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Updated: June 19, 2025
Then Ridder went to a telephone, calling up Major Woodruff. "The major will be here in about ten minutes," announced Ridder, hanging up the receiver. "In the meantime we will do no talking in the presence of this suspect." It was just a little less than ten minutes later when Major Woodruff, accompanied by a corporal and two private soldiers, entered the room.
"Surely, you haven't found out anything as quickly as this?" asked the young lieutenant of engineers, looking up in surprise. "I've learned a few things," replied Jack, quietly. "Sit down, and let us hear what you've learned." Jack dropped to the chair, but Lieutenant Ridder, when he heard the news, was so excited that no chair could hold him. "Jove! and just our luck!" gasped the Army officer.
"This isn't bringing us, very fast, to your latest adventure," complained young Ridder. "It's your fault, then," continued Eph, placidly. "You asked a question, and I answered it." "Well, what about meeting the woman in a gray dress and veil?" "I met her," retorted Eph. "Could you see through the veil?" "No." "Then how do you know it was Millard?" "I don't know," Eph rejoined.
She sat in silent majesty, her hands just succeeding in clasping each other around her ample waist. Had she closed her eyes, she might have passed for a placid, amiable person, whose angles of disposition had also become curves. But Mrs. Beaver did not close her eyes. She opened them as widely as the geography of her face would permit, and coldly surveyed Joe Ridder. Mrs.
"I seen one up at the corner!" said Joe. "A new dress?" "Naw, a dressmaker. She's got out her sign." "What's her name?" asked Mrs. Ridder, keen with interest. "Mrs. R. Beaver, Modiste," repeated Joe from the sign that floated in letters of gold in his memory. "I knowed a Mrs. Beaver wunst, up on Eleventh Street a big, fat woman that got in a fuss with the preacher and smacked his jaws."
"I ain't ever gone with a feller that I didn't know his name before!" she confided before the curtain rose. "It's Joe," he said, "Joe Ridder, What's your front name?" "Miss Beaver," she said mischievously. "What do you think it is?" Joe could not guess. "Say," she went on, "I knew who you was all right even if I didn't know yer name. I seen you over to the hall when they had the boxin' match."
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