OCR Interpretation


The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, March 30, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 19

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1914-03-30/ed-1/seq-19/

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er help us get that five thousand dol
lar reward." -
"Oh, well, it has been an interest
ing experience for me. On that ac
count I should like to continue my
study of human nature."
"All right, see here," said the chief,
"try a little professional practice on
your own account, come back in a
week and report to me and I will see
if there is anything encouraging in
the prospe.pt."
"You mean J' t
"Go out on the street. Single out
some individual you never saw be
fore. Put in forty-eight hours finding
out all about him on your own initia
tive. Make it a sample of your skill
in the detective line."
"Thanks, I'll try it,"1 bowed Weston,
and retired. "Whom shall I pick out,"
he ruminated as he reached the
crowded street, and almost uncon
sciously he walked on until he had
reached the poor quarter of the city
- where he had ben watching Greg
Amory and his accomplice.
Crossing a street he noticed a
plaper fall from a portfolio a neatly
dressed young lady was carrying un
der her arm. Naturally he hastened
forward, secured it, hurried after its
owner, and hat in hand tenderedrit
to her with a courteous explanation.
"Oh, thank you," was the pretty
gratitude expressed by the owner of
the fairest face Lee Weston had ever
looked upon, and the young lady
walked on, leaving. Weston fairly
electrified with the memory of a smile
that seemed to awaken every gentle
impulse in his soul.
He stood staring, after this abrupt
illumination of youth and beauty. His
mind worked curiously and quick.
"Why not," he shot suddenly.
Yes, here he was interested, then
why not "shadow" this lovely- girl,
trace out her life, her history? He
pretended he was acting on a profes
sional impulse. It was nothing of the
sort. Lee Weston "was fostering a
romance.
. He did not return to report to his
chief that day nor the next. He wasv
too much personally absorbed in his
task. He learned that the young lady
was a Miss Fay Whittier, that she
was an art student, that she was ap
parently alone in the world, that she
was the idol of the denizens of the :
boarding house where she stayed be-
cause of her kindly ways.
And then three evenings later,
while he was shadowing her she!
faced him by cleverly doubling on her
tracks.
"Why are you following me?" she
asked simply and unaffectedly. "I
know you are a gentleman, so you
will tell me the truth."
And in the presence of those sweet,
true, unfaltering eyes, Ray Weston
blundered out the whole story.
Miss Whittier laughed merrily.
"What a strange story," she cried.
"Well, I must help you. You must
call upon me this evening and I will
tell you so much about myself, that
when you report back to your chief
he will think you are a magician to
have secured such precise informa
tion." The quaint conceit was followed
out that evening. In the parlor of the
boarding house those two indulged
in a most pleasing chat. It was as
Weston was about to leave that Miss
Whittier remarked rather gravely.
"Now you can do something for
me, Mr. Weston."
"What is it? I shall be pleased,"
declared Weston readily.
"I have a strange lady under my
charge. About a week, ago I came
across her lying in the dark near the
front steps, where she had fallen. She
was poorly dressed and had a little
satchel. She was unconscious, looked
poor, and I had her brought into Hi 3
house and have nursed her since. 1 1 e
doctor says she has suffered a con
cussion of tthe brain and she is still
delirious. I wish to find her friends."
"You cannot find out who she is?"
"Only that she had in her satchel a
safety deposit key and receipt in the
name of 'Mary Amory.' "

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