Further Adventures of Quincy Adams Sawyer and Mason Corner Folks Part 54

"It ought to be--you had a chance to try yours on."

"I am a designing villain, Mary. While you were telling that story last night, you will remember that I walked about the room. One of your rings was on the mantelpiece and I tried it on."

When the clergyman handed Mrs. Sawyer the certificate, Quincy pa.s.sed him his fee.

"You've made a mistake, Mr. Sawyer. This is a hundred dollar bill."

"It ought to be a thousand. I'll send you a check for the difference to-morrow--for yourself, or your church, as you prefer."

As they descended the steps, the clergyman raised his hands.

"I wish you both long life and prosperity, and may Heaven's blessing fall upon you."

"Back to the 'Cawthorne,'" said Quincy, as he pressed a small roll of paper into the _chauffeur's_ hand--which roll of paper a friendly street light showed to be a five dollar bill.

"What will that horrid Mr. Ca.s.s say?"

"I'll fix him," replied Quincy. "Just await developments, patiently, my dear."

It was a quarter of eleven when they reached the hotel. Mr. Ca.s.s was at his desk, the light turned down in antic.i.p.ation of the closing hour.

"The certificate, darling," Quincy whispered.

"Please turn up the light, Mr. Ca.s.s, and read that."

Mr. Ca.s.s adjusted his _pince-nez_. Quincy was relentless. His turn had come.

"Is that in proper form, Mr. Ca.s.s? I know your rules are strict, and that your employer holds you to them tenaciously," and there was a strong accent on the last word.

"Would your reverend employer object to your harbouring a newly-married couple for one night? Show him your wedding ring, Mrs. Sawyer. We must satisfy his moral scruples."

Mr. Ca.s.s regarded them attentively. Then he said, slowly: "I antic.i.p.ated such a result, but wasn't it rather sudden?"

"We shall lose the elevator," cried Mary. "It shuts down at eleven."

"Shall we go on a tour?" asked Quincy the next morning.

"I can't leave the Harrison case. I must follow a clue this morning."

"Where shall we live, Mary? In grandfather's house on Beacon Street, or shall I build a new one? I'll make it a palace, if you say so."

"Well, I sha'n't say so--but let's live anywhere but here."

"We'll bid Mr. Ca.s.s a long farewell--but I admire his tenacity. He's a sort of moral bull-dog. I might use him in my business."

"Our business, Quincy."

"That's so--we are partners professionally, and lovers ever."

As she disengaged herself from his embrace, Mary exclaimed: "I've planned a model honeymoon for us, Quincy. You must go over the Harrison case with me. I'm sure _we_ can prove that he was an innocent man, and--"

"We'll find the real criminal, Mary, and bring him to justice."

"It will be a long and tedious investigation. I may have to visit every drug store in the city."

"That's easy. I'll buy you a touring car--I will act as _chauffeur_--"

"Why a touring car--why not a runabout just for two?"

"As you say, my dear. Your word is law--or the next thing to it. By the way, Mary, we must live on Beacon Street."

"Why, must?"

"Because Mr. Strout has bought a house on Commonwealth Avenue, and we must keep the line drawn sharp between the old families and the _nou-veaux riches!_"

THE END.