For Gold or Soul? Part 9

"Well, what did she say?" asked a voice at his elbow.

A well-dressed man of middle age had walked slowly across the street and stood waiting impatiently for Hardy's answer.

The detective drew a long breath and shrugged his shoulders a little.

"Oh, she's a high flyer," he answered, cautiously. "It will take time to clip her wings and tame her, captain, but don't you worry a bit. I'll earn your fifty dollars."

"As you have earned several other fifties," said the "captain," smiling.

"Oh, well, you are in the right place for just such work. It's dead easy for you, Hardy. Why, those girls would all of them jump at the chance of getting out from behind those counters, but the deuce of it is that it's only the new ones who are pretty."

"Well, you've picked out the prettiest now, all right," laughed Hardy.

"But I expect I shall have to scare her a little. She's not only proud as Lucifer, but she's chock full of religion. Says G.o.d will protect her and all that sort of thing."

The well-dressed "captain" threw back his head and roared.

"G.o.d will trouble Himself a lot about her, I'm thinking," he said, chuckling. "He is so given to looking after those half-starved creatures! Why, the Devil is the shop girls' best friend, if they only knew it."

"He stands by us pretty well, too, eh! captain?" said Hardy. "But I must be getting home, as I live way over in Jersey. I'll report to-morrow night at your place downtown. She'll be less religious by that time if she sees that G.o.d has gone back on her, I guess."

"You mean that you will press the charge against her and have them send her to jail? That's going pretty far, Hardy; but I'll leave it to your judgment."

"Oh, pshaw! She'll be tractable before it comes to that pa.s.s, captain.

I've seen girls before. I know how to handle 'em."

The two men parted, Hardy going to his home in Jersey, while the man whom he had called "captain" went in the direction of Fifth avenue.

When he arrived at his magnificent bachelor apartments he let himself in with a latch-key. His colored valet was busy in one of the rooms packing his master's clothing into two traveling bags.

"Well, Dave," said the captain, gayly, "we will have a fine trip South, I fancy; but don't hurry with that packing. Let it go for a day. I've decided not to start as soon as I intended."

"All right, sah; I'll drop it right quick, sah," said the negro. "Yere's a letter, sah, dat was brung 'bout an hour ago. I dun tole de boy dat you would anser it at your leesyur, sah."

Captain Paul Deering laughed at his servant's language. Dave always used big words and the most extravagant manners when he came in contact with other people's servants.

"By Jove!" exclaimed the captain, as he opened the letter. "It's from my lawyer, Dave, telling me that my sister has been found. She is living here in the city, and is a widow with one daughter."

"Yo' doan' say so, sah!"

Dave was standing with his mouth wide open to indicate his interest in the news. He had been with the captain so long that he was very deep in his confidences.

"Yes, she's here in town, and has been for years, and to think I've been here, too, and didn't know it! You see, Dave, I ran away from home when she was only a young girl. When the home was broken up I lost track of her completely. Now there's a snug little fortune waiting for her that she should have had five years ago, but perhaps it's just as well it's been acc.u.mulating interest all the time."

"An' yourn has bin a losin' interes'," replied the negro, grinning. "I neber see money slip troo' a man's fingers so fas' as it do troo' yourn, capting, dat's a fac'."

"Oh, I get the worth of it as I go along, Dave," laughed the captain, "but I suppose I've got to go out again now and call on my new-found sister."

He glanced at the address which the lawyer had given him.

"Pshaw! That's too bad," he said, impatiently. "If I had only known this two hours sooner! Why, I've just come from that very locality, and it's way up in Harlem."

As he reached for his hat there was a sharp ring at his door-bell.

"Dat's Dr. Graham, sah; I knows dat ring ob his," said the valet quickly. "Dat mean, sah, you doan' call on no sister dis ebenin'."

CHAPTER IX.

THE PLEA OF MISS JENNINGS.

When Faith Marvin entered her mother's four-room flat on the top floor of a dingy brick building she was almost out of breath from indignation and rapid walking.

She tried to calm herself a little before her mother saw her, for Mrs.

Marvin was on the verge of nervous prostration.

When Faith looked into the little parlor she saw what she dreaded most, her mother lying on the sofa suffering from a terrible headache.

"I must say absolutely nothing," whispered Faith to herself; "but what if that fellow should follow me home! Oh, it would be terrible!

Terrible! I am sure it would kill her!"

She washed her face and hands and smoothed her hair, then went quietly into the parlor and kissed her mother.

"Oh, Faith," cried the sick woman, sharply.

"How did you get along, dear? Were they kind to you in that dreadful store, or will they kill my daughter, as they did my husband?"

"Hush, mother; don't say anything like that, there's a dear," said Faith quickly. "Don't let your mind dwell so steadily on unpleasant things, and just as soon as your head is better I'll tell you all about it."

"Tell me now, Faith, I insist," cried her mother, irritably. "I must know the truth at once. Just think, dear, I have lain here all day worrying about you, my child! It has been the hardest day of your life!

I feel it and I can see it."

She was gazing at Faith with a keen, penetrating glance. It would have been cruel to have kept her in ignorance any longer.

"Well, then, lie down, dear, and I'll begin at the beginning," said Faith gently, "and you must promise not to ask questions until I have finished."

She laid her mother back on the sofa and began her tale, but she took care to touch upon some things very lightly and leave others out of her narration altogether.

When she had finished her mother still lay silent for a few minutes, then she suddenly sat up straight and stared at her daughter.

"It is a thousand times worse than I thought," she said slowly.

"Although your father told me a great deal about the evils that exist in business places. Why, those men are criminals and nothing less! They are destroying women's souls as well as starving their bodies, and all to swell their own bank accounts and ride in carriages. Oh, it is shameful!

And to think that nothing can be done to stop it."

"But something must be done! Something shall be done!" cried Faith stoutly. "There is one power alone that can conquer all evil. We must invoke that power upon this dreadful curse, and G.o.d has promised that the prayer of faith shall not go unanswered."

"Oh, child, can you not see how foolish all that is?" asked her mother irritably. "As if prayer was needed for what G.o.d can see for Himself! If He wished things different He could easily change them. I have no faith in His goodness, His love or His mercy."