“The influence of the Almighty Dollar,” said Garry Knapp, briefly. “This morning I had just spent several hundred dollars of Bob Douglass’ good money in that store. And here at this hotel Bob’s name is as good as a gold certificate.”
“Oh, money! money!” groaned Tavia, “what crimes are committed in thy name—and likewise, what benefits achieved! I wonder what the person who stole it is doing with my money?”
“Perhaps it was somebody who needed it more than you do,” said Dorothy, rather quizzically.
“Can’t be such a person. And needy people seldom find money. Besides, needy folk are always honest—in the books. I’m honest myself, and heaven knows I’m needy!”
“Was it truly all the money you had with you?” asked Garry Knapp, commiseratingly.
“Honest and true, black and blue, lay me down and cut me in two!” chanted Tavia.
“All but the five dollars in the bank,” Dorothy said demurely, but with dancing eyes.
And for once Tavia actually blushed and was silenced—for a moment. Garry drawled:
“I wonder who did get your bag, Miss Travers? Of course, there are always light-fingered people hanging about a store like that.”
“And the money will be put to no good use,” declared the loser, dejectedly. “If the person finding it would only found a hospital—or something—with it, I’d feel a lot better. But I know just what will happen.”