It was the baby, of course, that decided me. You can't be very enterprising when you're carrying a pink lump of sweetness that's all a-smile at the moment, but may get all a-tear the next. "It's you for the nearest police station, you young tough!" I said, squeezing her. "I can't take you home now and show you to Mag." But she giggled and gurgled back at me, the abandoned thing, as though the police station was just the properest place for a young lady of her years. It was not so very near, either, that station. My arm ached when I got there from carrying her, but my heart ached, too, to leave her. I told the matron how and where the little thing had picked me up. At first she wouldn't leave me, but--the fickle little thing--a glass of milk transferred all her smiles and wiles to the matron. Then we both went over her clothes to find a name or an initial or a laundry mark. But we found nothing. The matron offered me a glass of milk, too, but I was in a hurry to be gone. She was a nice matron; so nice that I was just about to ask her for the loan of car-fare when-- When I heard a voice, Maggie, in the office adjoining. I knew that voice all right, and I knew that I had to make a decision quick. I did. I threw the whole thing into the lap of Fate. And when I opened the door and faced him I was smiling. Oh, yes, it was Tausig. XIV. He started as though he couldn't believe his eyes when he saw me. "The Lord hath delivered mine enemy into my hand," shone in his evil little face. "Why, Mr. Tausig," I cried, before he could get his breath. "How odd to meet you here! Did you find a baby, too?" "Did I find--" He glared at me. "I find you; that's enough. Now--" "But the luncheon was to be at twelve-thirty," I laughed. "And I haven't changed my dress yet." "You'll change it all right for something not so becoming if you don't shell out that paper." "Paper?" "Yes, paper. Look here, if you give it back to me this minute--now--I'll not prosecute you for--for--" "For the sake of my reputation?" I suggested softly. "Yes." He looked doubtfully at me, mistrusting the amiable deference of my manner. "That would be awfully good of you," I murmured. He did not answer, but watched me as though he wasn't sure which way I'd jump the next moment. "I wonder what could induce you to be so forgiving," I went on musingly. "What sort of paper is this you miss? It must be valuable--" "Yes, it's valuable all right. Come on, now! Quit your fooling and get down to business. I'm going to have that paper." "Do you know, Mr. Tausig," I said impulsively, "if I were you, and anybody had stolen a valuable paper from me, I'd have him arrested. I would. I should not care a rap what the public exposure did to his reputation, so long--so long," I grinned right up at him, "so long as it didn't hurt me, myself, in the eyes of the law."