CHAPTER VIII.

  SOMETHING ABOUT THE MODEL

  Deb grew anxious when seven o'clock came and Jack did not put in anappearance. Under ordinary circumstances, she would not have minded it,but the events of the past two days combined to make her worry more thanusual. She sat by the window, watching the stream of people returningfrom work, and then, when it was half after the hour, put on her hat anddescended to the street below.

  She walked slowly in the direction of the Redrock road, in hope ofmeeting her brother. At the end of three blocks, she came face to facewith Mont Gray, who had just been finishing up some accounts at the toolworks.

  "Where are you going, may I ask?" he said, with a smile.

  "To meet Jack," replied Deb. "He ought to be home by this time."

  "Perhaps the work took longer than he expected," observed the young man."You know he hates to leave a job until it's done."

  "Oh, I know that. But I wish he would come, anyway; I can't bear tohave him away now."

  "Depend upon it, he can take good care of himself," added Mont. "Come,shall I walk home with you?"

  "I suppose I might as well go," returned the girl, slowly, and turnedback. "Oh, I'm so awfully nervous," she added.

  "Your troubles have been too much for you," he answered, kindly. "Theywould have been for almost any one."

  Though Mont's capital was, as we know, rather limited, he was anxious tohelp Deb and Jack all he could. Yet he hardly knew how to broach thesubject.

  "Did you--did Mr. Hammerby call again?" he asked, hesitatingly.

  "Yes, and gave us a three days' notice to quit," replied the girl."He----"

  "He shall not put you out!" exclaimed the young man, vehemently. "It'san outrage! It's bad enough for my uncle to believe your brotherguilty, but to put you out----"

  "But we are not going," continued Deb.

  "I don't blame you. If I can help you----?" he began.

  "No, you don't understand," returned Deb, quickly. "It's real good ofyou to offer help, but we don't need it," and she told him of the moneyMr. Benton was to pay over on the following morning.

  "I'm glad to hear you're going to get some cash out of that man,"remarked Mont. "Although even so, he made a sharp bargain with Jack."

  A few minutes later they reached the house.

  "Will you come up?" asked Deb.

  "I haven't time," he replied. "I've got to do an errand for my uncle.Maybe afterward, if I have a chance I'll take a look for Jack, and comeup with him."

  "Oh, I wish you would," she returned, "I know it's dreadfully silly forme to be so easily worried, but I can't help it."

  "Oh, it's all right, I suppose. If I was in his place maybe I'd like tobe worried about, too," and away went Mont, whistling quite a merry air.

  The young girl entered the kitchen and lit the lamp. It was nowhalf-past eight, and as the people of the neighborhood were hardworkers. who retired early, the streets were comparatively quiet.

  She left the supper dishes upon the table, and putting some extra coalinto the stove, set the tea and other things so that they might keepwarm.

  It was a dreary evening for her. She did not care much to read--actuallife interested her far more than books--and now all her thoughts werecentered on Jack.

  "It's a pretty long walk from that farmer's place," she kept saying toherself. "But he will come soon, oh, he must come soon."

  Her reflections were broken by hearing an unknown step upon the stairs,followed by a sharp rap at the door.

  Hardly knowing whom to expect at this hour of the night, she bade theperson enter.

  The newcomer was Dennis Corrigan!

  Deb did not know the man. She had seen him on the streets, but thoughhe was fairly well dressed, she was not taken by his general appearance.

  "Does Jack Willington live here?" asked Corrigan, with a hasty glancearound the kitchen, to see who might be present.

  "Yes, sir," replied Deb, and then realizing that the man might have newsfor her, she continued quickly: "Did he send you?"

  "Yes, Miss. He said I was to get a model that he had here."

  This assertion surprised the girl. What in the world could Jack wantwith his model this time of night?

  "Where is my brother?" she asked.

  Corrigan was not prepared to answer this question.

  "He is--down the street," he stammered.

  "Where?"

  "Why--down in McGlory's saloon."

  This reply was a fatal blunder for Corrigan, who by a little scheme ofhis own, had proposed to get the model into his possession without anydifficulty.

  "In McGlory's saloon!" repeated Deb, in amazement. "Why, Jack doesn'tdrink."

  "Oh, yes, he does--once in a while," replied Corrigan, glibly.

  "You're mistaken!" returned Deb, sharply. "What does he want the modelfor?"

  She was growing a trifle suspicious. The article in question wasvaluable, and just now doubly so.

  "I don't know what he's going to do with it. Got it handy?"

  Involuntarily Deb glanced over to where the model stood covered with acloth. She regretted the action an instant after, for Corrigan's eyeswatched her closely.

  "How far is that saloon from here?" she asked.

  "Only a few blocks."

  "Queer he didn't come for it himself."

  "He was too busy. He asked me to go for him, and sent this paper as anorder. He said you'd know all about it," replied Corrigan, and hehanded out the agreement he had stolen from Jack.

  Deb recognized the paper at once. Jack must certainly have given it tothe man, and yet, for a reason she could not explain, she felt that allwas not right.

  One thing she remembered; her brother had repeatedly cautioned her notto let outsiders examine the model under any plea. To place it,therefore, in a stranger's hands seemed a risk she did not care toassume.

  "What's the matter?" asked Corrigan, as Deb still hesitated. "Ain't itall right?"

  He was growing uneasy, fearful of being interrupted just at the momentwhen the prize was almost within his grasp.

  "I would rather have my brother come for it himself," said the girlfinally.

  "He can't come; he's too busy," persisted the intruder.

  "It wouldn't take long to get it if he is only a few blocks away."

  "Yes, but he doesn't want to leave. He has a chance of selling it to aman for big money, and he's afraid the man may back out if he leaveshim."

  Deb was sorely perplexed. The man might be speaking the truth, in whichcase she did not for the world wish Jack to lose the chance of strikinga bargain.

  "So I'll take it right along at once," continued Corrigan, stepping overto where the model stood.

  But, at this instant, a bright idea came into the girl's head. She knewthat she could trust Mr. Snitzer, or one of his sons, and was sure thatany one of them would do her a favor willingly.

  "You need not take so much trouble," she exclaimed, stepping between theman and the model. "Just leave the address of the place, and I will sendit up at once."

  This was a staggerer for Corrigan, and he knew not how to answer.

  "No, I'll take it myself," he replied, roughly.

  His words sent a dreadful chill to Deb's heart. In an instant sherealized the man's true object, and her own helpless condition.

  "What do you mean?" she cried in terror.

  "I mean that if you won't give me the model I'll take it."

  The words had hardly been uttered before Deb gave a terrible scream.

  "Stop your noise!" hissed Corrigan, jumping to her side, and clappinghis hand over her mouth.

  The girl struggled to escape, but she was as a feather in this powerfulfellow's arms, and half fainting, she felt herself borne into the nextroom, and the door locked upon her.

  Then she heard Corrigan pick up the model, and hurry down the stairs andout of the house.

 
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