“Er––little girl,” he said, looking in and addressing Carmen, “you––you know this lady, do you?”
“Yes,” replied Carmen, looking up confidently into the woman’s smiling face. “She is Auntie, Mr. Reed’s aunt.” She thought his blue uniform and shining buttons and star gorgeously beautiful.
The officer stood hesitant a moment. Suspicion lurked in his eyes as he looked at the woman and then back again at the girl.
“She is a little girl who came up from the South with my nephew, Mr. Reed,” the woman explained easily. “But I don’t wonder you asked. I will give you my card, if you wish.”
Her air was supremely confident. The chauffeur, too, as he got out and leisurely examined his engine, served further to disarm suspicion. The officer raised up and removed his hand from the machine. The chauffeur slowly mounted the box and threw on his lever. As the car moved gently into the night the officer glanced at its number. “Hell!” he muttered, turning away. “What’s the use? The number would be changed anyway. What’s a fellow going to do in a case like this, I’d like to know––go with ’em?”
Some minutes later, Harris, wild and disheveled, followed by Reed and his party, emerged hurriedly into the street.
“What you looking for?” asked the officer, planting himself in front of Harris, and becoming vaguely apprehensive.
“Girl!” sputtered Harris, his eyes protruding and his long arms pawing the air. “Girl––so high––funny dress––big straw hat! Seen her?”
The officer gasped. “She’s gone! Aunt took her just now in an auto!”