"I left no books in that
hamper."
Bailey picked up one of the cheap paper novels and read its title
aloud, with a wry smile.
"'Little Rosebud's Lover, Or The Cruel Revenge,' by Laura Jean--"
"That's mine!" said Lizzie promptly. "Oh, Miss Neily, I tell you
this house is haunted. I left that book in my satchel along with
'Wedded But No Wife' and now--"
"Where's your satchel?" snapped Miss Cornelia, her eyes gleaming.
"Where's my satchel?" mumbled Lizzie, staring about as best she
could. "I don't see it. If that wretch has stolen my satchel--!"
"Where did you leave it?"
"Up here. Right in this room. It was a new satchel too. I'll have
the law on him, that's what I'll do."
"Isn't that your satchel, Lizzie?" asked Miss Cornelia, indicating
a battered bag in a dark corner of shadows above the window.
"Yes'm," she admitted. But she did not dare approach very close to
the recovered bag. It might bite her!
"Put it there on the hamper," ordered Miss Cornelia.
"I'm scared to touch it!" moaned Lizzie. "It may have a bomb in it!"
She took up the bag between finger and thumb and, holding it with
the care she would have bestowed upon a bottle of nitroglycerin,
carried it over to the hamper and set it down. Then she backed away
from it, ready to leap for the door at a moment's warning.
Miss Cornelia started for the satchel. Then she remembered. She
turned to Bailey.
"You open it," she said graciously. "If the money's there--you're
the one who ought to find it;"
Bailey gave her a look of gratitude.
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