"'Oh, that sorter thing don't go now,' said the man; 'besides, the cop
who stopped yer awhile ago knows a thing or two. You can't work any
Turkish brigand racket here in Washington--the town's too small. Could
do it in New York, I suppose, but not down here. The game ain't worth
the candle, anyhow. The chap's blown in all he had about him. We've got
his scarf-pin and alarm clock, and that's all there is to it.'
"'I guess you're right,' remarked the Jewel; 'but wait until Lola comes,
and see what she says.'
"'So they think I am old Manysnifters,' thought I, trying to smile.
'That's real funny, ain't it? Oh, if he were only here now, wouldn't he
get me out of this?' And in my fancy I could see my husky friend
grappling with the gang outside, pitching them down the stairs, and
carrying me off in triumph--the way they do it in the best sellers. My
captors then went below, their voices trailing away into silence. They
left me with some nasty thoughts.
"'What would the faculty of Jay think of their Seymour, could they but
gaze upon him now? What would my pupils say? The World, the great World
at large, the Press, the Pulpit?' (My brother is an Atlanta clergyman.)
'What would these great social forces say?' Confused ideas of my
identity and importance arose like fumes to further befuddle me.
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