The Law and Miss Mary. Dorothy Clark

mayor stopped his drumming, glanced around. “Gentlemen, we must find a way to get these ragamuffins off our streets. We can hardly pass a law denying all children that right—we have children of our own. And the people we are trying to attract for permanent settlement must be made to feel St. Louis is an ideal place for them to rear their children. They must feel we welcome their children as future productive citizens of St. Louis society. Have any of you a solution to offer?”

      The aldermen shifted in their chairs, knit their brows and studied the table. Silence fell.

      Sam held back a scowl. It seemed Miss Randolph’s interference with that boy’s arrest had stirred up a pile of trouble. He turned his hat in his hands and waited.

      Alderman Field cleared his throat, leaned forward and looked toward the mayor at the head of the table. “What if we pass a law to the effect that any child under the age of twelve who is not a citizen of St. Louis must be accompanied by an adult when in town?”

      The mayor leaned back in his chair, rested the heels of his hands on the table and drummed his fingers. After a moment he nodded. “That might work, Arthur. If any outsider questions the law, we will explain it is for the children’s safety. Yes. That might work.” The mayor’s gaze shifted.

      Sam straightened.

      “Would that law give you the authority you need to get these dirty, unkempt jackanapes off our streets, Captain?”

      “It would. As long as they are not accompanied by an adult, Mr. Mayor.”

      “Excellent! Excellent! All in favor of such a law?” The mayor smiled at the affirmative chorus. “Let the record show the law passed by unanimous vote. Captain Benton, you are hereby instructed to procure posters giving notice of the new law and post them in plain sight at the fields outside of town where these wagon trains form. And that, gentlemen, should settle our problem.”

      “And create another, Mr. Mayor.”

      The mayor’s smile dissolved into another frown. “And what problem is that, Captain?”

      “What do I do with the children I arrest? Our jail is meant for adults. There are no provisions for young—” Sam stopped, stared at the mayor’s uplifted hand and held his silence.

      “Your concern is misplaced, Captain. Those urchins are accustomed to rough conditions. They need no special provisions. Jail will likely be an improvement on their present living conditions. Now…you have heard the law, and you have your instructions. I am certain you will carry them out in your usual exemplary fashion. And that concludes our business. This meeting is adjourned.”

      

      Sam unlocked the cell door and pulled it open. “All right, Larkin, time’s up. You’re free to go. And stay sober. You cut up another man and I’ll lock you up and throw away the key.”

      The large, bearded man rose from the cot and swaggered toward him. “Your threat don’t scare me, Captain.”

      “That’s a shame. Because it should.” Sam smiled, a quiet smile that carried a promise, and stepped back to let Larkin pass. The big man’s boots thudded against the plank floor, fading as he crossed the outer room. The outside door opened, then slammed shut.

      The jail was empty again. But for how long? Sam glanced into the vacant cells. Thanks to the mayor’s ridiculous law they would soon be filled with children. And what would he do with them? Grown men he could handle. But youngsters?

      He frowned, strode to the outer room and dropped into his chair. One of those cells would already be occupied by a boy if Miss Randolph had not interfered.

      He scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck, then shoved his heels against the floor and rocked back on the chair’s hind legs. The look in those brown eyes of hers when he had been about to arrest that little thief had made him feel lower than a worm’s belly. But when she had looked at the boy…

      Sam shook his head, laced his hands behind his neck and stared up at the crack in the ceiling. Why had she been so concerned about a boy she didn’t even know? And what was she hiding? Why didn’t she want him to know where she was from? Not that that was rare on the frontier. Plenty of people who came west didn’t want their past known. Still, if it had anything to do with her brother and the M and M line…

      Sam shifted his weight, rode the chair forward till the front legs hit the floor. It was time to pay that call on James Randolph. Maybe he would be more forthcoming than his sister.

      

      Mary stepped back toward the edge of the street and scanned the storefronts. Shoes…candles…cigars…

      “You look a little lost, Miss Randolph.”

      She gasped, and spun around to stare at a blue shirt. One with a badge pinned to it. She lifted her gaze to Samuel Benton’s face. Blue eyes gazed down at her.

      “I did not mean to startle you, Miss Randolph. Only to assist you—if I am able to do so.” He smiled and indicated the package in her basket. “I see you are doing some shopping. I hope you are finding our stores compare favorably with the ones you left behind in…”

      “I have only been in one shop thus far, Captain Benton. That is hardly enough to make any comparisons.” Mary looked again at the storefronts. The man’s presence scattered her wits, and she needed to keep her senses about her. That was the second time he had tried to find out where she had lived back east. “I was searching for an emporium. Or a haberdasher.” She glanced up at him. “I need to buy some items for Ben. Suspenders and such. If you would be so kind as to direct me?”

      “Miss Mayfield’s Emporium is five stores down, just before the corner.” He stepped out of the way of shoppers passing by. “I’m glad I happened upon you, Miss Randolph. You have saved me an embarrassment. I’m on my way to speak with your brother and I thought his name was James, not Ben.”

      “My brother’s name is James, Captain Benton. Ben is the young boy I took home yesterday.” She gave him a cool look. “The boy you wanted to arrest.”

      “You took that boy home with you?”

      Mary stiffened. “You need not look so shocked, Captain. Indeed, I find it offensive that you deem me the sort of person who would leave a child to roam the streets starving and uncared for.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “What else was I to do but take him home with me? Let him be jailed?” Her challenge hit the mark, judging from the darkening of his blue eyes.

      “What else—” He stopped, stared at her and sucked in air.

      A surge of satisfaction flooded her. The man looked quite nettled. Good. Perhaps he would not be so eager to arrest another helpless child. She peered at him and waited.

      “I assure you, Miss Randolph, I meant no offense.”

      Her hope flattened. So he was not going to change his mind about arresting children. She gave him a curt nod. “If that is so, Captain, then I accept your apology. Good day.” She whisked about with a swirl of her long skirts and started down the street, focusing her attention on the storefronts. She refused to acknowledge her disappointment or to look back in spite of the tense feeling between her shoulder blades that told her he was staring after her.

      

      Sam fisted his hand and rapped on the partially open door. This interview should be interesting if James Randolph was half as exasperating as his sister. That woman was undeniably the most sharp-tongued, irritating—

      The door opened. Sam wiped the scowl from his face.

      “Ah, Captain Benton. Come in.”

      “Mr. Randolph.” Sam closed the door of James Randolph’s office, shut all thought of the man’s sister from his mind and extended his hand. Randolph’s gaze was straightforward and friendly, his grip firm.

      “How may I be of service, Captain?”

      Sam shook his head. “There is nothing in particular,