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Two Recalls
by
“Mr. Wahrfield, you are my prisoner. I hope, for the lady’s sake, you will take the matter sensibly. You know why I want you.’
“‘Who are you?’ says the old gent.
“‘O’Day,’ says I, ‘of the Columbia Detective Agency. And now, sir, let me give you a piece of good advice. You go back and take your medicine like a man. Hand ’em back the boodle; and maybe they’ll let you off light. Go back easy, and I’ll put in a word for you. I’ll give you five minutes to decide.” I pulled out my watch and waited.
“Then the young lady chipped in. She was one of the genuine high-steppers. You could tell by the way her clothes fit and the style she had that Fifth Avenue was made for her.
“‘Come inside,’ she says. ‘Don’t stand in the door and disturb the whole street with that suit of clothes. Now, what is it you want?’
“‘Three minutes gone,’ I said. ‘I’ll tell you again while the other two tick off.’
“‘You’ll admit being the president of the Republic, won’t you?’
“‘I am,’ says he.
‘Well, then,’ says I, ‘it ought to be plain to you. Wanted, in New York, J. Churchill Wahrfield, president of the Republic Insurance Company.
“‘Also the funds belonging to said company, now in that grip, in the unlawful possession of said J. Churchill Wahrfield.’
“‘Oh-h-h-h!’ says the young lady, as if she was thinking, ‘you want to take us back to New York?’
“‘To take Mr. Wahrfield. There’s no charge against you, miss. There’ll be no objection, of course, to your returning with your father.’
“Of a sudden the girl gave a tiny scream and grabbed the old boy around the neck. ‘Oh, father, father!’ she says, kind of contralto, ‘can this be true? Have you taken money that is not yours? Speak, father!’ It made you shiver to hear the tremolo stop she put on her voice.
“The old boy looked pretty bughouse when she first grappled him, but she went on, whispering in his ear and patting his offshoulder till he stood still, but sweating a little.
“She got him to one side and they talked together a minute, and then he put on some gold eyeglasses and walked up and handed me the grip.
“‘Mr. Detective,’ he says, talking a little broken, ‘I conclude to return with you. I have finished to discover that life on this desolate and displeased coast would be worse than to die, itself. I will go back and hurl myself upon the mercy of the Republic Company. Have you brought a sheep?’
“‘Sheep!’ says I; ‘I haven’t a single–‘
“‘Ship,’ cut in the young lady. ‘Don’t get funny. Father is of German birth, and doesn’t speak perfect English. How did you come up?’
“The girl was all broke up. She had a handkerchief to her face, and kept saying every little bit, ‘0h, father, father!’ She walked up to me and laid her lily-white hand on the clothes that had pained her at first. I smelt a million violets. She was a lulu. I told her I came in a private yacht.
“‘Mr. O’Day,’ she says. ‘Oh, take us away from this horrid country at once. Can you! Will you! Say you will.’
“‘I’ll try,’ I said, concealing the fact that I was dying to get them on salt water before they could change their mind.
“One thing they both kicked against was going through the town to the boat landing. Said they dreaded publicity, and now that they were going to return, they had a hope that the thing might yet be kept out of the papers. They swore they wouldn’t go unless I got them out to the yacht without any one knowing it, so I agreed to humor them.
“The sailors who rowed me ashore were playing billiards in a bar-room near the water, waiting for orders, and I proposed to have them take the boat down the beach half a mile or so, and take us up there. How to get them word was the question, for I couldn’t leave the grip with the prisoner, and I couldn’t take it with me, not knowing but what the monkeys might stick me up.