“Do you realize, imprudent lady,” he said, “that you have turned over to a stranger—I am the stranger—the equivalent of very nearly one hundred dollars in gold?”
“Was it that much?”
“Don’t you know?”
“No.”
“You tempt me to be dishonest,” he laughed. “And it is a great temptation, too; for not only am I broke, but I have lent some of your money to one of the passengers here, and, bless me, he seems to have fallen overboard. He hasn’t been in his room, the bathroom steward tells me, and he hasn’t been at his place at table.”
“How much was it?”
“I’m awfully sorry, but it was forty gold lire. Most peculiar the way the thing happened. I was in the smoker watching a mighty poor game of bridge when I noticed a young chap beside me, odd sort of fellow, well dressed and all that, but consumptive looking. He was watching me with the strangest smile, as if he had some joke on me. Well, he had! When he caught my eye he leaned over and whispered, ‘Good-evening, Mr. Richard.’ Then he winked and stuck out his tongue in the drollest way. Of course I fancied he knew you and had heard about our little fun over names. ‘My name’s Wells,’ he said, and leaned far back and nodded knowingly. ‘And my sister’s name is Geraldine Wells.’
“We shook hands and I made some remark about taking his sister’s name in vain. I explained how we had picked a name at random, and asked him point-blank how he had found us out, but he winked at me and shook his head. ‘I’m no squealer,’ he said. ‘Mum—that’s my name,’ he said very mysteriously. Well, I chatted with him for a while—he didn’t say much himself; he appeared rather disturbed; kept asking me what time it was and getting up and looking out the door and coming back and shaking his head, until I asked if there was any trouble. I’d be glad to make amends for picking his sister’s name out of the catalogue and christening someone else with it.
“‘No,’ he smiled, very plaintively, I thought; there was no trouble, only he wanted to go to bed and couldn’t because the family luggage was tied up out there on the wharf with a lot of cash due on it. Mrs. Wells, his mother, was doing Naples and Pompeii and had taken all the money with her. Of course the trunks and things could wait until morning, but it was rather dangerous to wait. The boat sailed pretty promptly at six the next morning, you know.
“He said, ‘Good-night,’ and started out. I asked him if five dollars would do. He wanted to know how much that was in lire. When I told him he shook his head and said he would camp on deck and wait up for the mother. Forty lire was the amount due. I fumbled in my pocket and fell on your purse. He refused to take the money at first, but finally let me lend it to him. Of course he’ll pay me, unless he got into trouble on the dock and failed to sail with the steamer. But wasn’t it strange about the name Wells, the one I picked out from that steamer-list?”