“Of course if you catch the shoplifters you want the glory of it and if you took him in on it he might get half,” said Mrs. Leslie. “That’s human nature.”
“I don’t care a snap for the glory,” laughed Josie. “It may be human nature, but it is not mine and it was not my father’s. I know you think this will sound smug, but honestly and truly the doing of the work is what interests me and anybody who wants to can walk off with the laurel wreath. Of course the laborer is worthy of his hire and I want the hard cash for delivering the goods. Not that I do the work for money either—that is, I don’t think about the money and of it while I am doing it. After it is all over it is rather pleasant to deposit a fat check in the bank.”
“Yes, I reckon it is, and it takes money to dress as you do,” said Mrs. Leslie.
“As I do?” laughed Josie. “Why, Mrs. Leslie, I don’t believe there is a girl at Burnett & Burnett’s so simply dressed as I am.”
“Simply but elegantly!” insisted Mrs. Leslie. “I know dress goods when I see it—and shoes—there is nothing simple about your shoes.”
“Well, you are right, my dear lady. I do get good material for my frocks and I do wear good shoes. By the way, what did Major Simpson think of my shoes?”
“Your shoes!” and Mrs. Leslie blushed furiously. “What do you mean, Josie? But I’m not going to lie about it. The Major did go in your room, but he made me feel it was in the cause of the upholding of the law that I should take him there. He did not meddle with anything however—except—”
“Except my little book in the top drawer,” teased Josie.
“Yes—” faltered the much embarrassed hostess, “but how did you know that?”
“I knew it in the first place because the book was not quite in the corner and the back turned in instead of out. But if I had not known it already this would have been proof that someone had been in my drawer.” Josie produced the broken cuff link.