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Page 13
"I know this much!" roared the justice triumphantly, pointing
his spectacle-case at Miss Forbes. "I know her name ain't
Lizzie Borden and yours ain't Charley Ross."
Winthrop crossed to where Miss Forbes stood in a corner. She
still wore her veil, but through it, though her face was pale,
she smiled at him.
His own distress was undisguised.
"I can never forgive myself," he said.
"Nonsense!" replied Miss Forbes briskly. "You were perfectly
right. If we had sent for any one, it would have had to come
out. Now, we'll pay the fine in the morning and get home, and
no one will know anything of it excepting the family and Mr.
Peabody, and they'll understand. But if I ever lay hands on
my brother Sam!"--she clasped her fingers together helplessly.
"To think of his leaving you to spend the night in a cell----"
Winthrop interrupted her.
"I will get one of these men to send his wife or sister over
to stay with you," he said.
But Miss Forbes protested that she did not want a companion.
The constable would protect her, she said, and she would sit
up all night and read. She nodded at the periodicals on the
club table.
"This is the only chance I may ever have," she said, "to read
the `Police Gazette'!"
"You ready there?" called the constable.
"Good-night," said Winthrop.
Under the eyes of the grinning yokels, they shook hands.
"Good-night," said the girl.
"Where's your young man?" demanded the chief of police.
"My what?" inquired Winthrop.
"The young fellow that was with you when we held you up that
first time."
The constable, or the chief of police as he called himself, on
the principle that if there were only one policeman he must
necessarily be the chief, glanced hastily over the heads of
the crowd.
"Any of you holding that shoffer?" he called.
No one was holding the chauffeur.
The chauffeur had vanished.
The cell to which the constable led Winthrop was in a corner
of the cellar in which formerly coal had been stored. This
corner was now fenced off with boards, and a wooden door with
chain and padlock.
High in the wall, on a level with the ground, was the opening,
or window, through which the coal had been dumped. This
window now was barricaded with iron bars. Winthrop tested the
door by shaking it, and landed a heavy kick on one of the
hinges. It gave slightly, and emitted a feeble groan.
"What you tryin' to do?" demanded the constable. "That's town
property."
In the light of the constable's lantern, Winthrop surveyed his
cell with extreme dissatisfaction.
"I call this a cheap cell," he said.
"It's good enough for a cheap sport," returned the constable.
It was so overwhelming a retort that after the constable had
turned the key in the padlock, and taken himself and his
lantern to the floor above, Winthrop could hear him repeating
it to the volunteer firemen. They received it with delighted
howls.
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