Part 32 (1/2)

”I can't say I have,” answered the landlady.

”That is singular. We were always very intimate. We attended the same school as boys, and, in fact, were like Damon and Pythias.”

Mrs. Flagg had never heard of Damon and Pythias, still she understood the comparison.

”You're in rather a different line now,” she remarked, dryly.

”Yes, our positions are different. My friend dwells in the busy metropolis, while I pa.s.s a quiet, peaceful existence in a secluded country village, doing what good I can. But, my dear, we are perhaps detaining this worthy lady from her domestic avocations. I think we must be going.”

”Very well, I am ready.”

The first sound of her voice drew the attention of the landlady. Mrs.

Felix Montgomery possessed a thin somewhat shrill, voice, which she was unable to conceal, and, looking attentively at her, Mrs. Flagg penetrated her disguise. Then, turning quickly to the gentleman, aided by her new discovery, she also recognized him.

”Well, I declare,” said she, ”if you didn't take me in beautifully.”

Mr. Montgomery laughed heartily.

”You wouldn't know me, then?” he said.

”You're got up excellent,” said Mrs. Flagg, with a slight disregard for grammar. ”Is it a joke?”

”Yes, a little practical joke. We're going to call on some friends and see if they know us.”

”You'd do for the theatre,” said the landlady, admiringly.

”I flatter myself I might have done something on the stage, if my attention had been turned that way. But, my dear, we must be moving, or we shan't get through our calls.”

”I wonder what mischief they are up to now,” thought Mrs. Flagg, as she followed them to the door. ”I know better than to think they'd take the trouble to dress up that way just to take in their friends. No, they're up to some game. Not that I care, as long as they get money enough to pay my bill.”

So the worldly-wise landlady dismissed them from her thoughts, and went about her work.

Mr. Barnes and his wife walked up toward Broadway at a slow, decorous pace, suited to the character they had a.s.sumed. More than one who met them turned back to look at what they considered a perfect type of the country minister and his wife. They would have been not a little surprised to learn that under this quiet garb walked two of the most accomplished swindlers in a city abounding in adventurers of all kinds.

Mr. Barnes paused a moment to reprove a couple of urchins who were pitching pennies on the sidewalk.

”Don't you know that it's wrong to pitch pennies?” he said gravely.

”None of your chaff, mister,” retorted one of the street boys, irreverently. ”When did you come from the country, old Goggles?”

”My son, you should address me with more respect.”

”Just get out of the way, mister! I don't want to hear no preachin'.”

”I am afraid you have been badly brought up, my son.”

”I ain't your son, and I wouldn't be for a s.h.i.+llin'. Just you go along, and let me alone!”

”A sad case of depravity, my dear,” remarked Mr. Barnes to his wife. ”I fear we must leave these boys to their evil ways.”