University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. tv caa. umaa. us 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 NEW and POPULAR BOOKS GODDESS OF THE DAWN By MARGARET DAVTES SULLIVAN. The spirit of youth and lightsome joy permeates this story of pure, exulting womanhood. 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CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of a bitter feud between cattle-men and sheep-herders. The heroine is a most unusual woman and her love-story reaches a culmination that is fittingly characteristic of the great free West. I2mo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition 50 cents. BRAND BLOTTERS A story of the Cattle Range. This story brings out the turbid life of the frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor with a charming love interest running through its 320 pages. izmo, Cloth, Illustrated. Jacket in Colors. Popular Edition 50 cents. MAVERICKS" A tale of the western frontier, where the "rustler," whose depredations are so keenly resented by the early settlers of the range, abounds. One of the sweetest love stories ever told. izmo, Cloth, Illustrated. Popular Edition, 50 cents. 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