The Crimson Thread: An Adventure Story for Girls

  E-text prepared by Stephen Hutcheson, Rod Crawford, Dave Morgan, and theOnline Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)

  Adventure Stories for Girls

  THE CRIMSON THREAD

  by

  ROY J. SNELL

  The Reilly & Lee Co.Chicago

  Printed in the United States of America

  Copyright, 1925byThe Reilly & Lee Co.All Rights Reserved

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE I Two Hours Before Midnight 7 II Crimson with a Strand of Purple 23 III A New Mystery 36 IV The Picture Girl 52 V "Come and Find Me" 67 VI The Iron Ring 80 VII Cordie's Mad Flight 93 VIII The Diamond-Set Iron Ring 109 IX Her Double 136 X Cordie's Strange Ride 153 XI As Seen from the Stairway 167 XII Silver Gray Treasure 175 XIII Lucile's Dream 181 XIV The Newspaper Picture 187 XV "With Contents, If Any" 192 XVI A Great Day 205 XVII An Icy Plunge 215 XVIII The Mystery Lady's New Role 229 XIX Meg Wields a Belaying Pin 234 XX The Great Moment 246 XXI The Man in Gray 254 XXII The Finish 263 XXIII Meg's Secret 271 XXIV Three Questions 277 XXV What the Brown Bag Held 294

  THE CRIMSON THREAD

  CHAPTER I TWO HOURS BEFORE MIDNIGHT

  Starting back with a suppressed exclamation of surprise on her lips,Lucile Tucker stared in mystification and amazement. What was thisghost-like apparition that had appeared at the entrance to the long darkpassage-way? A young woman's face, a face of beauty and refinement,surrounded by a perfect circle of white. In the almost complete darknessof the place, that was all Lucile could see. And such a place for such aface--the far corner of the third floor of one of the largest departmentstores in the world. At that very moment, from somewhere out of thedarkness, came the slow, deep, chiming notes of a great clock telling offthe hour of ten. Two hours before midnight! And she, Lucile, was for amoment alone; or at least up to this moment she had thought herselfalone.

  What was she to make of the face? True, it was on the level with the topof the wrapper's desk. That, at least, was encouraging.

  "That white is a fox skin, the collar to some dark garment that blendscompletely with the shadows," Lucile told herself reassuringly.

  At that moment a startling question sent her shrinking farther into theshadows. "If she's a real person and not a spectre, what is she doinghere? Here, of all places, at the hour of ten!"

  That was puzzling. What had this lady been doing in that narrow passage?She could not be a member of the working force of the store. No salesperson would come to work in such a superb garment as this person wore.Although Lucile had been employed in the book department for but tendays, she had seen all those who worked here and was certain enough thatno such remarkably beautiful face could have escaped her notice.

  "She--why she might be anything," Lucile told herself. "A--thief--ashoplifter. Perhaps she stole that very cape--or whatever it is shewears. Perhaps--"

  Suddenly her heart gave a leap. Footsteps were approaching. The nextinstant she saw a second face appear in the narrow line of light whichthe street lights cast through the window.

  "Laurie Seymour," she breathed.

  Laurie was the new man in the department. He had been working at theboys' and girls' books for only three days, yet Lucile liked him, likedhim tremendously. He was so friendly, even-tempered and different. And heseemed a trifle mysterious.

  "Mysterious," she mused, "perhaps here's the mystery answered."

  It certainly did seem so, for after the apparition in white had whispereda word or two, Laurie looked at her strangely for a second, drew from hispocket a slip of paper and handing it to her, quickly vanished into theshadows. The next instant the apparition vanished, too. Again Lucilefound herself alone in the far corner of the mammoth store, surrounded bydarkness.

  Perhaps you have been wondering what Lucile and Laurie were doing in thegreat store at this hour. Since the doors are closed at six o'clock, youhave no doubt thought of the entire place as being shrouded in darknessand utterly deserted. These were the days of the great rush of sales thatcomes before Christmas. That evening eight thousand books had beentrucked into the department to be stowed away on or under tables andshelves. Twenty sales persons had been given "pass outs"; which meantthat they might pass _in_ at seven o'clock and work until ten. They hadworked like beavers; making ready for the rush that would come on themorrow.

  Now the great bulk of the work had been done. More than half of theworkers had chirped a cheery "Good-night" and had found their way down amarble stairway to the ground floor and the street. Lucile had been sentby "Rennie," the head sales-lady of juveniles, to this dark section foran armful of books. Here in this dark corner a part of Laurie's truecharacter had, uninvited, come to her.

  "He gave her his pass-out," she said to herself. "With that she can leavethe building with her stolen goods."

  For a second, as she thought of this, she contemplated following themystery woman and bringing her back.

  "But that," she told herself, "would be dangerous. That passage is ahundred feet long and only four feet wide; then it turns sharply and goestwo hundred feet farther. She may carry a knife; such women do. In thatplace she could murder me and no one would know until morning.

  "Of course," she reflected, "there's the other end of the passage whereit comes out at the offices. She must leave the passage there if she doesnot come back this way. I might call the watchmen. They could catch her.It's a perfect trap; she's like a mouse in a boot. But then--"

  She paused in her mad rush of thought. What proof had she that thisbeautiful creature was a thief? What indeed? And what right had she tospy upon her and upon Laurie? Truth was, she had none at all. She was asales person, not a detective. Her job was that of putting books onshelves and tables and selling them; her immediate task that of taking anarmful of books to Rennie. Her simple and sole duty lay just there. Then,too, in the short time she had known Laurie Seymour, she had come to likehim.

  "He might be innocent of any real wrong," she reasoned. "If I goblundering into things I may be serving a friend badly indeed."

  "But," she was brought up short by a sudden thought, "if he gave her hispass-out, how's he to leave the building?"

  How indeed? In a great store such as this, where hundreds of thousands ofdollars worth of rare jewels and much silver and gold are kept and whereprincely furs and priceless old paintings are on display, it is necessaryto maintain a constant vigil against thieves. "Pass-outs" are given toall employees who enter or leave the store after closing hours. It wastrue enough that without his pass-out, Laurie could not get by theeagle-eyed guard who kept constant vigil at the only door where theemployees were permitted to pass out to th
e street.

  "But the books," she murmured, starting up, "Rennie will be waiting."

  Rennie, whose real name was Miss Renton, appeared to be in no hurry.Having become interested in writing down lists of books that were to beordered in the morning, she had so far forgotten the girl as to exclaimas she came up:

  "Why, Lucile! I thought you had gone! Now, dearie, just put those booksdown right there. We can take care of them before the rush begins in themorning. Run along now and get your coat. You must go home. It's pastten, less than two hours till midnight!"

  "Yes, but--"

  Lucile checked herself just in time. She had been about to say that shewas afraid to go for her coat. And indeed she was, for was it not hangingon the wall in that narrow passage at the door of which the mystery ladyhad appeared?

  "But it wouldn't do to tell," she thought, "I--I've got to go alone."

  Go she did, but with much fear and trembling.

  She might have spared herself all this trembling, for there was no one inthe dark passage.

  But what was this? The row of coat hooks were all empty save one, herown, and on that hook--what could it mean?--on that hook hung not her owntoo frankly thin and threadbare coat, but a magnificent thing of midnightblue and white. It was the cape with the white fox collar worn by themystery woman.

  Even as her hand touched the fox skin she knew it was far more costlythan she had thought.

  "It's over my coat," she breathed. "I've only to leave it."

  This, she found, was not true. _Her coat had vanished._ The cape had beenleft in its stead and, as if to further perplex and alarm her, themidnight blue unfolded, revealing a superb lining of Siberian squirrel.

  "Oh!" Lucile exclaimed as her trembling fingers dropped to her side andshe fled the place.

  One consoling thought flashed across her mind. Rennie had not yet leftfor the night. Rennie, the tall and slim, with a thread of gray in herblack hair, who had been in the department for no one knew howlong--Rennie would know what to do. The instant she was told all that hadhappened she would say what the very next step must be.

  "The instant she is told," Lucile whispered to herself. Then suddenly sherealized that she did not wish to tell all she had seen.

  "Not just yet, at any rate," she told herself. "I'm not supposed to haveseen it. I want time to think. I'll tell Rennie only what I am supposedto know--that my coat has been taken and this cape left in its stead."

  Rennie showed little surprise on hearing the story. "Someone has probablytaken the wrong coat," she said.

  "But that's not possible!" Lucile laughed at the very thought.

  "Why?"

  "I'll show you," and she dashed back for the cape.

  As Rennie saw the magnificent creation, she gasped with astonishment;then began to murmur something about fairy princesses looking after poorgirls and leaving them gorgeous garments.

  "You can't go home without a wrap," she told Lucile. "They say there's aregular blizzard outside. You'll simply have to wear it home."

  Taking the garment from Lucile's hands, she placed it upon her shoulderswith a touch that was half caress. Then, having fastened it underLucile's chin, she stood back to exclaim:

  "Why, dearie, you look charming!"

  "But--but how am I to get out of the building with it? No one willbelieve that a mere sales girl owns a cape like this. It's new. Probablyit's been stolen."

  "Stolen!" exclaimed Rennie. "What nonsense!

  "Besides," she added in a quieter tone, "it's not quite new. The stringsthat hold it together at the throat are worn a little smooth and there'sthe least bit of a soil at the bottom. You wait ten minutes for me andwe'll go out together. I know the watchman. I'll take you out under mywing."

  Greatly relieved by these words and intent on making the most of her waitby having a good general look at the room, Lucile sauntered away to theleft where she was soon lost from sight behind tables, stacks of books,and massive pillars.

  Since she had worked here but ten days, the charm of the place had notyet worn off. The books, row on row of them, fascinated her. Here was awealth of learning that no one could hope to appropriate in a lifetime.To the right of her was poetry, thousands of volumes; to the left, bookson travel, thousands more; and before her new fiction, tens of thousands.Who would not envy her? It was a great place for one who loved books.

  With a feeling of sorrow she thought of the time when she must leave allthis wealth; when she must say goodbye to the wonderful friends she hadalready formed here. In two short weeks she would be going back to theUniversity. Since she was dependent upon her own resources for hersupport--and since for one who specialized in English there was quite asmuch to be learned about books by selling as by reading them--her headprofessor had quite readily granted her a month's leave of absence thatshe might come down here to assist in meeting the Christmas rush.

  "Ah yes," she breathed, "it will be of the past in two more weeks. But intwo weeks much may happen. Think of what happened to-night! Think--"

  She was brought up short by a sound. Had it been a footstep? She couldnot make sure for the floor was heavily carpeted. Instantly she becameconscious of the darkness that surrounded her like a shroud. Before herloomed the dim outlines of the elevator cages. Distorted by the uncertainlight, these seemed the cells of some gloomy prison. Far off to the rightwas a great rotunda. From the rail that surrounded this, when the lightswere on, one might gaze upward to dizzy heights and downward to dizzierdepths. Now she thought of that awe inspiring vault as if it were somedeep and mysterious cave.

  "Oh--ooo!" Lucile gasped. "This place gets spookier every moment. I'll goback to--"

  Even as she spoke she caught a sound to her right. Impelled by sheercuriosity, she took a dozen steps in that direction.

  Suddenly she started back. Against the wall a light had flashed on for asecond and in that second she had caught sight of a face--the face ofLaurie Seymour.

  Again the light came on. This time the flash was a little longer. She sawhis face clearly. On his finely cut features there was such a smile assuggests anticipation of amusing adventure.

  In one hand he held the flashlight. Under his arm was a bundle ofcorrugated paper such as is used in wrapping books for mailing. He wasstanding by a square opening in the wall. Lucile knew in a vague sort ofway where that opening led. Books that had been wrapped were dropped inthere. A circular spiral chute, some three feet in diameter, wormed itsway like an auger hole down from this point to the sub-basement where waslocated the shipping room.

  Even as she thought this through she saw Laurie swing his feet across theopening. Then, just as the light flashed out, she again saw that amusedgrin. The next second there came the sound of some heavy object glidingdownward.

  "He--he went down the chute!" she gasped. "He'll be killed!"

  How long she stood there, petrified with surprise and dread, she couldnot have told. It could not have been many seconds but it seemed an hour.At last the end came, a sickening thud sounding faint and far away.

  Without uttering a sound, but with heart beating wildly and feet flyingat almost superhuman speed, the girl raced across the room and down aflight of broad marble stairs.

  "I must find him. He is hurt. Perhaps he is killed!" she kept repeatingto herself.

  Down one flight; down two; three; four, she sped.

  And then, in the darkness of this vast shipping room, she paused tolisten.

  Not a sound. She may as well have been alone in the catacombs of Egypt orthe Mammoth Cave.

  "Must be this way," she breathed.

  Truth was, she had lost her sense of direction. She was not sure whichway to go. She took a dozen steps forward. Finding herself confronted bya dark bulk, she started walking round it. Having paused to think, shefound fear gripping at her heart. When she tried to retrace her steps shediscovered that the stairs had apparently vanished. She was lost.

  "Lost!" she whispered. "Lost in the subbasement of this great building atnight!" Even as she
thought this there came to her, faint and fardistant, yet very distinct, the even tread of footsteps.

  "It's not Laurie. He doesn't walk like that. It--it's--" her heart stoodstill, "it's a watchman! And here I am dressed in this magnificentgarment which does not belong to me. Somehow I must get back to the thirdfloor and to Rennie! But how? How!"