"But how about that blood?" he demanded.
"Yes," said Harry Squires with a sly grin, "it was positively identified
as yours, Miss Banks."
"Well, it's the first time I was ever fooled," confessed Anderson
glibly. "I'll have to admit it. The blood really belonged to 'Rast
Little. Boys, the seegars are on me."
"No, they're on me," exclaimed Tom Reddon, producing a box of Perfectos.
"But, Miss Banks, you are wanted in Chicago," insisted Anderson. Reddon
interrupted him.
"Right you are, my dear Sherlock, and I'm going to take her there as
soon as I can. It's what I came East for."
"Ain't--I mean, wasn't you Miss Lovering?" muttered Anderson Crow.
"Good heavens, no!" cried Miss Banks. "Who is she--a shoplifter?"
"I'll tell you the story, Mr. Crow, if you'll come with me," said Mr.
Farnsworth, stepping forward with a wink.
In the library he told the Tinkletown posse that Tom Reddon had met Miss
Banks while she was at school in New York. He was a Chicago
millionaire's son and she was the daughter of wealthy New York people.
Her mother was eager to have the young people marry, but the girl at
that time imagined herself to be in love with another man. In a pique
she left school and set forth to earn her own living. A year's hardship
as governess in the family of Congressman Ritchey and subsequent
disillusionment as a country school-teacher brought her to her senses
and she realised that she cared for Tom Reddon after all.
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