She opened the little wrist-bag which she carried, only to make the startling discovery that her purse was missing.
Even as she realised this, there flashed across her memory the fact that her father had often told her that it was a careless way to carry money, and that she would sooner or later be relieved of her purse by some clever pickpocket.
Patty could not be sure whether this was what had happened in the present instance, or whether she had left her purse at home. As she had carried change for carfare in her coat pocket, she had not expected to need a large sum of money, and her confused brain refused to remember whether she had put her purse in her bag or not.
She found herself staring at the cabman, who was looking distrustfully at her.
“I think I have had my pocket picked,” she said slowly, “or else I left my purse at home. I don’t know which.”
“No, no, Miss, that won’t go down,” said the cabman, not rudely, but with an uncomfortable effect of being determined to have his fare. “Pay up, now, pay up,” he went on, “and you’ll save yourself trouble in the end.”
“But I can’t pay you,” said Patty. “I haven’t any money.”
“Then you didn’t ought to ride. It ain’t the first time I’ve knowed a swell young lady to try to beat her way. Come, Miss, if you don’t pay me I’ll have to drive you to the station house.”
“What!” cried Patty, her face turning white with anger and mortification.
“Yes, Miss, that’s the way we do. I s’pose you know you’ve stole a ride.”