VII
The dingy window was cluttered with a collection of strange objects, and dark smells and secrets seemed to emerge from the low doorway as Milly entered the shop. The old man who hurried forward from a back room greeted her with eager, smiling face. He rubbed his hands a little.
"It is long time we do not see you," he said slowly. The small eyes and the shrugged-up shoulders regarded her kindly.
"How is business?" asked Milly.
"Oh—but bad!" The shoulders shrugged themselves higher and the outspread palms laid it before her.
She smiled a little. "Always bad, isn't it, Mr. Stransky?
"I am looking for emeralds." She spoke abruptly and a swift look crossed the man's face.
"Emeralds! So?" The hands spread themselves wider. He watched her face humbly.
"Listen!" she said. "I want to find a number of stones—or perhaps a whole necklace."
"Oh-ho!" The hands made a swift intelligent gesture, that passed quickly to the face. "That would be the Mason emeralds!" he said.
"Yes. Have you seen them?"
He shook his head with a long, knowing smile. "If I see those stones, I rich man!" he said quaintly.
"You have heard of them?"
He nodded darkly. "Mr. Corbin, he offer big money—two year ago. He say big reward—no risk!" He shook his head slowly, spreading his fingers wide and touching one in swift emphasis. "Not one emerald in all two years!" he declared. "Not one!"
Milly looked at him thoughtfully. "Sometimes, you know, you have managed to find things for me—after every one else had given up." She spoke with a little slow significance. "I know you will do your best for me," she added casually.
A swift mask seemed to fall from the man's face. The small eyes regarded her with kindly glance, and the hands and shoulders were quiet.
"I do all for you, Miss Newberry," he declared. "What comes in I tell you—first. But those emeralds"—he shook his head—"I think they will not come!"
"No?"
"No—a strange case!" said the man. "One day safe in box—next day, gone! And not one stone comes in!"
"How much did you know about them?" asked Milly curiously.
"They tell us the number of stones and the size—yes. Every pawn-shop in the city has looked out—but not one stone!" he said impressively.
"Why should they steal and not try sell?" he demanded of her.
She shook her head. "That's what I am going to find out—if I can."
The man's eyes regarded her trustingly. "I think you find them," he said. "Yes, I think it!" He nodded his head.
"Thank you. I wish you could help me. How is Mrs. Stransky?"
"Oh—Sarah!" He raised his voice to the back of the shop. "She want to see you," he confided to the detective.
A little, shining-eyed woman came haltingly from the dusk of the rear. When she saw the gray figure by the door she hurried forward.
"It is Miss Newberry!" she cried.
"Yes. And how is Jacob?" asked Milly, taking the eager hand.
"Yes—but fine!" said the woman. "You come in?"
"Not this morning," Milly smiled. "I came to ask Mr. Stransky to help me."
"Yes?" The shining eyes consulted her husband's face.
He shook his head. "Nothing!" he replied.
"Oh—but too bad!" said the woman briskly. "Not to help Miss Newberry! When she need something! And she help Jakey—and not tell police!" Her lifted hands were full of grateful memory.
"He's all right, is he?" asked Milly.
"Jacob got good job!" nodded the man.
"And always good boy!" broke in the wife. "Always so good boy! He get married now next fall!" she announced proudly.
"I am glad!" said Milly. "Tell him to come and see me some time."
"He like come!" said the woman eagerly. "Always when he go to you, he say it like some good time to see Miss Newberry! He sorry when you say not come any more!"
Milly laughed out. "Well, tell him I don't say not come—I say come— next week, or whenever he can. Only telephone me first. . . . I must go now and hunt emeralds."
The eyes of the two followed her from the door of the shop. Then they turned and regarded each other gravely.
"She good woman!" said the man.
"Like our Lady of the Water!" responded his wife. "She hold big candle and look everywhere!"
Something in the uplifted hand and fixed gaze of the tiny figure was not unlike the great statue that stands guard at the door of the nation, and Isaac's face held it admiringly.
The woman's lips moved softly. "She say: Come—all children—I give good chance!" she murmured under her breath. . . . The fixed look broke.
A figure stood in the doorway and she moved toward it.
"Jakey! It is Miss Newberry. One minute now—she say: 'Come'!"
The youth stopped, with perplexed gaze. "Now what have I done?" he muttered quickly.
"Oh—but nuttin', Jakey!" She was half-laughing, half-crying, with the love and admiration in her gaze. The worn fingers stroked his sleeve.
"It was little visit, she say—make call!"
"What for?" demanded the youth. "I'm keeping straight!" His shoulders squared themselves. "She can't come back on me for nothing!" he declared proudly.
His father's hand made gentle passes across the straightened shoulders, and his voice was soothing.
"So-o!" he said. "She say make call, like friend."
"Oh—sure!" laughed the boy. "I'd like to call on her, all right! She's great!"
The shining mother-eyes regarded him,
and the little figure drew itself erect. Something of the spirit of liberty touched it again as she repeated softly, after Jakey, "She's great!" and again, softly: "She hold candle high—look everywhere!"