“What was that?”
“I will tell you just what occurred. You then will understand and perhaps will appreciate my feelings.”
“I think so.” Chick bowed. “Tell me frankly. I would be glad to befriend you in any way.”
“It was like this, sir.” The girl leaned nearer to him over the show case and spoke with lowered voice. “I had been alone to the Alhambra, and the show was an unusually long one. It was after eleven o’clock when it ended. I came out with the crowd and turned up Main Street to go home. I had walked only a short distance, not more than a block, and the sidewalk still was quite crowded, when I felt something touch my hand. I turned quickly and glanced at the nearest person, but none seemed to have any interest in me or to be the one who had left it.”
“Left what?” Chick inquired curiously.
“The leather bag.” Miss Fielding gazed at him more intently, as if really glad to have found some one in whom she could confide and depend upon for advice. “The leather bag—it had been placed in my hand by some person. That is to say, sir, I now think that it was, though I then was not quite sure of it.”
“Why so? Explain,” said Chick attentively.
“Well, sir, there were many people passing in each direction at the time, and it all occurred so quickly and was so very singular that I was quite confused. But there was the leather bag in my right hand, and I thought at first that I might accidentally have torn it from the belt or the long neck chain of some passing woman. I could see no woman near me, however, and I now feel sure that the bag was quickly and stealthily placed in my hand.”
“That was, indeed, a strange experience,” said Chick. “What did you do about it? What followed?”
“I looked for some one from whom I could have accidentally taken it or who might have given it to me,” Nellie continued. “As I already have said, however, no one appeared to have any interest in me, and there was no woman near me.”