Scheherazade

At the Orangeville garage Neeland stopped his car, put on his straw
hat, got out carrying suitcase and box, entered the office, and turned
over the care of the machine to an employee with orders to drive it
back to Neeland's Mills the next morning.

Then he leisurely returned to his prisoner who had given him her name
as Ilse Dumont and who was standing on the sidewalk beside the car.

"Well, Scheherazade," he said, smiling, "teller of marvellous tales, I
don't quite believe your stories, but they were extremely
entertaining. So I won't bowstring you or cut off your unusually
attractive head! No! On the contrary, I thank you for your
wonder-tales, and for not murdering me. And, furthermore, I bestow
upon you your liberty. Have you sufficient cash to take you where you
desire to waft yourself?"

All the time her dark, unsmiling eyes remained fixed on him, calmly
unresponsive to his badinage.

"I'm sorry I had to be rough with you, Scheherazade," he continued,
"but when a young lady sews her clothes full of papers which don't
belong to her, what, I ask you, is a modest young man to do?"

She said nothing.

"It becomes necessary for that modest young man to can his
modesty--and the young lady's. Is there anything else he could do?" he
repeated gaily.

"He had better return those papers," she replied in a low voice.

"I'm sorry, Scheherazade, but it isn't done in ultra-crooked circles.
Are you sure you have enough money to go where destiny and booty call
you?"