Buck Hawk, Detective | Page 8

and she felt rather uncomfortable, as she became aware that their
eyes were bent upon her, but a spirit of resolution caused her to show
no trace of agitation or confusion.
The old gentleman was a fat, round-faced personage of sixty years, who
had a very bald head, and a pair of pleasant eyes which rather agreeably
lit up his ruddy, clean-shaven face.

He was seated in a comfortable chair, with one foot upon a cushioned
stool, wrapped up with a plenitude of blankets and flannels, which was
plain enough evidence that he was a sufferer from the gout.
He nodded to Etta, as she entered, and motioning her to a seat, turned
to a haughty-appearing lady, who had previously been speaking.
"So ye think you'd fill the bill, do ye?" he queried, surveying her
critically.
"I do," was the reply. "I am proficient in all branches of study, and
would like you to give me a trial."
"Yas, I suppose so," was the reply. "That's what these other girls want,
too, but they've all got fellers. I can't have no gals about my place what
has got feller on the brain. S'pose you're like the rest, eh?"
"Certainly. But I don't think you are doing right to interfere in a young
lady's private affairs."
"Then we don't agree. I pay a girl good wages to be ready for biz, when
I want her. If I should want to hear the news read at two in the morning,
I expect her to be ready to read it. If I see fit to give my amanuensis ten
hours vacation out of twelve, that's my business, too. Don't think any of
you girls will suit me, unless it is the last one. "What is your name,
miss?"
"Etta Evelyn, sir."
"D'ye know how to read and write and figger, correct?"
"Yes, sir."
"Got any relations-- poor ones?"
"No, sir."
"Know how to play the peanner?"

"Yes, sir."
"Got a beau?"
"No, sir."
"That'll do. Ye kin take off yer things, get yer supper in the
dining-room, send Pom for your luggage, and then come in and write
four letters, twixt now and bedtime. You other gals can go."
Etta obeyed, wondering if this could all be true, that she way so lucky.
She was a keen reader of human character, and saw from the start that
there was no way to get along with her employer, except to humor his
whims.
In the dining-rooms, she met the housekeeper, a motherly spinster, and
the two became friends, from the start, but Molly (as she gave her
name), was not one of the communicative sort, and said very little in
regard to the master of the house, whose name was Jason Titus.
After a bounteous supper, Etta dispatched the colored servant for her
luggage, and then sought the parlor.
Jason Titus was half asleep, but aroused, when she entered.
"This blasted gout has nigh about worn me out, of late," he growled.
"Never had it, did ye?"
"No, sir," Etta admitted, amusedly.
"S'pose not. Might 'a' know'd better. Get the paper, yonder, and see
what stocks are doing, in New York."
Etta complied with his request, and read for an hour, to him, on
different subjects.
During the evening, a collector came for a sum of money, and it
remained for Etta to wait upon him, she procuring the money from a

safe, in the library.
Titus then had her bring forth his books, and in an hour she knew about
all his business affairs, how much he was worth, and everything that
concerned his plans.
His money he kept in his safe, at home, not having any faith in banks.
"Et's all in yer charge, now, an ye can go on an' do bizness same as tho'
I was able," the old man announced. "I know you're honest, or I
wouldn't trust ye. Your salary will be five dollars a day, an' you are to
take it out, o' the cash drawer every day. That's all. You're at liberty for
the rest of the evening. Help yourself to the pianner, if you want. Molly
will show you your room, when you want to retire. Get up early
to-morrow, for a morning drive with me."
Whan Etta retired that night, she was wondering if it could all he true.
Seemingly, it had been a lucky happening for her which had been such
a heavy loss to the St. Clairs.
Turk, the messenger boy, felt greatly relieved, on returning to his
lodgings, that night, for he had cause to believe that he could depend
upon Billy Jones's silence, which would insure him against immediate
danger.
So he resolved to return to work the next morning.
On his arrival at the office, the superintendent informed him that he
could