In Her Own Right Part 17

"When did you return, Geoffrey?" she inquired.

"From abroad?--I haven't gone," said Croyden. "The business still holds me."

She looked at him steadily a moment--Macloud was talking to Miss Brundage.

"How much longer will it hold you?" she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know--it's difficult of adjustment.--What brings you here, may I inquire?"

"We were in Washington and came over with the Westons to the Officers'

Hop to-night--given for the Secretary of something. He's one of the Cabinet. We return in the morning."

"Oh, I see," he answered; the relief in his voice would have missed a less acute ear. "Where are you going now?"

"To a tea at the Superintendent's, when the Westons join us. Come along!"

"I haven't acquired the Washington habit,--yet!" he laughed. "A man at a tea fight! Oh, no!"

"Then go to the dance with us--Colin! you'll go, won't you?"

"Sure!" said Macloud. "I'll follow your voice any place. Where shall it be?"

"To the Hop, to-night."

"We're not invited--if that cuts any figure."

"You'll go in our party. Ah! Mrs. Weston, I've presumed to ask Mr.

Macloud and Mr. Croyden to join our party to-night."

"The Admiral and I shall be delighted to have them," Mrs. Weston answered--"Will they also go with us to the tea? No? Well, then, to-night."

Macloud and Croyden accompanied them to the Academy gates, and then returned to the hotel.

In the narrow pa.s.sage between the news-desk and the office, they b.u.mped, inadvertently, into two men. There were mutual excuses, and the men went on.

An hour or so later, Macloud, having changed into his evening clothes, came into Croyden's room and found him down on his knees looking under the bureau, and swearing vigorously.

"Whee!" he said; "you _are_ a true pirate's heir! Old Parmenter, himself, couldn't do it better. What's the matter--lose something?"

"No, I didn't lose anything!" said Croyden sarcastically. "I'm saying my prayers."

"And incidentally searching for this, I suppose?" picking up a pearl stud from under the bed.

Croyden took it without a word.

"And when you've sufficiently recovered your equanimity," Macloud went on, "you might let me see the aforesaid Parmenter's letter. I want to cogitate over it."

"It's in my wallet!" grinding in the stud--"my coat's on the chair, yonder."

"I don't find it!" said Macloud, searching. "What pocket is it in?"

"The inside breast pocket!" exclaimed Croyden, ramming the last stud home. "Where would you think it is--in the small change pocket?"

"Then suppose you find it for me."

"I'll do it with----" He stopped. "Do you mean it isn't there?" he exclaimed.

"It isn't there!" said Macloud, holding up the coat.

Croyden's fingers flew to the breast pocket--empty! to the other pockets--no wallet! He seized his trousers; then his waistcoat--no wallet.

"My G.o.d! I've lost it!" he cried.

"Maybe you left it in Hampton?" said Macloud.

Croyden shook his head. "I had it when we left the Weston party--I felt it in my pocket, as I bent to tie Miss Cavendish's shoe."

"Then, it oughtn't to be difficult to find--it's lost between the Sampson Gate and the hotel. I'm going out to search, possibly in the fading light it has not been noticed. You telephone the office--and then join me, as quickly as you can get into your clothes."

He dashed out and down the stairs into the Exchange, pa.s.sing midway, with the barest nod, the Weston party, nor pausing to answer the question Miss Cavendish flung after him.

Once on the rear piazza, however, he went slowly down the broad white steps to the broad brick walk--the electric lights were on, and he noted, with keen regret, how bright they made it--and thence to the Sampson Gate. It was vain! He inquired of the guard stationed there, and that, too, proving unavailing, left directions for its return, if found.

"What a misfortune!" he muttered, as he renewed the search. "What a misfortune! If any one reads that letter, the jig is up for us....

Here! boys," to a crowd of noisy urchins, sitting on the coping along the street, "do you want to make a dollar?"

The enthusiasm of the response, not to mention its unanimity, threatened dire disaster to Macloud's toilet.

"Hold on!" he said. "Don't pull me apart. You all can have a chance for it. I've lost a wallet--a pocketbook--between the gate yonder and the hotel. A dollar to the boy who finds it."

With a shout, they set to work. A moment later Croyden came down the walk.

"I haven't got it," Macloud said, answering his look. "I've been over to the gate and back, and now I've put these gamins to work. They will find it, if it's to be found. Did you telephone the office?"

"Nothing doing there!" Croyden answered. "And what's more, there won't be anything doing here--we shall never find the letter, Macloud."

"That's my fear," Macloud admitted. "Somebody's already found it."

"Somebody's _stolen_ it," Croyden answered.

"What?"

"Precisely!--do you recall our being jostled by two men in the narrow corridor of the hotel? Well, then is when I lost my wallet. I am sure of it. I wasn't in a position to drop it from my pocket."

Macloud's hand sought his own breast pocket and stopped.

"I forgot to change, when I dressed. Maybe the other fellow made off with mine. I'll go and investigate--you keep an eye on the boys."