Shorty McCabe Part 25

"Ask Mrs. Pell to step over here for a minute," says Sadie.

"What's doing?" says I, after the maid had left.

"I don't know," says Sadie. "I've got to give that jewelry back to the silly thing first; then we'll see."

So I handed the trinkets over, and it wasn't long before Mrs. Pell shows up. And say, the minute them two came together the mercury dropped about thirty degrees. Bein' behind the gla.s.s, I couldn't see; but I could hear, and that was enough.

"Here are your lost rings," says Sadie.

That's her, every tick of the watch. If she was tackled by a gyasticutus, she'd grab it by the horns.

"Oh!" says Mrs. Pell, gatherin' 'em in; "And how does it happen that you have them?"

"I'll tell you to-morrow," says Sadie.

"I'd rather not wait that long," says Mrs. Pell. "I prefer to know now."

"You ought to be satisfied to get them back," says Sadie.

"Perhaps," says Mrs. Pell; "but I'm just a little curious to know how they got away. My maid thinks the person who took them is still in the house."

"If I listened to all the things my maid says--" begins Sadie.

"There are maids and maids," says Mrs. Pell. "I can trust mine. She saw the man. More than that, Mrs. Dipworthy, she thinks he is hidden in your rooms."

"She must have seen my brother," says Sadie, "or Professor McCabe."

"It's quite possible," says Mrs. Pell; "but I shall insist on having the officers sent for."

"Why," says Sadie, "I might have taken them myself, just as a joke."

"Indeed!" says Mrs. Pell in a polite a.s.sault-and-battery tone. "Then perhaps you will confess as much to the other guests? Will you?"

And that was a facer for Sadie. She'd been keeping a stiff lip up to this, but she came to the scratch wabbly in her voice. "You wouldn't want me to do that, would you?" says she.

"In justice to my maid, I must," says Mrs. Pell.

"Well," says Sadie, "if you're mean enough for that, I suppose I--"

But, say, I couldn't stay under cover any longer, with her bein' pushed down the chute in that style. I was wise to her game all right. She meant to stand up and take all that was coming, even if it put her down and out, just to keep the hooks off that kid brother of hers. And me loafin' back of the ropes with me hands in me pockets! I'd been a welcher, wouldn't I?

"Did I hear my cue?" says I, steppin' out into the lime-light.

It was a tableau, for fair. Me and Mrs. Purdy Pell didn't do anything but swap looks for a minute or so. I can't say just how pleased she was, but I've had better views. She wasn't any dainty, lily-of-the-valley sort. She was a good deal of a cabbage rose, I should say, and carried more or less weight for age. She had an arm on her like a fore-quarter of beef. I don't wonder that Purdy Pell skipped to Europe and didn't put in any answer when the proceedin's came up.

"Are you the one?" says she.

"No, he isn't," says Sadie, speakin' up brisk.

"That's right," says I; "but it was me brought your finger sparks back to light, ma'am."

"And where did you find them?" says Mrs. Pell, turnin' the third-degree stare on me.

"That's a professional secret," says I, "which I can't give up just yet."

"Oh, you can't!" says she. "This is interesting."

And with that she begins to size us up, one after the other. Oh, she had us tied to the post, with nothin' to do but chuck the knives at us. For a gallery play, it was the punkiest I ever put up. Here I'd come splashin' in with both feet, like an amateur life-saver goin' to the rescue, and I hadn't done anything but raise the tide.

Sadie didn't have a word to say. She was just bitin' her lip, and gettin' white about the mouth from the mad in her. And say, maybe Her Stoutness didn't enjoy watchin' us squirm. She was gettin' even for every look one of her Willie boys had ever wasted on Sadie.

"We'll see if you two can be induced to confide your precious secret to the police," says she. "I mean to find out who stole my rings."

She hadn't more than sent in that shot before the closet door opens, and Buddy comes out, blinkin' like a bat.

"It's all over, ain't it?" says he.

"It is now," says I, and looks to see Mrs. Purdy Pell begin to holler: "Stop thief!"

But it was a case of being off the alley again. Say, I'm glad I wasn't backin' my guesses with good money that night, or I'd come home with my pockets wrong side out. Ever see a hundred-and-eighty-pound fairy with a double chin turn kittenish? That was her.

"Why, Mr. Sullivan!" she gurgles, throwin' him a Julia Marlowe goo-goo glance.

"h.e.l.lo, Dimples!" says Buddy. "Oh, they were your rings, were they? Then it's all right. I just borrowed 'em to scare sister into a cat fit and make her open up--just for a josh, you know."

"Why, why!" says Mrs. Pell, lookin' twisted, "is Mrs. Dipworthy your sister?"

"Sure," says Buddy. "But say, Dimples, you're the very girl I was wanting to see most. I've got another sure thing, good as a t.i.tle guarantee, for the Croton stakes, and if you'll back it for me we'll make a killing. How about it, eh?"

"Oh, you reckless boy," says Mrs. Pell, tapping him on the cheek. "But you did give me such a lovely tip at the Aqueduct, and--and we'll see.

Come, I want to talk to you," and she put out a wing for him to take.

As they drifted down towards the terrace Buddy turns and gives us the sa.s.sy wink over his shoulder.

"Looks like we'd lost our job, Sadie," says I.

"The silly old moss-agate!" says Sadie.

Then I goes down and reports to Pinckney, and puts in the rest of the evenin' bein' introduced as the gent that set the Baron Patchouli up in the shoe-string business. I felt like I'd opened up a jack-pot on a four-flush, but Pinckney and the rest seemed to be having a good time, so I stuck it out. In the morning Buddy goes along back to town with me.

"Say, professor," says he, pattin' a roll of twenties in his trousers pocket, "I wouldn't pa.s.s this along to anyone else, but if you want to connect with a hatful of easy coin, just plunge on Candy Boy."

"That's your beanery tip, is it?" says I. "Much obliged, Buddy, but I guess after the bookies get all you and Mrs. Pell are goin' to throw at 'em they won't need mine."

See? It was up to me to push home a great moral lesson, and I done my best. But what's the use? Next mornin' I takes up the paper and reads how Candy Boy wins, heads apart.