Nothing But the Truth

Just at that moment there was a flutter of skirts at the door.

Gee-gee and Gid-up came in, the former in a state of great agitation.

“How dared you?” she gasped, going up to the monocle-man and standing with arms akimbo.

“Send you that note, commanding your presence here?” said the monocle-man. “I dared, my dear,” he added slowly, “because I hold the cards.”

“Don’t you ‘dear’ me,” she retorted stormily.

“I wouldn’t, seriously,” he returned. “It might be dangerous. Women like you are dangerous, you know. I fancy our friends here,” glancing toward the commodore and Clarence, “have found that out. But it will be a lesson. ‘We’ll never wander more from our own fireside,’” he hummed.

“Well,” said Gee-gee, shaking her auburn tresses, “those were pretty bold statements of what you could do to me, in that note you sent.”

“They were true, my dear.”

The green eyes flared. Gee-gee was shaking all over. Gid-up looked rather frightened.

“Take it easy,” said the monocle-man.

“I’d like to see you prove what you can do,” she returned. “You say I have framed-up a lot of false-hoods – a tissue of lies – in that affidavit the lawyer at Mrs. Ralston’s drew up. I tell you they’re all true.” Dan looked weak. “Everything I’ve told happened just at I said it did, and he knows it.” Pointing a finger at the commodore.

“I wonder if I ought not to put you in jail now?” said the monocle-man meditatively. “There’s a cell vacant next to the hammer-thrower. You would be congenial spirits.”

“It’s proofs I’m asking, Mr. Detective,” retorted Gee-gee, apparently not greatly abashed by this threat. She was accustomed to hitting back.

“Yes, it’s proofs,” said Gid-up, but in weaker accents.

The monocle-man shook a reproving finger at Gid-up. “You’re in bad company, my dear,” he observed. “You’re out of Gee-gee’s class. You’re just trying to be in it.”

“I don’t want any of your impertinence,” answered Gid-up with a faint imitation of Gee-gee’s manner. “He’s a proper bad one.” Pointing to Clarence who presented a picture of abject misery. “And when I tell all the things he done to me – ”

“But you won’t tell them.”

“I have.” Defiantly. “In that paper the lawyer drew up.”

“But you’re going to sign a little paper I have here, repudiating all that,” he answered her.

“Oh, am I?” Elevating her turned-up nose.

“You are.” Blandly.

“Guess again,” said Gid-up saucily.

“You can’t prove what we told in that affidavit isn’t true,” reaffirmed Gee-gee. Only she and Gid-up could know it was a “frame-up”; they had builded carefully and were sure of their ground. “We know our rights and we’re going to have them. We’re not afraid of you.”

“Then why are you here?” quietly.

“That lawyer at the house said we might as well see you, just to call your bluff. He said, since we had told the truth, we had nothing to fear.”

“I don’t think you’re quite so confident as you seem,” observed the monocle-man. “My note awoke a little uneasiness, or you wouldn’t be here. This young lady,” turning to Gid-up, “suffered a mild case of stage fright, if I am any judge of human nature.”

“Me?” said Gid-up. “I defy you.”

“Here’s the answer,” replied the monocle-man, taking another paper from his pocket.

“What’s that?” said Gee-gee scornfully. “I suppose it’s some lies from him.” Alluding to the commodore. “The lawyer told me to be prepared for them.”

“No; it isn’t that. It’s only a stenographic report of a conversation you and your friend had together in your room, the night you arrived at Mrs. Ralston’s.”

“A stenographic report? Nonsense!” Sharply. Gee-gee remembered all about that conversation. “How could you – ”

“There’s a dictograph in the room you occupied, my dear,” observed the monocle-man.

“A dic – ” Gee-gee seemed to turn green. “Good Gawd!” she said.

It wasn’t very long thereafter that Gee-gee and Gid-up departed.

“Back to the old life!” said Gee-gee wearily. “And just when I thought my ambition to be a star was coming true.”

“Life is sure tough,” observed Gid-up, abandoning her society manner.

“I’m sick of the whole thing. Got a mind to jump in the river.”

“Gas for me!” from poor Gid-up wearily.

“No, you won’t. And I won’t. We’ll just go on. Lord! how long.”

“Anyhow, that detective promised to introduce us to a real Russian grand duke who’s in old New York. Maybe we can get in the papers on that.”

“Perhaps.” More thoughtfully from Gee-gee. “It wasn’t so worse of the detective to promise that, after he’d got us down and walked on us.”

“You must make dukie drink out of your slipper,” suggested Gid-up. “The detective said he was mad after beautiful stage girls. Grand dukes always are.” Hopefully. “And if you do make him do that, it would be heralded from coast to coast.”

“It’s as good as done,” said Gee-gee confidently. “It’ll prove me a great actress, sure.” In a brighter tone.

“I always said you had talent,” remarked Gid-up.

“Cheese it,” retorted Gee-gee elegantly. “Ain’t you the fond flatterer!”

“Anyhow, I’m glad I don’t have to do society talk any more,” said Gid-up, and stuck a piece of gum in her mouth.

“Yes,” said Gee-gee, “my jaws is most broke.”

“Maybe you’d better tighten up your hobble a little for dukie,” suggested Gid-up.

“Have to stand still the rest of my life if I did,” observed Gee-gee, swishing along about six inches a step.

“You could divide it a little.”