Larry paused. “Then she grabs me arm again. ‘I know I heard some one scream in here,’ says she. ‘Won’t you hilp me search the place?’ She was a grand, handsome woman, sor, beautifully dressed, and I thought no harm at all. ‘That I will,’ says I, and we set out together, she clinging on to my arm. The place was as empty as me hand, sor, and thick wid dust. ‘There’s no feetmarks,’ says I, wondering. ‘There is not, then,’ says she. ‘But ’twas in here I heard it, I’m sure of that.’
“Presently she opens a door,” Larry went on. “ ’Twas all dark inside, sor. ‘Phwat’s in there?’ says she. ‘I don’t know,’ says I, holding back. ‘Well thin, go an’ see,’ says she, an’ I went, sor!”
Larry paused indignantly, and I stifled my growing desire to laugh, with difficulty. “Well?” I demanded.
“Sure, sor, no sooner was I inside than she shut the door on me. An’ it was black as yer hat. ‘Phwat’s that for?’ I asked her. But she didn’t answer and I felt for the knob, sor; the door was locked!”
At this I broke into shouts of laughter. And the hurt, indignant look on his face set me off again worse than ever every time I tried to collect myself.
“Well?” I asked him at last.
“Sure, sor, I called to her. ‘Let me out!’ I says. ‘Get out yerself!’ she says and laughed at me. Then I heard her running down the hall, and next minute the outside door shut.”
“Well, Larry,” I gasped, between spasms of laughter, “you are an easy mark! How did you get out finally?”
“Bruk out a panel at last and shot the bolt back. But it was hot work in that closet. What do you suppose she wanted, sor?”
“Did you leave the door open—our front door—when you started out with her?” I asked him.