Hogan nodded and hurried down the hall. Sam followed him to the other room, tossed his keys into the drawer, then grabbed his hat and dogged the man’s heels outside. Now all he had to do was locate Duffy. And find out if the man had any connection to James Randolph, or the new owner of the M and M line. Maybe he could do that through Thomas, and not tip his hand.
He cut across lots to Olive Street, where Thomas had lived since vacating the manager’s cottage, and knocked on the door of Emily Stanton’s boardinghouse. He waited, wondering about the sudden sense of disquiet in his gut.
The door opened. He smiled and touched the brim of his hat. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Stanton.”
“Why, Captain Benton!” Surprise widened the round eyes looking up at him. “What brings you here?”
“I need to talk with Mr. Thomas. If I could—” He stopped, staring down at her shaking head.
“You’re too late, Captain. He ain’t here.”
The disquiet grew. “Did he tell you where he was going? I can catch up with him if—” The gray head was shaking again.
“He didn’t tell me where he was going. Only packed up and left three days ago.” A frown deepened the wrinkles in the plump face. “Late at night, it was. I heard someone on the stairs, peeked out my door and saw him leave. Sort of odd. Most times when someone goes sneakin’ out the door in the middle of the night, it’s ’ cause they can’t pay their bill. But he didn’t owe me nothing.”
“I see.” Sam nodded, touched his hat brim again. “Thank you for the information, Mrs. Stanton. Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon, Captain.” She started to close the door, then pulled it open and stuck her head out. “If you hear of somebody decent that needs a room, tell them I’ve got one empty.”
“I’ll do that, Mrs. Stanton.” Sam trotted down the steps and headed for the levee. Now he had two men to track down. Duffy and Thomas. Queer, Thomas leaving like that. Could there be a connection between that and James Randolph’s arrival? Seemed as if there might be. But why did Thomas sneak off? There was no reason for that, unless it was to keep his leaving a secret. And if that was so, who was he—
Sam’s face tightened. Could it be him? Could it be Thomas didn’t want him to know he was leaving town? Now why would that be? He tugged his hat down snug and let his mind play with that thought while he ate up the distance to the levee with his long strides.
“What is going on in here?”
Mary spun around, and gaped at her brother standing in the washroom doorway. “James! You are home.”
He nodded. “Yes. That is what I do when it is time to eat. I come home. Why the surprise?”
She laughed and hurried toward him. “I did not hear you come in the house is all. As small as it is, I was certain I would. I am sorry. I should have been waiting to greet you.” She touched his arm, gave a little push—a signal for him to leave.
He stood his ground, riveting his gaze on the scene behind her. Botheration! She had wanted a chance to explain before he saw Ben. Especially since the boy was wearing a shirt that had been in James’s dresser drawer when he left the house that morning. Her heart sank as he frowned at her.
“Mary, what—”
She squeezed his arm, sent him the silent “don’t ask questions” command with her eyes that she had perfected during their childhood years. Of course, that was when her demand usually involved keeping a secret from their parents. It was different now. He would probably ignore her signal. “I am finished here, James.” She gave him another tiny push, then looked over her shoulder. “Edda, if you will launder Ben’s clothes, please.”
“Ja.” The plump woman turned, lifted the small pile of filthy garments off the floor and plunged them into the tub of Ben’s bathwater.
James’s frown deepened to a scowl. Mary gave him another pinch. “Shall we go into the parlor and chat while Ivy prepares our dinner, James?”
His gaze fastened on hers. “That is an excellent suggestion.”
This time he yielded to her pressure against his arm and stepped back. She sailed past him, hurried to the small parlor and turned to face him. The scowl was still on his face.
“All right, Mary. Why is our cook’s son wearing one of my shirts?”
“Our cook’s son?” She laughed and relaxed into one of the Windsor chairs. “Ben is not Ivy’s son, James. He is a boy from the streets who carried my basket home from the market. And as for your shirt…what else had I to dress him in while his clothes are being laundered? I could hardly give him one of my gowns.”
“An unknown, dirty boy from the streets is wear—”
“Hush, James! He will hear you.” Mary surged to her feet, then closed the parlor door and whirled to face him. “And Ben is not dirty. I had him bathe as soon as we fed him and he agreed to stay awhile—Ivy even scrubbed his hair clean.” She glared up at him. “And shame on you for your lack of compassion! What—”
“Whoa! Hold on.” James held his hand up palm forward. “Before you castigate me for my attitude, I think you should at least tell me what is going on. How that boy got into our house and—”
“I have told you, James.”
“No, you have not. You told me that he carried your basket home.” He frowned at her. “I cannot believe the grocer would have a boy that dirty and unkempt working for—”
“James!” Mary launched herself through the intervening space into his arms. “James, you are a genius! What a wonderful idea.”
She planted a kiss on his cheek and spun out of his grasp. “I have been trying to think of what to do to help Ben. He is such a proud young boy, and you—” She stopped, frowned. “Of course, Mr. Simpson will not care for your idea. At least, not at first.” She paced the short distance across the room, turned and headed back. “But Mrs. Simpson…Yes, I am almost certain she—”
He reached out and caught her by the shoulders. “Mary, what you are talking about? What idea? And who are Mr. and Mrs. Simpson? What have they to do with this boy from the streets? And what has he to do with us?”
“Nothing. And everything.” She locked her gaze with his. “Ben is an orphan, James. And half-starved. Would you have let him be arrested and taken to jail for stealing bread to eat?”
Her words were soft, but challenging. James released his grip on her shoulders and straightened.
“You ask that question of me, Mary? You know I would not.”
She placed her hand on his arm. “I do know, James. And I meant no offense. I asked only so you would place yourself in my position.” She gave him a wry smile. “Neither one of us would be able to face Aunt Laina again if we allowed such a thing to happen in our presence.”
He nodded, and his lips curved in a smile that matched her own. “True. Nor Mother and Father, either.” His smile faded. “But you still have not told me how you met Ben. Or—”
“Or what?”
He shook his head. “My questions will wait until after I hear your story.” He draped his arm around her shoulders, then led her to the settee and sat down beside her. “I am all ‘at sea.’ Begin.”
“Yes, of course.” She tucked a wayward strand of hair in the loose knot on the crown of her head and looked over at him. “You know I had marketing to do this morning—food stores and such?”
He nodded, then grinned at her. “It will take some time for me to get used to the idea of you doing household tasks, but…yes, we discussed that last night, Miss Housekeeper.” His grin widened.
She gave him her “big sister” look. “If you wish to hear the story, James, be serious!”
He tamed his grin to a smile and dipped his head in agreement. “I shall be.”
“Very well, then.” She angled her body toward him. “I was nervous about going to the levee alone—because of the Indians and mountain men—so I decided to go to your office and ask you to accompany me.”
His levity fell away. He frowned. “Goodwin did not tell me that you came to see me.”
“Because I did not.�
� The memory of Captain Benton’s grinning face flashed. Warmth crept across her cheekbones.
James stared.
Bother! Mary lifted her chin and gave him a look that dared him to comment about her blush.
He passed on the challenge. “Go on.”
“At the front door, I chanced upon Captain Benton, who had called and found you busy in a meeting with some other gentlemen.” She looked down at her hands. “He inquired as to my dismay at your unavailability and, when I explained, offered to accompany me to the grocer’s.” In spite of her effort, there was a tinge of defensiveness in her voice. She looked up.
James grinned. “So the captain is the cause of that heightened color in your cheeks. I shall have to remember to thank him for his kindness to you when next I see him.”
She gave a little huff. “Stop teasing, James! It was duty, not kindness that prompted the captain’s actions. Now…as I was saying. The captain and I were walking along Front Street when Ben came running toward us, with the grocer giving chase. He caught the boy and told Captain Benton to throw him in jail with the rest of the thieves.” She paused, taking a breath.
“And you intervened?”
“Well, of course I did! It was obvious the boy was half-starved and frightened out of his wits. I thought surely the captain would show mercy, but when I protested the arrest, he said the boy was guilty of theft and he had no choice but to take him to jail.” She jutted her chin into the air. “So I told him I would pay for the roll, struck a bargain with Ben to carry my basket and informed Captain Benton I had no further need of his services!”
She expelled her breath in another huff, then gave him a smile of pure satisfaction. “And that is how I met Ben and enticed him to come home with me. I suspected from his condition he was an orphan. On the way home I managed to get him to talk about his past.” She sprang to her feet.
James rose. “And did you find out about his parents? Is he an orphan?”
“Yes. Ben’s mother died two years ago. And last fall his father sold their farm and made plans to come west in the company of some friends. They started their journey this spring. Ben’s father was killed fighting river pirates on their way down the Ohio.”
“Poor Ben!”
“Yes. Poor Ben. The friends brought him downriver with them to St. Louis, took his father’s possessions as payment, then told him there was no room for him in their wagon.” Anger surging, she paced across the room, then headed back. “They left him here with no one to care for him while they joined a wagon train and traveled on.” She stopped in front of him. “How could they do that, James? How could they rob a child, then simply leave him like that?”
He shook his head. “I have no answer for such unconscionable behavior, Mary. But I know Aunt Laina would be very proud of you. As would Mother and Father. As am I.”
“But?” She gave him a quizzical look.
“But…I see some difficulties we must find solutions for. What do we do with Ben now?” He lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his neck, peering down at her. “Have you given thought to that? Is there an orphanage—”
Mary threw her arms around his neck and squeezed with all her might.
He returned the squeeze, giving her a puzzled look when she stepped away. “Thank you. But what was that for?”
“The ‘we.’” She smiled up at him. “There is no orphanage, James. But the most wonderful thing has happened! Ivy is going to take Ben home to live with her. She is recently widowed and her children are grown and gone from home. It is perfect. Ben will be well cared for, and Ivy will not be lonely.”
“That is a happy solution.”
“Yes. And now you have solved the other problem.” She whirled away, turned back and clasped his hands. “I have been concerned over the cost to Ivy for Ben’s care. And over Ben’s feelings. He is a very honorable and proud little boy who wants to earn his way. Why, hungry as he was, he would not eat the roll and cheese I promised him as payment for his help until he had carried my basket home, for that was our agreement. Anyway…” She squeezed his hands. “Oh, James, I am certain your idea will work!”
“What idea?”
“Why for Ben to work at Mr. Simpson’s store.” She let go of his hands and whisked away again, her long skirts whispering as she moved across the floor. “Marketing baskets can become very heavy when you carry them for any distance. And I am certain ladies would be willing to pay for Ben to carry their baskets home. Oh, it is a lovely idea!”
“So is dinner.” James laughed and slapped his growling stomach. “And I believe I hear Ivy carrying our meal in from the kitchen.” He made a formal bow and offered Mary his arm. “Shall we discuss this situation further while we partake of whatever it is that is creating such a delicious smell?”
“La, it shall be as you wish, good sir.” Mary lifted her skirts slightly, made him a deep curtsy, then laughed and slipped her arm through his.
James chuckled and opened the door. “I do not know if I have Ben or the captain to thank, Mary. But it is good to see you so animated again.”
Chapter Five
“We are in agreement, gentlemen?”
Sam glanced around the table, noting the response to the mayor’s question. All nine of the aldermen nodded.
“Excellent!” The mayor smiled his satisfaction. “Let the record show that final plans for the addition to the courthouse have been unanimously approved and we hereby direct the work move forward with all dispatch. Now then, on to the next piece of business. It is for this that I invited Captain Benton’s attendance on our assembly this afternoon.”
Sam gave a brief nod as the aldermen glanced his way.
The mayor cleared his throat. “Captain Benton, all of us here are aware that our city has enjoyed significant growth in the past two years. We now have a theater, a hotel, banks. A water company is in the works. And the long-delayed plans for a public school are being drawn. The vast numbers of new buildings and the cobblestone paving of many of our streets have changed the complexion of our city from that of a wilderness town. And the increased safety of our citizens is also a factor in achieving that goal. I wish to commend you, Captain Benton, on the excellent job you are doing in taming the wilder elements among us.”
There was a general murmur of agreement.
“Thank you, Mr. Mayor.” Sam acknowledged the commendation and waited. He had not been called to this meeting only to receive a compliment.
“Because of all this, there is much to recommend St. Louis to men and women of substance and refinement who are considering moving west, not to the frontier, but to an established place. We want to attract those prosperous elite to our city.”
There was another murmur of agreement.
“However…”
Sam braced himself.
“There is a problem that must be addressed if we are to be successful in our pursuit of that objective.” A frown drew the mayor’s thick brows together. “The lowborn and penurious people pouring into our city in the hopes of joining a train heading west are becoming greater in number every year. And while the monies they spend to buy wagons and supplies, or for repairing or restocking their wagons, are prospering our businessmen, the orphans and runaways they leave behind are becoming a plague, a blight on our fair city’s image. You can scarcely walk down the streets without seeing the dirty ragamuffins skulking around. Why yesterday, one of them made so bold as to walk right past my wife into Simpson’s grocer!”
Sam stiffened. The boy the Randolph woman had saved from arrest! It had to be him. Most youngsters were too frightened to go into a store alone.
“The experience was too much for my wife’s sensitive nature. She was quite undone when she reached home. Levinia had a time calming her.” The mayor scowled down the table at him. “This cannot be permitted to go on, Captain Benton! No person of wealth and culture will wish to set up business and make his home in a city that cannot keep its streets clean of such an ugly blemish. You do an excellent job of contro
lling the gamblers, drunks, mountain men, boatmen and others who frequent the more disreputable establishments on the levee. Yet these…these street urchins run amok among their betters. Have you an explanation for this deplorable situation, Captain?”
“I do, Mr. Mayor.” Sam glanced around the table at each of the aldermen, trying to get a sense of where they stood on the issue. “The explanation is a simple one. I arrest lawbreakers. And there is no law against children walking the streets of St. Louis. Thus, unless one of these ‘urchins’ is caught stealing, or otherwise breaking the law, there is nothing I can do about their presence on our streets.”
The mayor scowled, drumming his fingers on the table. “That is a most distressing answer, Captain.”
Sam held his face impassive, tightening the grip on his hat that rested on his knee. If this ruined his chance to court Levinia—
The mayor stopped his drumming, glanced around. “Gentlemen, we must find a way to get these ragamuffins off our streets. We can hardly pass a law denying all children that right—we have children of our own. And the people we are trying to attract for permanent settlement must be made to feel St. Louis is an ideal place for them to rear their children. They must feel we welcome their children as future productive citizens of St. Louis society. Have any of you a solution to offer?”
The aldermen shifted in their chairs, knit their brows and studied the table. Silence fell.
Sam held back a scowl. It seemed Miss Randolph’s interference with that boy’s arrest had stirred up a pile of trouble. He turned his hat in his hands and waited.
Alderman Field cleared his throat, leaned forward and looked toward the mayor at the head of the table. “What if we pass a law to the effect that any child under the age of twelve who is not a citizen of St. Louis must be accompanied by an adult when in town?”
The mayor leaned back in his chair, rested the heels of his hands on the table and drummed his fingers. After a moment he nodded. “That might work, Arthur. If any outsider questions the law, we will explain it is for the children’s safety. Yes. That might work.” The mayor’s gaze shifted.
The Law and Miss Mary Page 4