The Argosy for May — page 194: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A HAND-BAG TOO MANY. Miss Hutchison felt the color rushing into her cheeks as she turned away her timid glance. Who was that man? He frightened her. Her eyes dropped again to the shopping-case in her lap. Did he know what was in it? she wondered nervously. She must get rid of the bag. The danger of its contents being discovered and found in her possession was too great. Forgotten was her previous distress at her failure to recover her own chatelaine in the new anxiety to be rid of the other. But how was she to do away with the bag of stolen goods? The burden of the problem was too much for her to bear unaided. If Marion would only come, she thought worriedly, they two could devise some means out of the difficulty. “ Say,” broke in the voice of the sales- woman, watching her troubled face from behind the counter, “I’m awful sorry about that bag; honestly I am! I don’t know but what it does belong to you, and—well—oh, gee! I wisht I knew what to do about it!” Miss Hutchison looked up at the girl, her lip trembling at the sympathy in her voice. The young woman had a kind face; perhaps she could help her. If she told her what was in the bag she held, pos- sibly the girl could advise her how best to dispose of it. | Suddenly she determined to throw herself upon the shopwoman’s mercies. She brought the leather case up from her lap and laid it down on the counter. Her fingers twisted .tremblingly at the clasp, the bag slipped half-open—and a hand gripped her lightly on the shoul- der. The tiny little lady turned with a nerv- ous little cry—to look up into the heavily - mustached face of the man in the brown derby. | ‘Don’t open that bag, lady!” the man said in a low, grim voice; “not unless you want to get yourself pinched before the whole store!” Miss Hutchison stared wildly into his lowered face. His first words confirmed her suspicions as to the consequences of the discovery of the shoplifter’s bag in her possession. This man, then, knew what was in it. 381 ‘“T — [| don’t understand you!” she said weakly. “‘ Who—who are you?” “Tm ‘the store-detective — see?” the man explained in a hoarse whisper. “ I’m onto what you got in that grip, see? Now, you want to keep quiet and not make no fuss, or you'll have me snap the bracelets onto you right out here in front of everybody. See?”’ “ B-bracelets!” Miss Hutchison stut- tered between her chattering teeth. ‘“ W-what d-do you m-mean?” ‘“ Handcuffs — darbies — manacles is what I mean—see?” he whispered fierce- ly. come along with me without no trouble.” She was arrested! Oh, this was ter- rible, terrible. If Marion would only come! “ B-but,” she stammered, her eyes pleadingly searching the face of the man bending over her—‘‘ but you—you are making a mistake! I am not what you think me to be—truly. I can explain—” ‘No, you won’t!” the other interrupt- ed in a hard undertone. ‘“ There’s noth- in’ to explain. You’re caught ‘with the goods, and you'll have to come along with me.” ‘ W-where are you going to take me?” the little lady asked helplessly. “Tl take you to the manager’s office ; he’d like to see a slick shoplifter like you! We’ll search you there.” ‘Search me!’ Miss Hutchison rose tremblingly to her feet. ‘‘ Oh, you can’t —you won't do that! Please—” She broke off abruptly as her eyes, raised to the man’s face, swept down the aisle behind him. ‘Marion was advancing down the passageway. At last! Now she would not be alone in her trouble; her niece would help her. ‘“ Marion! ”’ she called to the approach- ing girl, ‘“ Mar—” Her voice died in her throat; the girl was not alone—with her was a man, a young man— It was the young man who had given her the bag of stolen goods! She turned swiftly to the fellow with the mustache standing beside her. “There!” she cried excitedly, point- ing to the advancing couple. “ There is the person whom you want—there is 99 your shoplifter! toward DVOOLK her ° “ Now, you want to keep quiet and ~ (C@