Little Lost Sister Part 21

"I've never met her," replied Harry. "She's a member of the wealthy Randall family. Her mother died when she was young and I understand she was brought up very quietly."

"Do you know her, Miss Masters," persisted Boland.

The girl was startled, "I--why--I?" she hesitated.

"Yes--yes," said Harry, "do you know her?"

The girl still hesitated and Grogan broke in.

"You're a woman, Miss Masters," he said, "you ought to know all the feminine quirks. Now it's up to you. Who's Mary Randall?"

"Mary Randall is a wealthy girl," said Miss Masters calmly. "She has grown weary of the foolish methods you men have employed in attacking the vice problem. Convinced of your total incompetence she has started out really to do something."

"What does she want?" snorted John Boland.

"She said in a printed letter," replied Miss Masters, "that she wanted to put several property owners and crooked senators in jail."

Grogan was impressed by this statement.

"Do you want to buy the rest of my South Side property, John?" he inquired of Boland.

"Doesn't she know she's disturbing business?" asked Boland of Miss Masters, ignoring Grogan.

"Mary Randall also said," the girl replied, "that the greatest business in the world is that of redeeming 'Little Lost Sisters.'"

"You see, you see," said Grogan, "the farther you go, John, the more punches you get."

"I haven't time to bother with this foolishness," said Boland. "I've got a big contract on with the Simmons people."

He went to the door of his son's office.

"Come on Harry--you too Mike. Come in, Miss Masters, and take down this contract."

The three men started toward the door. As Grogan pa.s.sed Miss Masters he whispered: "Young woman, if any more blue skyrockets come for me, play the hose on them."

"Very well," said the girl, smiling.

Having secured her notebook she started toward the inner office when a smartly dressed young man entered.

"h.e.l.lo girlie," he said, intercepting her.

"Good morning," replied Miss Masters primly. "What's your business?"

"Oh, just like that, eh?" said the youth.

"Yes," replied the girl sharply. "What do you want?"

"Mr. John Boland."

"You can't see him now. He's busy."

There was a sharp, impatient call from the inner office.

"Yes sir, I'm coming," replied the girl.

"Well, be quick about it," returned the voice. "Do you think I can wait all day?"

"That's John Boland, isn't it?" inquired the man eagerly.

Miss Masters nodded a.s.sent.

"Well, tell him--"

"I'm sorry," broke in the girl, "but he's busy. He won't see anyone."

"Well then, tell him when you can that Martin Druce called."

"Martin Druce!" Miss Masters kept her eyes on the blank page before her, but she made no effort to make a memorandum of the name. She added slowly:

"You called on the 'phone this morning."

"I sure did." Druce, with the familiarity of an old acquaintance, began toying with the silver vanity box Miss Randall wore suspended from her neck. "Say," he went on insinuatingly, "you have the sweetest voice--"

"Better tell me why you want to see Mr. Boland," she said quietly taking the vanity box from him and putting him at a distance. At the same time she smiled at him archly.

"Just want to renew a lease--the Cafe Sinister."

"Oh," said the girl, "I've heard of it."

"It's some swell place," replied Druce with pride.

"Yes?" said the girl. She pantomimed counting money. "Yes, as long as you can keep the police asleep."

"What in--what the deuce do you mean?" Druce inquired quickly.

Miss Masters shrugged her shoulders. Again she smiled at him archly.

"Oh, you're wise, eh?" Druce laughed. He felt that he was on familiar ground with this girl. There was that in her manner that indicated the wisdom of the demi-monde. He thought he had placed her.

"You're wise, eh?" he repeated. The girl had maneuvered to place a table between them. He leaned against the table and placed a hand on hers.

"Why does a fine looker like you spend her life pounding a typewriter?"

"Would you advise a change?"

"You could make a hundred a week in the cabarets," declared Druce admiringly.

"Perhaps," replied Miss Masters. She picked up her notebook and started for the inner office. "But I know where that road leads."