"We discovered she lodged in your house and we trailed her to the beauty parlor where she labors. Ruth pumped her."
"Oh, you are a fine favorite of hers," rallied Ruth. "She swears by you, Mr. Blake. I happened to casually mention your name, and she was charmed by the coincidence of your being a mutual friend. She gave you a very fine character indeed, though, she hated to admit, you were not as gallant as you might be. 'Regular goop with goils,' I believe she said."
"Silly little mush-head," mumbled Martin, greatly confused. "Suppose she told you everything she knew about me."
"Yes, and then some," remarked Little Billy. "Oh, Ruth has your entire history, Martin Blake. But I would not blush about it. Indeed, if my record were as good as yours, I would straighten my back. Ruth came out of that beauty-parlor with a record that goes something like this: very good-looking, muscular, studious, poor but honest, does not drink or smoke to excess, though has been known to swear violently and indulge in combat on occasion of coalman flogging horse up a hill, is impervious to wiles of beskirted siren, be her hair ever so yellow, and her eyes ever so blue.
"Frankly, we were disappointed by your uncompromising rectitude, friend Martin. We were, you see, greatly desirous of obtaining that envelope you had in your pocket. We had hoped to discover some weakness, some vice, in your composition—a fondness for drink, or for women, or for cards—something we might use as a leverage to pry loose from you that envelope. We failed in our quest, and we had to abandon our safe scheme of cunning in favor of more direct and violent methods.
"We hired an automobile for the day—I'll wager that garage man was peevish when he discovered his machine abandoned in an alleyway, today—and Ruth and the bosun departed for that neighborhood that lodged you. I waited around the office, and when you left I trailed you home.
"I met Ruth and bosun, and we hit upon a plan. I went to a clothing store and purchased a suit of men's clothes, and overcoat, and a cap. Ruth donned them in the privacy of the car. Then, she and I took up our position in the dark doorway of the vacant house next door to you."
"Why, I recall! I saw a chap in a gray overcoat!" cried Martin.
"On the steps as you came out of the house," supplemented Little Billy. "Yes, that was Ruth. You came out before we expected you, and we were not prepared. You see, we had decided to hold you up. I was to shove a revolver in your face, and Ruth was to relieve you of the envelope. Your popping out so unexpectedly upset us.
"Ruth sneezed, and attracted your attention, and then she lost her wits and beat it down the street. If you had looked more keenly into that doorway next door, you would have seen yours-truly lurking nervously there. But you went straightway down the street yourself, and, in truth, I was not sorry that accident spoiled our coup. Neither Ruth, nor I, liked very well the idea of sticking up that active-appearing and uncertain quantity termed 'Martin Blake,' not to mention our scruples anent law-breaking violence.