I think.
There would not be time for you to get away. People in these passing
elevators would see you."

Orme turned away and pressed the "down" button, and a few seconds later a
descending car stopped. He pushed his way in, Alcatrante after him.

The elevator was crowded. Clerks and stenographers were beginning to
leave their offices, for the hour was nearly five. Orme wedged his way in
at one side and, in order to gain a momentary sense of seclusion, turned
his back upon the persons who were pressing against him and stood with
face to the side of the cage, looking through the scroll-work of the
grating to the swiftly ascending cables in the next well. He was
conscious that Alcatrante stood close to him as the car began to slip
downward. It was all very ridiculous, this persistent pursuit of him.

Suddenly Alcatrante's voice burst out, "Stop the car! I've been robbed!
Stop the car!"

There was immediate commotion; a girl screamed, and the swaying of the
huddled group made the car rattle. The elevator-man quickly threw over
his lever. The car stopped with a jerk, between floors.

Orme had started to turn with the others, but with a quick exclamation he
checked his movement and pressed his face again to the grating. A
remarkable thing had happened. The ascending car in the next well had
stopped at Alcatrante's outcry. The few passengers it was carrying, eager
to see what was happening, hurried to the side nearest to Orme. Less than
two feet from his face was the face of a girl. Almost before he saw her
at all he knew her. He forgot that he had given her apparent cause to
doubt him; he did not stop to wonder what she was doing in this building.

"Girl!" he whispered.

Her lips parted; her eyes opened wider.

"Girl! Go to Tom Wallingham's office. I'll come up there. Keep out of
sight when you hear me coming. Alcatrante is with me."

She nodded.

"I have the papers," he added, and his heart thumped happily when he saw
joy and gratitude flash into her eyes.

From his position and manner he might have been explaining to her what
was happening in his own car. But now, conscious of the necessity of
taking part in the discussion about him, he reluctantly turned away from
the girl.

Alcatrante was still exclaiming volubly. His purse had disappeared. It
had been in his pocket just before he entered the car. Therefore someone
in the car must have taken it. He did not accuse any single person,
though he flashed suspi