"And where did you live before you came here?" The detective was

polite enough not to smile.

"Grossmutter," he said. And I saw Mr. Jamieson's eyebrows go up.

"German," he commented. "Well, young man, you don't seem to know much

about yourself."

"I've tried it all week," Mrs. Tate broke in. "The boy knows a word or

two of German, but he doesn't know where he lived, or anything about

himself."

Mr. Jamieson wrote something on a card and gave it to her.

"Mrs. Tate," he said, "I want you to do something. Here is some money

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for the telephone call. The instant the boy's mother appears here,

call up that number and ask for the person whose name is there. You

can run across to the drug-store on an errand and do it quietly. Just

say, 'The lady has come.'"

"'The lady has come,'" repeated Mrs. Tate. "Very well, sir, and I hope

it will be soon. The milk-bill alone is almost double what it was."

"How much is the child's board?" I asked.

"Three dollars a week, including his washing."

"Very well," I said. "Now, Mrs. Tate, I am going to pay last week's

board and a week in advance. If the mother comes, she is to know

nothing of this visit--absolutely not a word, and, in return for your

silence, you may use this money for--something for your own children."

Her tired, faded face lighted up, and I saw her glance at the little

Tates' small feet. Shoes, I divined--the feet of the genteel poor

being almost as expensive as their stomachs.

As we went back Mr. Jamieson made only one remark: I think he was

laboring under the weight of a great disappointment.

"Is King's a children's outfitting place?" he asked.

"Not especially. It is a general department store."

He was silent after that, but he went to the telephone as soon as we

got home, and called up King and Company, in the city.

After a time he got the general manager, and they talked for some time.

When Mr. Jamieson hung up the receiver he turned to me.

"The plot thickens," he said with his ready smile. "There are four

women named Wallace at King's none of them married, and none over

twenty. I think I shall go up to the city to-night. I want to go to

the Children's Hospital. But before I go, Miss Innes, I wish you would

be more frank with me than you have been yet. I want you to show me

the revolver you picked up in the tulip bed."

So he had known all along!

"It WAS a revolver, Mr. Jamieson," I admitted, cornered at last, "but I

can not show it to you. It is not in my possession."




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