The hall bedroom that Mandy had decided was the suitable place for Josie proved to be clean and comfortable. To be sure it was a third floor back, but Josie liked to be high up and she also liked the outlook on the back yards of the neighbors.

“Yonder’s de ol’ Ellett place,” pointed Aunt Mandy. “It’s some run down, but it wa’ sho a el’gant home in de ole days. I reckon dat ol’ skinflint Cheatham will en’ by buildin’ ’partments dar. Some say he cyarn’t git a clar title or he’d a been tearin’ down an’ puttin’ up befo’ now. Yonder’s him dis blessed minute! Done step out ter view his prop’ty.”

Josie craned her neck to see the rear of poor Ursula’s home, and if possible to get a good look at the villain, Cheatham. At any rate he was in Louisville and not flying across the continent with poor little Philip.

“First, I must see the police here,” she decided ruefully. Seeing the police—any police but her old friend Captain Charlie Lonsdale—was a sore trial to Josie. Like most private detectives she was inclined to look down somewhat on the regular force, but she was more interested in having the wrongdoer tracked than in gaining honor and glory by being the one to bring him in.

“The important thing is to find little Philip and unless Captain Charlie has already wired the Louisville police it is up to me to see them.”

One reason for Miss Lucy Leech’s success in running a boarding house was that she attended strictly to her own business and let the guests of her home attend to theirs. She had not gotten rich on this policy, as it is said one may do, but she was at least able to keep her house well filled and to save a comfortable sum for her old age, which was in truth upon her, although she did not realize it. Now that the new and somewhat mysterious young boarder, so highly recommended by the hackman and the porter, decided to brave the slush and the fog and go for a walk on Christmas morning, Miss Lucy asked no questions and in consequence was told no lies. Josie thanked her in her heart and went bravely forth. Two things were happening to the weather. The sun was clearing away the fog and no longer looked so like an orange, and the thermometer was dropping rapidly. Josie was glad of both changes. It was good to find Louisville not the dismal place she had thought it on arriving, but a very pleasing city. A fog is beautiful to an artist but the lay brother prefers a clear day. As for the drop in temperature, it meant less slush and easier walking and a bracing atmosphere that made Josie sniff the air like a colt that has been pent up long in a stable.

The young detective missed the homely friendliness of the Dorfield chief, but had a feeling that the police force of Louisville was really very adequate. The captain in charge was an alert, business-like person, who took hold of the facts, as Josie expressed it to herself, “like a woman.”

“Now what are your plans?” he asked. Josie liked him because he didn’t call her “miss.” Captain Charlie would have said: “What are your plans, miss?” Josie liked being a girl but she hated being “missed” when she was at work.

“I reckon I’m going to hunt the motive first. I can’t see why anyone would want to steal a little orphan boy, when the homes and asylums are full of darling children waiting to be adopted. Philip is a lovely child, but not the loveliest I have ever seen. Of course, I suspect this Mr. Cheatham, but he is in Louisville this minute. I am going to ascertain if he has been on a trip recently and look into his financial standing. I am also going to Peewee Valley to see some old friends of Miss Ellett. Miss Ellett is a peculiarly reticent person and it is very difficult to get information from her as to her early life. She does not intend to conceal anything, but the only way to get any information out of her is to worm it out. She had very few friends owing to her mother’s long illness and the peculiarities of her stepfather. Colonel Trask’s family at Peewee Valley were her only intimates.”

“She chose well while she was choosing,” said the police captain. “Well, Miss O’Gorman, you seem to leave very little to the local police force to do. Your name, combined with your methods, make me think you must be some kin to the famous O’Gorman whose place can never be filled. Am I right?” “My father,” said Josie softly.

“Well! Well! Well!” he cried, jumping up from his desk and shaking the girl by both hands. “I’ve worked with O’Gorman on many a case. My, he was a wonder! I think you look like him.”

Josie blushed with delight. Most girls would not like to be told they resembled a funny looking little man with a blobby nose, but Josie was as pleased as though the police captain had told her she must be related to Mary Pickford. Anything at all connected with her beloved father was almost sacred to the girl. When someone told her she looked like him, or resembled him in traits, she had a better opinion of herself all day.

“Well, O’Gorman’s daughter will know how to coÖperate,” said the captain, “and that is more than can be said of most detectives. They are always so anxious to get the credit that they will let the criminal escape rather than see someone else capture him. O’Gorman was in the business for the joy he got out of righting wrongs. He never waited to be thanked and sometimes not even to be paid. I’ll be bound he died a poor man.” “Not a rich one,” said Josie, “but if I live to be old there’ll be enough to keep me out of the poorhouse and if I die young, enough to bury me decently and start someone else in life.”

“Spoken like your father!” laughed the captain. “He never told an inquisitive person to mind his own business in so many words but he usually let him know where to ‘get off’.”

“I didn’t mean—” faltered Josie.

“I know you didn’t mean, but you just did, and I respect you all the more for it.”

“Well, Father always did say that if you could not be trusted with your own affairs you could not be trusted with other folks’. I have a habit of taking it for granted that my business is of no interest to others. I did not intend to be snippy.”

“Exactly!” The man laughed silently. He could but mark that Josie still kept to herself what money her father may or may not have left to his only heir.

“If you think best, I’ll go immediately to Peewee Valley and see the Trasks. Miss Ellett tells me they are her best friends and I feel perhaps they may know something of the movements of Cheatham. Before I go, however, I’ll make a call on the nurses’ registrar and look into the supposed whereabouts of this nurse Fitchet.”

“I don’t see what you are leaving to me to do then,” said the captain, smiling.

“Well, I guess you have other cases on your docket just now, while this is my sole interest. Good-bye, sir, and thank you for your courtesy!” Josie was up and gone before the surprised man could say anything more.

“Her father all over!” he grinned. “‘Waste not, want not!’ meant words as well as food to Detective O’Gorman.”