Amarilly of Clothes-line Alley Part 22

Brother Washington's sympathies were at once enlisted, however, when he scented a romance, for John became more confidential in this than in any of his prior visitations, in his desire to propitiate. But his search was fruitless here as elsewhere, and he went away convinced that Brother Washington had not tampered with the pocket.

He went on to the house of the Reverend James Woodville, who had performed the marriage ceremony at the nuptials of Mrs. Jimmels, nee Hubbleston. In this instance also no pocket had been discovered in the garment, so John wended his discouraged way to the office of the Barlow Theatre.

Mr. Vedder was likewise surprised to learn that surplices possessed pockets.

The young rector's face brightened at the next name on his list--Pete Noyes. Of course a boy and a pocket would not long remain unacquainted.

Again he was doomed to disappointment. Pete's dismay when he learned that there had been an overlooked pocket was convincingly genuine.

"You see," he explained, "I wore it over my pants, of course, and I had the pockets in them, so I didn't look for no more."

Pete escorted the rector to the "Vawdyville," and by good fortune the clerical impersonator in the sketch was still on the board, though in a different act. He instantly and decidedly disclaimed all knowledge of a pocket.

"It's like that game," grinned Pete. "b.u.t.ton, b.u.t.ton, who's got the b.u.t.ton?"

"Yes," agreed John, with a sigh, "only in this case I fear I shall continue to be 'it.'"

The brakeman, when he came in from his run, was located and he joined in the blockade that was conspiring against John's future happiness.

The clothes-line thief was very sensitive on the subject, and felt greatly aggrieved that he should be accused of picking his own pocket, for he protested that he had "found" the garment. The fancied insinuation indeed was so strongly resented that John wondered if it might not be a proverbial case of "hit birds flutter."

Neither police nor court of justice had examined the pocket; nor had they been aware of the existence of one. The bishop could throw no light on the missing article, and this call ended the successless tour of investigation.

"It was truly a profitable investment for the Jenkins family," thought John, "but a sorry one for me."

Having now wended his weary and unavailing way into all the places listed, John made his final report to Colette who remained adamant in her resolve.

"Of course some of those people did find it," she maintained. "It stands to reason they must have done so, and it is up to you now to find out which one of them is the guilty person."

"How can I find that out, Colette?"

"How? Anyhow!" she replied, her mien betraying great triumph at her powers of logic.

"It must be found!" she a.s.serted with a distinct air of finality. "And until it is found--"

She stopped abruptly.

"Was it of value? No, I am not trying to find out what it was since you don't wish me to know, but if I knew its value, it might help me to decide who would be the most likely to have a motive for taking it. But my belief is that the article slipped from the pocket and is lost."

"It must be found then" she persisted obstinately.

John went home to ponder over his hopeless task. It remained for Amarilly with her optimistic spirit to cheer him.

"It'll turn up some place whar you never looked fer it and when you ain't thinkin' nuthin' about it," she a.s.serted believingly. "Lost things allers do."

Despite her philosophy she was greatly distressed over the disappearance of the mysterious article whose loss was keeping John so unhappy. She ransacked the house from the cellar to the Boarder's room, but found no trace of it.

"I wonder what it was," she mused.

"Mebby Miss King dreamt she put something in there, and when could she have done it anyhow? Mebby she give him a present, and he slipped it in there and fergot to take it out when he sent it to us. But then it would have come out in the wash. She don't seem to feel so bad as he does-- jest sorter stubborn about it."

The members of the household were put through the third degree, but each declared his innocence in the matter.

"'Twas most likely Iry took it," said Cory, who found the baby a convenient loophole for any accusations, "and most likely he hez swallered it."

Gus persisted in his oft-repeated statement, that there was nothing in the pocket when it was hung up during quarantine. This a.s.surance was conveyed to Colette by John, who hoped she might find solace in the thought that none of the renters could have had it, if this were true, but to his chagrin she found in his information an implied reflection on her veracity.

"Colette," he said whimsically, "only three persons connected with this affair have taken my remarks as personal, you, Brother Washington, and the thief."

With this remark John, despairing of his ability to fathom the mystery of the article or to follow the caprices of Colette, dropped the matter completely.

CHAPTER XVIII

At half past eight on the morning indicated, Amarilly's ring at the door of the studio was answered by Derry, whose face was covered with lather.

"h.e.l.lo, Amarilly!" he exclaimed heartily, extending his hand in genial comradeship. "I am glad to see you again. Been pretty well through the summer? Well, come on into the butler's pantry, and see what you can do in a coffee way while I finish shaving."

Amarilly had been receiving instruction in domestic science, including table service, at the Guild school. Colette, interested in the studio work, had provided some minute muslin ap.r.o.ns and a little patch of linen for the head covering of the young waitress, advising her that she must wear them while serving breakfast. So when Derry emerged from his dressing-room, a trimly equipped little maid stood proudly and anxiously awaiting him.

"Why, bless your heart, Amarilly! I feel really domesticated. You look as natty as a new penny, and the little white cap is great on your hair.

I see you have remembered how to fix it."

"Thank you, Mr. Derry, but please sit down while your coffee is hot."

"'Deed I will, and if it tastes as good as it smells, I shall raise your remuneration."

He p.r.o.nounced the coffee delicious, the grapefruit fixed to his liking, the toast crisp, and the eggs boiled just to the right consistency.

"And have you had breakfast, Amarilly?"

"Yes, Mr. Derry, at half past five."

"Jiminy! you should be ready for another. Now talk to me while I eat.

Tell me about your reverend friend who was so daffy on the subject of pockets. Has he located any yet?"

Amarilly looked troubled.

"Miss King said I wa'n't to talk to you while I was serving."

"Tell Miss King with Mr. Phillips' compliments that artists are not conventional, and that you and I are not in the relation to each other of master and maid. We are good friends, and quite _en famille_. You are such a fine cook, I think I shall have you serve me luncheon at one o'clock. Can you?" "Oh, yes; I should love to, Mr. Derry."

"I'll stock the larder, then. No; I can't be bothered, and I'd feel too much like a family man if I went about marketing. I'll give you _carte blanche_ to order what you will."

"What's that, Mr. Derry?"

"Good! We mustn't neglect your education. I am glad you asked me. You might have always supposed it a breakfast-food."