The Bandbox

“What was me?” enquired the man inelegantly if with spirit.

“I mean,” she said, “you were after the necklace, after all.”

“To be sure,” he said pertly. “What did you think?”

“I hoped it wasn’t so,” she said brokenly. “When you escaped yesterday morning, and when tonight I found the necklace – I was so glad!”

“Then you did find it?” he demanded promptly.

She gave him a look of contempt. “You know it!”

“My dear child,” he expostulated insincerely, “what makes you say that?”

“You don’t mean to pretend you didn’t steal the bandbox from me, just now, in that taxicab, trying to get the necklace?” she demanded.

He waited an instant, then shrugged. “I presume denial would be useless.”

“Quite.”

“All right then: I won’t deny anything.”

She moved away from the telephone to a chair wherein she dropped as if exhausted, hands knitted together in her lap, her chin resting on her chest.

“You see,” said the man, “I wanted to spare you the knowledge that you were being held up by your fond parent.”

“I should have known you,” she said, “but for that disguise – the beard and motor-coat.”

“That just goes to show that filial affection will out,” commented the man. “You haven’t seen me for seven years – ”

“Except on the steamer,” she corrected.

“True, but there I kept considerately out of your way.”

“Considerately!” she echoed in a bitter tone.

“Can you question it?” he asked, lightly ironic, moving noiselessly to and fro while appraising the contents of the room with swift, searching glances.

“As, for instance, your actions tonight…”

“They simply prove my contention, dear child.” He paused, gazing down at her with a quizzical leer. “My very presence here affirms my entire devotion to your welfare.”

She looked up, dumfounded by his effrontery. “Is it worth while to waste your time so?” she enquired. “You failed the first time tonight, but you can’t fail now; I’m alone, I can’t oppose you, and you know I won’t raise an alarm. Why not stop talking, take what you want and go? And leave me to be accused of theft unless I choose to tell the world – what it wouldn’t believe – that my own father stole the necklace from me!”

“Ah, but how unjust you are!” exclaimed the man. “How little you know me, how little you appreciate a father’s affection!”

“And you tried to rob me not two hours ago!”

“Yes,” he said cheerfully: “I admit it. If I had got away with it then – well and good. You need never have known who it was. Unhappily for both of us, you fooled me.”

“For both of us?” she repeated blankly.

“Precisely. It puts you in a most serious position. That’s why I’m here – to save you.”

In spite of her fatigue, the girl rose to face him. “What do you mean?”

“Simply that between us we’ve gummed this business up neatly – hard and fast. You see – I hadn’t any use for that hat; I stopped in at an all-night telegraph station and left it to be delivered to Miss Landis, never dreaming what the consequences would be. Immediately thereafter, but too late, I learned – I’ve a way of finding out what’s going on, you know – that Miss Landis had already put the case in the hands of the police. It makes it very serious for you – the bandbox returned, the necklace still in your possession, your wild, incredible yarn about meaning to restore it …”

In her overwrought and harassed condition, the sophistry illuded her; she was sensible only of the menace his words distilled. She saw herself tricked and trapped, meshed in a web of damning circumstance; everything was against her – appearances, the hands of all men, the cruel accident that had placed the necklace in her keeping, even her parentage. For she was the daughter of a notorious thief, a man whose name was an international byword. Who would believe her protestations of innocence – presuming that the police should find her before she could reach either Staff or Miss Landis?

“But,” she faltered, white to her lips, “I can take it to her now – instantly – ”

Instinctively she clutched her handbag. The man’s eyes appreciated the movement. His face was shadowed for a thought by the flying cloud of a sardonic smile. And the girl saw and read that smile.

“Unless,” she stammered, retreating from him a pace or two – “unless you – ”

He silenced her with a reassuring gesture.

“You do misjudge me!” he said in a voice that fairly wept.

Hope flamed in her eyes. “You mean – you can’t mean – ”

Again he lifted his hand. “I mean that you misconstrue my motive. Far be it from me to deny that I am – what I am. We have ever been plain-spoken with one another. You told me what I was seven years ago, when you left me, took another name, disowned me and …” His voice broke affectingly for an instant. “No matter,” he resumed, with an obvious effort. “The past is past, and I am punished for all that I have ever done or ever may do, by the loss of my daughter’s confidence and affection. It is my fault; I have no right to complain. But now … Yes, I admit I tried to steal the necklace in the Park tonight. But I failed, and failing I did that which got you into trouble. Now I’m here to help you extricate yourself. Don’t worry about the necklace – keep it, hide it where you will. I don’t want and shan’t touch, it on any conditions.”

“You mean I’m free to return it to Miss Landis?” she gasped, incredulous.

“Just that.”

“Then – where can I find her?”

He shrugged. “There’s the rub. She’s left town.”

She steadied herself with a hand on the table. “Still I can follow her…”

“Yes – and must. That’s what I’ve come to tell you and to help you do.”

“Where has she gone?”

“To her country place in Connecticut, on the Sound shore.”

“How can I get there? By railroad?” Eleanor started toward the telephone.

“Hold on!” he said sharply. “What are you going to do?”

“Order a time-table – ”

“Useless,” he commented curtly. “Every terminal in the city is already watched by detectives. They’d spot you in a twinkling. Your only salvation is to get to Miss Landis before they catch you.”

In her excitement and confusion she could only stand and stare. A solitary thought dominated her consciousness, dwarfing and distorting all others: she was in danger of arrest, imprisonment, the shame and ignominy of public prosecution. Even though she were to be cleared of the charge, the stain of it would cling to her, an ineradicable blot.