The next afternoon she walked with Bess and George to Oster Street in the business section.
J. J. Smithson proved to be the owner of a small leather-goods shop. He readily answered Nancy’s questions. Francis Baum had worked for him only a few days. “He didn’t like this kind of work,” the man said. “I haven’t seen Baum since the day he quit, but I believe he still lives at Mrs. Kent’s guesthouse nearby.”
Nancy obtained the address, and the girls continued on. Mrs. Kent, the landlady, repeated Francis Baum’s name, then shook her head.
“He was here,” she said, “but moved out.”
“Did he leave a forwarding address?” Nancy asked.
“No, he didn’t. I’ll tell you how you might trace him, though. He sends his laundry to the Eagle Home Service.”
“Isn’t that across the river?” Nancy inquired.
“Yes, it is-a long distance from here.”
The girls thanked Mrs. Kent for the information, then discussed what they should do.
“Let’s go by ferryboat tomorrow,” Bess suggested, and the others agreed.
On the way home Nancy chose a route past the old apartment building where the pickpocket had nearly been caught.
“You don’t expect him to be here!” Bess gasped.
“It won’t hurt to look,” Nancy replied.
Windows on the lower floor were wide open. As the girls slowly passed one of them, they heard angry voices coming from inside.
“You can’t hide here!” a man shouted.
“Sounds like an argument,” said George.
“You know the police may be watching this place!” the man cried out. “You’re not going to get me into trouble! Clear out!”
“I have a hunch the pickpocket is hiding in there,” Nancy whispered.
The argument grew hotter, but suddenly the window was slammed down and the girls could hear no more.
At once Nancy turned to her friends. “George, you and Bess get a policeman! I’ll go into the apartment house and see what I can find out.”
“Please be careful,” Bess warned her friend.
The instant the girls had gone, Nancy entered the building. The outer lobby was deserted. Finding the inner door unlocked, she went into the hallway.
“I wonder which apartment the men are in,” she mused, tiptoeing down the hallway.
Suddenly a door a little distance away from her opened. A man rushed out, slamming it behind him.
He resembled the pickpocket!
Nancy wanted a closer look at him and gazed about for a place to observe him unnoticed. Near her was a telephone booth. She darted inside.
“If he is the pickpocket, I’ll follow him!” she decided.
Unfortunately the man spotted Nancy and recognized her. Angrily he ran toward her.
“This is the pickpocket,” she concluded. “He saw me and knows I heard what was said!”
Fearful that the man meant to harm her, Nancy slammed shut the glass-paneled door of the booth. To her consternation he took a piece of wood from his pocket and wedged it under the crack.
“There! How do you like that?” the pickpocket sneered. He dashed back to the room, opened the door, and shouted a warning to someone inside. Then he ran from the building.
Meanwhile, Nancy pushed with all her strength against the door, but it would not move. The wedge held fast. She was trapped!
Instinctively she searched her purse for a coin to deposit in the telephone and get help, but had none. Thoroughly alarmed, Nancy pounded on the door, but her cries went unheard.
“Oh dear! That pickpocket will be blocks away before I get out of here!” she thought.
The wedge beneath the door could not be moved, even when she pried at it with a nail file. The bit of steel broke in her hand.
Nancy’s frustration changed to desperation. “I’ll smash the glass with the heel of my shoe!”
Fortunately at that moment Bess and George arrived with a policeman. Nancy’s shouts drew their attention.
“The thief escaped!” she gasped as the officer jerked open the door. “He locked me in here, and then ran out the front door.”
“Front door? Why, when we were up the street,” said George, “we saw a man climb through one of the windows. Officer Kelly chased him, but he had too big a start.”
“That must have been the pickpocket’s pal in the apartment,” Nancy replied, adding, “When the thief warned him about me, he escaped through the window so I couldn’t identify him later.”
“Which door did the fellow you saw come out of?” Officer Kelly asked.
Nancy pointed. “I think it was the third one.”
The officer rapped sharply on it. For several seconds there was no answer. Then the door opened a crack. A woman peered into the halL “What do you want?” she asked, frightened. The policeman walked into the untidy room. “There’s no one here except me,” the woman whined. “Who are you after?”
“A pickpocket who hid in this building.”
“Not in my rooms,” the woman maintained.
“Didn’t someone jump from a window here?”
“No!”
“Do you live alone?” the officer inquired.
“Well, no, I got a husband,” the woman answered. “He has a cousin who sticks around here sometimes when he’s in trouble.”
“Trouble?”
“Cordova has a way of gettin’ mixed up in things,” the woman answered with a shrug. “But I ain’t sayin’ it’s dishonest.”
“This man Cordova-” Nancy put in, “he’s about thirty, isn’t he, medium height and walks with short, quick steps?”
“Yeah, that sounds like him,” the woman muttered.
Officer Kelly asked a few additional questions before leaving, but he could not get an admission from her that either the husband or the cousin had been there a few minutes before.
“I’ll check up on her,” the policeman promised as he said good-by to Nancy and her friends. “We’ll watch this building and try to catch that pickpocket.”
Shortly afterward, Nancy left Bess and George at the library, then decided to stop at Mr. Faber’s shop. She was nearly there when she met her father.
“Fancy meeting you here!” she said, grinning.
“I’ve been interviewing a client in this neighborhood,” Mr. Drew told her.
“Have you a free moment, Dad?” Nancy asked.
“Sure do. I’m between appointments.” He smiled affectionately.
“Then I have an idea!” Nancy cried, her gaze roving to the creaking business sign which bore Faber’s name. “You must see this shop.” To herself she added, “Maybe I can find out what Dad would like for a birthday present.”
“I’m not going to buy anything!” insisted the lawyer.
Giving Mr. Drew no opportunity to protest further, his daughter steered him inside. Mr. Faber seemed genuinely pleased to meet the lawyer, and at a wink from Nancy immediately asked about his likes and dislikes in art objects.
“Oh, anything goes with me,” Mr. Drew replied pleasantly. “But I’d like to look around.”
The little man beamed. As Mr. Drew moved off to view the collection in the cluttered shop, Mr. Faber whispered to Nancy, “A gentleman’s box would be exactly right for your distinguished-looking father.
“In ancient times a gentleman was known by the personal chest he carried when traveling,” the dealer went on, warming to his subject. “A lady was judged by her jewel box. Jewels always have been a convenient kind of wealth to carry-far easier than money. Rulers forced to flee from their countries in time of war usually saved part of their fortunes that way.”
“And sold them to get money?” Nancy asked.
“Exactly.”
“Speaking of jewels,” said Nancy, “how could Mrs. Alexandra bring so many valuables with her when she fled from her country?”
“Madame is a very clever woman,” the shop owner replied. “She carried a small fortune secreted in a jewel box. It was so unique that it deceived everyone. Her only other possession was the handsome Easter egg case.”
“But I saw so many lovely things in her home,” Nancy declared as her father rejoined them.