The Crimson Thread: An Adventure Story for Girls

  CHAPTER IX HER DOUBLE

  "Two more shopping days before Christmas," Lucile read these words in thepaper on the following morning as she stepped into the elevator which wasto take her to a day of strenuous labor. She read them and sighed. Then,of a sudden, she started and stared. The cause of this sudden change wasthe elevator girl.

  "Why, Florence!" she exclaimed half incredulous. "You here?"

  "Sure. Why not?" smiled the big, athletic looking girl who handled theelevator with skill.

  "Well, I didn't know--"

  "Didn't know I needed the money badly enough," laughed Florence. "Well, Ido. Seems that one is always running out of cash, especially when itcomes near to Christmas. I was getting short, so I came down here andthey gave me this job. Thought I could stand the rush I guess," shesmiled as she put one arm about her former chum in a bear-like embrace.

  If you have read our other books, "The Cruise of the O'Moo" and "TheSecret Mark," you will remember that these two girls had been the best ofchums. But a great University is a place of many changes. Their paths hadcrossed and then they had gone in diverging ways. Now they were more thanpleased to find that, for a time, they were employed in the same store.

  "Speaking of Christmas," said Florence, "since I haven't any grandChristmas surprises coming from other people, I've decided to buy myselfa surprise."

  "How can you do that?" asked Lucile, a look of incredulity on her face.

  "Why, you see----"

  "Here's my floor. See you later." Lucile sprang from the elevator and wasaway.

  "It's nice to meet old friends," the elevator girl thought to herself asshe went speeding up the shaft, "especially when the holiday season isnear. I must try to see more of Lucile."

  Running an elevator in a department store is a dull task. Little enoughadventure in that, you might say, except when your cable begins to slipwith a full load on board. But Florence was destined to come under thespell of mystery and to experience thrilling adventure before her shortservice as an elevator girl came to an end.

  Mystery came leaping at her right out of the morning. She left her car inthe basement and went for a drink. She was gone but a second. When shecame back the elevator door was closed and the cage cables in motion.

  "Gone!" she whispered. "I never heard of such a thing. Who could havetaken it?

  "Might have been the engineer taking it for a testing trip," she thoughtafter a few seconds of deliberation. "But no, that doesn't seem probable.He'd not be down this early. But who could it be? And why did they doit?"

  If the disappearance of her car had been startling, the thing shewitnessed three minutes later was many times more so.

  With fast beating heart she saw the shadow of the car move down fromfifth floor to fourth, from fourth to third, then saw the car itselfcover the remaining distance to the basement.

  Her knees trembled with excitement and fear as she watched the cage inits final drop. The excitement was born of curiosity; the fear was thatthis should mean the last of her position. She had never been dischargedand this gave her an unwonted dread of it.

  The car came to a stop at the bottom. Three passengers got off and onegot on, and the car shot upward again. And Florence did nothing but standthere and stare in astonishment!

  Had she seen a ghost, a ghost of herself? What had happened? Her head wasin a whirl. The girl at the lever was herself. Broad shoulders, largehands, round cheeks, blue eyes, brown hair, even to freckles that yieldednot to winters indoors. It was her own self, to the life.

  "And yet," she reasoned, "here I am down here. What shall I do?"

  As she faced the situation more calmly, she realized that the girldriving her car must be her double, her perfect double. She rememberedreading somewhere that everyone in the world had a double. And here washers. But why had her double made up her hair in her exact fashion,donned an elevator girl's uniform and taken her elevator from her?

  "That is what I must find out," she told herself.

  "There's no use making a scene by jumping in and demanding my cage," shereasoned, after a moment's reflection. "I'll just get on as a passengerand ride up with her."

  There was something of a thrill in this affair. She was beginning toenjoy it.

  "It's--why, it's fairly mysterious," she breathed.

  In spite of all, she found herself anticipating the next move in thelittle drama. Driving an elevator was frightfully dull business. Going upand down, up and down; answering innumerable questions all day long aboutthe location of silks, shoes, baby rattle, nutmeg graters, boxing gloves,garters and fly-swatters--this was a dull task that tended to put one tosleep. And often enough, after her noon luncheon, she actually had tofight off sleep. But here, at last, was a touch of mystery, romance andadventure.

  "My double," she breathed. "I'll find out who she is and why she didthis, or die in the attempt."

  Again the cage moved downward.

  This time, as the last customer moved out of the door, she stepped in.Moving to the back of the car, she stood breathlessly waiting for thenext move of her mysterious double.

  The move did not come at once; in fact she had to wait there in the backof the car a surprisingly long time. The girl at the lever--herdouble--had poise, this was easy enough seen, and she had operated anelevator before, too. She brought the cage to its position at each floorwith an exactness and precision that could but be admired.

  The cage filled at the first floor. It began to empty at the third. Bythe time they had reached the eleventh, only two passengers, besideFlorence, remained in the back of the car. Only employees went beyond theeleventh; the floors above were stock rooms.

  The girl at the lever threw back a fleeting glance. Florence thought shewas about to speak, but she did not.

  The car went to the thirteenth landing. There two people got off andthree got on. Florence remained. The car dropped from floor to flooruntil they were again in the basement. Once more the mysterious doublegave Florence a fleeting glance. She did not speak. Florence did not movefrom her place in the corner. The car rose again. To Florence thesituation was growing tense, unbearable.

  Again the car emptied. At the eleventh floor Florence found herself inthe car alone with her double. This gave her a strange, frightenedfeeling, but she resolutely held her place.

  "Say!" exclaimed the girl, turning about as the car moved slowly upward."Let me run your car, will you? Take my place, won't you? You won't havea thing to do. It--it'll be a lark." As she said all this in a whisperthere was a tense eagerness on her face that Florence could not miss.

  "But--but your car?" she managed to whisper back.

  "Haven't any. Don't go on until to-morrow. Here's my locker key. Get--getmy coat and furs and hat out and wear them. Stay in the store--BookSection and Rest Room. All you have to do.

  "Only," she added as an afterthought, "if someone speaks to you, tellsyou something, you say, 'Oh! All right.' Just like that. And if they askyou what you said, you repeat. That's all you'll have to do."

  "Oh, but I can't--"

  "It isn't anything bad," the other girl put in hastily. There was a sortof desperate eagerness about the tense lines of her face. They werenearing the thirteenth floor. "Not a thing that's bad--nor--nor anythingyou wouldn't gladly do yourself. I--I'll explain some time. On--only doit, will you?"

  They had reached the thirteenth floor. She pressed the key in Florence'sreluctant hand.

  A tall man, with an arm load of socks in bundles, got on the car. Helooked at Florence. He looked at her double. Then he stared at both ofthem. After that his large mouth spread apart in a broad grin as hechuckled:

  "Pretty good. Eh?"

  Three minutes later Florence found herself in a kind of daze, standing atthe tenth floor landing, staring down at her steadily dropping car.

  "Oh, well," she whispered, shaking herself out of her daze, "sort of alark, I suppose. No harm in it. Might as well have a half day off." Withthat she t
urned and walked toward the locker room.

  The coat and hat she took from the mysterious one's locker were veryplain and somewhat worn, not as good as her own. But the fur throw was athing to marvel at; a crossed fox, the real thing, no dyed imitation, andso richly marked with gray that it might easily be taken for a silvergray.

  "Some strange little combination," she breathed as she threw the furabout her neck and started once more for the elevator.

  As a proof of the fact that she was carrying out her share of thecompact, she waited for her own elevator. The strange girl shot her aquick smile as she entered and another as she got off on the third floorwhere was the rest room and book section.

  "Seems terribly queer to be walking around in another girl's clothes,"she whispered to herself as she drifted aimlessly past rows of peopleresting in leather cushioned chairs. "Especially when that other girl issomeone you've spoken to but once in your life. I wonder--I do wonder whyI did it?"

  She meditated on this question until she had reached the book section.

  "It was the look in her eyes; an eager, haunted look. She's all right,I'd swear to that, and she's in some sort of trouble that's not all herown fault. Trouble," she mused. "Part of our reason for being here in theworld is that we may help others out of trouble. I--I guess I'm glad Idid it."

  Of this last she could not be sure. She had sometimes been mistaken, hadbestowed confidence and assistance on persons who were unworthy. Shouldthis girl prove to be such a person, then she might be helping her to getaway with some unlawful act. And she might lose her position, too.

  "Oh well," she sighed at last, "it's done. I'll lose my memory of it hereamong the books." To one who is possessed of a real love for books, it isa simple task to forget all else in a room where there are thousands ofthem. So completely did Florence forget that she soon lost allconsciousness of the role she was playing, and when a rough looking manwith a seafaring roll to his walk came marching toward her she could donothing but stare at him. And when he said, "Howdy Meg," she only staredthe harder.

  "The train leaves at eleven thirty," he said, twisting his well worn capin his nervous fingers.

  "The--the--" she hesitated. Then of a sudden the words of the girl cameback to her.

  "Oh! All right," she said in as steady a tone as she could command.

  "What say?" asked the man.

  "I said 'Oh, all right.'"

  "Right it is, then," he said and, turning about, disappeared behind apile of books.

  With her head in a whirl, the girl stood and stared after him.

  "The train leaves at eleven thirty," she whispered. It was a few minutespast ten now. Should she go and tell the girl? She had not beeninstructed in this regard. What sort of an affair was this she wasgetting into, anyway? Was this girl hiding from her people, attempting torun away? The man had looked rough enough, but he had looked honest, too.

  She had wandered about the place in uncertainty for another half hour.Then a kindly faced women, in a sort of uniform and a strange hat withgold lettered "Seaman's Rest" on its band, accosted her.

  "Why, Meg!" she exclaimed. "You still here? The train leaves ateleven-thirty."

  There it was again. This time she did not forget.

  "Oh! All right!" she exclaimed and turning hurried away as if to make atrain.

  An hour later, still very much puzzled and not a little worried, shereturned to the locker room, took off the borrowed clothes, gave thewonderful fox fur a loving pat, deposited it with the coat and hat, thenlocked the door.

  After that she went to her own locker, put on her wraps preparatory togoing to lunch, then walked over to the elevator.

  A moment's wait brought her car to her. The other girl was stilloperating skillfully. Florence pressed the locker key into the girl'shand and stepped to the back of the car. Five minutes later she foundherself in the crisp air of a midwinter day.

  "And to think," she whispered to herself, "that I'd do that for a totalstranger."

  As she ate her lunch a resolve, one of the strongest she had ever made,formed itself in her mind. She would become acquainted with hermysterious double and would learn her secret.

  "The train leaves at eleven-thirty," she mused. "Well, wherever it mighthave been going, it's gone." She glanced at the clock which readtwelve-fifteen.

  And then, of a sudden, all thought of the other girl and her affairs wasblotted out by a resolve she had made that very morning. This was Friday.Day after to-morrow was Christmas. She wanted a surprise on Christmas.She had started to tell Lucile about it that morning, but while just inthe middle of the story the elevator had reached the Book Department andLucile had hurried away. Soon after came the strange experience ofmeeting her double and Florence had quite forgotten all about it untilthis very minute.

  "Have to provide my own surprise," she said to herself, while thinking itthrough. "But how am I to surprise myself?"

  This had taken a great deal of thinking, but in the end she hit upon thevery thing. Her old travelling bag had gone completely to pieces on herlast trip. Her father had sent her fifteen dollars for the purchase of anew one. She had the money still. She would buy a travelling bag with asurprise in it.

  Only a few days before, a friend had told her how this might be done.Every great hotel has in its store room a great deal of baggage which noone claims; such as hat boxes, trunks, bags and bundles. Someone leaveshis baggage as security for a bill. He does not return. Someone leaveshis trunk in storage. He too disappears. Someone dies. In time all thisbaggage is sold at an auctioneer's place to the highest bidders. Theyhave all been sealed when placed in the store room, and here they are,trunks, bundles and bags, all to be sold with "contents if any."

  "With contents if any." Florence had read that sentence over many timesas she finished scanning the notice of an auction that was to be heldthat very afternoon and night.

  "With contents if any," that was where her surprise was to come in. Shewould pick out a good bag that had a woman's name on it, or one that atleast looked as if a woman had owned it, and she would bid it in. Thenthe bag would be hers, and the "contents if any." She thrilled at thethought. Her friend had told of diamond rings, of gold watches, of astring of pearls, of silks and satins and silver jewel boxes that hadcome from these mysterious sealed bags and trunks.

  "Of course," Florence assured herself, "there won't be anything like thatin my bag, but anyway there'll be a surprise. What fun it will be, on mybirthday, to turn the key to the bag and to peep inside.

  "I know the afternoon is going to drag terribly. I do wish I could gonow," she sighed, "but I can't. I do hope they don't sell all the nicebags before I get there."

  With this she rose from the table, paid her check and went back to herelevator, still wondering about her mysterious double and still dreamingof her birthday surprise.