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SQL Server
Analytical
Toolkit
Using Windowing, Analytical, Ranking,
and Aggregate Functions for Data and
Statistical Analysis
—
Angelo Bobak
SQL Server Analytical
Toolkit
Using Windowing, Analytical,
Ranking, and Aggregate Functions
for Data and Statistical Analysis
Angelo Bobak
SQL Server Analytical Toolkit: Using Windowing, Analytical, Ranking, and Aggregate
Functions for Data and Statistical Analysis
Angelo Bobak
Hastings On Hudson, NY, USA
v
Table of Contents
vi
Table of Contents
vii
Table of Contents
viii
Table of Contents
ix
Table of Contents
x
Table of Contents
xiii
Table of Contents
Index������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 1035
xiv
About the Author
Angelo R. Bobak is a published author with more than three
decades of experience and expertise in the areas of business
intelligence, data architecture, data warehouse design, data
modeling, master data management, and data quality using
the Microsoft BI Stack across several industry sectors such as
finance, telecommunications, engineering, publishing, and
automotive.
xv
About the Technical Reviewer
Alicia Moniz is a leader in Data & AI at Microsoft, an
organizer for Global AI Bootcamp – Houston Edition, and
a #KafkaOnAzure Evangelista and prior was a three-time
Microsoft AI MVP. She is an active supporter of women in
technology and volunteers her time at events that help make
AI technology accessible to the masses. She is a co-author of
the Apress publication Beginning Azure Cognitive Services:
Data-Driven Decision Making Through Artificial Intelligence
along with fellow Microsoft MVPs Matt Gordon, Ida Bergum,
Mia Chang, and Ginger Grant. With over 14 years of experience in data warehousing
and advanced analytics, Alicia is constantly upskilling and holds more than 12 in-
demand IT certifications including AWS, Azure, and Kafka. She is active in the Microsoft
User Group community and enjoys speaking on AI, SQL Server, #KafkaOnAzure, and
personal branding for women in technology topics. Currently, she authors the blog
HybridDataLakes.com, a blog focused on cloud data learning resources, and produces
content for the YouTube channel #KafkaOnAzure.
xvii
Introduction
Welcome to my book, SQL Server Analytical Toolkit.
What’s this book about?
This is a book on applying Microsoft SQL Server aggregate, analytical, and ranking
functions across various industries for the purpose of statistical, reporting, analytical,
and historical performance analysis using a series of built-in SQL Server functions
affectionately known as the window functions!
No, not window functions like the ones used in the C# or other Microsoft Windows
application programming. They are called window functions because they implement
windows into the data set generated by a query. These windows allow you to control
where the functions are applied in the data by creating partitions in the query data set.
“What’s a partition?” you might ask. This is a key concept you need to understand to
get the most out of this book. Suppose you have a data set that has six rows for product
category A and six rows for product category B. Each row has a column that stores sales
values that you wish to analyze. The data set can be divided into two sections, one for
each product category. These are the partitions that the window functions use. You can
analyze each partition by applying the window functions (more on this in Chapter 1).
We will see that the window in each partition can be further divided into smaller
windows. The mechanism of a window frame allows you to control which rows in
the partition are submitted to the window function relative to the current row being
processed. For example, apply a function like the SUM() function to the current row being
processed and any prior rows in the partition to calculate running totals by month. Move
to the next row in the partition and it behaves the same.
The book focuses on applying these functions across four key industries: sales,
finance, engineering, and inventory control. I did this so that readers in these industries
can find something they are familiar with in their day-to-day job activities. Even if you
are not working across these industries, you can still benefit by learning the window
functions and seeing how they are applied.
Maybe you want to interview for a developer role in the finance sector? Or maybe
you work in engineering or telecommunications or you are a manufacturer of retail
products. This book will help you acquire some valuable skills that will help you pass the
job interview.
xix
Introduction
Although you could perform these functions with tools like Power BI, performing
these functions at the SQL level precalculates results and improves performance so that
reporting tools use precalculated data.
By the way, there are many books out there on SQL Server and window (or
windowing) functions. What’s so different about this book?
Approach
This book takes a cookbook approach. Not only are you shown how to use the functions,
but you are shown how to apply them across sales, finance, inventory control, and
engineering scenarios.
These functions are grouped into three categories, so for each industry use case we
look at, we will dedicate a chapter to each function category:
• Aggregate functions
• Analytical functions
• Ranking functions
For each function, a query is created and explained. Next, the results are examined
and analyzed.
Where applicable the results are used to generate some interesting graphs with
Microsoft Excel spreadsheets, like creating normal distribution charts for sales data.
Appendix A contains descriptions and syntax for these functions in case you are not
familiar with them, so feel free to examine them before diving into the book.
Key to mastering the concepts in this book is understanding what the OVER() clause
does. Chapter 1 starts off by defining what the OVER() clause is and how it is used with
the window functions.
Several diagrams clearly explain what data sets, partitions, and window frames are
and how they are key to using the window functions.
Each of the industries we identified earlier has three dedicated chapters, one for each
of the window function categories. Each chapter provides a specification for the query to be
written, the code to satisfy the specification, and then one or more figures to show the results.
The book is unique in that it goes beyond just showing how each function works; it
presents use case scenarios related to statistical analysis, data analysis, and BI (BI stands
for business intelligence by the way).
xx
Introduction
The book also makes available all code examples including code to create and load
each of the four databases via the publisher's Google website.
Lastly, just enough theory is included to introduce you to statistical analysis in case
you are not familiar with terms like standard deviation, mean, normal distribution, and
variance. These are important as they will supply you with valuable skills to support your
business users and enhance your skills portfolio. Hey, a little business theory can’t hurt!
Appendix B has a brief primer on statistics, so make sure to check it out in case these
topics are new to you. It discusses standard deviation, variance, normal distribution,
other statistical calculations, and bell curves.
Back to the window functions. These functions generate a lot of numerical data. It’s
great to generate numbers with decimal points but even more interesting to graph them
and understand what they mean. A picture is worth a thousand words. Seeing a graph
that shows sales decreasing month by month is certainly worth looking at and should
raise alarms!
You can also use the Excel spreadsheets to verify your results by using the
spreadsheets’ built-in functions to make sure they match the results of your queries.
Always test your data against a set of results known to be correct (you might just learn
a little bit about Microsoft Excel too!). The spreadsheets used in this book will also be
available on the publisher's Google website.
The book includes tips and discussions that will take you through the process of
learning the SQL Server aggregate, ranking, and analytical functions. These are delivered
in a step-by-step approach so you can easily master the concepts. Data results are
analyzed so that you can understand what the function does and how the windows are
used to analyze the data work.
Expectations
Now that you know what you are in for, what do I expect from you?
Not much really, at a high level.
I expect you to be an intermediate to advanced SQL Server developer or data
architect who needs to learn how to use window functions. You can write medium-
complexity queries that use joins, understand what a CTE (common table expression) is,
and be able to create and load database tables.
You could also be a tech-savvy business analyst who needs to apply sophisticated
data analysis for your business users or clients.
xxi
Introduction
Lastly, you could be a technology manager who wants to understand what your
development team does in their roles as developers. All will benefit from this book.
In conclusion, you need
In case you do not know how to use SSMS, there are many excellent YouTube videos
and sites that can show you how to use this tool in a short amount of time.
You can also check out my podcast “GRUMPY PODCAST 01 NAVIGATING SSMS” at
www.grumpyolditguy.com under the TSQL Podcasts menu selection in the menu bar.
Note You can download the code from the publisher’s Google website at
https://github.com/Apress/SQL-Server-Analytical-Toolkit.
xxii
Introduction
Very simple and easy to read. It is clear by the names used that the query retrieves
departmental information, specifically the department identifier, the manager identifier,
and the manager’s last name. Notice the name of the table. There is no doubt as to what
the table contains.
That’s it! Let’s begin our journey into window functions.
xxiii
CHAPTER 1
1
© Angelo Bobak 2023
A. Bobak, SQL Server Analytical Toolkit, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-1-4842-8667-8_1
Chapter 1 Partitions, Frames, and the OVER( ) Clause
data set can also be a partition by itself, and a window can be defined that uses all rows
in the single partition. It all depends on how you include and define the PARTITION BY,
ORDER BY, and ROWS/RANGE window frame clauses.
These conditions can be specified with the OVER() clause. Let’s see how this works.
• Seven years later, aggregate functions with support for the ORDER BY
clause were introduced in 2012.
• Support for window frames (which we will discuss shortly) was also
introduced in 2012.
2
Chapter 1 Partitions, Frames, and the OVER( ) Clause
The capability of the window functions has grown over the years and delivers a rich
and powerful set of tools to analyze and solve complex data analysis problems.
Each of the subsequent chapters will create and discuss queries for these categories
for four industry-specific databases that are in scope for this book. Please refer to
Appendix A for syntax and descriptions of what each of the preceding functions does if
you are unfamiliar with them or need a refresher on how to use them in a query.
3
Chapter 1 Partitions, Frames, and the OVER( ) Clause
SELECT OrderYear,OrderMonth,SalesAmount,
SUM(SalesAmount) OVER(
PARTITION BY OrderYear
ORDER BY OrderMonth ASC
ROWS BETWEEN UNBOUNDED PRECEDING AND CURRENT ROW
) AS AmountTotal
FROM OverExample
ORDER BY OrderYear,OrderMonth
GO
Between a set of parentheses after the OVER keyword, three other clauses can be
included such as PARTITION BY, ORDER BY, and ROWS or RANGE clauses (to define the
window frame that presents the rows to the function for processing).
Even if you have an ORDER BY clause in the OVER() clause, you can also include the
usual ORDER BY clause at the end of the query to sort the final processed result set in any
order you feel is appropriate to the business requirements the query solves.
Syntax
The following are three basic syntax templates that can be used with the window
functions. Reading these syntax templates is easy. Just keep in mind keywords between
square brackets mean they are optional. The following is the first syntax template
available for the OVER() clause:
Syntax 1
Most of the window functions use this first syntax, and it is composed of three
main clauses, the PARTITION BY clause, the ORDER BY clause, and a ROWS or RANGE
specification. You can include one or more of these clauses or none. These combinations
will affect how the partition is defined. For example, if you do not include a PARTITION
BY clause, the entire data set is considered a one large partition. The expression is usually
one or more columns, but in the case of the PARTITION BY and ORDER BY clauses, it could
also be a subquery (refer to Appendix A).
The Window Function is one of the functions identified in Table 1-1.
This first syntax is pretty much the same for all functions except for the
PERCENTILE_DISC() and PERCENTILE_CONT() functions that use a slight variation:
Syntax 2
These functions are used to calculate the percentile discrete and percentile
continuous values in a data set column. The numeric literal can be a value like .25, .50,
or .75 that is used to specify the percentile you wish to calculate. Notice that the ORDER
BY clause is inserted between the parentheses of the WITHIN GROUP command and the
OVER() clause just includes the PARTITION BY clause.
Don’t worry about what this does for now. Examples will be given that make the
behavior of this code clear. For now, just understand that there are three basic syntax
templates to be aware of.
In our chapter examples, the expression will usually be a column or columns
separated by commas although you can use other data objects like queries. Please
refer to the Microsoft SQL Server documentation to check out the detailed syntax
specification or Appendix A.
Lastly, our third syntax template applies to SQL Server 2022 (release 16.x). The
window capability has been enhanced that allows you to specify window options in a
named window that appears at the end of the query:
Syntax 3
As of this writing, SQL Server 2022 is available for evaluation only. In Listing 1-2 is an
example TSQL query that uses this new feature.
SELECT OrderYear,OrderMonth,SalesAmount,
SUM(SalesAmount) OVER SalesWindow AS SQPRangeUPCR
FROM OverExample
WINDOW SalesWindow AS (
PARTITION BY OrderYear
ORDER BY OrderMonth
RANGE BETWEEN UNBOUNDED PRECEDING AND CURRENT ROW
);
GO
The name of the window is SalesWindow, and it is used right after the OVER operator
instead of the PARTITION BY, ORDER BY, and RANGE clauses as used in the first syntax
template we discussed.
Probably a good feature in case you have multiple window functions in your SELECT
clause that need to use this partition and window frame configuration. This would avoid
repeating the partition code in each column of the SELECT clause.
The PARTITION BY, ORDER BY, and RANGE clauses are declared at the end of the
query between parentheses after the WINDOW keyword instead of right after the OVER
keyword.
If you want to play around with this, download and install the 2022 evaluation
license and try it out on the example code available with the book or on your own
queries. The setup and download are fast and simple. Make sure you get the latest
version of SSMS. These are available on Microsoft’s download website.
A picture is worth a thousand words, so let’s look at one now. Please refer to
Figure 1-1.
Figure 1-1. A simple data set with three partitions and an example frame
Here we have a simple data set composed of eight rows. There are three example
partitions in this data set. One can include all eight rows of the data set; the other two
include rows identified by the TYPE column. There are only two type values, type A and
type B, so each of these partitions will have four rows. By the way, you cannot include
multiple PARTITION BY clauses in an OVER() clause.
You can define only one partition per OVER() clause although you can have more
than one column in the SELECT clause of the query that uses a partition. You can specify
different column combinations to define the partitions.
Where the power of this architecture comes in is that we can create smaller window
frames against the partition by using the ROWS or RANGE operator. These will allow you to
specify how many rows before and/or after the current row being processed will be used
by the window function.
7
Chapter 1 Partitions, Frames, and the OVER( ) Clause
In our preceding example snapshot, the current row is row 3, and the window frame
is defined so it includes only the prior row, the current row, and the next row relative
to the current row. If we apply the SUM() function to this window frame and add all the
values, we get the result 60 (15 + 20 + 25). (Remember this is within the first partition,
which contains only four rows.)
If processing continues on the next row, row 4, only rows 3 and 4 are available to
the SUM() function, and the result is 45 (20 + 25). I neglected to mention that if we start
at row 1, then only rows 1 and 2 are available to the SUM()function because there is no
prior row. The function returns the value 25 (10 + 15).
How do we control this type of processing? All we need to do is add a ROWS or RANGE
specification to the query if required. We could also include an ORDER BY clause to
specify how to order the rows within the partition so that the window function is applied
as needed. For example, generate rolling totals by month, starting of course at month 1
(January) and ending at month 12 (December).
Sounds easy, but we need to be aware of a few scenarios around default processing
when we leave the ORDER BY clause and/or the PARTITION clause out. We will discuss
these shortly.
8
Chapter 1 Partitions, Frames, and the OVER( ) Clause
This clause tells the function to operate on the current row and all rows preceding
the current row if there are any in the partition. A simple diagram in Figure 1-2 makes it
all clear.
Figure 1-2. Include the current row and all preceding rows
If we start at row 1, since there are no prior rows in the partition before this row, the
SUM() function returns the value 10.
Moving on to row 2, the SUM() function will include the only available prior row
(row 1), so the result is 25 (10 + 15).
Next (shown in the preceding figure), the current row to be processed is row 3. The
SUM() function will evaluate row 3 plus rows 1 and 2 in order to generate the total. The
result is 45 (10 + 15 + 20).
Lastly, moving to row 4, the function will include the current row and all prior rows
in its calculation and return 70 (10 + 15 + 20 + 25). Processing now concludes for this
partition.
Moving to partition B, the processing repeats itself, and only rows from partition B
are included. All rows in partition A are ignored.
9
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
Had Major Simpson realized the little artist was regarding him in
“that bony light” no doubt he would have refused to let his cravats
hang over the cupid covered rolling pin, but he merely counted her
as one of the many lovely ladies who did him homage at the Maison
Blanche, listening to his stories and applauding his cleverness.
“Burnett & Burnett could hardly get along without you,” murmured
Miss Willie, thinking of herself as cruel even to imagine the efficient
righthand man of the department store as carved on a tombstone.
“Well, they won’t have to. I could retire to-morrow if I chose, but the
work of a detective is so engrossing that once one has engaged in it,
it is impossible to relinquish it.”
“Have you always been one?” asked the sweet young thing.
“Not officially—but at heart, always.”
“I wonder you did not get in Government Secret Service. You would
have been invaluable,” cooed one of the ladies.
“Ahem! Yes, but Burnett & Burnett needed me.”
“Of course—but how noble of you to stay in Wakely when the logical
place for you to be was Washington,” declared Miss Willie. Then she
asked vaguely: “Do they bury Secret Service agents in Arlington?”
Nobody knew, so nobody answered, and Miss Willie blushed
furiously, fearing that Major Simpson might guess the foolish thing
that was in her mind when she asked the seemingly inconsequent
question. Miss Willie had a way of breaking into a conversation
following her own train of thought rather than the subject under
discussion, and the guests at Maison Blanche were accustomed to
her peculiarity and paid little attention to it. One solemn looking old
lady, who said little but missed nothing, gave a deep gurgling
chuckle. This old lady’s name was Mrs. Trescott. She had occupied a
small back bedroom at Mrs. Celeste Waite’s for as many years as
Major Simpson had occupied the large front one.
Mrs. Trescott’s chuckle was fortunately drowned by the dinner gong.
The boarders trooped in and fell on the purree de pois with the
same gusto they would have employed had it been called plain pea
soup. As soon as the first pangs of hunger were satisfied the
conversation of the parlor was resumed.
“But, Major Simpson, you haven’t told us what this naughty girl looks
like,” said one of the ladies. “Of course she is beautiful and charming
and very chic.”
“No, I don’t think she is any of these things,” said the Major. “She is
quite insignificant looking and her clothes are not of the latest style,
though they are of very rich material. Her shoes are quite good and
she is intellectual and well educated; speaks French with a good
accent and reads Greek. Those high-brow crooks are the worst of all
and the hardest to catch.”
“Boeuf a la mode to-day,” said Mrs. White by way of informing the
assembled company that French with an accent was eaten at her
table if not spoken. And one of the young men at the far end of the
room said in a hoarse whisper:
“That means biled beef.” But Mrs. Celeste White never heard
anything she did not want to hear.
There were three persons at Maison Blanche that might have been
called thorns in the flesh or flies in the amber. They were two
frivolous young men and one young woman who utterly refused to
play the game of its being a French pension and who openly made
game of Major Simpson, calling him Sherlocko and asking him where
Dr. Watsonia was. They had all their fun to themselves, however, as
the other inmates loved to look upon their dinner as table d’hote and
were sure that Major Simpson in flesh and blood was much cleverer
than Conan Doyle’s fictitious detective. Mrs. Trescott was the only
person who derived any amusement from the bad manners of the
three young persons and she could not help giving her famous
gurgling chuckle when any of their witty remarks touched her
risibles.
“Did you say pois meant cat?” one of the men asked.
“No, peas! Why?” from the girl.
“Oh, I thought it must mean cat or maybe kitten because it’s called
purry and it sure does purr as it is taken in out of the cold. Listen!”
Everybody involuntarily stopped eating and listened except one deaf
old lady who was drinking her pea soup with such gusto that the
noise she made did sound ridiculously like the purring of a cat.
Mrs. Trescott chuckled and the three naughty ones giggled.
“Oh, Mrs. White, you should hear the thrilling things Major Simpson
has been telling us about a wicked shoplifter at Burnett & Burnett’s,”
said one of the ladies as the soup dishes were removed and there
was a lull in the business of eating.
“Shoplifter?” asked one of the young men known as Jimmy Blaine.
Jimmy was a cub reporter on a morning paper and his life was lived
with his ear cocked for news. “Do tell us about it Sher—Major
Simpson.”
The Major, forgetting all about Jimmy’s profession and glad of the
chance to entertain a new audience, one that had heretofore been a
scoffing one, plunged again into the tale of how he had run down
Josie O’Gorman to her lair. He waxed eloquent over the account of
Mrs. Leslie and her doughnuts and coffee, even mentioning the pink
parasol he had given that lady in her childhood.
“And now all we have to do is round up the whole gang through this
slip of a girl. She thinks she is clever but she is no match for
Sylvester Simpson.” The Major sat back and beamed on his listeners,
visibly swelling with pride.
“Hope he don’t bust on me,” Jimmy’s side partner, Kit Williams,
whispered to the naughty young woman who was always ready to
giggle.
“Tell us the name of this awful young person,” begged Jimmy.
“Oh no, young man! When you get to be as old as I am and as
experienced you will realize that one mustn’t tell names and tales
too.”
At this juncture Aunt Maria poked her head in the dining room door
and announced:
“Miss Celeste, Major Simpson’s phone air a ringin’ lak sompen wa’ on
fiah. I’d go up an’ answer it myse’f if it would do any good—but
when folks wants Major Simpson they wants him an’ I reckon they
couldn’t use no substerchute.”
“Ah, no doubt a development!” said the Major as he hurried to his
room to quiet the persistent ringing of the telephone bell.
He returned before the next course of the table d’hote was served.
His genial pink face was beaming and like Kilmansegg, father of the
immortal one of the golden leg:
“Seem’d washing his hands with invisible soap
In imperceptible water.”
“Just as I said—a development,” he declared. “It was Mr. Theodore
Burnett on the telephone. He informs me that the articles, purloined
from his establishment this forenoon, have been returned.”
“Oh, how thrilling! Did he say by whom?” asked the coy one.
“That was not necessary. I did not even ask him who returned them.
I knew.”
CHAPTER XIII
JIMMY BLAINE GETS A SCOOP
There were two morning newspapers in Wakely; one pink and one
yellow. On week mornings half of the town read the pink journal and
the other half the yellow one. On Sunday mornings the whole town
read both. Jimmy Blaine worked for the yellow one.
It was Jimmy Blaine’s regular business to go out on any consignment
the powers that be might send him. It was his irregular business to
make news if there was no news, thereby adding to his fame and
bulging out his weekly pay envelope. While the Major was telling his
tale Mrs. Trescott was the only one to notice how shiny Jimmy’s eyes
were and how quick and almost feverish was his breathing. Before
the last course was served Jimmy jumped from his seat.
“’S’cuse me, but I must be a-hustling. No, Miss Celeste, no souffle
aux pruneaux for me this evening,” in answer to the hostess’s proffer
of prune whip. “S’long everybody! See you in the morning.” Jimmy
was gone.
Several chuckles bubbled up from the depths of Mrs. Trescott’s satin
bodice. That evening, when Mrs. Trescott made her usual weekly
pilgrimage to the kitchen to speak to Aunt Maria and slip her the
customary Saturday night tip she gave her an extra five cents,
commissioning her to purchase the Sunday morning yellow journal
for her.
“Moughty ’stravagant Mis’ Trescott when they’s allus pufectly good
Sunday papers a goin’ ter waste ’roun’ here. All you is got ter do is
jes’ wait a while. Major Simpson has one, an’ Miss Celeste has one
an’ Mr. Jimmy Blaine is mo’n apt ter have two or three. I allus say
’taint no trouble ter start Monday mornin’ fiah at this here Mason
Bluemange. If you want ter save yo’ nickel I’ll see that you gits the
very fust paper that anybody gits through with.”
“That’s very kind, Maria, but I want one all to myself to-morrow
morning, and want it before anybody has pawed over it and mixed it
up. I have an idea there will be something of especial interest to
me.”
Mrs. Trescott was right. Jimmy Blaine had not foregone the
pleasures of prune whip for nothing. He had rushed pell mell to the
office and frantically pounded out on an extra typewriter the whole
story of Major Simpson and the shoplifter. He had named no names,
thereby carefully sidestepping any chance for a libel suit, but he had
so accurately described Burnett & Burnett’s that the whole of Wakely
could but guess the department store mentioned in the story. The
stage setting was realistic, the local color perfect, but the young
journalist had let his fancy run riot where description of characters
were concerned.
Mrs. Trescott received her private Sunday morning newspaper,
literally damp from the press. Aunt Maria was what she called “an
early stirrer”, and the first newsboy that shouted his wares in the
neighborhood of Maison Blanche was nabbed and made to deliver by
the intrepid old cook, who patiently climbed the two flights of steps
to Mrs. Trescott’s third-floor-back hall bedroom and poked the paper
in her door.
“Here you am, Mis Trescott, an’ a cup er cawfy ter tide you over
come brekfus time. You mus’ be ’spectin’ of some funeral notice ter
make you so besirous of a private paper.”
Aunt Maria well knew that Mrs. Trescott had to watch her pennies
very closely and the extravagance of five cents spent for first peep
at a newspaper could mean little short of a death and a funeral.
“Perhaps!” chuckled the lady, “but I’ll come read the news to you
after while, Maria. I am more than obliged to you for your kindness.
No doubt the coffee will help me bear up,” and then the old lady
gave another deep soul-satisfying gurgle as she unfolded the damp
newspaper and ran her eyes eagerly over the news columns.
There it was, just as she knew it would be, but better, so much
better!
“Oh, the rascal, the young rascal! He has made a romance of that
old fool Major’s finding the widow from his own part of the country
and her helping him to track the criminal. He even has in the
doughnuts and coffee and the pink parasol.”
It might be said that Mrs. Trescott stopped chuckling and chortled.
What difference did it make if one was poor and old and condemned
to spend one’s days in a third-floor-back hall bedroom if one had a
sense of humor equal to Mrs. Trescott’s. Her humor was the type
that needed no second person with whom to enjoy the
ridiculousnesses of life. Her solemn countenance gave no inkling to
the outside world of the riot of fun going on within. The gurgling
laughter that sought an outlet was to the uninitiated no more
mirthful than the bubble of air arising from an old submerged mud
turtle, appearing on the surface of the water and breaking.
“I’d like to hear what the Burnetts have to say this morning,” she
gasped. “Oh, that will be unprintable I am sure, but our Jimmy
Blaine could make copy of it nevertheless. And the little shoplifter—
no doubt she is happy at being put in the paper as beautiful beyond
compare, with a dark mysterious past that tugs against her better
nature—but the better nature prevails and she returns the stolen
goods. I wonder Jimmy did not announce an engagement between
her and Mr. Theodore Burnett. I think I’ll suggest it to him. A
suggestion is all that is necessary to our Jimmy. Oh, Jimmy, Jimmy!”
In the mean time Jimmy was sleeping the sleep of a cub reporter
happy over a scoop and the fact that he had cleared a neat little
sum on the extra columns of space he had filled so successfully. Kit
Williams, his friend and room mate, had seized on the early edition
Jimmie had brought home with him and his mirth was loud and lusty
over what Jimmy had done to the Major.
“Gee. Ain’t he the kid?” he cried. “I could kiss him where he sleeps if
he wasn’t so unshaved.”
“You try it,” muttered Jimmy sleepily, having come to life just enough
to hear Kit’s ravings. “You try it and you’ll never shave again.” He
then turned over and pulled the covers over his tousled head, hoping
to be lost to the world until dinner time, breakfast offering no
inducements to one who had been up all night making news for the
greedy public.
Miss Willie Watts was greatly excited over the article. It seemed to
her very astonishing that the “paper” should know so much about
something that had only just happened. At first she did not connect
Jimmy Blaine with the story but when she did all she could say was:
“But how did he know so much about the appearance of the poor
wicked shoplifter when Major Simpson did not tell him any more
than he did me? And how did he know the widow was handsome
and dashing, the one who made the doughnuts and coffee? Major
Simpson never said so in so many words. Ah me! All widows are
handsome and dashing, it seems. I wonder if this won’t make the
poor Major sick. I hope he won’t die—” and then she began
dreaming of his tombstone and how it would look:
“Major Sylvester Simpson, beloved husband of Wilhelmina—” etc.
Mrs. Celeste White read the story and thought Jimmy was pretty
clever but wished he had mentioned that the doughty hero lived at
Maison Blanche.
“A very good chance for some free advertising and I might just as
well have had it,” she grumbled. “Young people seem never to think
of such things.”
The Major read the whole paper before he came to the part of the
magazine section which carried his story. It was his custom to have
breakfast in his room on Sunday morning so that he might take his
ease before making the elaborate toilet he felt to be necessary for
one whose duty and pleasure it was to pass the plate in church.
“What’s this? What’s this?” he cried, glaring excitedly at Jimmy’s lurid
headlines. “Story of Seductive Shoplifter—dashing widow—
doughnuts and coffee—pink parasol—reunited after years of sad
separation—Ahem—handsome detective—Tracked to her lair shop
girl returns purloined articles! All will be forgiven and beautiful
maiden will continue her labor at large department store so popular
in the city of Wakely. Of course her identity will remain a secret—no
person but the wily detective and the generous employer being
aware of her identity.” The poor man groaned aloud and let his
second cup of coffee get chilled.
“Who, who can have done this? Ah—that wretched Jimmy Blaine! I
forgot he was connected with the press. This vile sheet has always
disgusted me. I never intend to read it again,” and then the old
gentleman settled himself to con every word of Jimmy’s scoop. He
found it rather pleasant to be written up as handsome and gallant,
and the romance between himself and the Mrs. Leslie hinted at in
the article was on the whole quite gratifying.
“But the Burnetts! What will they think?” While no names were
mentioned there could be little doubt of the identity of the persons
in the story.
“Let them think what they choose,” was Major Simpson’s final
decision. “It is not for me, Sylvester Simpson, to account to the
young Burnetts for my method of tracking criminals.” And then he
proceeded to justify himself for having talked too freely before a cub
reporter and even persuaded himself that the publicity given the
shoplifting episode was a stroke of finesse that only a master mind,
such as his, would have been capable of originating.
“I can manage Charles,” he said to himself, “but I am not so sure of
Theodore. He is an opinionated youngster.”
In the mean time the “opinionated youngster” was doubled up with
laughter over the magazine section of the Sunday paper.
“Just when we thought we could put our hands on the criminals! Oh,
Major Simpson, Major Simpson, what a legacy our father and
grandfather left us in your portly person! And what will the little
O’Gorman say to this?”
What the little O’Gorman thought we may never know, but what she
said was:
“Oh, me, oh, my! As my father used to say; ‘The best laid schemes
of mice and men gang aft aglee.’”
She then betook herself to the quiet and peace of her own little
bedroom, there to work out a plan and incidentally to read a few
pages in her book of books, hoping her clever father might have left
some words of wisdom bearing more directly on misplaced publicity
than on the schemes of mice and men.
Mrs. Leslie’s indignation knew no bounds when she read what the
newspaper said about her.
“Dashing widow indeed! I never dashed in my life.”
“And certainly you never widded,” said Mary, trying not to laugh.
“But, dearest, you should be proud that your coffee and doughnuts
got into print, although anonymously. After all, nobody will know
whose they were unless you tell them.”
“You may be sure I’ll not do that. But one thing I am going to tell if I
have to do it with my dying breath: I shall tell Sylvester Simpson
that he is a pompous old idiot.”
CHAPTER XIV
THE QUARREL NEXT DOOR
Josie was right; the song of the frogs meant spring was on the way
—in the air—in the ground—in one’s bones. The Leslies’ apartment
was hot, hot to suffocation. The janitor, following in the footsteps of
most janitors, had made up an extra hot fire in the furnace because
it was Sunday and because it was a warm Sunday. When Josie
sought the quiet of her own room to escape the reiterated wailings
of Mrs. Leslie and to read her precious little book, she found the
atmosphere oppressively heavy. To escape it she raised her window
and leaned far out, drinking deep of the soft spring air. The little
back yard was showing signs of coming to life. A brave little daffodil
had poked a green nose up through the black earth and a foolish
peach tree actually had a few precocious buds on one of its slender
branches.
“They’ll be nipped and deserve to be,” thought Josie. “But I reckon
they can’t help it any more than I can resist almost falling out of the
window in search of air.”
Someone else was evidently of the same mind, as a window next to
the one from which Josie was leaning was raised with some
vehemence and an impatient voice, strangely familiar to Josie,
exclaimed:
“Gee, but it’s hot in this hole! I hate to think of summer’s coming.”
“And I—ah, how I long for warmth—” drawled a woman’s voice with
a foreign accent.
Josie decided it was the Kambourians—mother and son. Then a
goodnatured growl from the interior of the room gave evidence that
Papa Kambourian was not far off.
“Nom de Dieu—close the window, Roy! Do not you understand that
Mamma and I have air enough during the week days to last us over
the blessed Sabbath. That is the worst of these United States and all
who happen to be born here as were you, mon bon enfant—air
always air!”
“And I! How about me being shut up in a shop all week with a bunch
of silly girls, working like a dog—and when I do pull off a deal to
have Mamma fall down on her part? I can’t get over it—losing the
things.”
“Now, now, boy!” and the goodnatured growl bordered on anger.
“Let Mamma be! It was unavoidable. Has she not already wept
oceans of tears? What are a few yards of wretched lace and a bit
bauble of a gold bag to poor Mamma’s feelings? Let be, mon fils,
and try again. A few more hauls and we will have enough to set up a
small shop in the great metropolis.”
“Not for me! I’m through I tell you—through for good and all. I’m
sick of the whole wretched business. You and Mamma can keep on
being foreigners all you want but I’m an American boy—almost a
man—and I want to pull loose. I could make as much money
walking straight as I do crooked.” His voice rose angrily and Josie felt
that the boy was on the verge of tears in spite of his assertion that
he was almost a man.
“Shut the window!” roared the father. “Such foolish babble is enough
to start the whole neighborhood talking!”
“Now, now!” soothed the woman’s voice. “Don’t you and Papa
quarrel. I know my little Roy will not what you call pull out yet and
leave poor Mamma before she gets enough pretty things to start a
little boutique. Shut the window like a gentle boy because the air
may make Papa sick.”
“How can air make one sick who sits all day on a sidewalk?”
“And now you reproach poor Papa and Mamma because they sit all
day and sell the pencils and shoe strings and paperrs,” whined the
woman, though it was easy to grasp that the whine in her voice was
pure burlesque. “Was I made for such a life? No, I tell you, nevaire!”
At this juncture the window was closed with a vigorous slam and the
eavesdropper heard no more. She had heard quite enough however
to set her steady little heart a thumping.
“I am almost as big an idiot as my worthy brother in arms, Major
Simpson,” Josie took herself to task. “Anybody with a grain of sense
would have known all along what I had to open a window to find
out. Thank goodness for the over zealous janitor. I’ll give him a
generous tip to-morrow. But mercy on us, how carefully I must go
now. I can hardly trust myself not to burst in on the Leslies and tell
them the whole thing. One thing I know, I must call in help from the
police department, as much as I hate to get any clumsy folks mixed
up in this. I know what I’ll do—” She made a feverish dive for her
hat and jacket, and grabbing up her gloves rushed through the living
room, saying in passing:
“Expect me back when you see me but know that I am not running
off for more than an hour or so.”
“There now!” gasped Mrs. Leslie. “What a strange girl she is after all.
What do you think is the matter, Mary?”
“I think she has a clue and is following it up. All I am wondering is
where she got it in such a short time and if she will tell us all about
it later on. It is certainly interesting to have a person like Josie to
rent a room from us, isn’t it Mother?”
“I should say so; but I wish she wouldn’t be so sudden,” sighed Mrs.
Leslie. “I think she ought to tell me what her clue is because I am
sure I could help her.”
Mary smiled. She was not so sure. Up to the present her mother had
been more of a hinderance than a help to their little lodger. As for
suddenness; nobody could have been more sudden than that lady in
accepting without question the opinion of old Major Simpson merely
because he had come from her county and had presented her with a
pink parasol when she was quite a tiny girl.
To a clever girl like Josie, it was an easy matter to find out the name
of the reporter on the yellow journal who had spread himself so
lavishly on the shoplifting story. First to the newspaper office where,
it being a morning paper, the business of the day had not begun.
The office was open, however, and a janitor was lazily sweeping the
floor and grumbling because the one who took care of a daily
newspaper office had no Sunday to speak of. The man at a desk
agreed with him as did also the telephone girl whose business it was
to handle the private switchboard.
“May I speak with the city editor?” Josie asked meekly.
“Not in yet!” growled the man at the desk. “Anything I can do?”
“Oh, please, if you will be so kind—I want the name and address of
the reporter who had the shoplifting story in the paper this
morning.”
“Whatcher want with it? It’s against the policy of the paper to
divulge names and addresses. The management holds itself
responsible for all stories published in its columns and the
management has not come down yet.”
“I merely wanted to give the man a chance on another scoop, but
since you are evidently not desirous of scoops I’ll look up the other
paper.”
“How’s that? Scoop? Give it to me! I’ll get hold of Jimmy Blaine in a
minute. The truth of the matter is, young lady, I am the
management but it’s policy to keep it dark when anybody is on the
war path. I was afraid you were one of the wronged ladies in
Jimmy’s story—but I might have known you weren’t.”
“Well, if you can get hold of this Jimmy I’d be very much obliged.”
“What is the nature of your story? Anything like the one this
morning?”
“No, this one is a true story. There is mighty little that is true in the
scoop of the morning except perhaps the pink parasol and the
doughnuts. Would it be against the policy of the paper for you to
divulge just what part of the management you are?”
“Ahem! I am part owner and managing editor.”
“Then you’ll do, but please get this Jimmy here as fast as you can so
I can tell the tale to both of you at once and save time and breath.”
Jimmy Blaine was forced to uncover his head and listen to his room
mate.
“Boss wants you and wants you in a hurry. He says never mind
dolling up, but just come along. He’s on the phone now and Miss
Celeste says it must be important because he sounds so brisk.” Thus
spake Kit Williams, going through the operation on sodden Jimmy
known as “cold pigging”, that is, applying a wet sponge to a
sleeper’s face.
“Don’t hide! Get up and go to the phone,” insisted Kit as Jimmy
snuggled down in the bed clothes and again covered his tousled
head.
“Aw gee! Have a heart, cantcher? Don’t go joking me, Kit, that’s a
good boy.”
“Well then, lose your job if you want to. What’s it to me? You
blooming idiot, didn’t you hear me say that the boss himself is
hollerin’ for you. I reckon he’s got a mouthfull to say about that lurid
tale you pulled off in this morning’s paper.”
“He saw it before it went in,” growled Jimmy. “If there is any trouble
it is up to him. Ain’t he the management?”
“I thought that would wake you up. Now get up and put on your
dressing gown—here it is—here are your slippers. Never mind your
boudoir cap, just slip along to the phone.”
Jimmy meekly obeyed. There was no use in grumbling when one’s
boss was on the line.
“Hello!” he said in a voice as sweet as honey.
“Yes, sir! Yes, sir! Be right down. Don’t let her get away.”
“Breakfast? No sir! What’s breakfast! Never eat on Sunday, that is,
breakfast. Be down in a jiffy.”
It was a wide awake Jimmy who, after turning on a cold shower, tore
back to his room and began to throw on his clothes like a lightning
change vaudeville artist.
“So long, Kit, old fellow. Something big is up but I don’t know what.
It’s got something to do with Sherlocko Simpson, I think, but I’ll see
you later,” and the youngster was out on the street and running for a
trolley in less time than it would have taken the fire department to
answer an alarm.
CHAPTER XV
JOSIE SETS A TRAP
Jimmy Blaine did not now just what he was expecting but he knew it
was not a quiet, business-like young person like Josie who showed
no shyness and at the same time no brazenness, but with the
utmost composure stated the case and put it up to the management
whether or not it was worth while to pursue the scoop unearthed by
the cub reporter. As soon as Jimmy breezed in, all on fire for more
sensational news, Mr. Cox introduced him to the visitor. Josie gave
him a boyish handshake and then plunged into the matter in hand.
“In the first place I am a detective, Josie O’Gorman from Washington
and late of Dorfield. My father—”
“Not the O’Gorman!” from Mr. Cox.
“Yes,” beamed Josie. “I am here with Burnett & Burnett to catch the
shoplifters that have been busy lately.”
Jimmy surreptitiously produced a pencil and endeavored to get hold
of a linen cuff, but Josie stopped him:
“Please, Mr. Blaine, none of this is for publication as yet. You can get
the whole story in good time and it will be a good one I am sure. I
have come to the newspaper for help because in my experience the
live wires are on newspapers and not on the police force. I cannot
say for sure that the police of Wakely would bungle, but I can say
that the police of Dorfield would and have. My father believed in the
press as a great detective power and I have had more help from a
young newspaper man in Dorfield than all the police; in spite of the
fact that Chief Lonsdale of Dorfield is my very dear friend. But this
young Dulaney—”
“Not Bob Dulaney of the —th Regiment?” cried Jimmy.
“Yes—Bob Dulaney!”
“Gee! This is great! Shake again!” cried Jimmy. “I’ve spent many a
night lying in the mud near Bob, over there.”
“Then you know Danny Dexter, too?”
“Know him? Know him like a book! Why Danny was my Father
Confessor. Many a time he’s told me what’s what. You see, I was the
kid of the regiment and some of the fellows seemed to think it was
up to them to make me walk chalk. I walked it all right.”
“We’ve no doubt you did,” twinkled Mr. Cox.
“Well, Danny Dexter married my best friend; but that’s another story
and we’d better get back to business. Please let me say that I’m glad
I came to the newspaper for cooperation as I’m pretty sure a friend
of Bob Dulaney and Danny Dexter is going to be on the job and
deliver the goods,” said Josie.
Jimmy Blaine grinned happily, proud that his boss should hear him
praised through his friends.
Josie plunged into a recital of the Kambourians and how she had
been mystified by them from the moment she saw them on the
street that first Sunday in Wakely. She told of the baffling likeness
the youth had to someone she had seen before; of her finding board
in the same apartment house with them, by chance as it were; of
Miss Mary Leslie’s encounter with a beggar in the hallway and of her
identification of this beggar as the man whose habit it was to sit all
day at the front entrance of Burnett & Burnett’s. She then touched
on Major Simpson’s laughable mistake concerning her own character.
“He thinks I am the shoplifter and has had me under surveillance
ever since I have been employed by his firm. I only grasped this fact
yesterday. I knew he was following me around but I was conceited
enough to fancy it was my methods that interested him. I thought
maybe he knew I was my father’s daughter and was trying to learn
something.”
Jimmy gasped:
“Then you are the one he thinks he has trapped.”
“The same! Thank you for making me such an irresistible vamp.”
“What! What! Is your story not true?” Mr. Cox looked both alarmed
and irritated.
“It’s practically what old Simpson told right out at the boarding
house table. Of course I kind of—er—er—embellished it a little, but
the story is almost as he gave it—doughnuts and coffee and all.”
“It is what Major Simpson thinks is true, but suppose I go on with
my tale. I am sure Mr. Blaine wrote the matter up quite correctly
according to newspaper etiquette—certainly there is no handle for
legal trouble,” soothed Josie. “If I don’t mind being called a beautiful
criminal I am sure Mrs. Leslie should not mind being published as a
fascinating widow. Anyhow, no names were used, so what’s the
difference?”
“Perhaps you are right,” said Mr. Cox, smoothing out his troubled
brow. “Pray proceed. Your story is most interesting.”
“Please tell us—did you return the goods to Mr. Burnett?” asked
Jimmy.
Then Josie told of the twisted newspaper and her discovery of the
lace and gold mesh bag and her taking the articles to Mr. Burnett.
She also told of having tried to locate the haughty Miss Fauntleroy.
“And now—to sum up: Miss Fauntleroy is a fake and wishes to
conceal her address. The newspaper I bought from the old woman
who sits at the rear entrance of Burnett & Burnett’s had passed
through the hands of Miss Fauntleroy and she put the stolen goods
in the paper and twisted it up and returned it to the old woman.”
“Golly!” was all Jimmy could say. “And this Miss Fauntleroy?”
“It came to me all of a heap this very day that it was she to whom
the young Kambourian had the haunting likeness. I had seen her in
the store and been rather interested in her because she seemed
different from the other employees. She is evidently the daughter of
the house and the old beggar is none other than the mother,
Madame Kambourian. The father begs at the front door, the mother
at the back, and the daughter takes what suits her fancy and
deposits it now with Mamma and now with Papa.”
“But you said this Madame Kambourian was handsome,” objected
Mr. Cox. “Handsome and not at all old—hardly old enough to be the
mother of the youth.”
“Yes, but age is easier to assume than youth. She had on a clever
make-up. I wonder how much she takes in each day, selling papers
and never having the change.” Then Josie proceeded to tell all that
she had overheard through the open window, and how this was
made possible because of the janitor’s having been too lavish with
the owner’s coal.
“Now we must round up the whole bunch. The boy is mixed up in it
somehow, though he is still a mystery to me. I could not gather just
exactly what he does to increase the family income but I am sure it
is something of which he is not proud. I feel rather sorry for the boy
because I am sure he’d like to cut the whole bunch and be honest.
The entire family is interesting to me. The man and woman seem so
fond of each other and so considerate. I’ll give you my word they
are much more loving than many married couples one sees.”
“You have not seen this Miss Fauntleroy there, have you?” asked Mr.
Cox. “You are not really sure that she belongs there.”
“Not so sure that I could swear to it in a court of justice, but so sure
that I could safely say I’d eat my hat if she is not,” laughed Josie. “I
think she must be twin sister to this boy. I don’t want to brag, but
when I get a hunch like this it is apt to be right.”
“Well then, let’s proceed on the assumption that Miss Fauntleroy is in
reality Miss Kambourian. What next?”
“Next we must plan a campaign of watchful waiting. I will take
charge of the interior of Burnett & Burnett’s, keeping a never closing
eye on Miss Fauntleroy. I must have help to look after the beggar at
the front and the one at the back as well as the Kambourian
apartment, both front and back.”
After much thought and discussion Mr. Cox and Josie, with the alert
intelligence of Jimmy Blaine to advise with them, decided the thing
was too big not to call in the assistance of the police. The blue coats
might bungle, but at least they could be set to watch the alley
behind the apartment house and report anything out of the way.
“We’ve got a new chief here who is not so hide bound as the old one
was; in fact, he is very down-to-date in his methods. I am sure he
will cooperate with us. Call him up, Jimmy, and see if he is at his
office. Sunday is no more of a holiday to the police than to
newspaper men.”
The chief proved to be having a holiday in spite of its being Sunday,
but an alert young sergeant answered the call and even expressed
himself as willing to come to the newspaper office instead of having
the newspaper office come to him. The tale was quickly told.
Sergeant Tanner agreed with Josie on the plan of procedure.
“Who am I, anyhow, to take issue with the daughter of the great
O’Gorman? I reckon you are a chip off the old block, Miss, because if
you had not been you never would have caught that Markle bunch.
We know all about that here in Wakely. We know how you tracked
down that chap in Atlanta, too, the one who had put his step-sister-
in-law in a bug house and was planning to marry her and cop the
fortune. We know about the kidnapping case in Louisville, also. You
see we aren’t named Wakely for nothing. Anyhow we are awake
enough to keep up with the detective news.”
Josie could not help being flattered by Sergeant Tanner’s recognition
of merit but she merely blushed a little and said:
“It was all luck, absolutely nothing but luck that made me successful
in those cases.”
“I hope your luck will keep up,” said Mr. Cox.
“Of course plain clothes men are what we will need,” said the
sergeant, “and I think I’ll be one of them. Shall I take over the
apartment house and the entrances to Burnett & Burnett’s?”
“All right!” agreed Jimmy ruefully, “but what’ll I be doing? I want to
get in on this somewhere.”
“You might be an inside man and help me in the shop,” said Josie.
“Somebody must watch Major Simpson or he’ll bungle things.”
Sergeant Tanner was much amused over the poor Major and his
bungling.
“He’s a terrible dub at detecting. If he had called us in on this
shoplifting trouble we might have helped him but old Simp thinks he
knows it all and he is as ignorant of the game as a new born babe.
Now, Miss O’Gorman, I’ll detail some sharp men to keep an eye on
the apartment house to-night and others to look after it every
minute of the day to-morrow.”
“And I’ll come in the shop and buy things and even make up to Miss
Fauntleroy,” suggested Jimmy.
“Don’t get too much in evidence,” cautioned Josie. “And Sergeant
Tanner, be sure to keep a watch over the blind beggar man in front.
As for the woman with papers, I have an idea she will not come to
work for a day or so, not in the guise of an old woman, at least.”
Josie felt it wise to see Mr. Burnett for a moment before returning
home to inform him how matters were progressing and to ask his
approval of the move she had made in taking both newspaper men
and police force into her confidence.
He approved highly. “Between the two you will be sure to get help.
As for poor old Simpson, I wish he would have a slight indisposition
that would keep him away from the store to-morrow. Hasn’t he
messed things up, though?”
“Perhaps not! Anyhow I am hoping the Kambourians are so foreign
they don’t read the American newspapers. The chances are they
know nothing of the publicity given the matter.”
CHAPTER XVI
MRS. LESLIE TURNS DETECTIVE
“How can anybody call Monday a blue day?” asked Josie the next
morning as Mrs. Leslie served a dainty breakfast to the two girls. “It
seems to me to be the most wonderful morning in the whole week.
Even wash day holds no terrors for me. It always has been the very
best day of all for me, a kind of weekly Easter, a day in which the
whole world can start afresh.”
“I’m glad you like it,” said Mrs. Leslie, grimly. “I’ve been brought up
to feel differently.” Mrs. Leslie was having a mental and moral
reaction from the excitement of the Saturday and Sunday just
passed. “Monday was always a serious day with us in the country.”
“But, Mother,” laughed Mary, “you surely do not consider it your
religious duty to be blue on Monday.”
“Not exactly religious—but—”
“Now, Mrs. Leslie, please don’t be too down-hearted or too busy
because I have a task for you that I am sure you can’t resist.”
“Don’t be too sure child, because I am planning to clean beds to-
day. The sun is shining and it is a good thing to be beforehand with
beds. I can sun the things in the back yard—”
“The very thing!” cried Josie delightedly. “The more you are out in
the back yard the better because I do so want you to keep an eye
on those Kambourians from the rear. They will not be the least
suspicious of a busy housewife engaged in the legitimate search
connected with beds and early spring.”
Mrs. Leslie’s Monday gloom lifted a little. Being a private detective
was rather more interesting than the usual humdrum of
housekeeping. She promised Josie to keep a sharp lookout on the
neighbors.
“You never can tell about foreigners. They are more than apt to be
off color,” she declared. “If they do anything peculiar while you are
away, how must I proceed, Josie?”
“Proceed to call up Burnett & Burnett, phone number, Preston 11,
and ask for Mr. Theodore Burnett—take no substitute. Tell him who
you are and what is happening. He will do the rest. The
Kambourians may be absent all day but the chances are the woman
will not leave the house. The place is even now being watched by
detectives. But detectives do not always see everything and I am
depending on you to see what they don’t see.”
“Detectives watching the house now!” cried Mrs. Leslie, “I should say
this isn’t a blue Monday. I am thrilled indeed to be in the midst of a
mystery. Hurry up and get off, girls, so I can get out in the back yard
and see what I see.”
“Now, Mother, don’t overdo it,” cautioned Mary.
“Me overdo it!” said Mrs. Leslie, indignantly. “I know exactly how to
behave under the circumstances. I am going to run in and out with
pillows and blankets and carry out one slat at a time and put
mattresses in the windows and let them fall in the yard. I just wish
you and Josie could see me.”
“I wish we could,” laughed Josie. “I am sure you are going to do it
splendidly and I am so glad you are interested in it. I just know you
will beat all the police in Wakely in helping to bring these crooks to
justice.”
The girls were hardly out of the house when Major Simpson was
calling Mrs. Leslie on the telephone. The dear lady had not
bargained for such a development and it was with difficulty that she
commanded her voice to answer the smug old man as she knew he
must be answered. She was sorry she had not asked instructions
from Josie on how to meet such an emergency, but Major Simpson
took matters in his own hands and there was little for her to say but
yes and no.
“And how is my one time neighbor this morning? I hope she is well.”
“Yes, thank you!”
“Has that artful young person left your house?”
“Yes!”
“And she is going to return to her labors at Burnett & Burnett’s?”
“Yes!”
“What did she say concerning the article in the paper yesterday? You
saw it, did you not?”
“Yes!”
“It was unfortunate that it should have been published but
newspapers are ever on the alert for just such stories; human
interest, you know.”
“Yes!”
“Was the artful person angry at the publicity given the matter?”
“No!”
“What did she say?”
“I can’t remember exactly, but I think she said ‘Gee.’”
“Of course I shall be for dismissing the young person, but Mr.
Theodore Burnett evidently thinks otherwise. These young men think
they know it all, but I have not dealt with crime all these years
without acquiring some knowledge of the youthful criminals. There is
no reforming them. Well, Miss Polly, I thank you for cooperating so
wonderfully with me in this matter. And you are not angry that the
story—er—er—concerning the coffee and doughnuts and er—er—the
pink parasol should have leaked out?”
Mrs. Leslie’s: “Old idiot!” slipped out before she knew it but Major
Simpson’s: “What? What?” brought her to her senses and she
covered her retreat with a cough and smoothed things down by:
“Old intimate friends,” hoping that intimate and idiot might sound
more or less alike over a telephone.
“Of course you will not let this young person remain under your
roof,” the Major proceeded. “I feel in a measure er—er—responsible
for you, Miss Polly, and hope you will allow me to dictate to you to
some extent. This young woman, even though Mr. Theodore Burnett
is so soft hearted as to keep her in the employ of his firm, is hardly a
fit person to associate with you or your—er—er—charming daughter
—because I am sure she is charming if she is your daughter. I wish
you would promise me that this O’Gorman person will not remain in
your home another night.”
Mrs. Leslie hung up the receiver with a click. She was possessed
with a fury against the interfering Major that made it impossible to
continue the conversation although all that it entailed at her end was
a monosyllabic reply. She could well picture him at the other end of
the line, indignantly upraiding the telephone operator for having so
rudely cut him off. Her bell rang again sharply but she scorned
answering it and went about her combined business of bed airing
and female sleuthing with added vigor.
“Miserable old man that he is! Wants me to turn a girl out in the
street just because he has made up his mind she is a thief. I don’t
feel bad any longer about hoodwinking the old idiot. He is narrow
and mean or he wouldn’t ask me to do it.”
Josie was right in her guess—Madame Kambourian did not leave the
house that day. She, too, found many things to busy her on that
bright Monday. Much sorting and airing seemed to be going on in
the apartment next to the Leslies. Several times Mrs. Leslie looked
up from her labors and saw the pleasant, plump countenance of
Mrs. Kambourian peering at her from the open window. Once she
nodded and a cheerful “Good mor-r-rning,” was the response.
“A nice day for preliminary spring cleaning,” ventured Mrs. Leslie.
“Ver-r-ry nice,” said the neighbor, placing a silver fox scarf and a
sealskin jacket on the window sill where the sun could shine upon
them.
“You are not expecting moths this soon are you?” queried Mrs.
Leslie.
“Moths? You mean the cr-r-eatures that feed upon the fur-r and
wool? Ah, Heaven forbid! I merely sun my things because I love the
sun and then it is war-r-m and I may not need them now for many
months. I pack them up per-r-haps.”
Through the open window Mrs. Leslie could see a large packing box
and a wardrobe trunk.
“Getting ready to leave! It looks to me as though Josie should know
this,” she said to herself. Preston 11 was immediately called for by
the eager amateur detective and Mr. Theodore Burnett put on the
line.
“This is Mrs. Leslie, Mr. Burnett, Josie O’Gorman’s friend. Please tell
her the foreigners next door to us are getting ready to move and the
woman is sunning a silver fox scarf and a sealskin jacket, both of
them too good for anybody living in this house to use. I haven’t any
good furs of my own but I can tell them a mile off.”
Mr. Theodore Burnett smiled and made a note of the fact that the
amateur lady detective had no furs but knew good ones a mile off.
This was the same lady of whose judgment in the matter of dry
goods Major Simpson had spoken so highly, knowing from the first
that Josie O’Gorman’s clothes were of material too good to have
been bought from the salary of a novice at the notion counter.
“Clever lady!” he muttered in an aside, “Must keep her in mind.” He
thanked her profusely for the information and begged her to keep a
sharp lookout through the day. “The evidence you have gathered is
invaluable, my dear lady,” he assured her.
“The window is open and I can see a large packing box and a
wardrobe trunk and this Kambourian woman is folding and packing
as fast as she can. I gossiped with her a moment, quite casually, and
she told me herself she was thinking of moving. You’d best tell Josie
right off.”
“You are right! Thank you, and good bye!”
Mr. Burnett had just hung up the receiver when Major Simpson came
bustling into the office.
“Ah, Mr. Theodore, and how are you this nice sunny morning? Spring
in the air, my boy, spring! I have come to see you concerning this
O’Gorman person. Singular case—quite singular! She is actually
working behind the notion counter this morning quite as though
nothing had happened—not at all abashed—but meek withal, meek
and I must say modest. She dropped her eyes when I passed and
had occasion to stoop and hide her head. Modest, quite modest! I
feel more inclined to deal gently with one who shows becoming
modesty.”
Mr. Burnett could not help a sly smile but he controlled himself and
said rather sternly:
“Major Simpson, I ask you to let me do what dealing is necessary
with Miss O’Gorman, in fact, I ask you most emphatically.”
This was as near as either of the Burnett brothers had ever come to
commanding the old gentleman whom they had so unwillingly
inherited from their predecessors, but Mr. Theodore Burnett had no
intention of letting Major Simpson mix himself up in the matter of
Josie O’Gorman and her methods any more than possible.
“Certainly!” said the elderly detective, stiffly. “I have never been one
to overstep authority, but I feel it is my duty to warn you, young and
untried, against the machinations of a type like this O’Gorman
person.”
“All right, Major Simpson, I am warned—and now I shall go and
interview the young lady.”
“Do not be too easy on her,” insisted the determined Major. “I am—”
But what he was saying Mr. Burnett did not wait to hear. He felt that
Josie must be told immediately of the silver fox scarf and fur coat
sunning in the rear window at Number 11 Meadow Street, and of the
large packing box and wardrobe trunk and of Mrs. Leslie’s gossip. He
was in the elevator and making for the street floor of the store
before the Major’s sentence was completed.
All was as Major Simpson had reported. There was Josie O’Gorman
conducting herself as though nothing had happened, selling tapes
and pins with as much industry as she would have shown had her
living depended upon it.
At the jewel novelty counter across the aisle Miss Fauntleroy moved
with deliberate grace, totally unconscious of the fact that the sandy
haired little person with the unimportant countenance, who seemed
so busy making unimportant sales of bone buttons and shoe laces,
never once let the haughty beauty get out of her line of vision.
CHAPTER XVII
THE GIRL IN THE RED TAM