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"There is a young man who is taking notes for the biggest paper in New York. He has verified every detail. They'll have extras on the streets in fifteen minutes, for this is the biggest story in years. You are cornered at last, Trubus. Send in the rest of those people arrested in that house owned by Trubus."
The whiskers were so resolutely black, that Burke felt sure they must have been dyed, for Trubus' plump hands, with their wrinkles and yellow blotches, evidenced that the philanthropist must have passed the three-score milestone of time.
Burke could not help but wonder at the tense interest in his presence, but dismissed the thought as he entered the room, and beheld the president of the Purity League. William Trubus was seated at a broad mahogany desk, while before him was spread a large, old-fashioned family Bible.
The girl looked at him saucily, and the offending visitor shrugged his shoulders as he quietly started for the door. "Tut, tut, my dear! I shall reprimand the girl." "You shall discharge her at once!" insisted Mrs. Trubus, her eyes flashing. "She will disgrace the office and the great cause." Trubus was in a quandary. He looked about him.
Trubus; I shall follow your instructions and will go to the delivery room myself to see that they are sent out immediately." "Good afternoon, my dear," and Mrs. Trubus and her happy daughter left the store. Mary was as good as her word, and she made sure that the several parcels were on their way to Riverside Drive before she returned to the front of the store.
Trubus raised his eyebrows, and slowly turned in his chair. His eyes opened wide with surprise as he peered over the gold rims at the newcomer. "Well, well, well! So you were, so you were." He put down his glass reluctantly. "You must pardon me, but I always spend my noon hour gaining inspiration from the great Source of all inspiration. What can I do for you?
For reasons best known to himself, the manager was late in arriving that morning. The minutes seemed century-long to Mary as she hoped against hope. A surprisingly early customer was Mrs. Trubus, who came hurrying in from her big automobile. She went to Mary's counter and observed the girl's demeanor. "Dear, was it your sister that I read about in the paper this morning?" she inquired.
I never saw him before that, to my recollection." "What do you know about this man, Officer 4434?" asked the captain. Clemm fumbled with his handcuffs, looking down in a sheepish way to avoid the malevolent looks of Trubus. "He is known as John Clemm, although we have found a police record of him under a dozen different aliases.
One of the girls ran to her, but Mrs. Trubus, standing close by, placed a motherly arm about her waist. "There, you poor dear. Don't you despair. This is a large world, and there are more places for an honest, clever girl to work in than a candy store run by a popinjay! You get your hat and get right into my car, and I will take you down to my husband's office, and see what we can do there.
William Trubus!" called the philanthropist's wife angrily. Her husband heard from within, and he opened the door with a thoroughly startled look. "My dear wife!" he began, purring and somewhat uncertain as to the cause of the trouble. Mary, nervous as she was, observed a curious interchange of glances between the two men.
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