The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1913-12-19

misdemeanor suggested itself to his
overweight brain. If he could only
steal something long enough to get
| arrested and sent to the island! But
| how? When, and above all where?
Broadway and Thirty-third street,
with its triangle of shops, answered
that question. 1t was very late. but
! he knew that a week before Christ
mas the shops would be open until
late. In the hope that his clothes
would contribute their help toward
arousing the suspicious of the store
detectives, he quickened his steps
| feverishly.
Inside the shop was warm, brilliant,
and damned with people. The incom-
ing and outgoing crowds jostled and
pushed Mulcahy as if he were rub
ber-washer between the hub of a
wheel and the linch-pin. .
! Presently he found himself at the
| notion counter, swept there by the
tide of customers. He wondered at
| the confidence of the storekeepers,
who took no trouble to protect their
wares set forth in little compartments
| Now he was backed into a little
case of tooth-brlshes. He felt his fin
gers close on something; mechanical
| ly he placed the thing in his pocket,
and then let himself drift along with
the crowd
| He had stolen something. Was it a
| cake of soap-perhaps; but with a
sickening sensation of impotence he
| remembered that one cake of soap
might not unlock the iron gate of
: the pen"
Mulcahy sighed. Now he was in
| the jewelry department. 1t yielded
vast possibilities as far as valaubles
were concerned, but these were care
| fully protected by. glass cases. True,
| there were some little trays of gold
| filed pins and bracelets scarcely
worth the effort of attainment. And
yet a handful of these trifles, fragrant
ly distracted, might attract the at
, tention of a detective.
Perhaps there were no detectives,
the act of reaching out a trembling
hand toward a delicate gold-filled
bangle. Then he paused, and in that
| moment of hesitation he felt twitch
at his coat, and, turning to face what
he felt must be authority either in
plain or blue clothes, he perceived at
his side very pretty little girl.
She was well dressed; and after the
first shock he felt on looking into
her clear blue eyes, Mulcahy saw a
beautiful locket and chain clasped
around her neck
In the mean time she has possessed
herself of his coat-pocket as if it were
his hand, and chung TO him as she
asked:
Have you seen my mama?' Her
voice was smothered by the crowd
I that pressed around her, and Mulcahy
himself heard.
No" he replied, his face close to
her pretty neck and ear. Shall we
go and look for herr" he added
touched by the sudden moisture that
blurred her eyes.
AS he spoke he carried her TO the
revolving-door Once out in the street.
she told him that she had been shop
ping with her mother and had got
I lost She lived, she said on Fiftieth
street, between Madison and Fifth
, avenue. She didn't know the number.
but there We're green trees at the
door, and it was white house
You mustn't think that this esca-
pade diverted Mulcahy from his origi-
al scheme. Only ne wanted to be of
use to the child, and he also saw q
much better way of obtaining his ar
rest and entrance to prison.
The locket and chain he knew
would serve his purpose, for he in
tended stealing them as soon as he
had found her home. There were
| four dollars and ninety cents left
/ from the pens" munificence. but he
| spent enough of it in ca dy-store
| to have provided for himself for Two
days
Over congenial glass of Sr cream
| soda the little girl save him Ter name
Violet Van Twiller The telephone
book did the rest in the matter of To-
| eating the Van Twiller mansion,
whittier Violet was escorted by her
| ragged friend