ter dollar, and the jabot, the check showing its cost and the date,
an unused trolley transfer, and the five dollars deposit which she was
to have paid on the purchase of gloves. The purse was of the hand-bag
variety, showy yet strong. It had been given to her as a reward and an
encouragement by Miss Bailey.

"An' when I got off the car at the 'loop'," she ended, "an' changed into
the Second Avenue cable, somebody in the crowd swiped me bag. I didn't
have even a transfer left, an' I had to walk here. I was pushing along
in the crowd lookin' at the signs 'Beware of pickpockets', an' thinkin'
it was good I had no pockets to pick, when it come over me that my bag
was gone. Just that easy! Me what ought to have known better. Say, you
know it would be just as good as suicide to go an' give that 'pipe' to
Grandpa. So I was thinking maybe you'd go round and sort of break the
news. He's got a lot of respect for you. An' honest, I ain't kiddin'.
He'd kill me for that five dollars." Then with sudden fury she ended,
"I'd kill _him_ for five cents."

Miss Bailey had never responded with less alacrity to a cry for help.
She had a genuine horror of the fierce, sore-eyed old vulture, with whom
she had had to struggle so determinedly for the privilege of teaching
Gertie. "Of course," she said at last, "he will have to know--" But Miss
Bailey was wrong, Mr. Armusheffsky never knew.

Room 18's door opened again to admit two policemen, one plain-clothes
man, who silently showed his badge to Miss Bailey, and three garrulous
and dishevelled neighbors of the Armusheffsky menage.

At sight of Gertie the neighbors grew vociferous, triumphant. The
policemen stationed themselves one on either side of Gertie, and the
plain-clothes man explained to Miss Bailey that old Armusheffsky had
been found murdered in his store, and that every man and woman for
blocks around was as ready as these incoherent samples to testify that
his granddaughter had often wished him dead, and had sometimes
threatened to kill him.

"So I guess," he ended pleasantly, "that 'The Tombs' will be this young
lady's address for a spell."

"But I've been in Brooklyn all day," protested Gertie when at last she
found speech.

"Can you prove it? Talked to anybody? Got any witnesses?"

Gertie recapitulated her story.

"Got the goods you bought? Got the check on them?"

Gertie explained the loss of the purse.

The plain-clothes man shook his head. "I'm sorry, Miss," said