The Big-Town Round-Up. William MacLeod Raine

an' yuh 're not the only wan that notices, Miss Nora. I'm a noticin' lad mesilf. An' it's the truth that I'd be glad enough to meet yuh some fine evenin' when I'm off duty. But about this strong-arm guy that tied up the janitor. The Swede says he went into wan av these houses. Now here's the wet color from his suit that ran over the steps. He musta come up here."

      "Before he ran down the street. Sure, an' that's just what he done.

       Yuh're a janious, officer."

      "Maybe he got into the house somehow."

      "Now, how could he do that? With all av us upstairs and down."

      "I don't say he did. But if I was to just take a look inside so as to report that I'd searched—"

      "Och! Yuh 'd be wastin' your time, officer."

      "Sure, I know that. But for the report—"

      The young woman in the riding costume chose this moment to open the door and saunter out.

      "Does the officer want something, Nora?" she asked innocently, switching the end of a crop against her riding-boots.

      "Yes, Miss. There's been a ruffian batin' up Swedes an' tyin' 'em to posts. This officer thinks he came here," explained Nora.

      "Does he want to look in the house?"

      "Yes, Miss."

      "Then let him come in." The young mistress took the responsibility on her own shoulders. She led the policeman into the hall. "I don't really see how he could have got in here without some of us seeing him, officer."

      "No, ma'am. I don't see how he could." The patrolman scratched his red head. "The janitor's a Swede, anyhow. He jist guessed it. I came to make sure av it. I'll be sorry for troubling yuh, Miss."

      The smile she gave him was warm and friendly. "Oh, that's all right.

       If you'd care to look around. … But there really is no use."

      "No." The forehead under the red thatch wrinkled in thought. "He said he seen him come in here or next door, an' he came up the steps. But nobody could have got in without some of youse seein' him. That's a lead pipe." The officer pushed any doubt that remained from his mind. "Only a muddle-headed Swede."

      "It was good of you to come. It makes us feel safer to have officers like you. If you'll give me your name I'll call up the precinct captain and tell him so."

      The man in uniform turned beet red. "McGuffey, Miss, and it's a pleasure to serve the likes of yuh," he said, pleased and embarrassed.

      He bowed himself out backward, skidded on the polished floor, and saved himself from going down by a frantic fling of arms and some fancy skating. When he recovered, his foot caught in a rug and wadded it to a knot.

      Nora giggled behind her fingers, but her mistress did not even smile at the awkwardness of Patrolman McGuffey.

      "Thank you so much," she said sweetly.