"'To my dear niece I must explain why she is not named as my heiress. My father married twice. By his first wife he had a son, William, and by my own mother, my sister and myself. When he died, my half-brother, William, was ten years my senior, and had amassed a considerable fortune, whereas I found myself penniless and dependent upon his bounty. He was not a generous man, but he presented me a bank-note for a thousand pounds, and paid my passage to this country. My first impulse, after my arrival, was to make my way as rapidly as I could, and then to return to William the identical bank-note which he had given me. For this reason I used it as collateral, and borrowed money, instead of changing it for American currency. By the time the note was again in my possession my brother had given me another proof of his recognition of our consanguinity, and I decided that it would be churlish to carry out my intention. Recently William lost his entire fortune in unfortunate speculations, and the shock killed him. Before he died he gave his son Robert a letter to me, reminding me that all that I owned had been the fruit of his bounty, and claiming from me a share of my fortune for his son. I took Robert into my house, and I am bound to say that I have not learned to love him. This, however, may be a prejudice, due to the fact that he had come between me and my wish to make Alice my heiress. It may be in recognition of the possibility of this prejudice that I feel compelled to ease my conscience by bequeathing to William's sonthe fortune which grew out of William's bounty. The original bank-note, however, was a free gift to me, and I certainly may dispose of it as I please. I ask my niece Alice to accept it from me, as all that my conscience permits me to call my own.'"
"'To my dear niece I must explain why she is not named as my heiress. My father married twice. By his first wife he had a son, William, and by my own mother, my sister and myself. When he died, my half-brother, William, was ten years my senior, and had amassed a considerable fortune, whereas I found myself penniless and dependent upon his bounty. He was not a generous man, but he presented me a bank-note for a thousand pounds, and paid my passage to this country. My first impulse, after my arrival, was to make my way as rapidly as I could, and then to return to William the identical bank-note which he had given me. For this reason I used it as collateral, and borrowed money, instead of changing it for American currency. By the time the note was again in my possession my brother had given me another proof of his recognition of our consanguinity, and I decided that it would be churlish to carry out my intention. Recently William lost his entire fortune in unfortunate speculations, and the shock killed him. Before he died he gave his son Robert a letter to me, reminding me that all that I owned had been the fruit of his bounty, and claiming from me a share of my fortune for his son. I took Robert into my house, and I am bound to say that I have not learned to love him. This, however, may be a prejudice, due to the fact that he had come between me and my wish to make Alice my heiress. It may be in recognition of the possibility of this prejudice that I feel compelled to ease my conscience by bequeathing to William's sonthe fortune which grew out of William's bounty. The original bank-note, however, was a free gift to me, and I certainly may dispose of it as I please. I ask my niece Alice to accept it from me, as all that my conscience permits me to call my own.'"
"An interesting and curious statement," commented Mr. Mitchel. "Now tell me about the vanishment of the note."
"There is my difficulty. I have so little to tell. After reading the will, I laid it down, and reached out my hand, intending to give the bank-note to Alice, whereupon I discovered that it had disappeared."
"Tell me exactly where each person was seated."
"We were all at this table, which, you see, is small. I sat at this end, Alice at my right hand, young Eggleston at my left, and Lumley opposite to me."
"So that all three were easily within reach of the bank-note when you placed it upon the table? That complicates matters. Well, when you discovered that you could not find the note, who spoke first, and what comment was made?"
"I cannot be certain. I was stunned, and the others seemed as much surprised as I was. I remember that Eggleston asked Alice whether she had picked it up, adding, 'It is yours, you know.' But she made an indignant denial. Lumley said nothing, but sat looking at us as though seeking an explanation. Then I recall that Eggleston made a very practical suggestion."
"Ah, what was that?"
"He laughed as he did so, but what he said was reasonable enough. In substance it was, that if each person in the room were searched, and the note not found, it would thus be proven that it had merely been blown from the table by some draught, in which case a thorough search should find it."
"Was his suggestion acted upon?"
"You may be sure of that. I declined once to allow my guests to be searched when that fellow Thauret suggested it, at the time of the ruby robbery. And you will remember that the scoundrel himself had the jewel. That taught me a lesson. Therefore when Eggleston made his suggestion, I began with him. The search was thorough, I assure you, but I found nothing. I had as little success with Lumley, and I even examined my own pockets, with the vague hope that I might have inadvertently put the note in one of them. But all my looking was in vain."
"Might not one of these men have secreted the bank-note elsewhere, and then have possessed himself of it after your search?"
"I took care to prevent that. As soon as I had gone through Eggleston, I unceremoniously bundled him out of the room. I did the same with Lumley, and neither has been allowed in here since."
"What about the young lady?"
"It would be absurd to suspect her. The note was her property. Still she insisted upon my searchingher, and I examined her pocket. Of course, I found nothing."
"Ah, you only examined her pocket. Well, under the circumstances, I suppose that was all you could do. Thus, having sent the three persons out of the room, you think that the bank-note is still here. A natural deduction, only I wish that the woman might have been more thoroughly searched. I suppose you have looked about the room?"
"I sent for Mr. Barnes, and he and I made a most careful search."
"What view does he take of the case?"
Before Mr. Van Rawlston could reply there was a sharp ring at the door-bell, and a moment later Mr. Barnes himself was ushered in.
"Speak of the Devil, and his imps appear," said Mr. Mitchel, jocularly. "Well, Mr. Imp of Satan, what luck? Has your patron assisted you? Have you had the Devil's own luck, and solved this problem before I fairly got my wits upon it? You look flushed with victory."
"I did not know you were to be called in, Mr. Mitchel," replied Mr. Barnes, "and I am sorry if you shall be disappointed, but really, I think I can explain this affair. The truth is, it did not strike me as very complex."
"Hear that," exclaimed Mr. Mitchel. "Not complex! The sudden vanishing of a thousand-pound note, before the very eyes, and under the very noses, as it were, of four persons, not complex!The Devil certainly has sharpened your wits; eh, Mr. Barnes?"
"Oh, I don't mind your chaffing. Let me explain why I considered this case simple. You will agree that the note was either mislaid or stolen?"
"Logical deduction number one," cried Mr. Mitchel, turning down a finger of the right hand.
"It was not mislaid, or we would have found it. Therefore it was stolen."
"A doubtful point, Mr. Barnes," said Mr. Mitchel, "but we will give you the benefit of the doubt, and call it logical deduction number two." He turned down another finger.
"If stolen the note was taken by one of three persons," pursued the detective.
"He leaves you out of it, Van Rawlston. Well, I suppose I must give you the benefit of the doubt this time. So there goes L. D. number three." He dropped another finger.
"Of these three, one actually owned the note, and another had just heard of the inheritance of a large fortune. The third, therefore, comes under suspicion."
"Illogical deduction number one," said Mr. Mitchel, sharply, as he turned down a finger of the left hand.
"Why illogical?" asked the detective.
"First, people have been known to steal their own goods; second, rich men are often thieves. Mr. Lumley, being in love with the owner of the note, was as unlikely to steal it as she was herself."
"Suppose that he had stolen it before he heard that his sweetheart was to inherit it?"
"In that case, of course, he may have desired to return it, and yet not have had the opportunity."
"Such was probably the fact. That he stole the note I am reasonably certain."
"How did he get it out of this room?" asked Mr. Van Rawlston.
"He must have hidden it elsewhere than in his pockets," said Mr. Barnes. "You overlooked the fact, Mr. Van Rawlston, that you cannot thoroughly search a man in the presence of a lady."
"Good point," exclaimed Mr. Mitchel. "You have your wits about you to-day, Mr. Barnes. Now tell us what you have learned in corroboration of your theory."
"Lumley is in love with Miss Hetheridge. Up to a few hours ago, he was a clerk, upon a salary not sufficient to permit him to marry. Curiously enough, for one would hardly have thought him so foolish, when he left this house he went direct to his employer and resigned his position. Next, I traced him to a business agency, where he obtained an option to purchase a partnership in a good concern, agreeing to pay five thousand dollars for the same."
"Five thousand dollars! About one thousand pounds," said Mr. Mitchel, thoughtfully.
"The scoundrel!" cried Mr. Van Rawlston. "Undoubtedly he is the thief. I trust you have arrested him, Mr. Barnes?"
"No. He left the city by a train leaving the Grand Central an hour ago."
"Track him, Mr. Barnes. Track him to the end of the earth if necessary. Spare no money. I'll pay the expense." Mr. Van Rawlston was excited.
"I do not know his destination," said the detective, "but, fortunately, the train is a 'local,' and he cannot go far on it. I will do my best to catch up with him. But no time is to be lost."
As he hurried out, Mr. Mitchel shouted after him:
"Luck, and the Devil go with you, Mr. Barnes." Then, turning to Mr. Van Rawlston, he continued: "After all, shrewd detective though he be, Mr. Barnes may be on the wrong scent. The note may still be in this house. I do not like to say in this room, after your thorough search. Still, if it could be managed, without the knowledge of Eggleston and Miss Hetheridge, I would like to remain here to-night."
"You wish to make a search yourself, eh? Very good. I will arrange it. By the way, I should tell you that there is to be an auction here to-morrow. Eggleston had arranged a sale of his library before his sudden death, and as the date was fixed and the catalogues sent to all possible buyers, we have thought best to allow the sale to proceed. This being the library, you will see the necessity for settling this mystery before to-morrow, if possible."
"A crowd coming here to-morrow? Excellent. Nothing could be better. Rest easy, Van Rawlston. If Barnes does not recover the bank-note, I will."
It was already nine o'clock in the evening, and Mr. Van Rawlston decided to go to his own home. Upon inquiry he learned that Eggleston was not in the house, and that Miss Hetheridge was in her room. He dismissed the servant, and locked Mr. Mitchel in the library. Next he went up-stairs to Miss Hetheridge, told her that he had thought best to lock the library door, and bade her good-night. Passing out to the street, he handed the door-key to Mr. Mitchel through the front window.
Left thus alone in a strange house, Mr. Mitchel dropped into an easy chair and began to analyze the situation. He did not light the gas, as that would have betrayed his presence, but the glowing grate-fire shed light enough for him to see about him.
Mr. Eggleston had amassed a great collection of books, for the library was a long room occupying the whole of one side of the house, the parlors being on the opposite side of the hallway. Windows in front overlooked the street, and at the back opened upon a small yard. Just below these back windows extended a shed, the roof of an extension, which served as a laundry.
Mr. Mitchel went over in his mind the incidents which had been related to him, and two of his conclusions are worthy of note here:
"Barnes argues," thought he, "that Lumley may have taken the bank-note before he knew that it had been bequeathed to his sweetheart. But the same holds good with the girl herself, and might well explain her stealing what was really her ownproperty. That is one point worth bearing in mind, but the best of all is my scheme for finding the note itself. Why should I trouble myself with a search which might occupy me all night, when by waiting I may see the thief take the note from its present hiding-place, always supposing that it is in this room? Decidedly, patience is a virtue in this instance, and I have only to wait."
A couple of hours later, Mr. Mitchel started up from a slight doze, and realized that he had been disturbed, though at first he could not tell by what.
Then he heard a sound which indicated that someone was fitting a key into the lock. Perhaps the thief was coming! This thought awakened him to his full faculties, and he quickly hid among the folds of some heavy draperies which served upon occasion to divide the room into two apartments. The door opened, and he heard the stealthy tread of soft footsteps, though at first the figure of the intruder was hidden from his view by the draperies which surrounded him. In a few moments his suspense was at an end. A young woman, of girlish figure, passed by him and went over to the fireplace. She was in a dainty night-robe, her long black hair hanging in rich profusion down her back. She leaned against the mantel, and gazed into the fire without moving, for some minutes, and then turning suddenly, crossed the room, going directly to one of the book-shelves. Here she paused, then took down several books which she placed upon a chair near by. Her back was towards Mr. Mitchel, buthe could see her reach into the recess with her arm, which was bared by the act, the loose sleeve of her gown falling aside. Then there was a clicking sound just perceptible to the ear, and Mr. Mitchel muttered to himself:
"A secret closet, with a spring catch."
In another moment, the girl was replacing the books, and, this done, she hurried from the library, locking the door after her. Mr. Mitchel emerged from his hiding-place, and, going to the shelf where the girl had been, removed the books and searched for the spring which would unlock the secret compartment. It was not easily found, but Mr. Mitchel was a patient and persistent man, and after nearly an hour discovered the way of removing a sliding panel, and took an envelope from the recess behind. Carrying this to the fireplace, he dropped to his knees, and withdrawing its contents, held in his hand a Bank of England note for one thousand pounds. He looked at it, smiled, and said in a low tone:
"And Mr. Barnes was so certain that he would catch the thief!" Then he smiled again, replaced the books on the shelf, decided that the large sofa might serve as a comfortable bed, and so went to sleep.
He was awakened early, by a sense of cold. Starting up, for a moment dazed by his unfamiliar surroundings, he gazed first at the gray ashes of the dead fire in the grate, and then looked towards the windows thickly covered with frost, and shivered.Remembering where he was, he threw his arms about, and walked up and down the long room to start his blood moving, and induce a little warmth. Presently he went to the back windows and looked at the beautiful frosting, which resembled long fern leaves. Suddenly he seemed unusually interested, and especially attracted to one of the panes. He examined this closely, and taking a note-book from his pocket made a rapid sketch of the pattern on the glass. Then he raised the sash, looked out upon the shed, and emitted a low whistle. Next he stepped out through the window, went down on his hands and knees upon the tinned roof, and looked closely at something which he saw there. Returning to the room, one would have said that his next act was the most curious of all. He again opened the secret panel, and replaced the envelope containing the bank-note. Then he went to the table where Mr. Van Rawlston claimed that the note had vanished, and he sat in the chair where Mr. Van Rawlston had been when he read the will.
Several hours later when Mr. Van Rawlston came in, Mr. Mitchel was sitting in the same chair looking through a Bible.
"Well," said Mr. Van Rawlston. "How did you pass the night? Did the thief pay you a visit?"
"I think so," replied Mr. Mitchel.
"Then you know who took the note?" asked Mr. Van Rawlston, eagerly.
"Perhaps; I do not like to jump to conclusions.This is a magnificent Bible, Mr. Van Rawlston. Is it in the sale to-day? If so, I think I will bid on it."
"Oh, yes; it is to be sold," replied Mr. Van Rawlston, testily. He thought Mr. Mitchel merely wished to change the subject, and at that moment he was more interested in bank-notes than in Bibles. He had no idea that Mr. Mitchel really coveted the Bible. But then he did not know that Mr. Mitchel collected books as well as gems. He was therefore much astonished, some hours later, when the auction was in progress, to find Mr. Mitchel not only bidding on the Bible, but bidding heavily.
At first the bidding was spiritless, and the price rose slowly until Mr. Mitchel made an offer of five hundred dollars. After a moment's hesitation young Eggleston bid fifty dollars more, and it was seen that the contest was now between him and Mr. Mitchel. Bidding fifty dollars at a time the price rose to nine hundred dollars, when Eggleston remarked:
"I bid nine-fifty," then turned to Mr. Mitchel and added, "This is a family relic, sir, and I hope you will not raise me again."
"This is an open sale, I believe," said Mr. Mitchel, bowing coldly. "I offer a thousand dollars."
"One thousand and fifty," added Eggleston, quickly.
At this moment Mr. Barnes entered the room, accompanied by a short, young man, and Mr. Mitchel's attention seemed attracted away from theBible. The auctioneer noticing this, called him by name, and asked if he wished to bid again.
"One moment, please," said Mr. Mitchel. "May I look again at the volume?"
It was passed to him, and he appeared to scrutinize it closely, started slightly as though making a discovery, and handed it back, saying:
"I have made a mistake. I supposed that this was a genuine Soncino, but I find that it is only a reprint." Then he turned to Eggleston with a curious smile, and said, "You may have the family relic. I shall not bid against you."
The auction over, the crowd dispersed, and when all strangers had departed, Mr. Mitchel nodded meaningly to Mr. Barnes, and approached young Eggleston, who was tying up the Bible in paper. Touching him upon the arm, he said very quietly:
"Mr. Eggleston, I must ask the officer here to arrest you!"
Eggleston's hands quivered over the knot, and he seemed too agitated to speak. The detective realizing that Mr. Mitchel had solved the problem, quickly stepped closer to Eggleston.
"What does this mean?" asked Mr. Van Rawlston.
"Call Miss Hetheridge, and I will explain," said Mr. Mitchel.
"No, no! Not before her!" cried Eggleston, breaking down completely. "I confess! I loved Alice, and wished to make it impossible for her to marry Lumley. The note is here! Here, in theBible. I stole it, and hid it there!" With nervous fingers he tore off the wrappings, and rapidly turning the pages searched for the note. "Heavens! It is not here!" He looked at Mr. Mitchel inquiringly.
"No; it is not there. You paid too much for that Bible. Mr. Van Rawlston, I prefer to have the lady called, if you please."
Mr. Van Rawlston left the room, and Mr. Mitchel addressed Mr. Barnes.
"By the way, Barnes, have you abandoned your theory?"
"I suppose I must now, though I had not up to a moment ago. I found Mr. Lumley, and accused him of the theft. He would offer no explanation, but willingly agreed to return with me."
"We seem to have arrived just in time," said Mr. Lumley, quietly.
"In the very nick of time, as you shall hear," said Mr. Mitchel. "Ah, here is Miss Hetheridge. Will you be seated, please, Miss Hetheridge." He bowed courteously as the young woman sat down, and then proceeded.
"I did not think that the bank-note had been removed from this room. Why? Because I argued that the theft and the hiding must have necessarily occupied but a moment; a chosen moment when the attention of all three others was attracted away from the table where it lay. The one chance was that Miss Hetheridge may have hidden it in the folds of her gown. The men's pockets seemed tooinaccessible. I agreed with Mr. Barnes, that the lady would scarcely steal what was her own, though even that was possible if she did not know that it was to be hers. For a similar reason, I did not suspect Mr. Lumley, and thus by elimination there was but one person left upon whom to fasten suspicion. I supposed he would return here during the night to recover the bank-note, and I remained in this room to watch for him."
At this Miss Hetheridge made a movement of her lips as though about to speak, but no words escaped, and she shrank back in her chair.
"During the night," proceeded Mr. Mitchel, "Miss Hetheridge came into this room, and hid something. After she had left the room, relocking the door with a duplicate key, I found what she had hidden. It was a one thousand-pound note."
There was silence for a moment, then Miss Hetheridge cried out:
"I can explain!"
"That is why I sent for you," said Mr. Mitchel.
"The note was my own," said the girl, speaking rapidly, "but after the disappearance of the other, I was afraid to have it in my room lest it be found, and seem to inculpate me. I only received it a few days before my dear uncle died. He told me that his brother William had sent it as a present to my mother upon her marriage, but as he had doubted the good intentions of my father, he had kept the matter a secret. As both my parents died, he had held the note in trust for me. He did not invest it,because he thought that his own fortune would be an ample legacy to leave me. A short time before he died, I passed my twenty-first birthday, and he gave me the note. That is the whole truth."
"To which I can testify," interjected Mr. Lumley. "And I may now add that Miss Hetheridge had not only promised to be my wife, but she offered me the use of her money to buy the partnership, which to Mr. Barnes seemed such a suspicious act."
"I have only to explain then," continued Mr. Mitchel, "how it was that I decided that Miss Hetheridge was not the thief. This morning I found heavy frost on the window-panes. Upon one, however, I noticed a circular, transparent spot, where the pattern of the frosting had been obliterated. Instantly I comprehended what had occurred. The thief, the real thief, had come in the night, or rather in the morning, for I know almost the hour. He stood upon the shed outside, and melted the frost by breathing upon the pane, with his mouth close to the glass. Thus making a peep-hole, he must have seen me asleep on the sofa, and so knew that it would be useless for him to attempt an entrance. As the person who did this trick stood upon the shed, I had but to measure the distance from the shed to his peep-hole to be able to guess his height, which I estimated to be more than six feet. Next, there was some very interesting evidence in the frost on the tin roof. The marks made by the man's feet, or his heels rather, for the frostwas so light that only the impressions of the nails in the heels would show. My own made complete little horseshoe-shaped marks composed of dots. But those of my predecessor were scarcely more than half a curve, which proved that he walks on the side of his foot, thus slightly lifting the opposite side from the ground, or roof, as it was in this instance. This much decided me that Miss Hetheridge was not the thief, and I returned her bank-note to the place where she had hidden it. Then I sat at the table where the will was read, and studied the situation. The easiest way to hide the note quickly seemed to be to slip it into the Bible which stood on the table. Therefore I was not surprised when I found the bank-note which I have here."
He drew forth the bank-note from his pocket and handed it to Mr. Van Rawlston, who asked:
"But why, then, did you try to buy the Bible?"
"I had no idea of doing so. You forget that I had not seen Mr. Lumley. He, too, might have been six feet high, and he, too, might have had the habit of walking on the side of his heel, as I quickly observed that Mr. Eggleston does. With only one of the men before me I decided to run up the price of the Bible, knowing that if he were guilty he would bid over me. Mr. Eggleston followed my lead, and I was almost sure of his guilt, when he made the remark that he was buying a family relic. It was a possible truth, and I was obliged to go on bidding, to see how anxious he was to possess the volume. Then, as I said awhile ago, Mr. Lumley arrived inthe nick of time. One glance at his short stature, and I was ready to let the Bible go."
"You said you could almost tell the hour at which this man peeped through the window," said Mr. Barnes.
"Ah, I see! You wish me to teach you tricks in your own trade, eh? Well, frost forms on a window-pane when the thermometer is near or below thirty-two. On the wall here I found a recording thermometer, which discloses the fact that at three o'clock this morning the temperature was as high as forty-five, while at four it was below thirty. Frost began to form between those hours. At five it was so cold, twenty degrees, that I awoke. Our man must have come between half-past four and five. Had he come before then, his peep-hole would have been fully covered again with frost, whereas it was but thinly iced over, the mere freezing of the water of the melted frost, there being no design, or pattern, as there was over every other part of the window-pane. So I may offer you a new version of an old saw, and say that, 'Frost shows which way a thief goes.'"
A SHADOW OF PROOF
(Letter from Mr. Barnes to Mr. Mitchel)
"My dear Mr. Mitchel:—
"I am leaving town in connection with a matter of considerable importance, and am thus compelled to abandon a little mystery unsolved. It is not a very serious case, yet it presents certain unique features which I fancy would make it attractive to you. I therefore take the liberty of relating to you the occurrence as it was told to me by the person who sought my aid, as well as such steps as have been taken by me towards its elucidation. I must confess, however, at the outset, that though I have learned some things, the knowledge thus gained appears to me to complicate the affair, rather than otherwise.
"Two days ago a district messenger boy brought me a summons, on scented paper. The writer was a woman, who explained that she wished to intrust to me the investigation of 'a great mystery involving the honesty of one or two of our society leaders.' I was urged to call without loss of time, and was at the Madison Avenue mansion within an hour.
"In response to my card, I was shown up to the lady's boudoir, where I found Mrs. Upton eager to unfold her story, which evidently to her mind was of paramount consequence. I accepted an invitation to be seated, and she began at once, assuming a low tone, which was almost a whisper, as though she imagined that when talking with a detective the utmost stealth and secrecy were essential.
"'Mr. Barnes' she began, 'this affair is simply awful. I have been robbed, and the thief is a woman of my own social status. I am horrified to discover that one of my set could stoop so low as to steal. And then the thing itself was such a trifle. A diamond stud, worth two hundred dollars at the outside valuation. What do you think of it?'
"Observe that she had told me little enough before asking for an opinion. She seemed to be a woman of mediocre mental grasp, though perhaps as bright as most of the butterflies that flit about the fashionable ballrooms. I decided to treat her as though she were really very shrewd, and by a little flattery I hoped perhaps to learn more than she might otherwise be willing to confide to a detective, a class of beings whom she too evidently looked upon as necessary evils. I answered her in about these words:
"'Why, Mrs. Upton' said I,'if you really know the thief, and if, as you say, she is a society woman and rich, it would seem to be possibly a case of kleptomania.'
"'Kleptomania?' she exclaimed. 'Kleptomania?Rubbish! That is the excuse all rich women give for what I call plain stealing. But your idea is not new to me. I believe in being perfectly just in these matters. I would not harm a flea, unless he had bitten me; but when he does bite me, I kill him. There are no half-way measures that will suit me. No, Mr. Barnes, there is to be no compromise in this case. I will not condone theft, even if the thief be respectable and rich. And as for kleptomania, as I've said before, I've looked that up. I find it is a sort of insanity. Now there is no insanity in this case. Quite the contrary, I assure you.'
"'You are very keen in your perceptions, Mrs. Upton,' I ventured. 'If we set aside the kleptomania idea, why, then, do you imagine a rich woman would steal a thing of such little value?'
"'Spite!' she snapped back without a moment's hesitation. 'Spite, Mr. Barnes. Let that be your cue. But I must tell you just how this happened. You see, I hold a somewhat influential position in the society of "The Daughters of the Revolution," and because I do have some influence, I am constantly bothered by people who could not become members rightfully, if their titles were closely scrutinized; so they undertake to gain their end through me. They grow suddenly attentive, effusive, gushing. I am their "dearest friend," they think me "so charming," "so beautiful," "so delightfully cosmopolitan and yet so exclusive." To hear them talk you would be persuaded that I belong to bothBelgravia and Bohemia in the same moment. But I usually see through their wiles, and long before they broach the subject I say to myself, "My dear madame, you want one of our society badges to pin on your breast; that is whatyouare after." Then at last comes the note asking for a "confidential interview," and when I grant it a lot of documents are shown to me which are meant to uphold the candidate's claim to membership. But there is always the little flaw, the bar sinister as it were, which they hope to override through influence; through my influence, which I may state, they never get.'
"'Ah, then, this lady, whom you suspect of taking your stud, had hoped to join your society?'
"'I cannot answer that with a single word. I cannot say either yes or no. You see, there are two women.'
"'Oh, I thought you knew the thief?'
"'So I do. I know it is one of two women. If I knew exactly which, of course I should not need your help. But you have interrupted my story. Where was I?'
"She evidently thought me an ass.
"'Oh, yes,' she resumed. 'I was telling you how people bother me to get into our society. Well, a woman of that kind has been fairly running after me all winter. She is a Mrs. Merivale. She was born an Ogden, and some of the Ogden branch are fully entitled to membership. But, unfortunately for her, she traces back to the brother of the RevolutionaryOgden, andherancestor, far from fighting for our independence, is said to have made quite a tidy fortune by observing a shrewd neutrality; sometimes crying for England and sometimes the reverse, according to the company present. Of course, that is not Mrs. Merivale's fault; it all happened too long ago for her to have had any influence. But, you see, she is not in the direct line, and we only recognize the direct line. Heavens! if we did not, who knows where we would end? No, collateral branches are out of it, so far as our society is concerned, and I told her so plainly this morning. Of course, you can see how she might be spiteful about it. It was a great disappointment to her.'
"'Then you think this Mrs. Merivale took your stud just to annoy you?'
"'Dear me; how stupid you are! Did I not tell you there were two women? The other is Mrs. Ogden Beaumont. You see she clings to the family name. She also was an Ogden, and in the line. She is a member, and she had considerable influence in our society at one time. But she lost it by just such schemes as she is trying to persuade me into. She manœuvred till she had two or three of her friends elected, who have even less claim than her cousin, Mrs. Merivale. Finally, it got so that if she were to propose a name, the Membership Committee would be suspicious at once. Now she wants Mrs. Merivale elected, and according to her little plan I was to be the cat's paw. The scheming of those two women to get into my good graces hasbeen a source of amusement to me all winter, and the climax came this morning, when I told them both very frankly that I had seen through them from the start. Mrs. Merivale was horribly disappointed, but she behaved like a lady. I must admit that, though she said some bitter things, things she will be sorry for, I assure you. But Mrs. Beaumont just lost all control of her temper. She stormed and raged, and said vile things, all of which had as little effect on me as a pea-shooter would against the rock of Gibraltar. So the two women went off, and in less than five minutes I discovered that my diamond stud had gone with them.'
"'Gone with them? Of that you are sure?'
"'Of course I am sure. Do you suppose I would make such a charge without knowing that I am in the right? Come with me, and I will convince you.'
"She led the way into a little anteroom next to her boudoir. It was not more than eight feet square, and not crowded with furniture. The floor of hardwood, covered by one large silk rug, afforded little opportunity to lose anything by dropping it. There were four chairs, a small reading-lounge, a revolving case filled with novels, a handsome piano-lamp, and a little tea-table with all requisites for making tea.
"'This is my little den where I retire when I am wearied by people and things,' continued Mrs. Upton. 'Here I am surrounded by my friends, the people that our best writers have created. I love my books, and I get as fond of the characters asthough they were all living; more, I think, because I do not come into actual contact with them. I can admire the nice people, and the mean ones may be as mean as they like without affecting me. Well, I was lying here reading when these women were announced, and as I was too comfortable to get up and dress, I thought I would have them up and excuse my toilet on the plea of indisposition. "Indisposed" is always a useful word; indisposed to be bothered by the visitors, you know,—the nicest of all the white lies. So they came up here and sat around my lounge and began to bring their all-winter's scheme to a climax. After awhile, when I saw that the time had arrived to disillusionize these women, I dismissed my headache and got up to have a frank talk with them. As I arose my diamond stud dropped from the collar of my waist which I had opened, and I picked it up and placed it on that little tea-table. Then we had our little scene. It was as good as a play. I kept my temper, as a hostess always must, but my guests were not so self-possessed, and, as I have said, Mrs. Merivale said a few things, and Mrs. Beaumont a great many more, that would not sound pretty coming out of a phonograph. Then they left, and I walked to my window and saw them jump into their carriage, Mrs. Beaumont slamming the door herself with a bang that must have weakened the hinges. That is all, except that I immediately remembered my stud and came here for it. It was gone.'
"'I suppose, of course, you have searched thisroom, under the possibility of its having dropped to the floor?' I inquired.
"'Yes, indeed,' she answered. 'I had my own maid up, and superintended the search myself. But I took the precaution to see that nothing should be removed from the room. I had the door closed, and then we took up the rug carefully and shook it. Nothing fell from it, and the stud was not on the floor or elsewhere. You can see yourself that it cannot be a difficult matter to search this little room thoroughly. It has been done without success, but if you like you may search again. I assure you that nothing has been taken from the room. If one of those two women has not taken that stud, you may count me an idiot.'
"'You have admitted that your maid was in this room, and that brings another possibility into the case,' I said.
"'You mean that Janet might have taken it? Not at all a possibility. In the first place she is devoted to me, as my people adopted her when she was but a child, and she has been personally in my service for more than ten years. No, Janet would not do such a thing, but even if she would, she could not have done so. I took precautions.'
"'What precautions?' I asked.
"'Why, she would need one hand to pick it up, and I not only kept both of her hands occupied, but I did not permit her to stoop to the floor.'
"'How could you keep her hands always occupied?' said I.
"'Why, most of the time she was handling the broom, and that requires two hands. It was only when she shook the rug and moved the sofa that her hands were otherwise occupied. I myself did the searching, and I am absolutely certain that Janet had not the least opportunity to pick up so much as a pin.'
"'And you think that one of your friends would do what you would not attribute to your maid?'
"'Assuredly. In the first place these women are not friends of mine; after to-day, I should rather say enemies. Moreover, I would trust Janet as I would few of my real friends. You see I have not tested all my friends, and I have tested Janet. She has had temptation enough and opportunity enough to rob me a thousand times over, were she so disposed. No, I tell you one of those two women has that diamond stud.'
"'Would you mind saying which one you are the more inclined to suspect?' I asked.
"'Why, that is a hard question. Sometimes I think one, and then again the other. Mrs. Beaumont showed so much venom that I can see more reason to suspect her if I decide from motive alone. It is really her scheme to get her cousin into the society. It is she who feels most thwarted, because of her lost influence. On the other hand, I cannot remember seeing her within reach of the tea-table, while Mrs. Merivale was near it all the time. So Mrs. Merivale had the opportunity, while the incentive through temper was with Mrs. Beaumont.'
"This was the little problem which I was asked to solve, and I think that you will comprehend my meaning when I say that it was intricate because of its very simplicity. Let me enumerate the facts so as to get a sort of bird's-eye view of the situation.
"First, we have two women present when the missing property is placed on a table accessible to at least one, and possibly to both. Second, a small room, with floor devoid of cracks, and covered by a rug easily moved and shaken. Third, only a few pieces of simple furniture in the room. Fourth, the visitors depart, and the property is missed. Fifth, a search without discovery, a third possible thief entering upon the scene.
"We have apparently but four solutions; either one of the three women took the stud, or else the alleged loser lies. I omit the possibility that the stud was merely mislaid or accidentally out of sight in the room; this, because I personally conducted a search, which was so systematic as to make it absolutely assured that the stud was not in the room when I looked for it.
"Of the four theories, then, I preferred first to consider that one which the mistress declared to be ridiculous. I insisted upon seeing and catechising the maid Janet, thereby deepening madame's doubts as to my ability. After talking with this girl for half an hour, I felt so convinced of her integrity that I mentally eliminated her from the case. Next in order we had the two visitors, one of whom, according to Mrs. Upton, had a motive while the otherhad the opportunity. The first postulate always is that the guilty person must have both opportunity and motive, unless indeed we are dealing with an insane person, when motive may be eliminated, though frequently the insane are actuated by quite intelligible motives. Thus we seemed obliged either to discover that Mrs. Beaumont had an opportunity to obtain possession of the stud, or else that Mrs. Merivale had a motive, except that the latter may have simply acted upon the opportunity without motive, in which case we would be dealing with the kleptomaniac. After due consideration I decided to call separately upon these two ladies, and went to Mrs. Merivale first.
"She courteously received me, and as soon as I met her I was pleasantly impressed by her personality. After five minutes' talk I was certain that if she took the stud, it was, after all, the act of a kleptomaniac, and that no petty motive of revenge would have tempted this high-born, beautiful gentlewoman to descend to theft. She asked me the object of my call, and looked at me so frankly that there was no chance for subterfuge. Consequently I openly declared the purpose of my visit.
"'Madame,' said I, 'I regret very much the embarrassing nature of my errand. But you visited Mrs. Upton this morning, I believe?'
"'I did, in company with my cousin, Mrs. Beaumont.'
"'Did you happen to notice that while you were there she placed a diamond stud on the tea-table?'
"'Yes; I remember the circumstance perfectly, because of the impression which it made upon me.'
"'Would you mind telling me what that impression was?'
"'Why, simply that it was very discourteous, or at least very untidy. When we were shown to her room, she was lying down, with the collar of her waist open. After a while she arose, the stud dropped to the floor, and she picked it up and placed it on the little tea-table. I thought that it would have shown a greater sense of propriety if she had replaced it and fastened her collar.'
"'Do you recall whether the stud was still on the table when you left?'
"'Why, no! How should I? I paid no further attention to it whatever.' Then as a new idea entered her mind, her eyes flashed, and the color rose in her cheeks as she said to me sharply:
"'You cannot mean that Mrs. Upton dares to intimate——'
"'She intimated nothing,' I hastened to interject. 'Immediately after your departure the stud was missed, and the most thorough search has failed to discover it. In these circumstances Mrs. Upton sought my aid, and I drew from her the details of her morning's experiences.'
"'I imagine you had little difficulty in drawing forth the details.' She said this with a sneer, which made me understand how this woman could say unpleasant things without forgetting her dignity.
"'I assure you,' I hastened to add, 'Mrs. Upton knows nothing of my visit here. I have on my own responsibility called with the idea that if I could obtain an account of your visit from yourself, there might be some slight difference in the two stories which would show me how to proceed.'
"'I know no more than I have told you, and as I am far from being interested in Mrs. Upton's lost baubles, I must beg you to excuse me from further discussion of the subject.'
"I was dismissed. It was courteously done, but done nevertheless. I could do nothing but take leave. Still I made one venture,—
"'I must ask your pardon for intruding, but, as I have said, I thought you might be able to supply a missing detail. For example, do you recall whether Mrs. Upton's maid entered the room while you were there?'
"'I am sorry, Mr. Barnes,' said she in courteous but firm tones, 'but I must decline to pursue this conversation further.'
"That was all. I had seen one of the suspected persons, and learned nothing. Still an interview of this character is bound to leave an impression, and in this case the impression was very strongly in favor of Mrs. Merivale. Without irrefutable proof I could not believe that this dignified, frank woman had stolen the stud. For the time at least I also dismissed all theories of kleptomania.
"Thus my attention was directed toward the woman who had a motive, but was reported to havelacked the opportunity. I called at once upon Mrs. Beaumont.
"This lady is of quite a different mould from her cousin. Older by at least ten years, she is still handsome, her beauty being, however, physical in character only. She lacks the self-poise and dignity which renders Mrs. Merivale's beauty so much more attractive. Moreover, she is voluble, where the other is reserved, a trait which I welcomed as affording me more opportunity to gain some possible clue to truth.
"She came into her reception-room where I awaited her, evidently brimful of curiosity. I had sent in my card, and it seems she had heard of me in connection with that somewhat famous wager of yours.
"'Mr. Barnes, the detective, I believe,' she said as she entered.
"'At your service, Madame,' I replied. 'May I have a few minutes' conversation with you upon a trifling, yet quite puzzling matter?'
"'Why, certainly,' said she, 'but don't keep me in suspense. I am burning with curiosity to know why a detective should call on me.'
"I thought that this woman might be caught by a sudden attack, and made the venture.
"'A diamond stud was stolen from Mrs. Upton this morning, while you were there!' I said, watching her closely. She did not flinch, but seemed honestly not to comprehend the suggestiveness of my words.
"'I do not understand you,' said she.
"'It is not a serious matter, Madame, but Mrs. Upton placed a diamond stud on her tea-table while you and Mrs. Merivale were with her, and missed it a moment after you had left. Therefore——'
"This was plain enough, and she grasped the truth at a flash. In an instant she gave me evidence of that temper against which I had been warned by Mrs. Upton.
"'You dare to insinuate that I took her miserable little stud? I wish my husband were at home; I would have you horsewhipped. No, I wouldn't either. It is not you who suspect me, it is that self-sufficient she-devil, Mrs. Upton. So she accuses me of being a thief, does she? Well, mark me well, Mr. Detective, I shall make her pay dearly for that insult. I have stood enough of that woman's impertinent superciliousness. This is going too far. If she has a shadow of proof against me, she can meet me in open court. Do you understand me? Go back and tell Mrs. Upton, with my compliments, that she must either prove that I stole her stud, or else I will sue her for libel. I'll let her see with whom she is fooling.'
"'Really, Mrs. Beaumont,' said I as soon as I found a chance to speak, 'you have rather gotten ahead of my intentions. I assure you that no accusation has been made against you.'
"'Indeed!' said she, scornfully uplifting her nose. 'And pray, then, why have you called? Certainly Mrs. Upton cannot imagine that I wouldbe interested in the petty thieving that goes on in her house.'
"'The point is just this, Madame,' said I. 'The stud was placed on a tea-table while you were present. Mrs. Merivale has told me that she remembers this distinctly. When you had left, the stud was missed, and the most thorough search has been made, not once but twice, without finding it. Indeed, there is no place in the room where it could have been lost. According to the story of Mrs. Upton, the affair, trifling as it is, is a really puzzling problem. But I ventured to hope that either Mrs. Merivale or yourself might remember some incident which might give me a clue; such, for example, as the entrance of one of the house servants.'
"'That is nothing but a smooth story invented by yourself,' said she, 'in order to pacify my righteous indignation. But you cannot deceive me. Mrs. Upton has told you that I stole her stud, and you have come here to endeavor to prove it.'
"'In justice to Mrs. Upton,' said I, 'I must state, on the contrary, that she very distinctly told me that you could have had no opportunity to take the stud, as you were not at any time near enough to the tea-table to touch it.'
"'If she told you that, it shows how little observation she has. I don't at all object to admitting that I had the thing in my hand.'
"'You had it in your hand!' I exclaimed, surprised.
"'Yes. It happened in this way, Mrs. Uptonreceived us with her collar unbuttoned, in the most slovenly fashion. After a while she got up from the lounge, where she was feigning a headache because too lazy to arrange her toilet before receiving guests. It was then that the stud fell to the floor. She picked it up and placed it on the table. When we were leaving she led the way out of the room, Mrs. Merivale following, and I leaving the room last. As I passed, I thoughtlessly picked up the stud and looked at it. I then put it back. I have a vague idea that it rolled off and fell to the floor, but I can't be sure.'
"'That is singular,' said I; 'for if it fell to the floor it should have been found.'
"'Undoubtedly. Very likely it has been found; I should say, by one of the servants. You will never induce me to believe that Mrs. Upton took the trouble to search for that stud without help. She is too lazy by far.'
"I thought it best to keep discreetly silent, preferring not to mention the fact that the maid had been in the room. It being evident to my mind that this woman would adhere to this story, true or false, I deemed it prudent to at least appear to believe her.
"'I am much indebted to you, Madame,' said I. 'You see that, after all, my visit has led me to the truth, for we know that the stud probably fell to the floor, and is therefore either still in the room, or else, as you suggest, one of the servants may have picked it up.'
"'All that is very well, Mr. Barnes,' said she; 'and you are very clever in shielding Mrs. Upton. But, as I said before, you do not deceive me. This matter is more serious than you imagine. That woman has worked systematically for two years to supplant me in our society, "The Daughters of the Revolution." Just now she fancies that she has triumphed over me; but in spite of that, she is jealous of my influence with the members, and would go to any extreme to injure me socially. She well knows that I did not take her stud, but she is quite willing to allow this suspicion to drift out to the world, knowing that it would be difficult to prove my innocence of a charge so vaguely circulated, and that there might be some who would turn aside from me because of this shadow. Now this I shall not permit. If she does not prove her charge, I shall certainly sue her for libel, and have the whole matter cleared up in the open tribunal of the law. You may tell her this from me. There shall be no half-way measures. One thing more before you go. I must call my maid.'
"She rang a bell, and a moment later her maid responded, and at her mistress's orders went upstairs and brought down a jewel-case of large size. This, Mrs. Beaumont opened, and taking out the contents strewed them on the table.
"'There, do you see these?' said she with pride in her voice. 'These are my jewels. Mrs. Upton perhaps is richer than I am, but I defy her to show such jewelry as I have. Some of these things aretwo hundred years old. Here is a necklace which one of my ancestors wore at the first inauguration of Washington. Here is another which my grandmother wore at the coronation of Queen Victoria. Here is an emerald ring, presented to my own mother by Napoleon. And you see what the others are. Nearly all have some history which adds to their intrinsic value. And with these in my possession, to think that that woman would accuse me of stealing a common little diamond stud! It makes my blood boil. But I have told you what course I shall pursue, and you may warn Mrs. Upton.'
"This ended the interview. I had gained some information at least, for I had learned that Mrs. Beaumont did have the opportunity to take the stud, but, on the other hand, the motive for such an act seemed less tenable. She certainly would not take it for its value, and in view of her own magnificent array of jewels, she would be less likely to imagine that she was giving Mrs. Upton any great annoyance by the petty theft. Then, too, her assertion that Mrs. Upton is systematically seeking to undermine her influence in their society connections, affords a possible reason for our last theory, that Mrs. Upton lied in declaring that the stud had been stolen. Thus the matter rests, as I have had no opportunity to have another interview with Mrs. Upton. If you call on her, I am sure that you will be well received because of the fact that she knows all about your outwitting me in that wager matter. Trusting that you may care to give this little affairsome of your time and attention, and with the belief that you will certainly unravel the tangle if you do, I am
"Very sincerely yours,
"Jack Barnes."
(Letter from Mr. Mitchel to Mr. Barnes)
"My dear Barnes:—
"I read your letter with considerable interest. As you very truly say, the case was intricate because of its simplicity. As you had followed up three theories with apparently the result that you were at least tentatively satisfied that neither held the key to the mystery, it seemed proper to take up the affair where you had left it, and to endeavor to learn whether or not Mrs. Upton had lied to you, and still had the stud in her own possession. For this and other reasons I decided to adopt your suggestion and call upon Mrs. Upton. I did so, and, as you surmised, was cordially received. She met me first in her parlor, and I at once stated to her the object of my visit.
"'Mrs. Upton,' said I, 'you are perhaps aware that I have a friendly regard for Mr. Barnes, the detective, ever since the affair of my little wager. I have received a letter from him this morning in which he states that an important criminal case compels him suddenly to leave the city; he has also given me a succinct statement of the few facts in relation to the loss of your stud, and has asked me to interest myself in the solution of this little mystery.'
"'And you mean to do it?' she exclaimed, impulsively. 'Why, how delightful! Of course you will find out all about it. To think that you, Mr. Mitchel, the man who outwitted Mr. Barnes, will take up my case! I am honored, I assure you.'
"I give you her exact words, though her flattery was somewhat embarrassing. In the course of the conversation she referred to you in terms which I repeat, though I do not at all share her poor estimate of your ability.
"'Of course,' said I, 'I am not a detective, yet I do take a trifling interest in these little problems, I find it mentally exhilarating to measure minds, as it were, with these wrong-doers. Thus far I have generally been successful, which, however, only proves my claim that those who stoop to crime are not really ever sound mentally, and consequently, either from too little or from too much care, some slight detail is overlooked, which, once comprehended by the investigator, leads unerringly to the criminal.'
"'Ah, how delightfully you talk!' said she. 'I am so glad you have taken this up, for, do you know, I rather thought Mr. Barnes a little dull, not to say stupid. Why, he actually suggested that my maid took the stud!'
"Here, I thought, was an opportune moment to follow the method which you employed with Mrs. Beaumont, and by a sudden, unexpected accusation, to endeavor to surprise the truth from her. I said:
"'Oh, Mr. Barnes has given up that idea now,and has almost adopted one even more startling. He thinks that perhaps you took the stud yourself."
"I had expected from your estimate of this woman's character, which you recall was not very flattering to her mental calibre, that if indeed it were true that she had concocted this little scheme to injure a society rival, thus taken unawares she would feign great indignation. On the contrary, she laughed so heartily, and spoke of your theory so lightly that I was practically convinced that again we were on the wrong scent. All she said by way of comment was:
"'Well, if that is the result of his investigation, he is a bigger fool than I took him to be. It is certain, therefore, that he will never discover the truth, and so I am doubly glad that he has gone out of town, and that you have consented to take his place.'
"'You must not so quickly condemn Mr. Barnes,' said I, feeling bound to defend you. 'He has really worked in this matter quite systematically, and this final theory has been reached by exclusion.'
"'I do not understand,' said she, puzzled.
"'Well, first he accepted your assurance that the maid Janet was not guilty because she had no opportunity. Then he called upon Mrs. Merivale, and from his interview with her judged that she too must be innocent, a view in which I must concur after reading his report of what passed. Then he called upon Mrs. Beaumont, and though she admitted, what you did not yourself observe, that she actually took the stud in her hand when leaving theroom, yet it seems equally certain that she replaced it, as she says she did. Thus, if the stud is really not in the room, there apparently could be no other explanation than that you are misleading us.'
"'Us? Does that mean that you too held the view that I merely pretend that the stud was lost?'
"'My dear Madame,' I replied: 'such an idea, of course, seems preposterous, but a detective cannot set aside any theory without thorough investigation. In an analysis of this character the personal equation must have a secondary place. In this affair it could not help us at all. Perhaps you will not understand my meaning. But do you not see that it is just as inconceivable that either of the other ladies should have stolen this stud of yours, as it is to believe that you merely pretend that it is lost? From the view-point of the impartial investigator there can be no choice between these propositions.'
"'I must say that you are not very flattering,' said she, troubled, as she realized that social position could not protect her from suspicion any more than it would the other women. 'Why, I have my enmities, of course, and I frankly admit that I do not love either Mrs. Merivale or Mrs. Beaumont, especially not the latter. Still, to concoct such a scandalous calumny against an innocent woman would be awful. I could not be so low as that.'
"'I believe you,' said I, and I did. 'But, on the other hand, would it not be equally low for these ladies, your social equals, to stoop to petty theft?'
"'I suppose you are right,' said she reluctantly; 'but how did the stud disappear? Don't you see that I had strong evidence against one of them? It was there when they were in the room, and gone when they had left. There must be some explanation of that. What can it be?'
"'Of course,' said I, 'there must be, and there is, an explanation. The most plausible seems to be the one suggested by Mrs. Beaumont, that it rolled from the table to the floor when she put it back. It seems incredible that two searches have failed to discover it, yet it is a small object, and may be lying now in some crevice which you all have over-looked.'
"'I think not,' said she, shaking her head dubiously. 'Suppose you come up and see for yourself. You won't find any crevices. Why, we have even run wires along the line where the seat and back of the lounge are joined. No, the stud is not in that room.'
"And now, friend Barnes, we come to the finale, for I may as well tell you at once that I have found the stud,—that, indeed, as soon as I looked into the room, I suspected that it was within those four walls, in a place where no one had thought of looking, though, to mystify you a little more, I may say that it may not have been in the room when you made your search.
"I inclose with this a sciagraph, that is to say, a picture taken with the X-ray. You will observe that the skeleton of a small animal is discernible surroundedby a faint outline which suggests the form of a dog. If you understand something of anatomy, look where the stomach of the dog should be, and you will notice a dark spot. This is the shadow of the missing stud, which, as Mrs. Beaumont suggested, must have dropped to the floor. There it evidently attracted the attention of Mrs. Upton's pet dog, Fidele, who took it into his mouth, with the result shown in the sciagraph. You will ask how I guessed this at once? In the first place I had perfect confidence in the thoroughness of your search, so when I saw the dog in the room, lying on a silk pillow, two pertinent facts were prominent at once. First, the dog may not have been in the room when you examined the place, and consequently you could not have counted him in as a possible place of search. Secondly, he might easily have been present when the two ladies called, and this was probable since his mistress was lying down and the dog's sleeping-pillow was near the head of the lounge. If you noted this, you may not have comprehended its use; perhaps you took it for one which had slipped from the lounge. At all events, I do not consider that you have been at all at fault. I had better luck than you, that is all.
"Very sincerely yours,
Robert Leroy Mitchel.
"P. S.—I do not myself believe in luck. I must also state that Mrs. Upton has sent letters of apology to the other ladies. The dog, Fidele, is to undergoan operation to-morrow. One of our most skilful surgeons has agreed to regain the stud and preserve the life of the pet. A laparotomy, I believe they, call it.—R. L. M."
THE END.