“My ticket!” cried the short-haired woman, glaring through her spectacles at Ruth and Helen.
“Your ticket?” said the officer. “What about it?”
“It isn’t there!” and she pointed tragically to the seat on which she had previously rested.
“Did you leave it there?” queried the officer, guessing at the reason for her excitement.
“I just did, sir!” snapped the stern woman.
“Your ticket for your trip to Norfolk?”
“No, it isn’t. It’s my ticket for my railroad trip from Norfolk to Charleston. I had it folded in one of those Southern Railroad Company’s folders. And now it isn’t in my bag.”
“Well?” said the officer calmly. “I apprehend that you left the folder on this seat—or think you did?”
“I know I did,” declared the excited woman. “Those girls were following me around in a most impudent way; and they were right here when I got up and forgot that folder.”
“The inference being, then,” went on the officer, “that they took the folder and the ticket?”