Jane Carter Investigates: Episode Fifty-One

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Episode Fifty-One

Like an excited schoolboy, Dad paced the floor and could not relax until the first issue of the paper was placed in his hand. I had conflicted feelings as I looked over his shoulder and saw Miss Hortencia Higgins’ name signed to the story I had just written.

“It’s a beautiful layout, every bit of it,” my father said. “You took care of your part like a veteran, Jane.”

“Don’t think Hortencia Higgins is going to make it a habit of contributing to the Examiner,” I said. “Miss Higgins is going to be far too preoccupied with figuring out what her dastardly villain is going to do once he discovers that the password to the secret cave is ‘Death to Traitors’.”

“Surely the talented Miss Higgins’ considerable brain power won’t be completely squandered on villains and secret caves,” Dad protested.

“No, I expect not,” I said. “The balance of Miss Higgins’ attention will be devoted to determining what her heroine is going to say when she emerges from her dread delirium and discovers that the only man she’s ever loved has been falsely accused of being a murderous horse thief.”

Dad pretended not to hear me.

“I want to see Jack,” I said.

“There’s no reason you can’t,” said Dad. “Everything is well under control here. I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“You never drive, Dad,” I said. “At least not when I’m around.”

“Nonsense,” my father protested. “I may take advantage of you now and then, but I wouldn’t think of making you play chauffeur after the day you had.”

“Everything turned out beautifully.” I was so tired; I felt as if my eyes would close against my will. “You achieved your scoop, Mud Cat Joe recovered his houseboat, and Jack will get well.”

“Yes, the breaks did come our way, Jane.”

“I suppose Ralph and Violet will be sent to prison?”

“Undoubtedly. Glen Conrad may have to serve a sentence, too, but his wife should get off lightly.”

“Well, I’m rather glad of that, even if I never liked her. I wonder what will become of Emma.”

“Maybe I can find a job for her, but I fear she’ll never make a newspaper reporter.”

“No, newspaper work would kill a stronger person than Emma.”

I needn’t have worried about Emma. Three days later, I would receive a letter from her, postmarked Chicago. It seemed Emma had made a deep impression upon Mrs. Fairchild, and when the rich old lady returned to the east, she’d taken Emma with her to serve as secretary and companion.

“I wonder what will happen to Sing Lee and his daughter,” I said.

“Dr. Hamsted seemed to think Mr. Lee would make a full recovery,” said Dad. “Although, I’m afraid the laundry is a total loss. I heard Sing Lee’s daughter mention something about some relatives in San Francisco, so I expect they’ll go there when Mr. Lee is well enough.”

When we reached the hospital, Dad refused the invitation to come in with me and even went so far as to press return taxi fare into my hand.

“Don’t hurry home,” said Dad. “And tell Jack ‘Hello’ for me, although I expect as long as he’s got you in the room, he won’t care to think of his old boss.”

“Dad!”

“You know that young fellow thinks you’re ‘the bee’s knees,’ or whatever the expression is that young people are using these days.”

“I think ‘elephant’s adenoids’ is more the current vogue,” I corrected him. “Or ‘caterpillar’s kimono,’ if one prefers.”

I didn’t look back as Dad pulled away from the curb, but I smiled all the way into the building. 

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