Page:Arthur Stringer - The Hand of Peril.djvu/167



the second floor of that house which bore the number of One-hundred-and-twenty-seven, a lank and slatternly young girl was bent over a porcelain bath-tub, scrubbing therefrom the residuary tide-marks of many communal ablutions. Her head was bent low over her work and she saw nothing of the resplendent and somewhat short-winded figure that darted suddenly up the stairs and contemplated her from the open bath-room door.

"Sis," demanded this figure, "d'you believe in fairies?"

The scrub-girl dropped her scrub-rag and raised a dishevelled head.

"No, m'm!" she answered, quite without emotion.

"Then it's time to!" was the prompt retort. "I'm your fairy, sis, an' to prove it I'm going to hand you over about a hundred dollars worth o' Fift' Avenoo wearin' apparel!"

Even while she spoke, the resplendent apparition began tugging and unbuttoning and unsheathing.

"What d'ye mean, m'm?" asked the vacant-eyed girl with the scrub-rag.

"I mean I'm going to swop with you. Gi'me them shoes an' that gingham skirt an' shirt-waist, quick. Peel 'em off, quick, or I might change me mind! This is your lucky day! An' here's five bones, sis, to seal the bargain!"

Sadie, breathless and writhing, slipped from her