“Not—not the one who was following me?”
“The same. And I nearly got him, but not quite.”
“You—you didn’t get him?”
Cordie hardly knew whether to be sorry or glad. She hated violence; also she had no love for that man.
“I did not get him,” breathed James, “but next time I will, and what I’ll say and do for him will be for both you and me. G’night!” He rose abruptly and, shoulders square, gait steady and strong, he walked away.
“What are you dreaming about?” Lucile asked as she came upon Cordie five minutes later.
“Nothing much, I guess. Thinking through a story I just heard, that’s all.”
CHAPTER XIII
LUCILE’S DREAM
That evening on the L train Lucile read a copy of the morning paper, one which she had carefully saved for a very definite reason. It was the paper which was exploiting the Lady of the Christmas Spirit. Lucile always got a thrill out of reading about the latest doings of that adventurous person who had managed to be everywhere, to mingle with great throngs, and yet to be recognized by no one.
“Well, I declare!” she whispered to herself as a fresh thrill ran through her being. “She was to be in our store this very afternoon; in the art room of the furniture store. That’s the very room in which I saw Cordie and the Mystery Lady. This Lady of the Christmas Spirit may have been in the room at that exact moment. How very, very exciting!”