“Of course you would, you dressy little person,” said Billie. “I didn’t care for the feel of them myself, and I don’t mind how soon I get a bath and a shampoo now I’ve got rid of them; but it was almost interesting, being disguised as a beggar. If I had had half a chance, I should have held out my hand for pennies, just to see how profitable the begging business is.”
“Well, you’ve given us a dreadful time, my dear,” sighed Miss Helen Campbell; “but I’ve only myself to blame. I am a poor guardian, I am afraid, driving off that way and leaving you two inexperienced children alone.”
“No, dearest cousin, it was your cabman’s fault. He went too fast for us to follow him.”
“I think it was our cabman’s fault,” said Nancy, “for not listening to the address.”
“It was my fault, really, for not getting the address,” cried Billie.
But who shall say where the blame lay in an incident so strange and unaccountable? Perhaps it lay on the shoulders of Providence herself who had made Billie and Nancy her unconscious tools in the great game of fate. By that night of loneliness and terror, their destinies had become linked with the destinies of other persons, and without knowing it, they had learned a powerful secret.
“We are minus two cloth skirts, two polo coats, two hats, a watch, two pins and a locket; one coral silk tie and one blue silk tie,” announced Nancy, counting off their stolen possessions on her fingers.
“Is Miss Felicia Rivers to be arrested?” demanded Mary Price.
“Likewise Mr. Thomas Dinwiddie, Dealer in Old Clothes?” put in Elinor Butler.
“They should be in jail this minute, the villains!” cried Miss Campbell.