“I’m not sure I have much change, sir,” was his answer.
“Oh, well, be a good fellow, and let me see what you have anyway,” I said with an encouraging smile.
He plunged a rather slim hand into the pocket of his trousers, and drew it partly out, glancing down at it; then in the same movement he seemed to have plunged his hand back down again as if to make a further search.
“Take out what you do have and let’s see,” I encouraged him. My suspicions began to deepen.
“I–I don’t have any change, really, sir. I’m sorry. Perhaps I could go down to the pharmacist’s shop and get you some, though,” he uneasily proffered.
“See here, my boy,” I became severe, “there’s no reason in the world why you can’t simply turn out your pockets and let me see what you do have. I may be able to make up what I need by doing some adding here and subtracting there. Be quick now, the young lady is waiting and she needs hansom fare!”
The youth turned a vivid red and gulped and then tried to speak, his brown eyes almost beseeching in their entreaty. This reaction alone confirmed my suspicion: this temporary aide to my caterer had neatly pocketed Alice’s three one-pound notes! I looked extremely grim as I approached and commanded, “Now that’s enough of this shillyshallying! Turn out your pockets, I tell you, or perhaps you would like me to go fetch a constable and have him turn them out for you!”
“Oh, please-don’t do that!” the youth gasped, and I saw his eyes blink and fill with tears. Very reluctantly he plunged his hand down into his trousers pocket again, and slowly drew it out and opened it. There were three one- pound notes!
“I think, my fine young gentleman,” I said between my teeth, “that you and I had best have a little chat. Give me the honor to enter my apartment, for we do not wish to cause a scene for the neighbors to eavesdrop upon. And don’t, I pray you, entertain the notion of trying to run for it. I was the second best half-miler in my form!”
Then to my amazement, the youth plunged his hands to his face and began to weep. I felt a kind of disgusted contempt for such a cowardy-custard who would not have the courage to face up to boldly if he really needed those three pounds so badly. I took him by the collar, and I hissed, “Quick, march now, fellow, or I’ll really put you in charge! I did not think that Mr. Willoughby would employ a common little thief!”
Opening the door to my apartment with my right hand, I shoved the youth in and closed and locked the door behind us. Alice had risen, her lovely eyes wide with curiosity and surprise, to see what all the hubbub was about.
“This fellow, Alice, had the temerity to hook your banknotes out of your purse,” I told her.
“Why, what a shocking thing to do! But why in the world would he do a thing like that?”
“Ask him, not me, my dear,” I chuckled. Having released the fellow, I clenched my fist and showed it to him: “Now, I dislike violence, but you had best make up your mind to tell me the truth or else it will go very hard with you. I certainly shall have to tell your employer, and it will mean your immediate dismissal. It remains for you, however, to determine whether I-have you booked as a thief at the local constabulary or whether I shall let you off with a sound thrashing. How old are you anyway?”
“Eight-eighteen, s-sir,” the boy quavered.
“But why in the world did you do such a wretched thing? If you had needed money, you might have thought of asking me because of embarrassed circumstances,” I told him. “I have a generous nature when I am properly approached, as my fiancee there can confirm.” At this sly innuendo, lovely brown-haired Alice turned red as the proverbial beet, and playfully shook her little fist at me.
“I–I didn’t mean to take it, but I couldn’t help it, sir,” the youth began to sob, disgusting me with his lack of manliness.
“You had best tell me the whole story so that I can be the judge of that,” was my cold reply. “Begin by giving me your name.”
“It-it-it’s W-W-Will.”
“Will what?” I relentlessly pursued.
“W-Will Ponsonby. And truly, I–I didn’t mean to, but I had to. My aunt-my aunt is terribly ill and needs medicine and she’s all alone,” the youth tearfully stammered.
“Do you know what I think, Will Ponsonby or whatever else your name may really be?” I growled. “I think, sir, that you are a liar and a common thief, and that I am going to send my fiancee down to the corner to fetch a constable directly! Once you are at the Bow Street lockup, you may change your tune.”
“Oh no! For heaven’s sake, don’t do that, it would kill my poor aunt, truly it would sir, sir! Oh please, you-you spoke of a b-beating a little while ago… I–I would rather take that a thousand times over than be turned over to the constable!”
“He really means it,” Alice said wonderingly.
“And I think I shall take him up on it at once,” I said impulsively. “Come along, Will Ponsonby. We shall get to the bottom of the truth of the matter!”
With this seizing him by the scruff of the neck, I pushed the fellow towards the Snuggery, gesturing with my free hand for Alice to follow, which she readily did.
Once inside, I ordered the youth to remove his black frock coat, which belonged to the establishment with which I had done business for some few years with never until this evening any difficulties. Reluctantly he did so, and stood before me in a high-collared shirt with long sleeves, and the black trousers of the establishment, which reached down to his ankles and over his polished black patent-leather shoes.
“Lift up your hands now,” I ordered, while I signed to Alice to let the pulley ropes down from the ceiling. As the youth hesitantly obeyed, I stood beside him, and, catching one of the ropes, made it fast around his left wrist, and then in a trice had the other equally pinioned. I gestured to Alice, and the pulley ropes were hoisted, stretching him to tip toe. His face was scarlet, and great tears welled in his limpid and very widened brown eyes as he stared hopelessly at Alice and me.
“Now then, young Will,” I addressed him, “you shall have a good dozen of the best with a birch, after which you may leave with your ill-gotten gains, but with the understanding that I intend to tell Mr. Willoughby, your employer, that I do not find you all trustworthy or reliable. It will mean your dismissal, but at least you will be spared the ignominy of a police arrest. Are you agreeable to that?”
The youth closed his eyes and nodded, and a choking gasp emerged from his trembling lips.
“If you please, Alice, there’s a dear girl,” I ordered, “unbutton Master Will’s shirt and roll it up as high as you can? And the undershirt as well. The bare back is the field of operation for a common thief.”
“Oh please, sir,” the youth suddenly and tearfully gasped out, “don’t strip me, I beg of you, don’t do that! I–I will take the birching bravely, I promise! Even give me double, sir, but please don’t strip me!”
“You are unduly modest now after your roguery,” I chided him. “And there is nothing of impropriety in being stripped to the waist for a flogging. Why, sir, if you had gone to Eton as I did, young sir, you would have been forced to bare a good deal more than what I propose to unveil. Proceed with it, Alice!”
Alice went behind the slim youth and began to tug out the shirttails, at which the fellow twisted and wriggled and even tried to kick, crying out and sobbing, “Oh no! I beg of you, Miss, don’t shame me so! Have pity on me!” till I was exasperated. I started towards the culprit and myself unbuttoned his shirt and then yanked up; the tails in front while Alice was doing the same behind. To my intense surprise, I perceived not an undershirt but a-pink camisole, with fastening shoulder straps, and what was more-a quite discernible bosom! Our Will Ponsonby was not a young boy, but a young girl!
“In heaven’s name, what is the meaning of this impersonation?” I demanded, angry both with myself and with the conniving wench.
“Oh please, sir, I–I’ll take the b-birching and say no more, only leave me my clothes, for God’s sake!” the girl said in a trembling low husky voice that now took on a disturbingly appealing nuance-now that I knew her to be a she instead of a he, to be sure! “The-the fact is, my aunt is very poor and I have been trying to find work as a typist and without luck, and Davis, that’s the grocer’s boy, told me that Mr. Willoughby down the street was in dire need of some waiters because two of his men had gone off to visit sick relations. So-so I dressed myself this way and I got the job. And when I saw the lady’s purse open-”
“Dear me,” Alice here intervened. “I really must have forgotten to close the clasp.”
“That’s true, M-Miss,” the girl sobbed. “When I saw the notes and I filched them… but truly, I–I meant to bring them back as soon as I find steady work, that’s the truth, sir!”
“Then what is your real name?” I sternly demanded.
