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Oh, that silken voice of Latimer's! "Mr. Moriway, I have absolutely no acquaintance with you. I never saw you till to-night. I can't imagine what you may have to say to me, that my secretary Miss Omar acts in that capacity may not hear." "I want to say," burst from Moriway, "that she looks the image of the boy Nat, who stole Mrs. Kingdon's diamonds, that the voice is exactly the same, that "
There was the garden table where I had sat reading and thinking he took me for Miss Omar. There was the bench where that beast Moriway sat sneering at me. The wheeled chair was gone. And it was so late everything looked asleep.
"You look so much like a boy I know that " "Do you really think so?" So awfully polite was Latimer to such a rat as Moriway. Why? Well, wait. "I can't agree with you. Do you know, I find Miss Omar very feminine. Of course, short hair " "Her hair is short, then!" "Typhoid," I murmured. "Too bad!" Moriway sneered. "Yes," I snapped. "I thought it was at the time.
But Evelyn in her red coat flew to her and took her in her arms as though she was a child. And like a child, Mrs. Kingdon sobbed and made excuses and begged to be forgiven. I looked at Moriway. It was all the pay I wanted particularly as I had those little diamonds. "You're just in time, Miss Kingdon," he said uneasily, "to make your mother happy by your presence at her wedding."
I thought for a minute it was at the idea of my Tom with one of those bare, round convict-heads on him, that look like fat skeleton faces. But it wasn't. It was Guess, Mag. Moriway. Both of us thought the same thing of each other for the first second that our eyes met. I could see that. He thought I was caught at last. And I thought he'd been sharp once too often.
I had seen her and Moriway go out together she all gay with finery, he carrying her bag. The lace curtains in 331 were blowing in the breeze. Cautiously I parted them and looked in. Everything was lovely. From where I lay I reached down and turned back the flap of the carpet. It was too easy. Those darling diamonds seemed just to leap up into my hand.
I put the ends of my fingers first in the little crack to make sure the little bag wouldn't drop to the floor, and then dived into my pocket and And there behind me, stealthily coming up the last turn of the stairs was Mr. George Moriway! Don't you hate a soft-walking man, Mag? That cute fellow was cuter than the old Major himself, and had followed me every inch of the way.
"You're real handy for a boy," she said, pleased. "Thank you, ma'am," I answered, pleased myself. Moriway was still watching me, of course, when I came out, but I ran downstairs, he following close, and when the Major got hold of me, I pulled my pockets inside out like a little man. Moriway was there at the time. I knew he wasn't convinced.
"No not to-morrow next week," sighed Mrs. Kingdon. "In fact, mother's changed her mind, Mr. Moriway. She thinks it ungenerous to accept such a sacrifice from a man who might be her son don't you, mother?" "Well, perhaps, George " She looked up from her daughter's shoulder she was crying all over that precious red coat of mine and her eyes lit on me. "Oh you wicked boy, you told a lie!" she gasped.
So down we went. And we met Mr. Moriway there. She'd telephoned him. The chambermaid was called, the housekeeper, the electrical engineer who'd been fixing bells that morning, and, as I said, a bell-boy named Nat, who told how he'd just come on duty when Mrs. Kingdon's bell rang, found her key and returned it to her, and was out of the room when she unlocked the box. That was all he knew.
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