it in his outstretched hand. She 
 had no time to speak a word to him, for at that mo- 
 ment from the bedroom came her mother's voice, 
 crying: "Sylvia! Sylvia! I hear a man's voice. 
 Whom are you talking to ?" 
 
 For answer Sylvia threw her arms about Bob's 
 neck and kissed him, then leading him into the bed- 
 room to her mother's side she exclaimed: "Don't 
 worry, mother dear, it's Mr. MacAuley, your new 
 son." 
 
 THE END
 
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