Bobs, a Girl Detective Part 5

The chair was placed close to the window that the invalid might look out at the street if she wished and watch the panorama pa.s.sing by.

Instantly Bobs knew the meaning of the lilac, or thought that she did, and, also, she at once decided that she wished to purchase a book, and she groped about in her memory trying to recall a t.i.tle for which she might inquire. A detective story, of course, that was what she wanted.

Since it was to be her chosen profession, she could not read too many of them.

The old man had disappeared by this time, but when Bobs entered the dingy shop the woman smiled up at her, and, to Roberta's surprise, she heard herself saying, "Oh, may I have just one little sniff of your lilac? I adore them, don't you?"

The woman in the chair nodded, and her reply was in broken English, which charmed her listener. She said that her "good man" bought her a "blossom by the flower shop" every day, though she did tell him he shouldn't, she knowing that to do it he had to go without himself, but it's the only "bit of brightness he can be giving me," my good man says.

Then she was silent, for from a little dark room at the back of the shop the old man, bent with years, shuffled forward. Looking at him, Roberta knew at once why he bought flowers and went without to do it, for there was infinite tenderness in the eyes that turned first of all to the occupant of the wheeled chair.

Then he inquired what the customer might wish. Roberta knew that she had a very small sum in her pocket and that as yet she had not obtained work, but buy something she surely must, so she asked for detective stories.

The old man led her to a musty, dusty shelf and there she selected several t.i.tles, paid the small sum asked and inquired if he would keep the parcel for her until she returned later in the day.

Then, with another bright word to the little old woman, the girl was gone, looking back at the corner to smile and nod, and the last thing that she saw was the spray of lilacs that symbolized unselfish love.

With no definite destination in mind, Roberta crossed Third Avenue and walked as briskly as the throngs would permit in the direction of Fourth.

In a mood, half amused, half serious, she began to soliloquize: "Now, Miss Roberta Vandergrift, it is high time that you were attempting to obtain employment in this great city. Suppose you go over to Fifth Avenue and apply for a position as sales girl in one of the fine stores where you used to spend money so lavishly?"

But, when the Fourth Avenue corner was reached, Roberta stopped in the middle of the street heedless of the seething traffic and stared at an upper window where she saw a sign that fascinated her:

BURNS FOURTH AVENUE BRANCH DETECTIVE AGENCY

The building was old and dingy, the stairway rickety and dark, but Roberta in the spirit of adventure climbed to the second floor without a thought of fear. A moment later she was obeying a message printed on a card that hung on the first door in the unlighted hall which bade her enter and be seated.

This she did and admitted herself into a small waiting room beyond which were the private offices, as the black letters on the frosted gla.s.s of a swinging door informed her. Roberta sat down feeling unreal, as though she were living in a story book. She could hear voices beyond the door; one was quiet and calm, the other high pitched and excited.

The latter was saying: "I tell you I don't want no regular detective that any crook could get wise to, I want someone so sort of stupid-looking that a thief would think she wouldn't get on to it if he lifted something right before her eyes."

It was harder for Roberta to hear the reply. However she believed that it was: "But, Mr. Queerwitz, we only have one woman in our employ just now, and she is engaged out of town. I----"

The speaker paused and looked up, for surely the door to his private office had opened just a bit. Nor was he mistaken, for Bobs, as usual, acting upon an impulse, stood there and was saying: "Pardon me for overhearing your conversation. I just couldn't help it. I came to apply for a position and I wondered if I would do." There was a twinkle in her eyes as she added: "I can look real stupid if need be."

The good-looking young man in the neat grey tweed, arose, and his expression was one of appreciative good humor.

"This is not exactly according to Hoyle," he remarked in his pleasant voice, "but perhaps under the circ.u.mstances it is excusable. May I know your name and former occupation?"

Roberta did a bit of quick mental gymnastics. She did not wish to give her real name. A Vandergrift in a Fourth Avenue detective agency! Even Gloria might not approve of that. Almost instantly and in a voice that carried conviction, at least to the older man, the girl said: "Dora Dolittle."

Were the gray-blue eyes of the younger man laughing? The girl could not tell, for his face was serious and he continued in a more business-like manner: "Miss Dolittle, I am James Jewett. May I introduce Mr. Queerwitz, who has a very fine shop on Fifth Avenue, where he sells antiques of great value? Although he has lost nothing as yet, he reports that neighboring shops have been visited, presumably by a woman, who departs with something of value, and he wishes to be prepared by having in his employ a clerk whose business it shall be to discover the possible thief.

Are you willing to undertake this bit of detective work? If, at the end of one week you have proved your ability in this line, I will take you on our staff, as we are often in need of a wide-awake young lady."

It was difficult for Roberta not to shout for joy.

"Thank you, Mr. Jewett," she replied as demurely as a gladly pounding heart would permit. "Shall I go with Mr. Queerwitz now?"

"Yes, and report to me each morning at eight o'clock."

The two departed, although it was quite evident that the merchant was not entirely pleased with the arrangement.

"Mr. Queerwitz! What a name!" Bobs was soliloquizing as she sat on the back seat of the big, comfortable limousine, and now and then glanced at her preoccupied companion. He was very rich, she decided, but not refined, and yet how strange that a man with unrefined tastes should wish to sell rarely beautiful things and antiques. Mr. Queerwitz was not communicative. In fact, he had tried to protest at the suddenly made arrangement and had declared to Mr. Jewett, in a brief moment when they were alone, that he shouldn't pay a cent of salary to that "upstart of a girl" unless she did something to really earn it. Mr. Jewett had agreed, saying that he would a.s.sume the responsibility; but of this Roberta knew nothing.

They were soon riding down Fifth Avenue in the throng of fine equipages with which she was most familiar, as often the handsome Vandergrift car had been one of the procession.

Bobs felt that she would have to pinch herself as she followed her portly employer into an exclusive art shop to be sure that she was that same Roberta Vandergrift. Then she reminded herself that she must entirely forget her own name if she were to be consistently Dora Dolittle.

How Bobs hoped that she would be successful on this, her first case, that she might be permanently engaged by that interesting looking young man who called himself James Jewett.

CHAPTER VIII.

A NEW FRIEND

At that early hour there were no customers in the shop, but Roberta saw three young women of widely varying ages who were dusting and putting things in order for the business of the day. Mr. Queerwitz went at once to a tall, spare woman of about fifty whose light, reddish hair suggested that the color had been applied from without.

"Miss Peerwinkle," he said rather abruptly, "here's the new clerk I was telling you about. You'd better show her the lay of things before it gets busy."

Miss Peerwinkle turned, and her washed-out blue eyes seemed to look down at Roberta from the great height where, at least, she believed that her position as head saleslady at the Queerwitz antique shop had placed her.

"Your name, Miss?" she inquired when the proprietor had departed toward a rear door labeled "No admittance."

Bobs had been so amused by all that she had seen that she hardly heard the inquiry, and when at last she did become conscious of it, for one wild moment she couldn't recall her new name, and so she actually hesitated. Luckily just then one of the girls called to Miss Peerwinkle to ask her about a tag, and in that brief moment Bobs remembered.

When the haughty "head lady" turned her coldly inquiring eyes again toward the new clerk, Roberta was able to calmly reply, "Dora Dolittle."

Miss Peerwinkle sniffed. Perhaps she was thinking it a poor name for an efficient clerk to possess. Bobs' sense of humor almost made her exclaim: "I ought to have chosen Dora Domuch." Then she laughingly a.s.sured herself that _that_ wouldn't have done at all, as she did not believe that there _was_ such a name and surely she _had_ heard of Dolittle.

Bobs' soliloquy was broken in upon by a strident voice calling: "Miss Dolittle, you're not paying any attention to what I am saying. Right here and now, let me tell you day-dreaming isn't permitted in this shop. I was telling you to go with Nell Wiggin to the cloakroom, and don't be gone more'n five minutes. Mr. Queerwitz don't pay salaries for prinking."

Bobs was desperately afraid that she wouldn't be able to get through the morning without laughing, and yet there was something tragic about the haughtiness of this poor Miss Peerwinkle.

Meekly she followed a thin, pale girl of perhaps twenty-three. The two who were left in the shop at once began to express their indignation because a new clerk had been brought in for them to train.

"If ever anybody looked the greenhorn, it's her," Miss Peerwinkle exclaimed disdainfully, and Miss Harriet Dingley agreed.

They said no more, for the new clerk, returning, said, "What am I to do first?" Unfortunately Roberta asked this of the one nearest, who happened to be Miss Harriet Dingley. That woman actually looked frightened as she said, nodding toward her companion, "Don't ask me. I'm not head lady. She is."

Again Bobs found it hard not to laugh, for Miss Peerwinkle perceptibly stiffened and her manner seemed to say, "You evidently aren't used to cla.s.s if you can't tell which folks are head and which aren't." But what she really said was: "Nell Wiggin will show you around, and do be careful you don't knock anything over. If you do, your salary's docked."

"I'll be very careful, Miss Peerwinkle," the new clerk said, but she was thinking, "Docked! My salary docked. I know what it is to dock a coal barge, for I have one in front of my home, but----"

"Oh, Miss Dolittle, please do watch where you go. You almost ran into that Venetian vase." There was real kindness and concern in the voice of the pale, very weary-looking young girl at her side, and in that moment Bobs knew that she was going to like her. "Poor little thing," Bobs thought. "She looks as though some unkind Fate had put out the light that ought to be shining in her heart. I wish that I might find a way to rekindle it."

Very patiently Miss Nell Wiggin explained the different departments in the antique shop. Suddenly she began to cough and sent a frightened glance toward the closed door that bore the sign "No Admittance," then stifled the sound in her handkerchief. Nothing was said, but Roberta understood.

The old furniture greatly interested Bobs. In her own home there were many beautiful antiques. Casually she inquired, "How does Mr. Queerwitz manage to obtain so much rare old furniture?"