He didn't answer. He had pulled the Sergeant down and was whispering in his ear. I knew what that meant. It meant a special pull and a special way of doing things and—
"You'll do well, my girl, to give up Mr. Tausig's property to him," the Sergeant said stiffly.
"But what have I got that belongs to him?" I demanded.
He grinned and shrugged his big shoulders.
"We've a way of finding out, you know, here. Give it up or—"
"But what does he say I've taken? What charge is there against me? Have you the right to search any woman who walks in here? And what in the world would I want a paper of Tausig's for?"
"You won't give it up then?" He tapped a bell.
A woman came in. I had a bad minute there, but it didn't last; it wasn't the matron I'd brought the baby to.
"You'll take this girl into the other room and search her thoroughly. The thing we're looking for—" The Sergeant turned to Tausig.
"A small paper," he said eagerly. "A—a contract—just a single sheet of legal cap paper it was type-written and signed by myself and some other gentlemen, and folded twice."