The San Francisco call., 1904-07-10

and what 1 deserve" she cried 81 am
perfectly sane and you know it, and
you are doing me no favor in trying to
create the contrary impression. l de-
mand an"
IAN interview with the manager"
interrupted. I'm sure Mrs Van
Wagenen can see the manager. Just
go with the lady, Mrs. Van Wagenen,
and I'll follow with the goods"
She did it meek as a lamb, talking
all the time, but never beginning at the
beginning-lucl1ily for me. So that 1
room to the next, with the lace up my
sleeve, out to the elevator and down
into the street.
Dye know what heaven must be,
Mag? A place where you always get
away with the swag, and where it's
always just the minute after you've
made killing.
Cocky? Well, I should say 1 was. 1
was drunk enough with success to
take big chances. And just while 1
was wishing for something really big
to tackle, it came along in the shape
of that big floorwalker!
He was without a hat, and his eyes
looked fifty ways at once. But you've
got to look f1fty-one If you want to
catch Nance Olden. 1 ran up the stairs
of the first f1at-house and rang the bell.
And as 1 sailed up in the elevator 1
saw the big floorwalker hurry past;
he'd lost the scent.
The boy let me off at the top floor,
and after the elevator had gone down
I walked up to the roof. 1t was fine
way up there, so still and high, with
the lights coming out down in the
town And 1 took out my pretty lace
collar and put it around my neck,
wishing I could keep it and wishing
that I had. at least, glass to see my
self in it just once, when my eye
caught the window of the next house.
1t would do for a mirror all right,
for the dark green shade was down.
But at sight of the shade blowing in
the wind 1 forgot all about the collar.
It's this way, Mag, when they press
you too car;and that little rat of a
lawyer had got me most to the wall 1
looked at the WINDOW, measuring the
little climb it would be for me to get
to 1.-THE house next door was just
one story higher than the one where
l was, so it's top story was on a level
with the roof where / stood. And 1
made up my mind to get what would
let Tom off easy, or break into Jail my
self.
And so / didn't care much what 1
might fall into through the window.
And perhaps because 1 didn't care, 1
slipped into a dark nall, and not a
thing stirred; not footstep creaked. 1
felt like the princess-Princess Nancy
Olden-come to wake the Sleeping
Beauty; some dude it'd be that would
have curly hair like Tom Dorgan's.
and would wear clothes like my friend
Latimer's, over in Brooklyn.
Can you see me there, standing on
one leg like a stork, ready to lie or to
fly at the first sound.
Well, the first sound didn't come.
Neither did the second. In fact, none
of 'em came unless / made em myself.
Softly as Molly goes when the baby's
just dropped off to sleep, l walked to-
ward an open door. 1t was parlor.
smelly with tobacco, and with lots of
papers and books around. And nary a
he -beauty-nor any other kind.
1 tried the door of the room next to
it. bedroom. But no Beauty.
Silly, Don't you tumble yet? 1t was
a bachelors apartment, and the Bach
elor Beauty was out, and Princess
Nancy had the place all to herself.
1 suppose 1 really ought to have left
my card-or he wouldn't know who
had walked him-but 1 hadn't intended
to go calling when 1 lert home. So 1
49, Of IL
souvenir-and anything else of his 1
could make use of.
There were shirts I'd like for Tom,
dandy colored ones, and suits with
checks in 'em and without. But 1
wanted something easy and small and
fat, made of crackly printed yellow
or green paper. with numbers on it.
How did l know he had anything like
that? Why, Mag. Mag Monahan, one
would think you belonged to the
Bishops set, you're so simple!
/ had to turn on the electric light
after a bit-it got so dark. And I
don't like light in other peoples houses
when they're not at home, and neither
am 1. But there was nothing in the
bedroom except some pearl studs. 1
got those and then went back to the
parlor.
The desk caught my eye. Oh, Mag,
it had the loviliest pictures on it-pic-
lures Of swell actresses and dancers.
1t was mahogany, with lots of little
drawers and two curvy side boxes. I
pulled open all the drawers. They
were full of papers all right, but they
were printed, cut, from newspapers,
and all about theaters.
You can't feed things like this,
Nance, to that shark of a lawyer" l
said to myself. pushing the box on the
side impatiently.
And then l giggled outright.
Why?
Just 'cause-I had pushed that side
box till 1t swung aside on hinges
didn't know about, and there, in little
secret nest, was a pile or those same
crisp, crinkly paper things I'd been
looking for.
110-160-210-260-
Three hundred and ten dollars, Mag
Monahan. Three hundred and ten, and