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THIEVBS' WIT 
 
 BULBBKT VOOTNBR 
 
THIEVES' WIT 
 
 An Everyday Detective Story 
 
 BT 
 
 HULBERT FOOTNER 
 
 AUTHOR or "IHB SBAUD VAIXEY," "JACK CSAMTY," ETC. 
 
 NEW ''iBr YORK 
 GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 
 
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 Copjfright, 1918, 
 By Otorgt H. Donn Company 
 
 Printed in the United States of America 
 
 •i 
 
 I 
 
THIEVES' WIT 
 
 MY first easel— with what an agreeable thrill 
 a professional man repeats the words to him- 
 self. With most men I believe it is as it was with 
 me, not the case that he intrigues for and expects to 
 gt but something q:ite different, that drops out of 
 Heaven unexpected and undeserved like most of 
 the good things of life. 
 
 Every now and then m an expansive moment I 
 teU the story of my case, or part of it, whereupon 
 something like the following invariably succeeds: 
 "Why don't you write it down ?" 
 "I never learned the trade of writing." 
 "But detective stories are so popular 1" 
 "Yes, because the detective is a romantic figure, 
 . hero, gifted with almost superhuman keenness 
 and mfaUibility. Nobody ever accused me of being 
 romantic. I am only an ordinary fellow who plugs 
 away like any other business man. Every day I am 
 up against it; I fall down; some crook turns a trick 
 on me. What kind of a story would that make?" 
 "But that's what people want nowadays, the real 
 tmng, stories of the streets day by day." 
 7 
 
8 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 Well, I have succumbed. Here goes for better 
 or for worse. 
 
 Before beginning I should explain that though it 
 was my first case I was no longer in the first bloom 
 of youth. I was along in the thirties before I got 
 my start and had lost a deal of hair from my 
 cranium. This enabled me to pass for ten years 
 older if I wished to, and still with the assistance of 
 my friend Oscar Nilson the wig-maker I could make 
 a presentable figure of youth and innocence. 
 
 During my earlier days I had been a clerk in a 
 railway freight offict, a poor slave with only my 
 dreams to keep me going. My father had no sym- 
 pathy with my aspirations to be a detective. He 
 was a dose-mouthed and a close-fisted man. But 
 when he died, after having been kept on scanty ra- 
 tions for years, the old lady and I found ourselves 
 quite comfortably off. 
 
 I promptly shook the dust of the freight oiEce 
 from my feet and set about carrying some of the 
 dreams into effect. I rented a littl- office on For- 
 tieth street (twenty dollars a month), furnished it 
 discreetly, and had my name painted in neat char- 
 acters on the frosted g^ass of the door: "B. En- 
 derby" — no more. Lord 1 how proud I was of the 
 outfit 
 
 I bought a fire-proof document file for cases, and 
 had some note-paper and cards printed in the same 
 neat style: 
 
 B. ENDERBY 
 Confidential Investigator 
 
Thieves' Wit 9 
 
 You see I wished to avoid the sensational. I was 
 not looking for any common divorce evidence busi- 
 ness. Since I had enough to exist on, I was deter- 
 mined to wait for important, high-priced, kid-glove 
 cases. 
 
 And I waited — more than a year in fact. But it 
 was a delightful time I Fellows were always drop- 
 ping m to smoke and chin. My little office became 
 like our club. You see I had missed all this when 
 I was a boy. Any youngster who has ever been 
 speeded up in a big clerical office will understand 
 how good It was. Meanwhile I studied crime in 
 all Its aspects. 
 
 I worked, too, at another ambition which I shared 
 with a few million of my fellow-creatures, viz. : to 
 write a successful play. I started a dozen and fin- 
 ished one. I thought it was a wonder of brilliancy 
 then. I have learned better. In pursuance of this 
 aim I had to attend the theatre a good deal, and 
 from the top gallery I learned something about 
 actors and actresses if not how to write a great play. 
 
 I mention the play-writing for it was that which 
 brought me my first case. I used to haunt the of- 
 fice of a certain prominent play-broker who was al- 
 ways promising to read my play and never did. One 
 afternoon in the up-stairs corridor of the building 
 where she had her offices I came face to face with 
 the famous Irma Hamerton. 
 
 Nowadays Irma is merely a tradition of loveliness 
 and grace. Theatregoers of this date have nothing 
 like her to rejoice their eyes. Then, to us humble 
 
10 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 fellows she stood for the rarest essence of life, the 
 ideal, the unattainable — call it what you like. Tall, 
 slender and dark, with a voice that played on your 
 heartstrings, she was one of the fortunate ones of 
 earth. She had always been a star, always an idol 
 of the public. Not only did I and my gang never 
 miss a show in which she appeared, but we would sit 
 up half the night afterwards talking about her. 
 None of us naturally had ever dreamed of seeing 
 her face to face. 
 
 We met at a corner of the corridor, and almost 
 collided. I forgot my manners entirely. My eyes 
 almost popped out of my head. I wished to fix that 
 moment in my life forever. Imagine my confusion 
 when I saw that she was crying, that glorious crea- 
 ture I — actually the tears were running down her soft 
 cheeks like any conmior woman's. Do you wonder 
 that a kind of convulsion took place inside me? 
 
 Seeing me, she quickly turned her head, but it was 
 too late, I had already seen them stealing like dia- 
 monds down her cheeks. I stared at her like a 
 clown, and like a clown I blurted out without think- 
 ing: 
 
 "Oh, what's the matter?" 
 
 She didn't answer me, of course. She merely hur- 
 ried faster down the hall, and turned the next cor- 
 ner. 
 
 When I realised what I had done I felt like butting 
 my silly head through one of the glass partitions 
 that lined the corridor. I called myself all the names 
 in my vocabulary. I clean forgot my own errand in 
 
Thieves' Wit n 
 
 the building, and went back to my oiEce muttering 
 to myself in the streets like a lunatic. 
 
 I was glad no one dropped in. In my mind I went 
 over the scene of the meeting a hundred times I sup- 
 pose, and made up what I ought to have said and 
 done, more ridiculous I expect than what had hap- 
 pened. What bothered me was that she would think 
 I was just a common fresh guy. I couldn't rest un- 
 derthat. So I started to write her a note. I wrote 
 half a dozen and tore them up. The one I sent 
 ran like this:— I blush to think of it now— 
 
 Miss Irma Hamerton, 
 Dear Madam: 
 
 The undcMigned met you in the corridor of the 
 Manhattan Theatre Buifding this afternoon about 
 three. You seemed to be in distress, and I was so 
 surprised I forgot myself and addressed you. I hctt 
 that you wiU accept my apology for the seeminj 
 rudeness. I have seen you m all your plays, many 
 of them several times over, and I have received so 
 
 [!l"M"l""-^™'" y"*"" *•=*'"& and I respect you 
 so highly that It is very painful to me to think tLt 
 I may have added to your distress by my rudeness. 
 
 JenSSSr '^^ °"'^ '^'""'''""" "^ -^ - 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 B. Enderby. 
 
 The instant after I had posted this letter I would 
 have given half I possessed to get it back again It 
 suddenly occurred to me that it would only make 
 matters worse. Either it would seem like an im- 
 
12 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 pertinent attempt to pry into her private affair*, or 
 a bold move to follow up my original rudencM. A 
 real gentleman would not have (aid anything about 
 the teari, I told myself. My cheeks got hot, but it 
 was too late to recall the letter. I was thoroughly 
 miserable. I did not tell any of my friends what 
 had happ'ied. 
 
 That night I went alone to see her play. Lost 
 in her part of course and hidden under her makeup 
 she betrayed nothing. There was always a sugges- 
 tion of sadness about hur, even in comedy. When 
 that lovely deep voice trembled, a corresponding 
 shiver went up and aown your spine. 
 
 I thought about her all the way home. My de- 
 tective instinct was aroused. I tried to figure out 
 what could be her trouble. There are only four 
 kinds of really desperate trouble: ill-health, death, 
 loss of money, and unrequited love. To look at her 
 in the daylight without make-up was enou^ to dis- 
 pose of the first. It was said that she had no close 
 relatives, therefore she couldn't have lost any re- 
 cently. As for money, surely with her earning ca- 
 pacity she had no need to trouble about that. 
 Finally, how could it be an affair of the heart? Was 
 there a man alive who would not have cast himself 
 at her feet if she had turned a warm glance In his 
 direction? Rich, successful and adored as she was, 
 I had to give it up. 
 
 About five o'clock the next afternoon the surprise 
 of my life was administered to me. I received a 
 large, square, buff-coloured envelope with a brown 
 
Thieves' V',i 13 
 
 border, and written upon with brown ink in immenie, 
 
 bled with a delicioui foreboding of what was iniide. 
 ineanwh.N better sense was telling me not to be a 
 tool. It contained a card on which was written : 
 
 £«S« Jr*? ^ai"'""' ^" >>' 9l»d to see Mr. B. 
 TheHjA ,?"'j *' 'convenient for him to call a, 
 the Hotel Rotterdam at noon on Thursday." 
 
 un^Zu """""t' IT"'^ "' ''• '^''"^- Then I went 
 office. Finally I rushed out to the most fashionable 
 outfitters to get a new suit before closing time. 
 Thursday was the next day. 
 
I HAD never been inside tliat exduiive of ex- 
 duwve hotelf, the Rotterdtm. I confeia that 
 my kneei were a little infirm at I went through the 
 •wing doon, and passed before the nonchalant, in- 
 diBerent eyes of the handsome footmen in blue liv- 
 eries. "Ahh, they're only overgrown bell-hops I" I 
 told myself encouragingly, and fixed the Marruis be- 
 hmd the desk with a haughty stare. 
 
 Walking in a dream I presently found myself be- 
 ing shown into a corner room high up in the build- 
 mg. I was left there alone, and I had a chance to 
 look around. I had never seen anything like it, 
 except on the stage. It was decorated in what I 
 think they caU the Empire style, with walls of white 
 paneUed wood, picked out with gold, and pretty 
 curiously shaped furniture. Everywhere there were 
 great bunches of pink roses, picked that morning, 
 you could see, with petals still moist. It smelled 
 like Heaven might. 
 
 That was all I had time to take m when the door 
 opened, and she entered. She was wearing a pink 
 lacy sort of thing that went with the roses. She 
 didn t mmd me, of course. She was merely polite 
 and casual. But just the same I could see that she 
 was ueeply troubled about something. Trouble 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 15 
 
 Make* « beautiful 
 
 make* a woman'* eye* big. 
 woman twice a* beautiful. 
 
 She went to the point a* *traight a* a buUet 
 ^^I .uppo.e you are wondering why I ,e„t for 
 
 I confe**ed that I wai. 
 
 "It wa* the heading on your letter paper. What 
 te^ctive"?"'""" ^^ '""'''^"'''»' inve*tigator'-a de- 
 
 te clitrit!;!" ""'" ''^" *■"" -" "*""^ '- 
 
 write to* met"'' *** """*" *"''''• ""^^y ^'J y°» 
 
 ,nl^^°°^ T •'y '"T"*'- "There wa* no rea- 
 .o,v-«cept what the letter *aid," I *tammered. 
 
 Several other que.tion* followed, by which I ,aw 
 •he wa* trymg to get a line on mc. I offered Iier 
 reference*. She accepted them inatteiUively. 
 
 ♦h!nl f "*..'"!'"" *° ""'•^'' »''« other people 
 thmk of you," *he .aid. "I have to make Gp my 
 
 I Z"" %«.'!' °1" '""'* ''■^' ''"» injtrument,," 
 ~L "•'^ "" questions." 
 
 This *cemed to please her. After some further 
 
 It seen, ,d to me from your letter that you had a good 
 
 ScUI T l""^ that perhaps more than detertive 
 
 J J h^^ '" » W«2C of publicity. I am sur- 
 
 lZtfJL'T"\ ^''.^ P-hing'^thick-sLned 
 sort of people force themselves do,e to me, and the 
 
i6 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 kind that I like avoid me, I fear. I am not sure of 
 whom I can trust. I am very sure that if I put my 
 business in the hands of the regular people it would 
 soon become a matter of common knowledge." 
 
 Her simplicity and sadness affected me deeply. 
 I could do nothing but protest my honesty and my 
 devotion. 
 
 "I am satisfied," she said at last. "Are you very 
 busy at present?" 
 
 "Tolerably," I said with a busy air. It would 
 never have done to let her think otherwise. 
 
 "I would like you to take my case," she said with 
 an enchanting note of appeal, "but it would have to 
 be on the condition that you attended to it your- 
 self, solely. I would have to ask you to agree not 
 to delegate any part of it to even the most trusted 
 of your employees." 
 
 This was easy, since I didn't have any. 
 
 "You must, please, further agree not to take any 
 steps without consulting me in advance, and you 
 must not mind — perhaps I might call the whole thing 
 off at any moment. But of course I would pay you." 
 
 I quickly agreed to the conditions. 
 
 "I have been robbed of a pearl necklace," she 
 said with an air of infinite sadness. 
 
 I did not need to be told that there was more in 
 this than the ordinary actress'-stolen-jewels case. 
 Irma Hamerton didn't need that kind of advertis- 
 ing. She was morbidly anxious that there should 
 be no advertising in this. 
 
 "It was a single strand of sixty-seven black pearls 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 17 
 
 ranging in size from a currant down to a pea. They 
 were perfectly matched, and each stone had a curi- 
 ous, bluish cast, which is, I believe, quite rare. As 
 jewels go nowadays, it was not an exceptionally val- 
 uable necklace, worth about twenty-six thousand dol- 
 lars. It represented my entire savings. I have a 
 passion for pearls. These were exceptionally per- 
 fect and beautiful. They were the result of years 
 of search and selection. Jewellers call them blue 
 pearls. I will show you what they looked like." 
 
 She went into the adjoining room for a moment, 
 retummg with a string of dusky, gleaming pearls 
 hanging from her hand. Tkey were lovely things. 
 My unaccustomed eyes could not distinguish the blue 
 m them until she pointed it out. It was like the last 
 gleam of light in the evening sky. 
 
 "The lost necklace was exactly like this," she said. 
 "Had you two?" I asked in surprise. 
 She smiled a little. "These are artificial." 
 I suppose I looked like the fool I felt. 
 "A very natural mistake," she said. "Some time 
 ago my jeweler advised me not to wear the real 
 pearls on the stage, so I had this made by Roberts. 
 The resemblance was so perfect that I could scarcely 
 tell the difference myself. It was only by wearing 
 them that I could be sure." 
 "By wearing them?" I repeated. 
 "The warmth of my body caused the real pearls 
 to gleam with a deeper lustre." 
 "Lucky pearls i" I thought. 
 "They almost seemed alive," she went on with a 
 
i8 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "The artificial pearls 
 And they have to be re- 
 
 kind of passionate regret 
 show no change, of course, 
 newed in a short time." 
 
 I asked for the circumstances of the robbery. 
 "It was at the theatre," she said. "It occurred 
 on the night of February 14th." 
 
 "Six weeks ago I" I exclaimed in dismay. "The 
 trail is cold 1" 
 
 "I know," she said deprecatingly. "I do not ex- 
 pect a miracle." , 
 I asked her to go on. 
 
 "I had an impulse to wear the genuine pearls that 
 night. I got them out of the safe deposit vault in 
 the afternoon. When I saw the real and the arti- 
 ficial together I was afraid of making a mistake, so 
 I made a little scratch on the clasp of the real strand. 
 I wear them in the first act. I have to leave them 
 off in the second act, when I appear in a nurse's uni- 
 form, also in the third when I am supposed to be 
 ill. In the fourth act I wear them again. 
 
 "On the night in question I wore the real pearls 
 in the first act. I am sure of that, because they were 
 glowing wonderfully when I took them off — as if 
 there was a tiny fire in each stone. I put them in the 
 pocket of the nurse's uniform and carried them on 
 the stage with me during the second act. In the 
 third act I was obliged to leave them in my dressmg- 
 room, because in this act I am shown in bed. But I 
 thought they would be safe in the pocket of the dress 
 I took off." 
 
 "The instant I returned to my dressinq;-room, I 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 19 
 
 got them out and put them on, suspecting nothing 
 wrong. It was not until after the final curtain that 
 upon taking them off, I was struck by their dullness. 
 I looked for my little mark on the clasp. It was 
 not there. I found I had two strings of artificial 
 pearls." 
 
 I as' jd her the obvious questions. "Did you 
 have any special reason for wearing the genume 
 pearls that night?" 
 
 "None, except that I loved them. I loved to 
 handle them. They were so alive I I was afraid 
 they might lose their life if I never wore them." 
 
 Somehow, I was not fully satisfied with this an- 
 swer. But for the present I let it go. 
 
 "Was any one with you when you got them out 
 of the safety deposit box?" I asked. 
 
 "I was quite alone." 
 
 "Did any one know you were wearing them that 
 night?" 
 
 "No one." 
 
 ''Were there any strangers on the stage?" 
 "No. My manager at my request is very particu- 
 lar as to that. I have been so annoyed by well- 
 meamng people. No one is admitted. In this pro- 
 duction the working force behind is smaU. I can 
 give you the name of every person who was on the 
 stage that night." 
 
 "Has any one connected with the company left 
 smce then?" ' 
 
 "No." 
 
20 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "Who has the entree to your dressing-room while 
 you are on the stage?" 
 
 "Only my maid. But she is not expected to re- 
 main there every moment. Indeed, on the night in 
 question I remember seeing her watching the scene 
 from the first entrance." 
 
 "During which time your room was unlocked?" 
 
 "Very likely. But Ac door to it was immediately 
 behind her." 
 
 "Have you any reason to suspect her?" 
 
 "None whatever, She's been with me four years. 
 Still, I do not except her from your investigation." 
 
 "Does she know of your loss ?" 
 
 "No one in the world knows of it but you and I." 
 
 "And the thief," I added. 
 
 She winced. I was unable to ascribe a reason 
 for it. 
 
 "Do you care to tell me why you waited six weeks 
 before deciding to look for the thief?" I asked as 
 gently as possible. 
 
 "My jeweller— who is also an old friend, has se- 
 cured three more blue pearls," she answered quickly. 
 "He has asked me for the necklace, so that he can 
 add them to it. I cannot put him off much longer 
 without confessing that I have lost it." 
 
 "But shouldn't we tell him that it has been 
 stolen?" I asked surprised. 
 
 She energetically shook her head. 
 
 "But jewellers have an organisation for the recov- 
 ery of stolen jewels," I persisted. "The only way 
 we can prevent the thief from realising on the pearls 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 21 
 
 is by having the los, published throughout the trade." 
 I can t consent to that." she said with painfully 
 
 told!M^rn:afed°"'^*^"'"^-''^''»™-^-the 
 
 J^^ "'" '^^°^ ^" ''"'^- "A woman's reason " 
 she murmured, avoiding my glance. ' 
 
 rou know, of course, how you increase m^ A:t 
 ficd.cs by withholding part of'yo"urcSdere."''- 
 "DonV 1\" " '•'"'' *"'""'^ '" ''«'• J°vely throat. 
 
 I bowed. 
 wisSy"'"*''^"" "" '" '" 'P'*» °f •*." She said 
 
1 NEED not take the space to put down all the 
 operations of my early reasoning on the case. 
 I had plenty to think about. But every avenue my 
 thoughts followed was blocked sooner or later by 
 a blank wall. Never in my whole experience have 
 I been asked to take up such a blind trail — and this 
 was my first case, remember. Six weeks lost be- 
 yond recall I It was discouraging. 
 
 I narrowed myself down to two main theories: 
 
 («) The pearls had been stolen by experienced 
 specialists after long and careful plotting or, 
 
 (b) They had been picked up on impulse by a 
 man or woman dazzled by their beauty. In this case 
 the thief would most likely hoard them and ^oat 
 over them in secret. 
 
 Not the least puzzling factor in the case was my 
 client herself. It was dear that she had been pas- 
 sionately attached to her pearls; she spoke of them 
 always in almost a poetic strain. Yet there was a 
 personal note of anguish in her grief which even the 
 loss of her treasure was not sufficient to explain. 
 She was a quiet woman. And strangest of »U, she 
 seemed to be more bent on finding out who had taken 
 them, than on getting them back again. She had 
 waited six weeks before acting at all, and now she 
 hedged me around with so many conditions that the 
 prospect of success was nil. 
 
 33 
 
Thieves' Wit 23 
 
 I Kad an intuition which warned me that if I 
 wiahed to remain friend* with her I \ad better be 
 careful whom I accused of thf crime. It was a puz- 
 zler whichever way you looked at it. However, an 
 mvestigator must not allow himself to dwell on the 
 hopelessness of his whole tangle, but must set to 
 work on a thread at a time. Whichever way it 
 turned out, I was to have the delight for a long time 
 to come of seeing her frequently. 
 
 I was there again the next afternoon. This day 
 I re:aember the room was fragrant with the scent 
 of great bowls of violets. The lovely dark-haired 
 mistress of the place looked queenly in a dress of 
 purple and silver. As always when there were a 
 number of people around she was composed in man- 
 ner, one might say a little haughty. 
 
 There was quite a crowd. It included a middle- 
 aged lady, a Mrs. Bleecker, a little over-dressed for 
 her age and envious-looking. She, it transpired, 
 was Miss Hamerton's companion or chaperon. The 
 only other woman was a sister star, a handsome, 
 blonde woman older than Miss Hamerton, very af- 
 fectionate and catty. I have forgotten her name. 
 The men were of various types. Among them I re- 
 member the editor of a prominent newspaper, a 
 weU-known playwright and Mr. Roland Quarles. 
 The latter was Miss Hamerton's leading man. He 
 looked quite as handsome and young off the stage 
 as on, but seemed morose. 
 
 Miss Hamerton introduced me all around in her 
 casual way, and left me to sink or swim by my own 
 
M 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 eSorti. None of the people put themselvet out to 
 be agreeable to me. I could tee that each was won- 
 dering jealously where I came in. However, lince 
 I had a right to be there, I didn't let it trouble me. 
 This is life I I told myself, and kept my eyes and 
 ears open. I was not long in discovering that these 
 "brilliant" people chattered about as foolishly as 
 the humblest I knew. Only my beautiful young lady 
 was always dignified and wistful. She let others 
 do the talking. 
 
 I stubbornly outstayed them all. The men very 
 reluctantly left me in possession of the field. As for 
 the lady companion I saw in her eye that she was 
 determined to learn what I had come for. How- 
 ever, Miss Hamerton coolly disposed of her by »«':- 
 ing her to entertain a newcomer in the next room 
 while she talked business with me. 
 
 These people wearied her. She relaxed when 
 they had gone. She said to me : "I had you shown 
 right up because I want my friends to become accus- 
 tomed to seeing you. I hope you did not mind." 
 
 I replied that I was delighted. 
 
 "I suppose I ought to account for you in some 
 way," she went on, "or their curiosity will run riot. 
 What would you suggest?" 
 
 "Oh, let them suppose that I am a playwright 
 whose work you are interested in." 
 
 She accepted the idea. How delightful it was for 
 me to share secrets with her! 
 
 My particular purpose in making this call was to 
 urge her again to take the jeweller into her confi- 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 as 
 
 dence. I pointed out to her that we could hope to 
 do nothing unless we blocked the thief from dis- 
 posing of the pearls. Very reluctantly she finally 
 consented, stipulating, however, that the jeweller 
 must be told that she had just discovered her loss. 
 I explained to her that we must look back to make 
 sure that the jewels had not already been offered 
 for sale, but on this point she stood firm. She gave 
 me a note of introduction to Mr. Alfred Mount. 
 
 I delivered it the following morning. At this time 
 Mount's was the very last word in fashion. It was 
 a smallish store but most richly fitted up, on one of 
 the best corners of the avenue, up near the cathe- 
 dral. Every one of the salesmen had the air of a 
 younger son of the aristocracy. They dealt only in 
 precious stones, none of your common stuff like gold 
 or silver. 
 
 I was shown into a private ofice at the back, a 
 gem of a private office, exquisite and simple. And 
 in Mr. Alfred Mount I saw that I had a notable 
 man. One guessed that he would have been a big 
 man in any line. So far I knew him only as one of 
 the city's leading jewellers. By degrees I learned 
 that his interests were widespread. 
 
 He was a man of about fifty who looked younger, 
 owing to his flashing dark eyes, and his lips, full 
 and crimson as a youth's. In a general way he had 
 a foreign look, though you couldn't exactly place 
 him as a Frenchman, an Italian or a Spaniard. It 
 was only, I suppose, that he wore his black hair and 
 curly beard a little more luxuriantly than a good 
 
a6 Thieves' Wit 
 
 ^'^"""" ^" «n«nner wai of the whole world. 
 My involuntary firrt impretuon was dead against 
 the man. He was too much in character with the 
 •trange little orchid that decorated hit buttonhole. 
 Later I decided that this was only my Anglo^axon 
 narrowness. True, he kept a guard on his bright 
 eyes, and his red lips were firmly closed— but do 
 we not all have to train our features? He was a 
 jeweller who earned his bread by kow-towing to the 
 nch. My own fate was not an open book, yet I con- 
 sidered myself a fairly honest creature. 
 
 He read my letter of 'introduction which stated 
 that I would explain my business to him. Upon his 
 asking what that was I told him quietly that Miss 
 Hamerton had been robbed of her pearls. 
 
 He started in his chair, and pierced me through 
 and through with those brilliant black eyes. 
 
 "Give me the facts 1" he snapped. 
 
 I did so. 
 
 "But you," he said impatiently, "I don't know 
 you." 
 
 I offered him my card, and explained that Miss 
 Hamerton had retained my services. 
 
 He was sile-^t for a few moments, chewing his 
 moustache. It was impossible to guess what was go- 
 ing on behind the mask of his features. Suddenly 
 he started to cross-question me like a criminal law- 
 yer. How long had I been in business? Was I 
 accustomed to handling big cases ? Had I any finan- 
 cial standing? What references could I give? And 
 So on, and so on. 
 
Thieves' Wit 27 
 
 My patience finally gave way under it. "I bee 
 your pardon." I .aid .tiffly. "I recognj^ the righf 
 
 Tte^Tclfer" *" ""™" "' '" ^" ""--• 
 og.«d hand.omely. Like all big men he wa. often 
 
 n'ngly. You are qu.te right. I am terribly up.et 
 by your new. I forgot my.elf. I confe... too. I 
 •m hurt that Mi« Hamerton .hould have Jcted in 
 old Wend'""" "* ''"* ^n'ulting me. I am a very 
 
 I wa. glad .he had done so. for something told 
 me I never .hould have got the job from him. I 
 did not tell h.m how .he had come to engage me, 
 though he gave me .everal opening, to do w. 
 „er ""l "V ""':°T "»"•" he i-id in hi. bert man- 
 
 you with all my power. 
 
 I accepted the olive branch. "I .poke too ha.tily 
 myself... I „^„,d. ..J ,^^u ^^ P^^ ^^ ^^y .t.ly 
 
 anythmg you want to know about my.elf " 
 
 a while. StiU that mstinctive dislike of the man 
 
 ''Have die pr ■ ce been notified?" he enquired. 
 MI.. Hamerton impo.e8 absolute secrecy." 
 Quite so, • he said quickly. "That is wist." 
 
 I had my doubts of it, but I didn't air them 
 
28 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "Have you any clues?" he aaked. 
 "None a« yet." 
 
 "What do you want me to do?" 
 "To publish the loss through the channels oi the 
 trade, with the request that if any attempt is made 
 to dispose of the pearls we should instantly be noti- 
 fied. The owner's name, and the circumstances of 
 the robbery must be kept secret." 
 
 "Very good," be said, maJcing a memo on a pad. 
 "I will attend to it at once, and discreetly. Is there 
 anything else I can do?" 
 
 "I hoped that with your knowledge of jewels and 
 the jewel market you could give me something to 
 work on," I said. 
 
 "All I know is at your command," said he. He 
 talked at length about jewels and jewel thieves, but 
 it was all in generalities. There was nothing that I 
 could get my teeth into. He gave it as his opinion 
 that the pearls were already on the., way abroad, 
 perhaps to India. 
 
 "Then you think that the robbery was engineered 
 by experts?" 
 
 Kw spread out his expressive hands. "How can 
 
 We parted with mutual expressions of good will. 
 I said. "I expect I shall have to come often to you 
 for help." 
 
 "I expect you to," he said earnestly. "I want 
 you to. Myself and my establishment are at your 
 service. Let no question of expense hamper you." 
 
Thieves' Wit 39 
 
 I found liter that he really meant thii. I wa 
 however, very reluctant to draw on him. 
 When I .aw Mi.. Hamerton the next day I a.ked 
 
 wIaT"!'"" ''^'^° ""«"'•"« Mr. Alfred Mount 
 with the object of finding out if he were reaUy .uch 
 ■n old friend a. he made out 
 
 "T-'L^r^ ''''"''• l!"""" '*''"•" •'»« "'d 'imply- 
 JrlA H^^L'" *° ''"y **•'"«• f'"" W" « merely 
 mcdental. He wa. a friend of my father', and 
 he 1. a very good friend to me. He ha. proved it 
 more than once." provea it 
 
 I wa. tempted to a,k: "Then why were you ,o 
 
 itTT^V^'- ^'V"'" y°"' confidence?' B^t 
 
 TtherwUe "" ^^ ""^ ""*"* '''"*• '"^ ""'" »"* 
 
 I Jm '• '^?"' "'''^ '^ '"' ''»'* ""tifi^d the police," 
 I said, merely to.ee how .he would take it 
 
 I regretted it. Her expre..ion of pain and ter- 
 ror went to my heart. She wa. no longer" ee 
 
 ,Oh you did not. you have not?" .he stammered. 
 didn^S""' '"•''>"'^"^' "I knew you 
 
 She turned away to recover herself. Whatwa.I 
 o make of it? One would almost have .a d tha 
 she wa. a party to the theft of her own jewel.. 
 
 And yet only a few mmute. later ,he bur.t out in 
 a passionate plea to me to discover the thief 
 
 It torture, me I" she cried, "the .u.penw the 
 uncertainty! Thi. atmo.phere of doubt' and *.! 
 
30 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 picion is tuffocatingl I wish I never had had any 
 pearls! I wish I were a farmer's daughter or a 
 mill girl I Please, please settle it one way or the 
 other. I shall never have a quiet sleep until I 
 knowP' 
 
 "Know what?" I asked quietly. 
 
 But she made believe not to have heard me. 
 
 
T SPENT the next two or three days in quiet work 
 X here and there. The most considerable ad- 
 
 H"? ]. "^^^^ '''* '" P'*^'''"« *" acquaintance with 
 McArdle, the property man of Miss Hamerton's 
 company. Watching the stage door I discovered 
 that the working-force behind the scenes frequented 
 the back room of a saloon on Sixth avenue for lunch 
 after the show. The rest was easy. By the third 
 night McArdle and I were on quite a confidential 
 footmg. 
 
 From him I heard any amount of gossip. Mc- 
 Ardle was of the garrulous, emotional type and very 
 free with his opinions. The star was the only one 
 he spared. From his talk I got the principal mem- 
 bers of the company fixed in my mind. Beside Mr 
 Quarles there was George Casanova, the heavy man, 
 a well-known actor but, according to McArdle, a 
 loud-mouthed, empty braggart, and Richard Rich- 
 ards, the character heavy, a silly old fool, he said, 
 devoured by vanity. Among the women the next 
 m importance after the star was Miss Beulah Mad- 
 dox, the heavy lady, who in the opinion of my ami- 
 able informant giggled and ogled like a sewing-ma- 
 chine girl, and she forty if she was a day. 
 
 Discreet questioning satisfied me that McArdle 
 was quite unaware that a robbery had been commit- 
 
 3« 
 
32 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 ted in the theatre. If he didn't know it, certainly 
 it was not known. 
 
 Out of bushels of gossip I sifted now and then a 
 grain of valuable information. He informed me 
 that Roland Quarles was in love with the star. Foi» 
 some reason that I could not fathom he was espe- 
 cially bitter against the young leading man. He 
 would rail against him by the hour, but there seemed 
 to be no solid basis for his dislike. 
 
 "Does she favour him?" I asked. 
 
 "Nahl" he said. "She's got too much sense. 
 He's a four-flusher, a counter-jumper, a hall-room 
 boy! Lord I the airs he gives himself you'd think 
 he had a million a year! He's a tail-ender with 
 her, and he knows it. He's sore." 
 
 "Who seems to be ahead of him?" I asked with 
 strong curiosity. 
 
 "There's a dozen regulars," said McArdle. "Two 
 Pittsburgh millionaires, a newspaper editor, a play- 
 wright and so on. But if you ask me, the jeweller 
 is ahead in the running." 
 
 "The jeweller?" I said, pricking up my cars. 
 
 "Spanish looking gent with whiskers," said Mc- 
 Ardle. "Keeps a swell joint on the avenue. 
 Mount, his name is. He's a wise guy, does the old 
 family friend act, see? He's a liberal feller. I 
 hope he gets her." 
 
 This bit of information gave me food for thought. 
 I thought it explained my intuitive dislike of Mount. 
 The thought of that old fellow presuming to court 
 the exquisite Irma made me hot under the collar. 
 
Thieves' Wit 33 
 
 I went to the store of Roberts, the manufacturer 
 of artificial pearls. This place was as well-known 
 in Its way as Mount's, since Roberts had sued the 
 Duke of Downshire and the public had learned that 
 the pearls His Grace had presented to Miss Van 
 Alstinc on the occasion of their marriage were— 
 phony. It also was a very fancy establishment but 
 like Its wares, on a much less expensive scale. 
 
 I fell in with a sociable and talkative young sales- 
 man, who at my request showed me a whole tray 
 fuU of pearl necklaces. Among them I spotted an- 
 other replica of Miss Hamerton's beautiful string 
 
 "What's this ?" I asked carelessly. 
 
 "Blue pearls," he rattled off. "Latest smart 
 novelty. A hit. Mrs. Minturn Vesey had one sent 
 up only yesterday. She wore it to the opera last 
 night." 
 
 "There isn't such a thing really as a blue pearl. 
 IS there?" I asked idly. 
 
 rJ'^T"'^^' ^^^^^ "^ '^"P'" °f ««""'"« stones 
 like aU our stock. Some time ago a customer sent 
 in the real necklace to have it copied, like they all 
 do. This was such a novelty Mr. Roberts had a 
 pattern made and put them on sale. It's a winner I" 
 "I wouldn't want a thing everybody had bought." 
 I said. 
 
 "I don't mean everybody," he said. "But just a 
 few of the very smartest. It's too expensive for 
 everybody. Seven hundred and fifty. The original 
 IS priceless." 
 
 "How many have you sold?" 
 
34 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "About ten." 
 
 "Who else bought them?" 
 
 He reeled oS a string of fashicnable names. 
 
 "That's oi.!y six." 
 
 "The others were sold over the counter." 
 
 The affable youngster was a little aggrieved when 
 I left without buying. 
 
 Mr. Mount was both surprised and deeply cha- 
 grined when I told him that exact replicas of Miss 
 Hanierton's pearls were to be had at Roberts' by 
 anybody with the price. He didn't see how he could 
 stop it either. It appeared there was a standing 
 feud between Roberts and the fashionable jewellers, 
 in which Roberts had somewhat the advantage be- 
 cause the regular trade was obliged to employ him. 
 No one else could make such artificial pearls. 
 
 With Mr. Mount's assistance I had the sales of 
 the replicas quietly traced. Nothing resulted from 
 this. All but two of the sales were to persons above 
 suspicion. These two had been sold over the 
 counter, one to a man, one to a woman, and as the 
 transactions were over two months old, I could not 
 get a working description of the buyers. 
 
 On another occasion I went into Dunsany's, the 
 largest and best-Jcnown jewelry store in America, if 
 not in the world, and asked to see some one who 
 could give me some information about pearls. I 
 was steered up to a large, pale gentleman wearing 
 glasses, very elegantly dressed, of course. I put on 
 my most youthful and engaging manner. I heard 
 him addressed as Mr. Freer. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 35 
 
 "Look here," I said, "I expect you'll want to have 
 me thrown out for bothering you, but I'm in a hole." 
 
 My smile disarmed him. "What can I do for 
 you?" he asked impressively, 
 
 "I'm a fiction writer," I said. "I'm writing a 
 story about blue pearls, and somebody told me there 
 was no such thing. Was he right?" 
 
 "Sometimes the black pearl has a bluish light in 
 it," said Mr. Freer. "But it would take an expert 
 to distinguish it. Such pearls are called blue pearls 
 in the trade." 
 
 "I suppose you haven't got one you could show 
 me?" I said. 
 
 He shook his head. "They rarely rome into the 
 market. There is only one place in New York where 
 they may be found." 
 
 "And that Is?" 
 
 "Mount's. Mr. Alfred Mount has a hobby for 
 collecting them. Naturally when a blue pearl ap- 
 pears it is generally offered first to him. You'd bet- 
 ter go to see him. He knows more about blue pearls 
 than any man in the world." 
 
 "One more question?" I said cajolingly, "in my 
 story I have to imagine the existence of a necklace 
 of sixty-seven blue pearls ranging in size from a cur- 
 rant down to a pea, all perfectly matched, perfect in 
 form and lustre. If there was such a thing what 
 would it be worth?" 
 
 When I described the necklace I received a mild 
 shock, for the pale eyes of the man who was watch- 
 ing me suddenly contracted like a frightened ani- 
 
36 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 mal's. The muscles of his large pale face never 
 moved, but I saw the eyes bolt. He smiled stiffly. 
 
 "I couldn't say," he said. "Its value would be 
 fabulous." 
 
 "But give me some idea," I said, "just for the 
 salce of the story." 
 
 He moistened his lips. "Oh, say half a million," 
 he said. "It would not be too much." 
 
 I swallowed my astonishment, and thanked him, 
 and made my way out. 
 
 Here was more food for cogitation. Why should 
 a few idle questions throw the pearl expert at Dun- 
 sany's into such visible agitation? I had to give it 
 up Perhaps it was a twinge of indigestion or a 
 troublesome corn. Anyhow I lost sight of it in the 
 greater discovery. Half a million for the necklace, 
 and Miss Hamerton had told me that buying it pearl 
 by pearl it had cost her little more than twenty-five 
 thousand I 
 
 Meanwhile there was an idea going through my 
 head that I had not quite nerve enough to open to 
 my client. It must be remembered that though I 
 was making strides, I was still green at my business. 
 I was not nearly so sure of myself as my manner 
 might have led you to suppose. To my great joy 
 Miss Hamerton herself broached the subject. 
 
 One afternoon she said, apropos of nothing that 
 had gone before : "I'm sorry now that I introduced 
 you to my friends. Though I do not see how I 
 could have seen you without their knowing it." 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 37 
 
 "Why sorry?" I asked. 
 
 She went on with charming diffidence— how was 
 one to resist her when she pleaded with an humble 
 air: "I have thought— if it would not tie you down 
 too closely— that you might take a minor role in my 
 company." 
 
 My heart leaped— but of course I was not going 
 to betray my eagerness if I could help it. 
 
 "As to your friends having seen me," I said, "that 
 doesn't make any difference. Disguise is part of 
 my business." 
 
 "Then will you?" she eagerly asked. 
 I made believe to consider it doubtfully. "It 
 would tie me down I" I said. 
 
 "Oh, I hope you can arrange it I" she said. 
 "Could it be managed without exciting comment 
 m the company?" 
 
 "Easily. I have thought it all out. I have an 
 assistant stage manager who plays a small part. By 
 increasing his duties behind, I can in a perfectly nat- 
 ural way make it necessary to engage somebody to 
 play his bit. I shall not appear in the matter." 
 "I have had no experience," I objected. 
 "I win coach you." 
 Could I resist that? 
 
 "It would be better to put in an operative." 
 "Oh, no I No one but you I" 
 "Well, I'll manage it somehow," I said. 
 She sighed with relief, and started that moment 
 io coach me. 
 
 "You are a thug, a desperate character. You 
 
 ap- 
 
38 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 pear ijp only one scene, a cellar dimly lighted, so 
 you will not be conspicuous from in front. You 
 must practise speaking in a throaty, husky growl." 
 In order to prolong the delightful lessons I made 
 out to be a little stupider than I was. 
 
 I was engaged the next day but one through a 
 well-known theatrical agent where Miss Hamerton 
 had instructed me to apply for a job. Just how she 
 contrived it I can't say, but I know I came into the 
 company without ^anybody suspecting that it was 
 upon the star's recommendation. In the theatre, of 
 course, she ignored me. 
 
 Two nights later I made my debut. Mine was 
 such a very small part no one in the company paid 
 any attention to me, but for me it was a big occa- 
 sion, I can tell you. In the way of business I have 
 faced death on several occasions with a quieter ' rart 
 than I had upon first marching out into view of 
 that thousand-headed creature across the footlights. 
 With the usual egotism of the amateur I was sure 
 they were all waiting to guy me. But they didn't. 
 I spoke my half dozen lines without disaster. I 
 felt as if the real me was sitting up in the flies watch- 
 ing his body act down below. Indeed, I could write 
 several chapters upon my sensations that night, but 
 as somebody else has said, that is another story. 
 
 What is more important is the discovery of my 
 first piece of evidence. 
 
 At the end of the performance I was crossing the 
 quiet stage on my way out of the theatre, when I 
 saw a group of stage-hands and swne of the minor 
 
Thieves' Wit 39 
 
 members of the company by the stage-door with their 
 heads together over a piece of paper. I joined the 
 group, takmg care not to bring myself forward. An- 
 other happened along, and he asked for me: 
 'What's the matter?" 
 
 Richards answered: "McArdle here found a 
 piece of paper on the stage with funny writing on 
 «t. It's a mystery like." 
 "Let's have a squint at it," said the newcomrr. 
 I looked over his shoulder. It was a single sheet 
 of cheap note-paper of the style they call "dimity." 
 It had evidently been torn from a pad. It seemed 
 to be the last of several sheets of a letter, and it 
 was written m a cryptogram which made my mouth 
 water. I may say that I have a passion for this 
 kmd of a puzzle. I give it as I first saw it : 
 
 &FQZZDRR CV REW RIPN PFRHO at ri-rxf 
 gGffT EP FOBQ IVTO^MXKlfS -^XD^ 
 
 S CEDBBWYB SWOCNA VMD YbV rr auexiv 
 NCA&MW&M&L. HZF EDM HmzUM ?Kn 
 BSCOAIIQW ZXK FJOP WOD ITWX DwJy? 
 
 wnS'7"Jc°*«JT LSZAND EBcS^nSfP 
 VEDFSF. BSQ ZWVXJ YXM H PL GC DCR FPHV 
 EA&BO ULS RLZQ WB NELI KZNFm 1^?^* 7 
 CSQVEVDEV-FBACPI S'wKsSiTBEHHZ^- 
 
 J. 
 
 Ihad no proof on beholding this meaningless as- 
 sortment of letters that it had anything to do with 
 my case, but I h:.d a hunch. The question was how 
 to get possession of it without showing my hai 1 
 
40 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 I kept silent for a while, and let the ditcustlon rage 
 at to the proper way to translate it. 
 
 My excitable friend McArdle (who did not know 
 me, of course, in my present character), naturally 
 as the finder of the paper took a leading part in the 
 discussion. The principals of the company had not 
 yet emerged from their dressing-rooms. My oppor- 
 tunity came when McArdle stated in his positive way 
 that it was a code, and that it was not possible to 
 translate it without having the code-book. 
 
 "A code is generally regular words," I suggested 
 mildly, as became the m'west and humblest member 
 of the company. "Nobody would ever think up 
 these crazy combinations of letters. I should say 
 it was a cryptogram." 
 
 McArdle wouldn't acknowledge that he didn't 
 know what a cryptogram was, but somebody else 
 asked. 
 
 "Substituting one letter for another according to 
 a numerical key," I said. "Easy enough to trans- 
 late it if you can hit on the key." 
 
 One thing led to another and soon came the in- 
 evitable challenge. 
 
 "Bet you a dollar you can't read it I" cried Mc- 
 Ardle. 
 
 I hung back until the whole crowd joined him in 
 taunting me. 
 
 "Put up or shut up I" cried McArdle. 
 
 The upshot was that we each deposited a dollar 
 with old Tom the doorkeeper, and I took the paper 
 home. 
 
Thieves' Wit 41 
 
 It wa» th« moit ingeniou* and difficult cryptogram 
 I ever tackled. The sun wa. up before I got it It 
 was a richer prize than I had hoped for. Here it ii : 
 
 "divosed of and your share of the money ii here 
 whenever you want to get it. / • = 
 
 I strongly advise you not to leave the company, 
 rou say she has not discovered her loss. AU right 
 But these phony pearls soon lose their lustre. She 
 
 TJStHi^ °" Ti.'* *'"' 'r? ^'«^^ r» '""d in your 
 resignation. Then good-night. I'll be back l^on- 
 
 •For the benefit of tho,e of curioui mindi I wilt giv/i/k™ 
 
 It m.y be the on. before it. the one .fter it. or . purely .rt,l- 
 
 ^T Itf that [" Hh."". "" ••"• '•"" "-^t. ^. 
 
 . .. . ?^ ^ •on.eta.ng more compln. ObMrre that in 
 
 form- "MwiMi^T"'' ""'<"'."•'•«'» '» *" ««r«.rdin.nr 
 lorm. ftMWtM&U Here w.t a awbrealcerl To make a Ion. 
 ..ory .hoH I diKov.red after hundred, of experiment that th! 
 
 W^ .Ah "/" "? "• *""'y-««. ««'" b««in over from te" 
 
 1. .K J "" "»""'""«!»"• by including the charwser & 
 
 .. the tw.„jr...„n,h letter of the alphabet Th, fragt^ntaiy 
 «n«nc. at th. top of the page held m, up for a Ion, T. „«« 
 va„r„7!K '•" "" ""i '"*" "•• '""•y-*™ number, in ri 
 :rd °.l Z S^.. *-"•' -""^" "» ^ P- •* *. wHt.r 
 
IN my experience I have found in adopting a dis- 
 guise that it is no less important to change the 
 character than the personal appearance. As the new 
 member of Miss Hamerton's company I called my- 
 self William Faxon. I appeared as a shabby, gen- 
 teel little fellow with lanky hair and glasses. The 
 glasses were removed only when I went on the stage 
 in the dark scene. On top of my bald spot I wore 
 a kind of transformation that my friend Oscar Nil- 
 son furnished. It combed into my own hair, was 
 sprinkled with grey and made me look like a man on 
 the shady side of forty somewhat in need of a bar- 
 ber. The character I assumed was that of a gentle, 
 friendly little party who agreed with everybody. 
 The people of the company mostly despised me and 
 made me a receptacle for their egotistical outpour- 
 ings. They little guessed how they bored me. 
 
 When I joined the company it had been agreed 
 between Miss Hamerton and I that thereafter she 
 had better come to the office to hear my reports. It 
 was her custom to call nearly every afternoon about 
 five. She insisted on hearing every detail of my 
 activities, and listened to the story from day to day 
 with the same anxious interest. 
 
 Since she had first broken out in my presence she 
 seemed not to mind to show her feelings to me. 
 ■4* 
 
Thieves' Wit 43 
 
 Indeed I gue..ed that it w.. . kind of relief to the 
 high^ning woman who wa. alw.y, i„ the limelight, 
 to let herself go a little. Her implied confidence 
 wa. venr grat.fy,„g to me. She never gave me the 
 
 t^I f u"''."*?' "* •" """y ''°"^'< «>"t by thi. 
 
 time 1 was begmnmg to gueu the explanation, ai I 
 suppose you are, too. 
 
 to J^5?n i^"' '^."•P^"«'^ '^' cryptogram I went 
 to bed m high satisfaction. I knew then that I was 
 on the nght track. The man (or woman) I was 
 after was m M.s. Hamerton's company. I ,lept 
 unt.1 afternoon. Mi„ Hamerton had expected nS 
 
 She said she couldn't come, but the coast was clear, 
 and could I come to her ? ' 
 
 I found her pale and distrait. "Not bad news ?" 
 she asked apprehensively. "I'm „ot equal to iti" 
 
 you?" itSFecfeV """' """ '• ''' '"' '^ *<> 
 
 She ignored the complaint. 
 
 When I explained the circumstances of the finding 
 of the cryptogram, and showed her my translation I 
 received another surprise. A sigh escaped he ; an 
 her^aT T?"'''^ """' •"'' 8'»d""» came inlo 
 j^ped up.""'' """ ""'™''* *° ''" ='^"'"- She 
 "You're a welcome messenger I" she cried. "Oh 
 
 kZJr^^^ "°''' ^ ''°"'' ^°"^ ""y ""o"' I 
 
 J 'HT" ^■^°:'^'^ "'"^ She laughed at 
 me. Don't mmd me I" she begged. "You're 
 
44 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 on the right track I You'll soon know everything!" 
 She moved around the room humming to herself 
 like a happy girl. She buried her face in a bowl of 
 roses and caressed them tenderly. "If I knew who 
 had sent them," I thought, "perhaps it would give 
 me a clue." But what had the cryptogram to do 
 with it? 
 
 Suddenly to my surprise she said: "Stay and have 
 dinner with me here, Mr. Enderby. I was going 
 to a party, but I will send regrets. I don't want to 
 be with any of them I I'm so happy I I would 
 either have to hide it, or explain it. I want to be 
 myself for a while." 
 
 I did not require much persuasion. It was like 
 dming in Fairyland! By tacit consent we avoided 
 any reference to the case. I shall never forget tliat 
 hour as long as I live. We were alone, for the un- 
 pleasant Mrs. Bleecker thinking that Miss Hamer- 
 lon was dining out, had gone oS to some friends of 
 hers. 
 
 Afterwards I went hotf: to disguise myself, and 
 then proceeded to the theatre. I had already photo- 
 graphed the cryptogram, and put the negative in my 
 safe. McArdle was lying in wait for me, and I 
 allowed him to drag it out of me, that I had not been 
 able to translate it. He collected the stakes in high 
 ^ec. 
 
 The paper was passed from hand to hand until it 
 literally fell to pieces. No one could make any- 
 thing of it of course. I encouraged the talk and 
 helped circulate the paper, and watched from behind 
 
Thieves' Wit 45 
 
 my innocent pieces of window-glass for some one to 
 betray himself. But I saw nothing. The convic- 
 tion was forced on me that I hid a mighty clever one 
 to deal with. 
 
 During my long waits I loitered from dressinjr- 
 room to dressing-room, and let them talk. As op- 
 portunit.es presented themselves I quietly searched 
 tor the first page of that letter, though I supposed it 
 had been destroyed. 
 
 Eighteen actors and actresses and a working force 
 of SIX comprised the field of my explorations. 
 However, the fact that punctuation played a part in 
 the cryptogram not to speak of the choice of words 
 convinced me that both the writer and reader of it 
 
 nated the ilhterates. This reduced me at one stroke 
 to hve men and four women. Of these two of the 
 men were obviously too silly and vain to have carried 
 out such a nervy piece of work, while one of the 
 women was a dear old lady who had been on the 
 stage for half a century, and another was a bit of 
 dandelion fluff These exclusions left me with five, 
 
 mT R^^rxl"• ^'°'-«' ^^'"'"°^''' Kenton 
 Milbourne, Beulah Maddox and Mary Gray 
 
 Roland Quarles I have already mentioned. Both 
 he and Casanova were actors of established reputa- 
 tions who had been in receipt of handsome salaries 
 for some seasons. I scarcely considered them. 
 Milbourne was my dark horse. He was a hatchet- 
 faced mdividual, homely, uninteresting, unhealthy- 
 Jooking. His fancy name sat on him strangely. He 
 
46 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 looked like a John Doe or a Joe WL' ..ns. Miss 
 Maddox wis a large woman of the gushing-bysterical 
 type ; Miss Gray a quiet well-bred girl who kept to 
 herself. 
 
 While I concentrated on those named, I did not, 
 however, overlook the doings of the others. With 
 all the men I was soon on excellent terms but the 
 women baffled me. Women naturally despise a man 
 of the kind I made out to be. You can't win a 
 woman's confidence without making love to her, and 
 that was out of my line. 
 
 On Thursday night of the week after I joined, 
 Miss Beauchkmp, who played a maid's part, spoiled 
 a scene of Miss Hamerton's by missing her cue. It 
 was not the first oSense, and she was fired on the 
 spot. This girl was the bit of fluff I have mentioned. 
 The occasion suggested an opportunity to me. 
 There was no time to be lost so I went to Miss 
 Hamerton at once. In my humble, shabby char- 
 acter I meekly bespoke the part for a "friend." 
 Miss Hamerton was startled. She said she would 
 consider it. 
 
 I had no sooner got home that night than she 
 called me up to ask what I had meant. I did not 
 want to argue with her over the telephone, so I 
 asked her to see me next morning. She said she 
 would come to my office as soon as she had break- 
 fasted. 
 
 Using all my powers of persuasion it took me 
 more than an hour to win her consent to my putting 
 a woman operative in the vacant part. Not only 
 
Thieves' Wit 47 
 
 did I have to have a woman in the conipany, I told 
 fter, but 1 needed an assistant outside. Not bv 
 working twenty-four hours a day could I track down 
 all the clues that opened up. She would never have 
 
 comfort she had found in the cryptogram 
 
 The rehearsal was caUed for three and I had 
 barely time to get hold of my girl. 
 
 This brings me to Sadie Farrell, a very important 
 character m my story. 
 
 I had been keeping company with her for a short 
 wh.le At least I considered that I did, though she 
 demed .t^ She scorned me. That was her way. 
 Sadie had always lived at home. Her father and 
 mother were dead now, and she lived with her sister. 
 Like all home girls she was crazy to see a bit of life 
 Her heart was set on being a high^Iass detective! 
 That was the only hold I had over her. I had 
 promised her that the first time I had occasion to 
 engage a woman operative, I would take her. 
 
 Moreover, Sadie was full of curiosity concerning 
 Miss Hamerton, whose praises I was always singing 
 She was never jealous though. Sadie had a wise 
 itt e head, and she knew the difference between the 
 feehng I had for that wonderful woman, and for her 
 darling self. 
 
 Sadie was at home when I got there. "What, 
 you/ she said, making out to be bored to death "I 
 thought I was going to have a peaceful afternoon." 
 
 1 couldn t resist teasing her a little. "Cheer up " 
 
48 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 I* 
 
 I said. "I'm going right away again. I thought 
 maybe you'd like to come out with me." 
 
 "On a week day!" she said scornfully. "Run 
 along with you, man, I've got something better 
 to do." 
 
 "I bet I can make you come," I said. 
 She tossed her head. "You know very well you 
 can't make me do anything." 
 
 "I brt you a dollar I can make you come." 
 She smelled a mouse. "What are you getting 
 at?" she demanded. 
 
 "I wanted to take you to the theatre." 
 "It's too late, for a matinee." 
 "Hew about a rehearsal?" 
 Hi eyes sparkled. "A rehearsal! Wouldn't 
 that be wonderful I Oh, you're only fooling me." 
 
 "Not at all," I said, "Miss Hamerton herself in- 
 vited you." 
 
 "Miss Hamerton! Shall I see her?" 
 "Sure. And what's more, you are the person to 
 be rehearsed." 
 
 She simply stved at me. 
 
 "She offers you a small pat; in her company," I 
 drawled. 
 
 "Af<r/" said the amazed Sadie. "Why— how- 
 how did it happen ?" 
 
 "Well you see, I have come to the point where I 
 need an operative in the company, and I got her to 
 take you." 
 "When is it?" she gasped. 
 
Thieves' Wit 49 
 
 minl'sTo/'""''" ' "'^- ^^—''^ twenty 
 
 Ject" ™'nl'' i° "' ""'^ ''''' "y ""» « little 
 squeeze. Oh, Ben, you darling fool I" she cried 
 
 mu?t"do' ^? ''°''" *°7 ^ ~"'^'»"=d ^" in what she 
 must do. She mustn't let it be suspected that she 
 
 ^LTVI:'^. 5'^°"- S"^ "-'t^U the stage 
 manager she had been sent by Mrs. Mendoza. the 
 agent. She must ask forty dollars a week" and come 
 
 waT" K ?•• ^^' •""" "»''' °"t that the par 
 was much mfer.or to those she had been plavSng. 
 
 whirl M- "ir"""' '^' "" *° -•"» to my office 
 where M.ss Hamerton would meet us. and give h'; 
 a lesson m making up. 
 
 bir?,^!"/'".?'^ T.*^^'*^ '''^ '^'^ «ttle head like a 
 bird and sa.d nothmg. Only at the prospect of re- 
 ceiving mstruction from the wonderful Irma Hamer- 
 ton herself, did her eyes gleam again. I didn't have 
 une then eo tell her what she ha5 to know abou^I 
 
 theLe ih. / ^" ""* "* *' '*''^'°" ""««t the 
 theatre, while I went on to my office. It was safer 
 
 o^^^ourse for me not to appear at the rehearsal ^ 
 oaaie s sponsor. 
 
 ably. If I had had, no matter what my personal 
 
 h- "a^e'StV'"'' "°^ '.'''' -Plo/ed'her^ 
 tnis case But she was as wise as she was pretty 
 Under those scornful airs she was as true as'S 
 
50 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 faculty of keeping a close 
 
 and she had the rare 
 tongue in her head. 
 
 Sadie had a sort of Frenchy look, long, nirrow 
 eyes and pointed chin. This just happened to suit 
 the part of the maid in the play. If I had looked a 
 month I could not have found a better girl, not to 
 speak of the pleasure I anticipated in working side 
 by side with my own girl. Moreover, I was hoping 
 by my conduct of the case to force Sadie to admit 
 that I was not quite such a bonehead as she liked to 
 make out. 
 
 Everything went off as planned. Sadie I heard, 
 made a good impression at rehearsal, and at a nod 
 from Miss Hamerton, the stage manager engaged 
 her. Miss Hamerton told me afterwards that Sadie 
 went through the rehearsal like an old stager. 
 They arrived at my office separately, and the lesson 
 in making up was given. Miss Hamerton laid her- 
 self out to be kind to Sadie. I think she scented a 
 romance. Anyhow, inside five minutes Sadie was 
 hers body and soul. Like me, she would have 
 stopped at nothing to serve her. 
 
 After that I told Sadie all the facts in the case. 
 In her woman's way of reasoning she arrived at the 
 same conclusion that I had reached after my style. 
 
 "It's the work of a clever gang," she said. "They 
 have put a member, perhaps more than one in the 
 company." 
 
 "But what a lot of trouble to take," I objected, 
 "since the necklace was not known to be of any great 
 value." 
 
Thieves' >Vit 51 
 
 "Somebody knew." 
 
 "If they knew about blue pearl, they must alto 
 have known that Mount wa, the only buyer." 
 
 Maybe they were .hipped to India," ,he .aid. 
 I .u.pect that Ea.t Indian, have forgotten more 
 about pearl, than Mr. Mount ever knew " 
 
 sJiA ""I^a"' *''"'/'*' »PP"«d °n the .tage, 
 Sadie justified my confidence in her power, Not 
 
 with,tanding the excitement of making her debut, .he 
 
 managed to keep her wit, about her Women «e 
 
 rtage ,he had to wait at one .ide for few minute, 
 T T„ J J / "conversation on the other ,ide of it 
 
 e?olTto ' '' • '"1."°* •>"" '" "•» --p'^y W 
 
 enough to recognise the voice,. r / is 
 
 A man ,aid. "Ye., .ir, forty thousand dollars." 
 
 "I«r> :"?f«P'y- "How do you know?" 
 I «w ,t entered m hi, bank book. I wa, in his 
 
 weroriTorn ' "^ '^ °" ^''^ *»"»• wh^ h 
 
 went out I looked m it out of curiosity. He de 
 pos^d forty thousand doUar, last wee?' 
 
 Where do you suppose he got it?" 
 
 Search me." 
 
 "Some fellows have all the luck, don't they?" 
 1 Hen the voices passed out of hearing. 
 
1HAVE not mentioned Mr. Alfred Mount lately 
 though I saw him often on matters connected 
 with the case. He was an interesting character. It 
 was only by degrees .hat I realised what an extraor- 
 dinary man I had to deal with. After our first 
 meeting his manner towards me completely changed. 
 He appeared to be sorry for his brusqueness on that 
 occasion. Now he was all frankness and friendli- 
 ness. Nothing crude, you understand, just the air 
 of one man of the world towards another. I could 
 not help but feel flattered by it. 
 
 While we worked together so amicably the mutual 
 antagonism remained. I knew he still resented Miss 
 Hamerton's having employed me without consulting 
 him, and I believ<!:d that he was working indepen- 
 dently. For my part, you may be sure, I told him 
 nothing but what I had' to. I found no little plea- 
 sure in blocking his subtle questioning by my air of 
 clumsy innocence. I told him nothing about the 
 cryptogram. 
 
 I never called at his office again. Sometimes he 
 dropped into mine, his bright eyes wandering all 
 around, but more often I called on him at his apart- 
 ment over the store. For he occupied the second 
 floor of the beautiful little building which housed 
 his business. There was however nothing of the old- 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 S3 
 
 fashioned ihop-keeper about his place. I never saw 
 such splendour before or since. But it took you a 
 while to realise that it was splendour, for there was 
 nothing showy or garish. Everything he possessed 
 was the choicest of its kind in the world. Even with 
 my limited knowledge, when I stopped to figure up 
 the value of what I saw, I was staggered. I saw 
 enough at different times to furnish several million- 
 aires. 
 
 Mount had a strange love for his treasures in 
 which there was nothing of the usual self-glorifica- 
 tion of millionaires. He had a modest, ahnost a 
 tender, way of referring to his things, of handling 
 them. I learned quite a lot about tapestries, rugs, 
 Chmese porcelains, enamels, ivories and gold work- 
 manship from his talk. He did not care for paint- 
 ings. 
 
 "Too insistent," he said. "Paintings wiU not 
 merge." 
 
 The man was full of queer sayings, which he 
 would drawl out with an eye to the effect he was 
 creating on you. 
 
 He never allowed daylight to penetrate to his 
 prmcipal room, a great hall two stories hi^, lined 
 with priceless tapestries. 
 
 ^^ "Daylight is rude and unmanageable," he said. 
 Artificial light I can order to suit my mood." 
 
 Another odd thing was his antipathy to red. 
 That colour almost never appeared in his treasures. 
 In the tapestries greens predominated; the rugs were 
 mostly old blues and yellows. The great room 
 
54 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 never looked quite the tame. Sometimet it was 
 completely metamorphoied over night. I under- 
 stood from something he let f aU that the other floors 
 of the building were stored with his treasures. He 
 had them brought down and arranged according to 
 his fancy. The only servrmt ever visible was a silent 
 Hindoo, who sometimes appeared in gorgeous 
 Eastern costume, encrusted with jewels. It occurred 
 to me that that was how his master ought to dress. 
 The sober clothes of a business man, however ele- 
 gant, were out of place on Mount. Long afterwards 
 I learned that it was his custom when tilone to array 
 himself like an Eastern potentate, but I never saw 
 him dressed that 'way. 
 
 One day, to see what he would say, I asked him 
 point blank what was the value of Miss Hamerton's 
 lost pearls. 
 
 He consulted a note-book. "She paid me at dif- 
 ferent times exactly twenty-five thousand, seven hun- 
 dred for them." 
 
 "I know," I said quietly. "But what was their 
 value?" 
 
 He bored me through and through with his jetty 
 eyes before answering. FinaUy he smiled— he had 
 a charming smile when he chose, and spread out his 
 hands in token of surrender. His hands were too 
 white and beautiful for ^ man's. 
 
 "I see you know the truth," he said. "Well— I 
 am in your hands. I hope you will keep the secret. 
 Only a great deal of unhappiness could result from 
 its becoming known." 
 
Thieves' Wit 55 
 
 "I •htU not tell," I aaid "P„» l» . 
 
 they worth." "* ^'^^ ""'•» «« 
 
 "^««I'y couldn't My," he laid franklv "Ti.. 
 ;. nothin, like then, in tte worSlt^ to J^H 
 
 S-hJUcEcoX"'^^^ 
 ;;Wouldn;t they be di/Hcult to dispose of ?" 
 
 tion." '• "^ ''°P" '" *^« P««« "tua. 
 
 tinU?" ^°" """"^ *''• *''^ ""'^ ^h" h' wa, get. 
 
 "I doubt it. To distinguish the blue cast is a fad 
 of^my own. They ordinarily go with the W,ck 
 
 "&IIT ''""*"'■."''* '° ''•' '"''J«« °f his own accord 
 
 ?o!b?oVMi.?Air;^^^^ '"' ^°" --^^^ '•»- • 
 
 "No danger of that," I ,aid quickly. 
 
 wondermg .f I p„,umed to rival him there He 
 immediately went on 8i..oothIy 
 
 "She, of course, ha-, no suspic... i of the true v.I,.^ 
 of the pearls. Nor docs she guess that Si;*;" 
 in my possession for years I Ut h.l u 1 
 one or two at a time.' Do y u lat m:i^h': 
 spread out his expressive hands again ^' 
 
 world" h.";!. ""T ''/r*'^"' P«''» i° «« the 
 
 S;dge\Td~; ,r„^ '^etllt °' '" "^ 
 
 notpearls. Only^h^n thlj lie'on t^riiTos^m 
 
56 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 
 of a woman are pearli really pearh. I wiihed to 
 have the pleasure of aeeing Irma— MIm Hamerton 
 wearing them. I could not give them to her. So 
 I deviled this innocent deception. Wouldn't you 
 have done the tame?" 
 
 Maybe I would. Anyhow I didn't feel called 
 upon to argue the matter with him, to I kept my 
 mouth shut. 
 
 Hia long eyea narrowed. "If yr,u had leen her 
 wear the real pearls you would understand better," 
 he said dreamily. "They glowed as if with pleasure 
 in their situation. Her skin is so tender that the 
 veins give it a delicate bluish cast exactly matched by 
 my exquisite pearls 1" 
 
 To nie there was something— what would you say, 
 something delicately indecent in the way Mount 
 spoke of Miss Hamerton. It made me indignant 
 deep down. But I said nothing. 
 
 "I am a fool about precious stones," he went on 
 with that disarming smile. "No shop-keeper has 
 any right to indulge in a personal passion for his 
 wares. Pearls come first with me, then diamonds. 
 Would you like to see my diamonds?" 
 
 Without waiting for any answer he disappeared 
 mto the next room. I heard the ring of a burglar- 
 proof lock. Presently he returned bearing a little 
 black velvet cushion on which lay a necklet of Ream- 
 ing fire. 
 
 "I am no miser," he said smiling. "Quantity 
 does not appeal to me, nor mere bigness. Only 
 quality. This is my whole collection, seventy-two 
 
Thieves' Wit 57 
 
 itonei, the reiult of thirty ye«ri* .earth for perfec- 
 tion. 
 
 I gazed at the fiery ipoti ipeechleiily. Before 
 taking thii caM I had never thought much of pre- 
 cioui itonei. They had teemed like pretty thing, 
 to me, and umIcsi. But upon looking at these I 
 could understand Miu H.merton'i reference to her 
 
 •^ J •,".'."""» *•*'"«•• ■'''«« di'mondi were alive 
 -^eyiluhly aliye. They twinkled up at Mount like 
 complaiiant little slave* outvying each other to flat- 
 ter their master. The sheer beauty of them caught 
 "t the breast. Their fire bit into a man's soul. See- 
 ing It, I could understand the ancient lusts to rob and 
 murder for bits of stone like these. 
 •'Aren't they lovely?" Mount murmured 
 Yes, like a snake," I blurted out. 
 
 I We dim'^' "^''" '"""* '""" •*""*" ^ ""• 
 
 "Put them away!" I said. 
 
 He continued to laugh. He caressed the dia- 
 monds with his long, white fingers. "Wouldn't you 
 like to see Miss Hamerton wear them?" he asked 
 softly. 
 
 "No by GodI" I cried. "She's a good woman." 
 
 Me laughed more than ever. It was a kind of 
 Unental laugh, soft, unwholesome. "I'm afraid 
 you suffer from the Puriun confusion of the ideas of 
 beauty and evil," he said. 
 
 "Maybe I do," I said shortly. 
 
 "Some other time I will show you my emeralds 
 and sapphires," he said. 
 
58 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 I hated the things, yet I was eager to see them. 
 1 hat shows the effect they had on you. I was struck 
 by his omission of rubies. 
 
 "How about rubies?" I asked. 
 
 He shivered. "I do not care for rubies. Thev 
 are an ugly color." 
 
 I welcomed the chill, raw air of the street after 
 that scented chamber. After the elegant coUector 
 ot jewels my crude and commonplace fellow-citizens 
 •eenjied aU that was honest and sturdy. I was proud 
 of them. Yet I enjoyed going to Mount's rooms, 
 too. One could count on being thrilled one way or 
 another. ' 
 
A eoZ, / " ' '^""""^ "" ''°™« of the 
 ifenT", ^ "^ 1"" "y «lcuIation.-though I .till 
 kept an eye on them through Sadie Of7l»^J^ t 
 had most to do with two. Roland Quarl^^dCon 
 Mdhourne, the first because I liked hir.„dT 
 second because I didn't ' ^ ** 
 
 Q»rl», n». „, «,.„!, 21t.t ^rZ o1 
 such a plan, or to h de it afterward* T AiTuZ 
 
 with him the less I knew Y^t I.. j:-i 
 jljvea^ardoverhim";?. nai'/se'^^rinS:: 
 
 fJS bind' '*'^ °' '•" bank-book rS 
 not w^ceed in finding out even if he possessed «,ch 
 
 veto's'.?; " P"'y'.''«^'>»*-f-ed individual. 
 excXr^;'Xir"That" '" t ™""''' '"^ 
 
 eve« h* k.^ *i. I I , "^earures and narrow-set 
 eye. he had the look of a crook right enough, but 
 
 S9 
 
6o 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 1a\u^ I ".".."°^ '° miportant as disposition, 
 and this heavy, duU-witted, verbose feUow was the 
 epitome of respectability. He was not at all popu- 
 lar m the company, principaUy, I fancy, because of 
 his over-nicety. He bragged of the number of baths 
 he took. He was not "a good feUow." He never 
 joked nor carried on with the crowd. In the play 
 he took the part of a brutal thug, a sort of BiU Sykes, 
 and played it well though there was nothing in his 
 
 ITX'^IV^ "*f '* *' P""- "« ^" *« fox. 
 not the bull^Iog Imagine a man with the appear- 
 
 iSubourac ""** *' "^'^ °' * '*'"'' ""'^ y°" '''''" 
 Shortly after I joined the company I was allotted 
 to share his dressing-room. He told me that he 
 had requested the stage-manager to make the change, 
 because he objerted to the personal habits of his 
 fomer roommate So I had every opportunity to 
 observe him. A lot of good it did me. He talked 
 me to sleep He would recite all the news of the 
 day which I had just read for myself, and commented 
 oiMt like a country newspaper. You couldn't stop 
 
 Roland Quarles I cultivated for a different reason. 
 •I u"°f./"'f "^ •""■ A» « PoP"!" '"ding juve- 
 
 el\„H 'k "' '^"" ^^'^ ''"" "^"^ » *h*P"Wic 
 eye and there was no reason in the world save pure 
 
 cussedness why he should be a thief. I liked him 
 1 was working hard, but one can't be a detective 
 every waking minute. I sought out Roland to for- 
 get ray work. I had started disinterestedly with the 
 
Thieves' Wit gj 
 
 "%• He waf hat d by "l tt ™ ' ">» V"-*^» 
 P«ny, because he desoised thl' / ? u °^ ^''^ "">- 
 took no pain, to S bI .K °'"'* """''• »"d 
 I niay say all women „t « *''' '^°'"'" '"'^d him. 
 
 notpUhLrfrsrr:rsii'j;r- "^^^ 
 
 -d^ieTe^aTriteesf °''"? ""^ ^'-^-l. 
 his bearing. I„ th^t »„„„ " '^°"'^""'*"«» of it in 
 
 alone. He had a sort „7 * !,°""« "^°" '^^ «°od 
 or as a novelfst wo^u dljTe 'se""?' ' "J."" "'^' 
 secret sorrow. His iT'Au T**^ "^ '=''«"»'» « 
 mous. HcuTedt„.H«" ."l*' ^''"*« ^" enor. 
 ing at it ° '*"* •' "" *••• P°*« without look. 
 
 ^rL^ln7ofT%1't ';* ^'""^^^ '"™ '"•» 
 Milboume were Ae onlv "k" ^^P'^y ''« «"d 
 my meek insT^ t"^'',r'"^'" ''''° "^^" «'»d« 
 them all onlyCsWuj'^^^^^ Of 
 
 tried to make m? fe"e"l "'^^ ^°""« "«•" "»-" 
 •whileheiiioredl h l"'' '""ff^'fi""". For 
 last that I ^.TcinT n ^ '* "T'^ '° '"''^' «" at 
 upon in airas'sIirwaTheC f --"- 
 
 One mgfat .fter the show he offered me , cigar 
 
62 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 at the stage door, and we walked down the street 
 smoking and chatting until our ways parted. He 
 was not on during the second act, and after my brief 
 scene I got in the habit of stopping a while in his 
 room before I went up to change. He had good 
 sense. It was worth while talking to him. We be- 
 came very friendly. He was only a year or two 
 younger than I, but to me he seemed like a mere 
 kid. 
 
 One night in the middle of our talk he said: 
 "You're not like an actor. You're human." 
 
 "Don't you like actors?" I asked curiously. 
 
 "It's a rotten business for men," he said bitterly. 
 "It unsexes them. But here I am I What am I to 
 do about it?" 
 
 I learned as I knew him better that the popular 
 young actor, notwithstanding the adulation of 
 women— or perhaps because of it, led an exemplary 
 life. The dazzling palaces of the Great White Way 
 knew him not. It was his custom to go home after 
 the show, have a bite to eat in solitude, and read 
 until he turned in. 
 
 One night he invited me to accompany him home. 
 He had a modest flat in the Gramercy Square neigh- 
 bourhood with an adoring old woman to look after 
 him. The cheerful fire, the shaded lamp, the capa- 
 dous easy chair, gave me a new conception of bache- 
 lor comfort. Books were a feature of the place. 
 
 "Pretty snug, eh?" he skid, following my admiring 
 eyes. 
 
 "Well, you're not like an actor either," said I. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 63 
 
 He laughed. "After the theatre this is like 
 Heaven I" 
 
 "Why don't you chuck it?" I asked. "You're 
 young." 
 
 He shrugged. "Who wants to give an actor a 
 regular job?" 
 
 We had scrambled eggs and sausages. I stayed 
 for a couple of hours talking about the abstract ques- 
 tions that young men loved to discuss. When I left 
 he was as much of an enigma to me as when I ar- 
 rived. He was willing to talk about anything under 
 the sun— except himself. Without appearing to, he 
 foiled all my attempts to draw him out. 
 
 Hard upon this growing friendship it was a shock 
 to learn from Sadie as a resuult of her work during 
 the days, that it was Roland Quarles who had de- 
 posited forty thousand dollars in his bank. 
 
 "Impossible!" I said in my first surprise. 
 
 "I got it direct from the bank," she said. "It was 
 the Second National. He deposited forty thousand 
 m cash on April Sixth." 
 
 My heart sunk. 
 
 "But that doesn't prove that he stole the pearls," 
 
 fellow "' ^^^ *''"*** ""^ "'''"^ ^" *^^ ''°""« 
 "I hope not," I said gloomily. "Btit if it wasn't 
 
 he then our promising clue is no good." 
 
 "Maybe he won it on the Stock Exchange." 
 
 "That doesn't explain the cash. No broker pays 
 mcash." '^ ' 
 
 "Well I can think of ten good reasons why he 
 
64 Thieves' Wit 
 
 couldn't have done it," Sadie taid obstinately. She 
 had too warm a heart, perhaps, to make an ideal 
 investigator. 
 
 That night Roland asked me home to supper 
 again. This was about a week after the first occa- 
 sion. The old woman had gone to bed and he 
 cooked creamed oysters in a chafing-dish, while 
 I looked at the paper. 
 
 "Wouldn't it be nice to have white hands waiting 
 at home to do that for you?" I suggested teasing^y. 
 
 "Never for me I" he said with a bitter smile. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "What I can have I don't want. What I want I 
 can never have." 
 
 "You never can tell," I said encouragingly. I was 
 thinking what a superb couple the handsome young 
 pair made on the stage. It seemed low to cross- 
 examine him while he was preparing to feed me, but 
 there was no help for it. 
 
 "The market is off again," I said carelessly. 
 "Chance for somebody to make money." 
 
 "How can you make money when the market is 
 going down," he said innocently. 
 
 If the innocence was assumed it was mighty well 
 done. However, I told myself his business was 
 acting. 
 
 "By selling short," I said. 
 
 "I never understood that operation." 
 
 I explained it. 
 
 "Too complicated for me," he said. "I con- 
 sider the whole business immoral." 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 6S 
 
 JcZllt ""i!^"^'''i*° 'f 'J^ of solid, permanent 
 invejment.. He immediately looked interested. 
 
 ter." hVA*;!? *°Q "" '"""hing «bout such mat- 
 ters, he said. "Suppose a man had a little money 
 to mvest, what would you advise ?" ^ 
 
 Your savings?" I asked with a smile. 
 
 Lord I I couldn't save anything. No, I have 
 a friend who has a few thousand su^jIus." 
 
 this straw. Maybe a friend had entrusted him with 
 money to invest. Hardly likely though. Td ! 11 
 more unlikely that it would be handed ovir in cash 
 
 2;;:d"" ""^ «°°' '•'^"' -^^ ^» -"i'^ct "t 
 .aid rhi:x;::;f "^ "'°" ^^'-^ "«*- "^ 
 
 ^J^ shall soon be out of it now. one way or the 
 
 '•What do you mean?" I asked. 
 I mean to leave the stage at the close of this en 
 gagement or before." *"" 
 
 "What are you going to do?" 
 
 I couldn't get anything else out of him. It was all 
 mysterious enough. He sounded utterly rTcUe" 
 when you got below the surface, but »omehow"fwa 
 not the recklessness of a crook. 
 
 Worse was to follow. 
 
 First, however, I must put down how the .{h.o 
 t. on stood with Milbourne,Lcausc ?shaJ„ot rt™ 
 
66 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 to him for some time. Kenton Milboume I I have 
 to tmUe eveiy time I write it, the fancy appellation 
 wa.,o unsuitable to the tallow^heeL.Vtchct" 
 
 .tun^h"''^°'""■V^• '•''••^ved Milboume had 
 «oen t^e pearl,, and I worked hard to justify my 
 
 allinit t"''"^ """« •"' ''' '^y -^-^ ^- 
 
 Every night he talked me to a standstill. He 
 
 seemed to be a man totaUy devoid of individuality. 
 
 that dullness .. the favourite and most effective dis- 
 gu.se of a sharper. His talk was a little too dull to 
 be natural, and 6nce in a while I received an im- 
 pression that he was anything but dull 
 
 One night I said to him as Roland had said to 
 me. You don't seem like an actor. How did you 
 get mto this business ?" ' 
 
 "Drifted into it." he said. "Always knew I could 
 act. but was too busy with other things. I had an 
 attack of typhoid in Sydney four years ago which 
 Srl7 '"'?• '^''" ' ^" Ratting better a 
 play, just to help me pass the time. I made a won- 
 derfulh.tm.t They wouldn't let me .top. Sbce 
 then I ^e never been idle. I haven't any conceit 
 80 they offer me the horrible parts " ' 
 
 "Sydney?" I said. 
 
 U Jk7l '"""^ i" Australia. I came to America 
 
 last FaU because there was a wider field for my art " 
 
 I put this down in my mind as a lie. I do not 
 
 know Australia but I suppose they have their own 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 67 
 
 New yS' °' •""="• •"«' *^» ™»« t«i*«d good 
 r . H" apparent .lupidin, .dll m„T'5 „, 
 
 .oi^"p^"£r;r£A'«r;?," 
 
 bourne out of my mind *°" ^''- 
 
 *e«ve bu.™„ CcZ S **' Jw*;:' Z 
 
68 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 moment What with her thirty dollan a week from 
 the theatre and her additional salary at operative 
 (which Miu Hamerton insiited on her taking) 
 Sadie wai in affluent circumitances, and for the firat 
 time in her life she was able to dress as a pretty 
 girl ought. With her Spring hat and suit, her dainty 
 gloves and boots, all from the best shops, she was 
 a» smart a little lady as you'd find from one end of 
 the Avenue to the other. 
 
 "You look sweet enough to eat!" I said, grinning 
 at her like a Cheshire cat. 
 
 "Cut it out I" she said with her high and mighty 
 air. "It's business hours. I'm operative S F " 
 "What's that for, swell figure?" 
 ''Wait till after the whistle blows." 
 "After hours you're Miss Covington the actress, 
 and I'm not allowed to know you." 
 "Well, there's Sunday." 
 "But this is only Tuesday." 
 "I've got to respect my boss, haven't I?" 
 "What if I kissed you anyhow?" 
 "I'd box your ears!" she said quick as lightning. 
 And she would. I sighed, and came back to 
 earth. It was not that I was afraid of the box on 
 the ears, but she was right, and I knew it. As soon 
 as I started that line of talk I resigned my proper 
 place as the boss of the establishment. 
 "What's new?" I asked. 
 
 "I found out something interesting to^ay," she 
 said. "Miss Hamerton's in love with Roland 
 Quarles." 
 
Thieves* Wit 
 
 69 
 
 "I gueiied that long .go," I „ld dmly. 
 
 5.d.e was much taken aback. EvidenUy the had 
 
 I left It for you to find out for yourielf." 
 ♦h. ^''' "''^'f j^'i'ved he had anything to do with 
 the robbery. . Sadie .aid with a touch of defiancl 
 ning?" " '^ ^" •''" *° digressed in the begin- 
 
 looZi^'i*''"'^ ''" •omething that would have 
 dlv .; 'IT 1° " '"'"•'" "''J Sadie .com. 
 
 ..nM u ""n ""'' '^^ ''"^"'^ *•« t" t«ll you." 
 .K K 'J' *c" ^°"'" ' "'''«'^' » "«'" ''"ffed at the 
 
 Sf of " ?"'"u"" «'"'"« «^"P^^ •" »he confi! 
 aence of my client than I. 
 
 J^Ye. to-day. She didn't tell me about her feel- 
 
 ^wu """■ ^ ^""'^ *''" P«rt." 
 What IS this mysterious thing?" 
 
 tnJ?''^ ?^V°''' "" *^""" »'"" »•>« ««w the cryp- 
 togram she know, there couldn't be anything i„ it " 
 , This was getting denser instead of more dear. 
 
 JJ^iTltsked'"' ''' ^'^^°«"'" '''' ""^ 
 
 Roland Quar es because he has no idea of leaving 
 the company." ««vu^ 
 
 strangely loving women reason. Aloud I said: 
 Now for the thmg that a mere man would have 
 considered evidence." 
 
70 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 •aid Sadie. "It 
 
 "Don't try to be •«rc««ic," 
 doem't Mit you." 
 
 ..Zt^r'ety"'^""* *" '•"• '^^ '•o" "-?" I 
 ♦». ?L"" » " '■" " "^ '"'* ''ent on: "It „em. 
 on about the pearli." 
 
 .„ Jflf- ^t'** " '"'" ''"""" »« thought he knew 
 .on,eth.ng about jewel., .„d ,he .ay. he .carcely 
 
 and .he finaUy bet him a box of cigar. .gain,t a box 
 
 wore the genuine pearl.. That i. how .he came to 
 wear them the night they were .tolen." 
 
 ■'The devill" I exclaimed. 
 
 "But he has never .poken about it .ince. She 
 beheve. that he ha. forgotten all about the St." 
 
 thil m«nt "" ""' ^°'"' *^^ '•°°'" """''"'"8 -hat 
 k„7? ""*)** !°°^ ^^ that," .aid Sadie. "We 
 StTfJth^?"'"" Wouldn't he have paid hi. 
 
 bellJve."""* '°'" ^ '"'^ ^ **^'* """^ ^hat to 
 
 fo^rt^omlnr'" """"'' "'' '"'"^' "-«-"* 
 
 "What*, that?" 
 
 "He-, in love with her. He', making love to her 
 now. He couldn't do that if he had robbed her." 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 •nxiou. to ruin the ^unTi»V^°^* ' "" "« 
 muniction taken L CnLnV^".' ^'^'^'' ""■ 
 and that my.tel„. «,h T V^ ^^^^^'^^^m 
 look like pr/tty .tr^Vetlet:" iT^^*^'""*"^- *° 
 
 beginning, .nd „ hVwet !V "T *""•= « t^" 
 till he caSe off ' °"'' '''' "''''^ ">« to wait 
 
 to d::fa:?Kr "^f r "t '°^ ^ '>-<' 
 
 graceful, and with that burden on' h*" 1""^'°""'' '» 
 variably kind to me I ?1 i^ " *"' '"■"»'• *° «- 
 thcle... I told mysdf Lit '*! " r"^!*- Never- 
 
 todi^overtheTl^lJ-ctl';:^^ 
 
 wind had bC^f ,„1?°ll"'''« "•!•!. " if the 
 "arch. There wa,«n"r r, " "P"^' thorough 
 table a. yet un^ed'^ N i"""' °" *"■' ^^'"4- 
 Nothing in' the 3™we« of K'"^- ""T""' ^"* 
 wa. no trunk in The rooI'"'^rT""«- ^'>»« 
 
 pocket. s^4^^:?£:^z:f:^ 
 
72 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "dimity" note-paper without an envelope. Opening 
 it I beheld a communication in cryptogram exactly 
 like the other. 
 
 I could hear the voices on the stage. Roland was 
 about to come off. I hastily returned all the papers 
 to his pocket as I had found them, — except the 
 cryptogram. That I put in my own pocket. 
 
 When he came in we picked up our conversation 
 where we had dropped it. 
 
 As soon as I got home I made haste to translate 
 my find. I had saved the numerical key I used 
 before. I instantly found that it fitted this com- 
 munication also. This is what I got : 
 
 "I. has known of her loss for a couple of weeks. 
 She has fjut two detectives in the company. Faxon 
 and the girl Covington. I have this straight Watch 
 yourself. f " 
 
 So this is why Quarles cultivated my f riend^ip I 
 I thought, feeling all the bitterness of finding myself 
 betrayed. I could no longer doubt my evidence. 
 My friendly feelings, for the young fellow were 
 curdled. 
 
8 
 
 T WOKE up next morning with a leaden wciirht 
 1 on my breast. I had no zest in the day^kh 
 
 What I had earned. I put off the evil moment as 
 
 nTt;; T' '• • """""« '""^ '"°™'"8 Sad^Jame 
 
 II i • ^"* ''^ °^<^'" t° Newark on a wild 
 
 noi'''\?°l."Pf'*'"« ^'^» Hamerton that after- 
 
 soZh- •'"" ^ "'"''^ ''^ "P ""-d said that I h'd 
 somethmg important to report She «,M k 
 
 She had never looked lovelier H.r 
 
 . bo..r of Spring ao.e,., .„d "he "".7^,1" 
 
 ™" o7o fh "" '""". "'""^ ""■»"» *-^e 
 
 ::*f;'te!;rhetf..!Ltr^^^^^^^^ 
 
 I told her bunglingly enough, God knows of thr 
 second cryptogram and where I had 7o°nd it I 
 crushed her like a Hower trodden underfoot ' 
 
 73 
 
74 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 Presently, however, she began to fight. "The 
 first thing the thief would do when he found him- 
 self under surveillance," she faltered, "would be to 
 try to divert your attention to some one else." 
 
 "He would hardly choose one ordinarily so far 
 above suspicion as fhe leading man," I said reluc- 
 tantly. 
 
 "He may have known, since he knows so much, 
 that you were already suspicious of Ro — of the 
 other." She could not get his name out. 
 
 I felt like the criminal myself, trying to convince 
 her against her heart. "Taken by itself the letter 
 would not be conclusive, but with the other 
 things " 
 
 "What other things?" 
 
 "Well, his provoking you by a bet to wear the 
 genuine pearls." 
 
 "There's nothing in that," she said quickly. "If 
 he had had an ulterior motive he would have spoken 
 of the bet since. He w^uld have lost it, wouldn't he, 
 to keep us from suspecting?" 
 
 I conceded the reasonableness of this— taken by 
 itself. "But his bank account?" 
 
 "Bank account?" she repeated, startled. We had 
 not told her of this. 
 
 "On April sixth Mr. Quarles deposited forty 
 thousand dollars in cash in the Second National 
 Bank." 
 
 All the light went out of her face. "Oh I Are you 
 sure?" she gasped. 
 
Thieves' Wit 75 
 
 "I have seen the entry in his passbook. I verified 
 It at the banlc" 
 
 Her heart still fought for him. "But my neck- 
 lace was worth only twenty-five thousand. And a 
 thief would never be able to realise the fuU value of 
 It. 
 
 I shrugged. Naturally I did not care to add to 
 her unhappmess by telling her that the pearls were 
 worth half a million. She thought from my shrug 
 that I meant to convey that if her lover had been 
 guilty of one theft why not others? 
 
 It crushed her anew. She had no more fight left 
 in her. She sank back dead white and bereft of 
 
 ™w!.°"" .".w"'* """'"8 *'•'"'" **>«= whispered. 
 What shall I say to him? What shaU I say?" 
 Don't see him," I cried. 
 "I must. I promised." 
 
 I sat there, I don't know for how long, staring at 
 the carpet like a clown. 
 
 The telephone rang and we both jumped as at a 
 pistol shot, 
 
 I offered to answer it, but she waved me back. 
 She went to the instrument falteringly— but I was 
 surprised at the steadiness of her voice. "What it 
 it?" she asked. 
 
 "Let him come up," she said firmly. By her 
 stricken white face I knew who it was. 
 
 I jumped up in a kind of panic. "I will have 
 myself carried up to the roof garden so I won't meet 
 hun," I said. 
 
 "No please ;' she murmured. "I want you here." 
 
7^ Thieves' Wit 
 
 "But he mutt not meet me 1" I cried. 
 "Wait in the next room." Her voice broke pite- 
 ously. "Oh, I must have some one here— some one 
 I can trust 1" 
 
 What was I to do? I obeyed very unwillingly 
 As soon as he entered I found that the transom over 
 the door was open, and I could hear everything that 
 passed between them. Of all the difficult things 
 that have been forced on me in the way of business, 
 that half hour's eavesdropping was as bad as any. 
 
 He must have been highly wrought up because he 
 apparently never noticed her state. His very first 
 speech was tragically unfortunate. He spoke in a 
 harsh strained voice as if the painful thing he had 
 kept hidden so long was breaking out in spite of him. 
 "Irma, how soon can you replace me in the cast?" 
 "Eh?" she murmured. I could imagine the pain- 
 ful start she suppressed. 
 
 ''I want to get out. I can't stand it any longer." 
 "But why?" she whispered. 
 ''I hate acting I It is not a man's work." 
 "Have you just discovered it?" she asked with a 
 little note of scorn very painful to hear. 
 
 "No," he said gloomily, "I've always known. If 
 I had been left to myself I never would have acted. 
 But I came of a family of actors. I was brought 
 up to it. I kept on because it was all I knew. It is 
 only since I have acted with you that it has become 
 more than I can bear." 
 
 "Why, with me?" she whispered. 
 
Thieves' Wit 77 
 
 voZ"""" ^ '"'' ^°"'" ^^ "•'^ '" » ''"'h. abrupt 
 
 catl^fn Irltr' "" "° "°" **•"" » P»'"^"' 
 foor'l h°" ""dn't tell mc I'm a presumptuous 
 
 ™?7 tI • ?^ °^ "y presumption yet. I love 
 ITL u ""' '"?'''-''«««^« of love that I have lo 
 go through every night with you drives me madl I 
 love you 1 I am ashamed to make my livinTb' ex 
 hibitmg a pretence of love I" ' 
 
 JJu .''" J""" ''•""^'■'» profession and your 
 mother's," she murmured. ^ 
 
 "Ti^77"' '^- ■■"' *'^'"8'" ''^ "id gloomily 
 iI?7k "^ ' ^"""'"^ *^''"- They loved their w^rk' 
 I hark back to an earlier strain, I guess. I harno 
 
 t?„'> ^r r '° """^^ " -"«•» -^il»- I hate tj; 
 
 his^^rSke^^V"'' T^'^' '° ''"'• ''"°*''»r '»«" b^c 
 leaned 1' it' ,^ T"' '° *^^ °P'=" -'"'low and 
 S. 1^ • •^"'^ forgotten Roland's supposed 
 
 L'b' 'f.' "'A' •""■ ""•" '- w "» B^ 
 
 H. ,„ ,dll pleading ,i,h fc,-, ,,,,„ ,^ ^.^ ^^.^^ 
 
78 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "A month ago I would just have left without saying 
 anything to you. I don't even know that I am fit 
 for anything else but acting. I could not ask you 
 to give it up without having something else to offer 
 you. I suffer so to see you on the stage. To see 
 your name, your person, your doings all public 
 property drives me wild I I cannot stand seeing you 
 show your lovely self to the applause of those vulgar 
 fools 1" 
 
 "You are mad I" she whispered. 
 
 "I know— but I have had a stroke of luck 1" 
 
 "Luck?" 
 
 "I have comc^ into some money. Oh, nothing 
 much, but enough to give me a start in some new 
 country — if you could come with me I Oh, I am a 
 fool to think it. But I had to tell you I loved you. 
 You would be quite justified in laughing, and show- 
 ing me the door. But I love you I It seemed 
 cowardly to go away without telling you." 
 
 "You are askmg me to give up my profession?" 
 she murmured unsteadily. 
 
 "I ask nothing. I expect nothing. But if you 
 could — 1 You'd have to pve it up. It would kill 
 me otherwise. I could stand better having none of 
 you than half." He laughed harshly. "Am I not 
 ridiculous? Tell me to go." 
 
 "I am not so enamoured of make-believe either," 
 she murmured. 
 
 She was weakening I I trembled for her. This 
 wretched business had to be cleared up before they 
 could hope for any happiness. 
 
Thieves' Wi* 79 
 
 He cned her name over and over brokenly. "Mv 
 
 tZi^uJ.^'" '^"' » » chance-lTever ex^ 
 
 foriii^^^elt."'^'^'"^"^""'^---"- 
 
 I went to the window-sill again and leaned out. 
 
 trlw- ?v "'^^ ^'"^" »'»'' «"»« in- She was 
 tremblmg and breathing fast. 
 
 "He has gone," she said. 
 
 tt^fjl''? *"" '""'' '"*° *''' °"»" "o'n- She noticed 
 stilt;. *"" "" °P^"- "^°" heard?" sSeTaid 
 
 wameTto'"' "''^ ""~™f°rtably. "More than I 
 
 "I don't care," she said. 
 
 "Have you promised to marry him?" I asked 
 lafkldtftim^^'- •'^'^-P-^d nothing. 
 
 "Good I" I said involuntarily. 
 
 She looked at me startled. "You heard I" .f,- 
 ^d^defiantly. "Were they the wordsT/aUy 
 
 said'Jrompily'"''" ''"'"''"^ "'""' ''"'"- -^«." ^ 
 th,!!!" '"""i"* «"^it«de lighted up her face. "Oh 
 
 •Wh-" '^^ r^- ^^' ^"^ ^^nr near tears 
 Anythmg else would be unbelievable I" 
 
 Nol Nol" she cried with surprising energy 
 
8o 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 I will not carry this tragic farce any further. I 
 hate the pearls now. I would not wear them if I 
 did get them back. They are gone. Let them go I" 
 
 "But Miss Hamerton " I persisted. 
 
 "Not another word I" she cried. "My mind is 
 made up 1" 
 
 "I must speak," I said doggedly. "Because you 
 as much as said you depended on getting honest ad- 
 vice from me. You can't stop now. If you marry 
 Mr. Quarles, the fart mat you have suspected him 
 though it was only f j. a moment will haunt you all 
 your life. No marriage is a bed of roses. When 
 trouble does come your grim spectre will invariably 
 rise and mock you. It must be definitely laid in its 
 grave before you can marry the man." 
 
 The bold style of my speech made her pause. I 
 had never spoken to her in that way before. She 
 eyed me frowning. 
 
 "I hope you know it's not the job I'm after," I 
 went on. "I never had work to do that I enjoyed 
 less. But you put it up to me to give you honest 
 advice." 
 
 "I can't spy on the man I love," she faltered. 
 
 "You can't marry the man you suspect," I re- 
 turned. 
 
 "I don't su^ect him." 
 
 "The suspicious circumstances are not yet ex- 
 plained." ' 
 
 "Very wcD, then. 111 send for him to come back, 
 and he will explain them." 
 
 I had a flash of insight into the character of my 
 
Thieves' Wit 8i 
 
 young friend. "No I" I cried "If he knew that 
 you had ever .u.pected him. he would never for^Jve 
 
 "Then what do you want me to do?" she cried 
 
 hi. ^ZIZT''-''''" '°"" '° p^°^"« p'-^' «^ 
 
 She gave in with a gesture. 
 
 BrllT^ '^'" Hamerton I walked twice around 
 
 lu^i ^Tr *" P"' "y »''«'8''*» in order. I 
 wished to bekve in Roland's imiocence almost a 
 ardendy a, she did. but I had to force myse to 
 keep an open mind. A fixed idea one wa/o tl^c 
 other .s fatal to any investigator. So I argued 
 agamst h™ for a while to strike a balance. iTo d 
 E /f'" I" ' "^^ °' ""•" ^''° ^0"ld stop at 
 
 In tt Sr**"?* '\"™" '^' ^""-^ ''« desired 
 In the bottom of my heart, like anybody else. I had 
 
 a sneakmg admiration for the type. "*'•*"•«' 
 
 True, I had never heard of . man robbing a 
 
 wcmian m order to secure the means to supporfer 
 
 St.Il. human psychology i, an amazing thing You 
 
 SmeYlTn?' J '"T^'^ "-y"'' °*«« the othe^ 
 times I had been brought face to face with the appar' 
 en% .mpossible Particularly is human nature in. 
 genious m justifying itself. 
 
 I finally made up my mind to search Roland's 
 
 marked a htt e safe there. Surely it must contain 
 
 S. Tk "T r '^^"" ""^ ^"y °r the other 
 What I hoped to find was some natural and hone, 
 
82 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 explanation of the turn of money he had received. 
 
 Around the theatre that night Roland and I were 
 at friendly at uiual. The shadow was somewhat 
 lifted from his dark eyes. They burned with an 
 expectant fire. An extraordinary restlessness pos- 
 sessed him. For all he said he hated it, that time 
 anyway, he outdid himself in playing his role. As 
 far as I could see, he and Irma held no communica- 
 tions outside the play. ^, 
 
 In pursuance of the plan I had made, I insisted on 
 his tupping with me that nig^t. I was free to leave 
 the theatre afte^ the second act, so I went on ahead 
 to order the supper I said. He was to meet me at 
 the Thespis club at half-past eleven. I did order the 
 supper there, then hurried on to his flat, arriving 
 some time before his customary hour of coming from 
 the theatre. 
 
 His old housekeeper having seen me in his com- 
 pany on several occasions expressed no surprise at 
 my coming. I said I would wait for him, and she 
 left me to my own devices in the front room. I 
 satisfied myself that she had gone to her own room 
 on the other side of the kitchen, three doors away, 
 then I set to work. 
 
 I had brought a bunch of skeleton keys and a set 
 of miniature housebreaking tools. I didn't require 
 them, for I found that the little safe had one of the 
 earliest and simplest forms of a lock. Part of my 
 apprenticeship had been spent in learning how to 
 open such locks merely by listening to the fall of the 
 tumblers as one turned the knob. All that was re- 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 83 
 
 quired was patience. It wa» a little after ten. Sup- 
 posing that Roland waited for me at the Thespis 
 club only half an hour, I had two hours in which to 
 work. It was painfully exciting. I had my first 
 glimpse of the point of view of a housebreaker. 
 
 The safe door swung open at last. I looked in- 
 side with a beating heart. It contained but little; 
 a diary, which I left for the moment; a wallet con- 
 taining a sum of money, a bundle of papers en- 
 closed by an elastic band. I went over the papers 
 hastily; they consisted of insurance policies, the- 
 atrical contracts and business letters of old dates 
 which had nothing whatever to do with my case. 
 
 However, there was still a little locked drawer to 
 investigate. After a number of tries I fixed a key 
 that would open it. The first thing I saw was a 
 number of pieces of men's jewelry that Roland 
 doubtless used for stage properties. The second 
 thing I saw was a beautiful little antique box made 
 of some sweet-smelling wood which contained several 
 notes in Irma's handwriting and some withered 
 flowers. The third and last thing was a seal leather 
 case such as jewellers display. Upon pressing the 
 spring the cover flew back and I saw lying on a bed 
 of white velvet a string of wonderful dusky pearls. 
 
 For many moments I gazed at them in stupid 
 astonishment. God knows what I expected to find. 
 Certainly not that. What did it mean ? It looked 
 just the same as the string Miss Hamerton had 
 showed me. I counted them. There were sixty- 
 seven pearls. Was it another of Roberts' replicas? 
 
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84 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 Perhaps Roland had bought it and stowed it away 
 for sentimental reasons. That seemed pretty far- 
 fetched. 
 
 I carried it to the electric light. There I could 
 see the blue cast like the last gleam of light in the 
 twilight sky. The bits of stone had a wonderful 
 fire, life. An instinct told me they were genuine 
 pearls. But if they were it must be the string, for 
 Mount had said there were no others. I remem- 
 bered that Miss Hamerton had told me she had 
 made a little scratch on the clasp and I eagerly 
 looked for it. There was a kind of mark there. 
 At this point I shook my head and gave up speculat- 
 ing. 
 
 I slipped the case in my pocket, locked the drawer 
 and locked the safe again. I switched off the lights 
 and let myself quietly out of the flat. 
 
 I decided to go to the Thespis club as if nothing 
 had happened. I was not at all anxious to meet 
 Roland until I knew where I stood, but I reflected 
 that if I failed him it might rouse his suspicions and 
 precipitate a catastrophe before I was ready for it. 
 There was not much danger that he would look in 
 his safe that night if I kept him late. His house- 
 keeper would tell him I had been there, but I could 
 explain that. In the morning I would have him 
 watched. 
 
 Roland was at the club when I arrived. "I've 
 been at your rooms," I said instantly. "I had an 
 idea I was to wait for you there. But I got think- 
 ing it over and decided I had made a mistake.' 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 85 
 
 "You've got a memory like a colander," he said 
 good-naturedly. "Better do something about it." 
 
 We sat down to our supper. Roland was in for 
 him, extraordinary spirits. All the while we ate, 
 drank and joked I was wondering in the back of my 
 head what kind of a change would come over his 
 grim, dark, laughing face if he knew what I had in 
 my pocket. 
 
Fir^ '"'^ **" "y **'•' ""'^ morning. I 
 called up Miss Hamerton merely saying that 
 I would come to the hotel half an hour later. Sadie 
 came m, but having kept from her what had already 
 happened, I could not tell her this. I was not 
 obliged to tell her all the developments of the case, 
 of course, but she had a moral right to my confi- 
 dence, and so I felt guilty and wretched every way 
 Sadie I knew would be terribly cut up by the way 
 thmgs were tending, and I had not the heart to face 
 It, with what I had to go through later. 
 
 Miss Hamerton received me with great bright 
 eyes that looked out of her white face like stars at 
 
 T' ..P^ '"'*''"* ^^^ ""g'lt "g'»t of my face she 
 said: "You have news?" 
 
 I nodded. 
 
 "Good or bad?" she whispered breathlessly. 
 There was no use beating around the bush. 
 iJad, 1 said bluntly. 
 
 A hand went to her breast. "Tell me— quickly " 
 , I drew out the case. She gave no sign of recog- 
 nising it I snapped it open. "Is this the lost neck- 
 lace ? I asked. 
 
 With a little cry, she seized upon it, examined the 
 
 pearls, breathed upon them, looked at the clasp. 
 
 res I Yes I she exclaimed, joy struggling in her 
 
 86 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 87 
 
 "Where did yoa 
 
 face with an underlying terror 
 get it?" 
 
 "Out of a safe in Mr. Quarles' flat." 
 She looked at me stricken stupid. 
 I had to repeat the words. 
 
 pew? '""'""' '"""^'^ "°* ^""'"' ™^" '^^ ^J*'*- 
 ^"I wish to God it were not true!" I cried 
 In his room-his room I" she muttered. Sud- 
 the fl^oor " *" " '"""P^*='* ^''«« heap on 
 
 I gathered her up in my arms and laid her on 
 the sofa. I called Mrs. Bleecker. who came run- 
 nmg, accompanied by Irma's maid. A senseless 
 scene of confusion foUowed. The foolish women 
 roused half the hotel with their outcries. I myself 
 earned the beautiful, i ...imate girl into herTed- 
 room. For me ,t was holy ground. It was almost 
 as bare as a convent cell. It pleased me to find that 
 she mstmctively rejected luxury on retiring to her 
 last stronghold. I laid her on her bed-the pillow 
 
 to the outer room to await the issue. All this time, 
 I must tell you, Mrs. Bleecker was relieving S 
 feeling by abusing me. From the first I had ap- 
 prehended hatred in that lady. 
 
 I waited a few minutes, feeling very unnecessary, 
 and wondering if I would not do better to returnTo 
 my office when Mrs. Bleecker came back, and wi h 
 a very .1, grace said that Miss Hamerton wantelto 
 know If It was convenient for me to wait a little 
 
88 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 while until she was able to see me, and would I please 
 say whatever was necessary to people who called. I 
 almost wept upon receiving this message. I sent 
 back word that I would stay all day if she wanted 
 me. Mrs. Bleecker glared at me, almost beside 
 herself with defeated curiosity. I had the necklace 
 safe in my pocket and she was without a clue to what 
 had happened. 
 
 So there I was established as Miss Hamerton's 
 representative. Everybody took orders from me, 
 and wondered who I was. The word had spread 
 like wildfire that ^he famous star had been taken 
 ill, and the telephone rang continuously. I finally 
 told the hotel people what to say, and ordered it 
 disconnected. I had a couple of boys stationed in 
 the corridor to keep people from the door. I sent 
 for two doctors, not that Irma was in any need of 
 medical attention, but I wished lo have the support 
 of a professional bulletin. I told them what I 
 thought necessary. They were discreet men. 
 
 Miss Hamerton had no close relatives, and I 
 could not see the sense of sending for any others. 
 I forbade Mrs. Bieecker to telegraph them. In a 
 case of this kind solitude is the best, the most merci- 
 ful treatment for the sufferer. As it was I pitied 
 the poor girl having to endure the officious ministra- 
 tions of her inquisitive servants, but I did not feel 
 justified in interfering there. 
 
 Only two men were allowed past the guard in the 
 corridor, Mr. Maurice Metz, the famous theatrical 
 manager, and Mr. Alfred Mount. The former 
 
Thieves* Wit 
 
 89 
 
 stormed about the room like a wilful child. His 
 pocketbook was hard hit. I was firm. He could 
 not see Miss Hamerton, he must be satisfied with my 
 report. Miss Hamerton had suffered a nervous 
 breakdown — with that phrase we guarded her pite- 
 ous secret, and it would be out of the qiiestion for 
 her to act for weeks to come. It was her wish that 
 the company be paid off and disbanded. 
 
 "Who the devil are you?" he demanded. 
 
 "I speak for Miss Hamerton," I said with a 
 shrug. I remembered how humbly I had besieged 
 this man's door with my play a few weeks since, and 
 now I was turning him down. 
 
 To satisfy him I had Mrs. Bleecker in. He de- 
 manded of her who I was. 
 
 "I don't know," she snapped. 
 
 Nevertheless she had to bear me out. Miss Ham- 
 erton had sent word that the company was to be 
 paid off with two weeks' salary, and the amount 
 charged to her. I referred Mr. Metz to the doc- 
 tors. They impressed him with medical phrases he 
 didn't understand. He finally departed talking to 
 himself and waving his hands. 
 
 Mr. Mount, of course, was very different. He 
 came in all suave sympathy, anxious to uphold me in 
 every way. I had wished to see him for a special 
 purpose. I couldn't allow the possibility of a 
 ghastly mistake being made. 
 
 I produced the fateful little seal leather box, and 
 snapped it open again. "Are these the lost pearls ?" 
 I asked. 
 
90 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 The man had wonderful lelf-control. No mus- 
 cle of his face changed. Only his black eyes flamed 
 up. He took the case quietly, but those eyes 
 pounced on the pearls like their prey, and wolfed 
 them one by one. He returned the case to me. A 
 curious smile wreathed the corners of his voluptuous 
 mouth. 
 
 "Those are the pearls," he said quietly. 
 "You are surer' 
 
 "Sure?" He spread out his hands. "There are 
 no other such pearls in the world." 
 I returned the case to my pocket. 
 "Where did you find them?" he asked. 
 "At present I am not free to say how they were 
 recovered," I replied. "No doubt Miss Hamerton 
 will give it out later." 
 
 "I think I understand," he said with a compas- 
 sionate air. "I suppose there will be no prosecu- 
 tion." 
 
 "I do not know," I said blandly. 
 "Maybe it would be better never to speak of the 
 matter to her?" he said softly. 
 
 I shrugged. I wasn't going to let him get any 
 change out of me. 
 
 "Anyhow it's a triumph for you," he said gra- 
 ciously. "Allow me to congratulate you." 
 
 Was there a faint ring of irony in his words? In 
 
 either case I never felt less triumphant. What 
 
 booted it to return her jewels if I hid broken her 
 
 heart? I bowed my acknowledgment. 
 
 As he left he said : "Come and see me sometimes, 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 91 
 
 though the case !s closed. You are too valuable a 
 man for me to lose sight of." 
 
 I bowed again, mutely registering a resolve to 
 ask him a thumping figure if he ever did require my 
 services. 
 
 Meanwhile I had the reporters to deal with. 1 
 have a strong fellow-feeling for the boys. As a 
 class they are the most human lot of fellows I know. 
 They do not make the rotten conditions of their 
 business. But they certainly are the devil to deal 
 with when they get you on the defensive. They 
 seemed to spread through that hotel like quicksilver, 
 bribing the bell-boys, the maids, even the waiter 
 who brought up my dinner. If we had not been on 
 the eleventh story I should have expected to find 
 them peeping in the windows. 
 
 I did not dare see them myself. In my anoma- 
 lous position they would have made a monkey of 
 me. In my mind's eye I could see the story of the 
 mysterious stranger who claimed to represent Miss 
 Hamerton, etc., etc. I had to take every precau- 
 tion, too, to keep them from that fool of a Mrs. 
 Bleecker. I carefully drilled the doctors in what 
 they should say, and then sent them down to their 
 fate. They came off better than I expected. Of 
 course the lurid tales did appear next day, but they 
 were away beside the mark. Nothing approaching 
 the truth was ever published. 
 
 A little before five everybody had gone, and I was 
 alone in the sitting-room gazing out of the window 
 and indulging in gloomy enough thoughts, when I 
 
9a 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 heard the door behind me open. I turned with a 
 ligh, expecting fresh complainti and demands from 
 the old harridan. But there was Irma trying to 
 smile at me. She was wearing a white negligee af- 
 fair that made her look like a fragile lily. She 
 walked with a firm step, but her face shocked me. 
 It looked dead. The eyes open, were infinitely 
 more ghastly than when I had laid her down with 
 them closed. Mrs. Bleecker and the maid followed, 
 buzzing around her. She seemed to have reached 
 the limits of her patience with them. 
 
 "Let me be I" she said as sharply as I ever heard 
 her speak. "I am perfectly well able to walk and 
 to speak. Please go back to the bedroom. I have 
 business to discuss with Mr. Enderby." 
 
 They retired, bearing me no love in their hearts. 
 "I must go away, quite by myself," she said, speak- 
 ing at random. "Can you help me find a place, 
 some place where nobody knows me? If I do not 
 get away from these people they will drive me mad I" 
 "I will find you a place," I said. 
 "Perhaps I'd better not go alone," she said. "If 
 I could only find the right kind of person. I'm so 
 terribly alone. That nice girl you brought into the 
 company. Miss Farrell, do you think she would go 
 with me?" 
 
 There was something in this more painful than I 
 can convey. "She'd jump at the chance," I said 
 brusquely. 
 "You have been so good to me," she said. 
 
Thieves' Wit 93 
 
 '•You can lay that I" I laid, astonished. 
 "Oh, I've not quite taken leave of my senses," she 
 said bitterly. "If I had not known the truth, it 
 would have been much worse." 
 
 This struck me as extraordinary generosity in a 
 woman who loved. 
 
 "I— I have something else to ask of you," she said 
 in the piteous beseeching way that made me want to 
 cast myself at her feet. 
 "Anything;," I murmured. 
 "Mr. Quarles is coming here at five. Please see 
 him and tell him— Oh I tell him anything you like, 
 anything that will keep him from ever trying to see 
 me again." 
 
 I nodded. "You had ter lose no time in get- 
 ting out of this," I suggested. "Can you be ready 
 by to-morrow morning?" 
 
 "I will start packing now," she said. "It will 
 give me something to do." 
 
 How well I una-rstood the hic'eous blankness that 
 faced her. 
 
 "Don't let those women bother you," I said. 
 "Refer them to me." 
 
 "They mean well," she said. 
 
 "I will £ swer for Miss Farrell," I said. "She'll 
 be here at nine to-morrow." 
 
 She started to thank me again, but I would not 
 let her go on. J really could not stand it. 
 
 "Very well, you will see," she said with a smile, 
 and left me. 
 
94 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 Shortly afterwards Roland Quarlet came strid- 
 ing down the hall. I opened the door to him. He 
 wai a*toniihed to find a strange man in the room. 
 He did not recognise me without my Faxon makeup. 
 
 "Enderby," I said in response to his enquiring 
 glance. "You met me here once before." 
 
 "What's this I hear downstairs about Miss Ham- 
 erton being sick?" he demanded anxiously. 
 
 "She has had a nervous breakdown," I said. 
 
 He was not deceived. "What does that mean ?" 
 he demanded. "She was quite well yesterday." 
 
 I shrugged. 
 
 "Can I see her^" 
 
 I shook m> head. 
 
 "I will speak to Mrs. Bleecker, then." 
 
 "You can't see her, either." 
 
 "Who are you ?" he demanded, as so many others 
 had done. 
 
 I gave him my card, hoping that he would take 
 the hint, and save me further explanations. 
 
 Not a bit of it. "Investigator? What does that 
 mean? Detective?" 
 
 "Precisely." 
 
 "What's it all about?" he cried irritaMy. "Why 
 are you looking at me like a policeman?" 
 
 "Look at me close," I said. 
 
 He stared at me angry and puzzled. "I have seen 
 
 you before — more than once " Then his face 
 
 changed. "Faxon I" he cried. "Is it Faxon?" 
 
 "The same," I said. 
 
 "What are you doing here ?" he demanded. 
 
Thieves* Wit 
 
 95 
 
 Thii parade of innocence began to cxatperate 
 me. "Do you need to ailc?" I said. 
 
 "Oh, for Heaven's take don't play with wordi," 
 he burst out. "Tell me what's the matter and be 
 done with it." 
 
 "Miss Hamerton's pearl necklace was stolen from 
 the theatre two months ago. She engaged me to 
 recover it." 
 
 "Her peak's I Stolen I" he ejaculated, amazed. 
 I could not l-ave asked to see it better done. 
 "Do you still want me to go on?" I asked. 
 "Oh, drop the mystery 1" he cried. "You fellows 
 fatten on mystery I" 
 
 "As Faxon in the th tre I was perfectly sincere 
 in my friendship for you," I went on. "I liked you. 
 But little by little against my will I was forced to 
 believe that you were the thief." 
 
 This touched bim, but not quite 1: the way I ex- 
 pected. "Me? The thief f he gasped— and sud- 
 denly burst into harsh laughter. "How did you 
 arrive at that?" 
 
 I was no longer inclined to spare him. "In the 
 first place you provoked a bet with Miss Hamerton 
 which induced her to wear the real pearls on the 
 night they were stolen." 
 
 His face turned grave. "True," he said. "I for- 
 got that. What else?" 
 
 "On April sixth you deposited forty thousand dol- 
 lars in cash in the Second National Bank." 
 He paled. "Anything more?" 
 
96 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "Do you care to explain where you got it?" I 
 asked. 
 
 "Not to you," he said proudly. "Go on with your ' 
 story." ' 
 
 "My first due was in the cryptic letter found on 
 the stage." 
 
 "I remember. You couldn't translate it." 
 
 "But I did." 
 
 "What's it got to do with me?" 
 
 "Nothing. But I found a second letter written in 
 the same cryptogram and about the same matters in 
 your pocket." 
 
 "That's a lie!*' he said. 
 
 "If you want to see it it's at my office." 
 
 "If you did find such a paper in my pocket it was 
 planted there." 
 
 "I should be glad to believe you were not the 
 man," I said mildly. 
 
 "Spare me your assurances," he said scornfully. 
 He was silent for a while, thinking over what I 
 had told him. Slowly horror grew in his face. "But 
 — ^but this is only a devilish combination of circum- 
 stances," he stammered. "You haven't proved any- 
 thing." ' 
 
 "The pearls have been recovered," I said. 
 
 "Where?" he shot at me. 
 
 "In your safe." 
 
 His legs failed him suddenly. He half fell in a 
 chair, staring at me witlessly. "Oh, my Godl" he 
 muttered huskily. "Those, hersl" 
 
 I believe I smiled 
 
Thieves' Wit 97 
 
 "And you— you have told her this story?" he fal- 
 tered. 
 
 "That's what I was engaged for." 
 
 u'i?T\'".^.*^°*^'" *"= "iterated blankly. "What 
 snail I do" 
 
 His agony was genuine enough. In spite of my- 
 self I was moved by it. "Better go," I said. "The 
 matter will be hushed up, of course." 
 
 "Hushed up I" he cried. "Never I" 
 
 This theatrical pretence of innocence provoked 
 me afresh. "Oh, get out I" I said. "And be thank- 
 ful you re getting off so easily!" 
 
 He paid no attention to me. "I must see her " 
 he muttered. 
 
 "What do you expect to gain by bluffing now?" I 
 said impatiently. "You must see that the game is 
 up. 
 
 "I wiU not leave here without seeing her." he 
 said with a kind of dull obstinacy. 
 
 "You have me at a disadvantage," I said bitterly. 
 You know I can't have you thrown out without 
 causing a scandal." 
 
 He scarcely seemed to hear me. "I wiU go when 
 she sends me," he muttered. 
 
 "AH right, my patience is equal to yours," I said 
 
 bo there we sat, he with his ghastly white face 
 
 turned towards the door into the inner rooms, mois- 
 
 tcnmg his lips from time to time, I looking out of 
 
 the window. 
 
 To make matters worse, Mrs. Blcecker came 
 Clucking m. She, Knowing nothing, fell on Quaries' 
 
98 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 neck, so to speak, and told him all her troubles with 
 sidelong shots at me. 
 
 He paid little attention to her vapouring, only re- 
 peating in his ghastly, blank way: "I must see 
 Irma." 
 
 "Of course!" said Mrs. Bleecker. "I'll tell her 
 you're here." 
 
 "Mrs. Bleecker, as a friend, I advise you not to 
 interfere," I said sternly. 
 
 She went out, flouncing her skirts at me. 
 
 To my surprise, Miss Hamerton presently came 
 in. I cannot say yrhat led her to do it, perhaps she 
 was hoping against hope that he could defend him- 
 self. There was no sign of weakness in her now. 
 Her face was as composed as marble. Mrs. Bleecker 
 did not return. 
 
 "Irma," he cried, "send this fellow away." 
 
 I made haste to go, but she kept me. "Mr. En- 
 derby must stay," she said. "He is your friend," 
 she added. 
 
 He made a gesture of despair. A hideous silence 
 descended on the three of us. 
 
 "You asked to see me," she said at last. 
 
 "Irma, do you believe this of me?" he cried like 
 a soul out of Hell. 
 
 "I am willing to hear anything you have to say," 
 she murmured. 
 
 "What does evidence matter?" he cried. "Do 
 you believe me capable of such a thing?" 
 
 "Am I not forced to?" she said very low. 
 
 His head dropped. I never saw such hopeless 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 99 
 
 I feh like an exe- 
 
 wretchedness in a man's face, 
 cutioner. 
 
 "Speak up !" I said sharply. "We are anxious to 
 believe in you." 
 
 He shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he said 
 m a stifled voice. "I doubt if I could dear myself. 
 Anyway I shan't try. It— it is killed I" 
 
 He bent a look of fathomless reproach on her. 
 "Good-bye, Irma," he said quietly. "I'm glad I was 
 the means of your getting your jewels back. I 
 never knew they had been stolen." 
 
 This to me was the purest exhibition of cheek I 
 had ever met with. I was hard put to it to keep my 
 hands off the man. If she had not been there I He 
 went. And when I turned around Irma had gone 
 back mto the next room. I was angry through and 
 
 through, and yet— and yet 1 A nagging little 
 
 doubt teased me. 
 
 So ended, as I thought, the case of the blue pearls. 
 Little did I suspect what was on the way. 
 
10 
 
 'T\IE foUowing day was a blue one for me. De- 
 X pnved of all the exciting activities of the past 
 few weeks I was at a loss what to do with myself. 
 Moreover, I was dissatisfied with the result of those 
 activities I had won out, so to speak, but my 
 client nad not For her only tragic unhappiiiess had 
 come of It. Meanwhile that little inner voice con- 
 tinued to whisper that I had not got to the bottom 
 ot the case. I could not put that young fellow's 
 amazed and despairing face out of my mind. It 
 ? .WL .'".*° ^^ *'"=°'T' °f •>» K"!lt- On top of 
 fore "^ *'"""' "'^ ^'*^'* *'•' "'«••* ''*• 
 
 About noon my uncomfortable thoughts were 
 broken mto by ths entrance of Sadie herself with 
 storm signals flying, to n-it: a pair of flashing blue 
 eyes and a red flag hoisted in either cheek. I had 
 supposed that she was already on the way to Amit - 
 viUe with Miss Hamerton, where they were to stay 
 at a sanatorium conducted by a doctor friend of 
 mine. 
 
 Before I could speak she exploded like a bomb in 
 
 "Eh?" I said, blinking and looking precious like 
 one, I expect. 
 She repeated it with amplifications. 
 
 100 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 lOI 
 
 "So you said last night," I remarked. 
 But I hadn't seen her then." 
 "Aren't you going to the country?" I asked, hop- 
 ing to create a diversion. 
 
 ''Yes, at two o'clock. But I had to see you first." 
 lo tell me what you thought of me?" 
 To beg you to do something." 
 "What is there to do?" 
 
 *i. -^r" ^Z^ ""^"^^ * ''''^""'' "•"*"''«= ' Ruined both 
 tneir lives I 
 
 I may have had my own doubts, but it wouldn't 
 nave been human to confess them in the face of an 
 attack like this. "Easy, there!" I said sulkily 
 Have yon discovered any new evidence?" 
 
 "Oh, evidence!" she cried scornfully. "I know 
 he couldn't have stolen her pearls, and in your heart 
 you know it, too." 
 
 "Sorry," I said sarcastically, "but in conducting 
 
 hlart""""* *° *'°'""'* ""^ '^"'^ ''^^°" ""y 
 
 "I know it!" she said bitterly. "That's why 
 you've been a fool!" ' 
 
 ''Well, next time I'll consult a clairvoyant." 
 Oh, don't try to be clever! It's too dreadful! 
 If you had seen her I She will never act again. And 
 
 donT ""^ ''™"*^' '^ ^^ ''" "°* "''"'^y 
 
 This struck a chiU to my breast. Sadie had an 
 intuitive sense that I could not afford to despise 
 At the same time having been called a fool, I couldn't 
 back down. 
 
102 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 'I don't see what better he can do," I said hardily. 
 
 "You can say that I" she said aghast. "You don't 
 mean it I" 
 
 A very real jealousy made me hot. That hand- 
 some young blackguard had all the women with him. 
 "Are you in love with him, too?" I asked sarcas- 
 tically. 
 
 It was a mistake. She had me there. "You're 
 doing your best to make me," she retorted. 
 ^^ "What are you abusing me for?" I complained. 
 "I did no more than what I was engaged to do." 
 
 "She was distracStedl" said Sadie. "She couldn't 
 think for herself. She depended on you." 
 
 "Well, I did the best I could for her," I said dog- 
 gedly. "You seem to think that I enjoyed doing 
 it. There is a perfect case against him." 
 
 "There is not 1" she said quickly. "Your own evi- 
 dence that you set such a store by is full of holes I" 
 I invited her to point them out. 
 "One of your points against him is that he lately 
 came into possession of a lot of money, presumably 
 the proceeds of the theft. Yet you found the peaf Is 
 on him, too. One fact contradicts the other." 
 
 "How do I know what other activities he's been 
 engaged in?" 
 
 "You do not believe that." 
 "I beg your pardon," I said stiffly. "Permit me 
 to know my own beliefs." 
 
 "If it wasn't true it wouldn't anger you." 
 "I am not angry." I smiled to prove it. 
 
Thieves' Wit 103 
 
 "How can I talk to you if you act like such a 
 child I" cried Sadie. 
 
 *|Never mind my actions. Stick to his." 
 "You know very well that he could not have car- 
 ried out several successful robberies without a lot 
 of experience. His whole open life gives the lie 
 to that. Have we not gone into every part of it?" 
 "I know I found the pearls on him," I said dog- 
 gcdly. "They could not very well have been planted 
 m a locked drawer in his own safe. He did not 
 even claim that they were." 
 
 She ignored this. "And that cryptogram," she 
 went on, "I mean the first one. It didn't say so in 
 so many words, but the inference was unmistakable 
 that Miss Hamerton's pearls had been disposed of, 
 and that part of the proceeds was waiting for the 
 thief. How do you account for that?" 
 
 I did not try to account for it. I pooh-poohed 
 It. "He convicted himself," I insisted. "We • 
 vited him, we begged him to oqplain. He cou i 
 not." 
 
 "Would not, you mean." 
 
 "What's the difference?" 
 
 She favoured me with an extraordinary glance of 
 scorn. "And you get up to understand human na- 
 turel" 
 
 "Well, let me have your understanding of it," T 
 said sarcastically. 
 
 "He was b love with her," said Sadie. "I sup- 
 pose you don't question that." 
 
104 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "No, strange as it teem*, I believe he wai in love 
 with her." 
 
 "That makes goose eggs of all your fine reason- 
 ing! Reason all night and it wouldn't make sense. 
 He might have stolen anybody else's pearls but 
 never hers. It was she who wronged love in be- 
 lieving that he could. To find out that she sus- 
 pected him killed his love dead. Losing that, what 
 did he care about his reputation? If he does away 
 with himself it will be not because he was accused 
 of a theft, but because she killed his trust in her, 
 and he doesn't caije to live without it." 
 
 I listened to all this with an affected smile of su- 
 periority, but it reached me. Every word that the 
 unhappy Quarles had uttered fitted in with Sadie's 
 theory, 
 
 "Suppose some one accused you of stealing Miss 
 Hamerton'c purse to buy me a present," she went on, 
 artfully changing her tone. "I would make a tre- 
 mendous virtuous fuss, of course, but in my heart 
 I couldn't love you any less, though you might not 
 have the sense to know it. But if they said you had 
 stolen my purse to buy me something, how I would 
 laugh I It's too silly for words." 
 
 I was rapidly weakening, but it was damnably hard 
 to own up. 
 
 "The same with this case. You think I'm in 
 love with Quarles because I defend him. That's 
 just like a man I The truth is, what hurts me is to 
 see you deceive yourself, and then look fatuous 
 about it." 
 
Thieves' Wit IQ5 
 
 un^'.T'" "*"' wielding a double^dged $word. 
 
 But if the woman who loves him was deceived, 
 """tu !*"'" '"""^ excuse," I said meekly. 
 
 That's the weaknes of her character— or the pen- 
 alty of her position, whichever you like. She is so 
 lurrounded by flattery and meanness, it has taught 
 her to suspect even her lover." 
 
 "But how did the pearls get in his safe?" I cried, 
 begging for mercy. 
 
 "I don't know. It's a mystery. I'm only trying 
 
 to show you that you haven't solved the mystery 
 
 yet. One; more she changed her tone, the witch I 
 
 1 m so keen to have you make a great success of the 
 
 case, Ben. And to help a little." 
 
 That completed the rout of my forces. "Sadie, 
 darling, I cried. "In my heart I feel the same as 
 you. I would have given in at once if you hadn't 
 begun by slapping my face I" 
 
 There was a little private interlude here. Boss 
 and operative were lost sight of. 
 
 ''Now let's get to work I" I said. 
 
 "I hope it's not too late I" she said sadly. 
 
II 
 
 T HASTENED down to Quarle.' room* near 
 J. Gramercy Square. I found hit old house- 
 keeper in tears. My glimpse beyond her showed 
 me that the place was partly dismantled. I found 
 that she was halfheartedly packing. She did not 
 know me without my Faxon makeup, and refused 
 any mformation. I suspected that she had been for- 
 bidden to speak.' However, by adroit and sympa- 
 thetic questioning, and because the poor old soul was 
 bursting with her troubles, it finaUy came out with 
 a rush. She thought her master had lost his mind, 
 he had acted so strangely, but such was her awe of 
 him, she had not dared question his commands. 
 
 AU night long he had paced his bedroom and sit- 
 ting^oom, pausing only to bum papers and cher- 
 ished mementos in the grate. When she had risen 
 from her bed and timidily enquired if he were ill, 
 he had harshly ordered her back to her room. There 
 she had lain trembling until morning, grieving be- 
 cause she thought she had offended him. 
 
 He had left his breakfast untastcd. Afterwards 
 he had caUed her to him, and in a voice and man- 
 ner totally unlike his own, had announced that he 
 was going away, and had given her instructions that 
 temfied her. His furniture was to be sent to an 
 auctioneer's under an assumed name, and was to be 
 to6 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 107 
 
 put up on the firrt ule day. She was to keep what 
 It brought in lieu of wages. Hit dothei were to 
 be lent to the Salvation Army. Hit jewelry and 
 knick-knackt the might tell or keep at the chose. 
 On lecond thoughtt he had written out hit instruc 
 tions in the form of a letter to hrr in case any of her 
 acts should be questioned. He had then called a 
 taxi from the stable he usually patronised, and had 
 departed without any baggage. This last fact 
 alarmed her more than all the reit. 
 
 All thit read fatally clear. I wat careful, how- 
 ever, to make light of it to the grief-ttricken old 
 woman. I assumed an authority which the will- 
 ingly deferred to. I ordered her to put the rooms 
 m order, and not to make any other move until she 
 heard from me again. She wat vastly cheered. 
 What she dwelt ur. most tragically was the neces- 
 sity of sending all his beautiful suits to the ragged 
 crew who profited by the Salvation Army's benefac- 
 tions. 
 
 I found out from the faxi stable that Quarlet had 
 been driven to the Pennsylvania ttation. I go'; hold 
 of his driver, a man frequently employed bj^ him. 
 He had remarked his strange appearance this mom- 
 mg. On reaching the station Quarlet had asked the 
 porter who opened the cab door what time the next 
 train left for Baltimore. On learning that he had 
 but three minutes to catch it, he had thrust a bill in 
 the chauffeur's hand, and rushed away. This had 
 been at ten o'clock; it was now nearly one. I had 
 the same driver carry me to the station, where I 
 
io8 
 
 ThiVW Wit 
 
 telephoned Sadie, matched t bite to eat, and caught 
 the next expreu South. 
 
 It wai not the most cheerful journey I have taken. 
 I had four houri to think over the tragic poiiibili. 
 ties of my mistake, and it wa* tmall comfort to re- 
 flect that it wai a natural mistake. Quarlei, with 
 hit three houn' start had only too much time to 
 put hit purpose into effect. My only hope was that 
 he might instinctively be led to wait until night. 
 Darkness has an invincible attraction for desperate 
 souls. 
 
 Arriving in Baltimore I had the whole wide city to 
 choose from, arid not a clue. No chance of any- 
 body's having marked him in ♦he crowd that left 
 the train there. However, I happened to know of 
 a certain select hotel invariably patronised by the 
 flite of the profession, and I went there on a chance. 
 The clerk I saw did not know Mr. Quarles, but upon 
 my describing him he said that such a young man 
 had been in the hotel during the afternoon. He was 
 not registered there. He recollected him because 
 he had stopped at the desk to ask an unusual ques- 
 tion. Did the clerk know where there was a taxi- 
 dermist in town? Together they had looked up air 
 address in the business directory, and the young ...an 
 had departed. He had not returned. 
 
 I hastened to tne taxidermist's wondering greatly 
 what could have been Quarles* errand in such a 
 place. Casting back in my mind, I remembered 
 having seen several little cases of mounted butter- 
 flies among his treasures. There was something 
 
Thieves' Wit 109 
 
 pathetically innocent :n the wide open trail the young 
 fellow wai leaving behind him. Thit aurely wai 
 no experienced criminal. 
 
 The itore was kept by a benignant old man who 
 somehow seemed to belong with the stuffed birds 
 and pet dogs that lined the walls of his little place. 
 I also saw many little frames of impaled beetles and 
 butterflies such as I had seen i.. Quarles' rooms. 
 The entire place had an old world look. 
 
 The old fellow was a kindly, garrulous soul who 
 required not the slightest pressure to set him talk- 
 ing. Quarles, it appeared, had made quite an im- 
 pression on him. "A handsome young fellow I" he 
 said, "and such a gentleman." Quarles, he said, 
 had been attracted into his shop by the butterflies, 
 and Jiey had fallen into talk about butterfly hunting, 
 of which sport both were devotees. Quarles had 
 finally purchased three beautiful specimens of some- 
 thing with a terrible Latin name. 
 
 As he was about to le?ve, Queries had remarked 
 that he was on his way out of town for a jaunt, and 
 he had neglected to provide himself with any cya- 
 nide. It seems that cyanide is what they use to kill 
 the insects. In all innocence the old man had fur- 
 nished it, and his customer with one more question 
 had departed. Where was there a second hand 
 clothes dealer? 
 
 Cyanide of potassium, deadliest of poisons! I 
 hastened to the second hand store with a sickness 
 at the heart. 
 They remembered Quarles here, too. The story 
 
no 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 he had told here was that he wanted some worn old 
 dodics to wear to a masquerade. He had been fur- 
 nished with a complete outfit, hat, suit, shirt, socks 
 and shoes. While things were being wrapped up, 
 he had mentioned idly that he was a stranger in 
 town, and he had a couple of hours to kill. He 
 wanted to know of a trolley line that would take 
 him out in the country. The storekeeper had rec- 
 ommended the Annapolis short line as the pleasant- 
 est ride on a mild evening. 
 
 This had been about four, and it was now a little 
 after SIX. I had caught up on him a little. I found 
 that the cars left for Annapolis every half hour. 
 By good luck the car which had left at four returned 
 while I was Waiting in the station. I interviewed 
 the conductor. He remembered Quarles. His at- 
 tention had been attracted to him because, although 
 he held a ticket to Annapolis, he had suddenly risen 
 and left the car at the Severn river bridge station. 
 1 took the six-thirty car for Annapolis. The con- 
 ductor told me that the station at the bridge was 
 used principally by summer residents who had their 
 motor boats meet them here. At this season, early 
 m May, there was but little business there. It was 
 almost dark when I got off, a balmy, Spring evening. 
 It was a lonely-looking spot. Th.re was a little set- 
 tlement up a hill, with a path from the station, but 
 I guessed that if my man had been attracted by the 
 loneliness of the situation, he would not go that way 
 I looked about. Crossing the track and climbing 
 down to a deserted strip of beach beside the wide 
 
Thieves' Wit m 
 
 sL"dJ°'""^ T"'** "y ""^"8''* 'hat a solitary per- 
 son had gone that way before me H- '^ ^ 
 
 ng a shapely shoe. /hist.„,d surelfbeT "Th'; 
 
 T^u ^T.'"' ''•""S •'"!«!«= the river towa'rds its 
 mouth, which was in view. On the other S fa' 
 ther down. sparUed the lights of the Naval Acad.' 
 
 woria, 1 tound the remains of a fire on the sand 
 The embers were still gWing. Poking among tJ^m 
 
 bi s of broT 1 "°"1^' '''' ''"' --"" ^S-d 
 Dits Of broken glass. Here obviously, Quarles h J 
 
 changed his clothes, and had destr^' d I expe„ 
 s.ve garments he wore to the scene. Ev den , The" 
 was counting on the fact- thn* ^u • Tr'^'^entiy he 
 taken tn ^.f,Kr u u . f ^* '"ere is little trouble 
 sufc r Tu^^f '^' •'^*="*'> °f « poorly dressed 
 suicide. The glass was no doubt what remained of 
 the case of butterfl es he had bouahf ""'"ea ot 
 
 had changed his shoes with the rest Hll fi I 
 
 this he would now be but a short distance ahead o 
 wn'MY"^°^"T'^ half a minute-half o/ It 
 
 "me to the mam road from Balrimore to An 
 napohs which crosses the Severn by altheJlong 
 
112 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 bridge. Automobiles crossed it at intervals. Since 
 the footprints were not resumed in the sand across 
 the road it was clear he had turned into it one way 
 or the other. The river seemed likeliest. I started 
 out on the bridge, dreading most of all to hear a 
 splash just out of my reach. It was now quite dark. 
 Out in the middle of the bridge dose to the draw 
 I came upon a motionless, slouching figure with bat- 
 tered hat pulled down over the face. Notwith- 
 standing the shapeless clothes the tall slenderness 
 was unmistakable. He was leaning with his elbows 
 on the guard rail regarding something that he held 
 in one hand. The object caught a spark frnm the 
 red light of the draw overhead. It was the vial 
 of cyanide. My heart bounded with relief. I was 
 in time — but barely. 
 "Quarles," I said softly. 
 
 He straightened up with a terrified hissing intake 
 of the breath. I turned the flashlight on myself to 
 save lengthy explanations. 
 
 "Youl" he said after a moment, in a low bitter 
 tone. "God 1 must you dog me here I" 
 "I am your friend," I said. 
 He laughed. "Friend I" he said. "That's good !" 
 Then his tone changed. "You'd better be on your 
 way," he said threateningly. "I'm in no mood for 
 fooling." 
 
 "I've been trying to overtake you since noon," I 
 said, merely to be saying something. An instinct 
 told me there was nothing like a little conversation to 
 let down a desperate man. 
 
"3 
 
 "What 
 
 She's 
 I won't 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "Why, in God's name?" he demanded. 
 
 good am I to you now?" 
 
 "I no longer believe you guilty." 
 "I don't give a damn what you believe." 
 "I want you to help me find the thief." 
 "It's nothing to me who took the pearls, 
 
 got 'em back again. You'd better go on. 
 
 stand for any interference." 
 
 "You won't do it now," I said confidently. 
 "Won't II" ' 
 
 He made a move to uncork the little vial. I 
 struck his wrist and it feU to the ground. We 
 i.carched for it frantically in the dark. I had the 
 light, and I saw it first. I put my heel on it, and 
 ground the fragile, deadly thing into the planks of 
 the bridge floor. He cursed me. 
 
 ^"There is still the water," I said. 
 
 "I'm a swimmer," he said sullenly. "I couldn't 
 go down. I meant to climb on ihe rail and take the 
 stuff, so It would look like drowning. But there 
 are plenty of ways." 
 
 "Be a man and liver I said. 
 
 He laughed again. "There's nothing in that cant 
 for a man who's sick of the game." 
 
 "Live for her sake," I hazarded. "She loves 
 you. 
 
 "You've mistaken your job, old man," he said 
 with gnm amusement. "You ought to be a play, 
 wnght. Write her a play. She's a great actress. 
 Yah I Im sick of itl Lovel There's no such 
 thing. Not in women! This is real, anyhow " 
 
H4 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 i had got him talking. Something told me the 
 crisis was past. I took a new tack. 
 
 "She certainly has treated you badly," I said. "I 
 don't wonder you're sore. I know just how you 
 feel." 
 
 He turned on me with clenched fist and a furious 
 command to be silent. "It's no damned policeman's 
 business what I feell" 
 
 "Revenge is sweet," I murmured. 
 
 It brought him up all standing. In the dirk I 
 heard falin breathing quickly. 
 
 "Do you want to crawl away like a cur and dif 'n 
 a hole?" I ask^d. 
 
 "Why in Hell can't you let me alone?" he said 
 fretfully. "What do you want to drag me back 
 for?" 
 
 I saw I had him going now. "Make her suffer," 
 I urged. "The most perfect revenge in the world 
 IS yours if you want it, because she loves you." 
 
 "What are you getting at?" 
 
 "Prove your innocence to her." 
 
 "I doubt if I could," he said weakly. "I shouldn't 
 know how to begin. I seem to be caught in a net." 
 
 "I am offering to help you." 
 
 ''What's your game?" he demanded suspiciously. 
 
 "I've made a serious mistake," I said. "I've got 
 my professional reputation to think of. Besides, 
 I'm orJy human. I don't want to have your un^ 
 timely ?nd on my conscience." 
 
 'It needn't bt. I'm my own master." 
 I decided to risk all on one throw. I laid a hand 
 
Thieves' Wit 115 
 
 "You'an^r"'^"- "^°^ ^"'" ' «id frankly, 
 rou and I are not strangers. We took to each 
 other from the first, though I happened to be wear^ 
 "Jg a d.sgu.se. I have suffered like the devil all day 
 
 fnend. Friendship isn't ,uch a common thing in 
 spue of all the talk about it. I should think yfu'd 
 " •■Sv U.'f ^'"^ ^'•'" •**» °ff"'d to you" 
 frie„d,h-' '•' «T"^^- "^ d""'* I'^licve in 
 
 friendship I never had a real friend." But he 
 didn t shake my hand off, 
 
 "Try me." 
 
 "Oh well, you've spoiled it for to-night, anyway 
 ni hs en to ^at you've got to say. Vherrcan 
 
 plaZ""' " '"''''" ^ "''* ^°y'""y- "I'« «nd a 
 
12 
 
 WE proceeded on across the bridge into the 
 town of Annapolis. First I took Roland to 
 a lunch room and commanded 'lim to eat. I had a 
 time getting him to swallow the first mouthful, but 
 that once down, he developed a ravenous appetite. 
 I suppose he had not eaten in thirty hours. It was 
 comical to tee how, with a stomachful of hot food 
 inside him, a zest in living renewed itself. The 
 more his resolution weakened, the louder he in- 
 veighed against life. But he had a sense of hu- 
 mour. He suddenly became conscious of the ab- 
 surdity of his attitude, and we laughed together. 
 From that moment he was safe, and he was mine. 
 There is nothing to cement a friendship like laugh- 
 ter. 
 
 Afterwards I got a room in an obscure hotel. 
 Roland sat down on the edge of the bed, and pro- 
 ceeded to give me his version of the matters that 
 perplexed me so. In the middle o' a sentence he 
 fell over and slept like a dead man. I stole out 
 and telegraphed Sadie at Amityville that I had him 
 safe and sound. Returning, I sat by the hour 
 watching him. My heart was soft for the human 
 creature I had snatched from the brink. He looked 
 very boyish and appealing as he lay sleeping. He 
 seemed years younger than I. I cannot tell you how 
 
 116 
 
Thieves' Wit 117 
 
 glad I was to think that there was warmth in the 
 young body, and sentience under the shut lids. 
 
 Shortly after midnight he awoke as suddenly and 
 thoroughly as ha had fallen asleep. Then he wanted 
 to talk. He \ is bursting with talk. I swallowed 
 my yawns and set myself to listen. I let him talk 
 in his own way, no questions. For a long time I 
 listened to what I already knew, the tale of his jeal- 
 ous, hopeless passion for Irma. Sometimes he had 
 suspected that she inclined towards him, but it 
 seemed preposterous to ask her to give up her pro- 
 fession for him. On the other hand he knew he 
 could not endure sharing his wife with the public. 
 He had decided to go away without speaking— and 
 then the miraculous legacy had dropped from the 
 skies. 
 
 "Tell me all about that," I commanded. 
 
 •'I promised not to tell," he said reluctantly. 
 
 "This is a matter of life and death. Why was 
 a promise exacted?" 
 
 "To avoid publicity." 
 
 "There wiU be none," I said. "T pledge myself 
 to guard the secret as well as you could." 
 
 "I destroyed the letter I got, with the others," 
 he said. "But I read it so often I can give it to you 
 almost word for word." 
 
 "Too bad it was destroyed I" I said. 
 
 "CMi, you can verify the contents by the Amster- 
 ^*^ Trust Company who paid me the money." 
 
 "But if you have a clear case what did you run 
 Jbr ?" I jiskfd ^mvcd- 
 
ii8 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 You will never understand," he said with a wry 
 smile. "I seemed to die at that moment when I saw 
 that Irma believed I was capable of robbing her. 
 What did I care about my case?" 
 
 Hearing that, my opinion of Sadie's perspicacity 
 went up marvcUously. "Go on," I said. 
 
 I took down the letter from his dictation. It was 
 written, he said, on expensive note-paper, without 
 address, crest or seal, in a large and somewhat old- 
 fashioned feminine hand. 
 
 "Dear Mr. Quarles: 
 
 Although you <iave never heard of me I think of 
 you as my dearest friend. I have followed your ca- 
 reer from the time of your first appearance on the 
 stage. X am one of those unfortunates who, con- 
 demned to live, arc cut off from life. I watch life 
 pass trom behind my iron screen. U is you who, all 
 unconscious, have supplied me with a dream to cheat 
 my emptiness. I have warmed my cold hands at 
 
 "Now they tell me my release is at hand. I wish 
 to show my gratitude to you in the only way that is 
 possible to me. An artist's career is difficult and un- 
 certain. I want to remove a little of the uncertainty 
 
 "I must avoid giving rise to silly gossip which 
 would grieve my relatives. To avoid the publicity 
 ot probate I am making secret arrangements before- 
 nand. An old friend will carry out my wishes for 
 me when I am gone. 
 
 J "Pt-'^?'^*°" ^.Y^ "*« * week longer. Upon my 
 death this letter will be mailed to you. You will then 
 Hear from the Amsterdam Trust Company that a 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 119 
 
 sum of money awaits your order. You will never 
 know my „,„e. But i/you .hould let cvcnLbl" 
 facts become known, some busybody would eventu- 
 ri/^r T? ''T ""^^ ry """'• ""d unhapSy gSsip 
 
 ke.n fh/t? ^*" ^ "H y°." ?» » "»»" Of Vonour to 
 keep the whole transaction locked in your breast." 
 
 'It was signed: 
 
 "That is all," said Roland. 
 'Your grateful friend.' " 
 
 "Did you look in the recent obituaries for a clue ?" 
 1 asked. 
 
 "Yes," he confessed. "There was, ..one." 
 
 I y°t "*'",'' ^'^^ y°"' '^'"■y- We'll return to the 
 letter later." 
 
 "At first I thought it was a hoax," he resumed, 
 but sure enough, in two or three days I received a 
 letter from the Trust Company asking me to call. 
 I saw the President. He said that the sum of forty 
 thousand dollars had been deposited with them to 
 be turned over to me in cash. He said it had been 
 bequeathed to me by one who desired to remain un- 
 known. He said he did not know himself who my 
 benefactor was. He had dealt with a lawyer. He 
 said that there was but one condition attached to the 
 legacy, namely that I give my word never to speak 
 e the matter. I had met this Mr. Ambler the 
 president, and he had seen me act, so there was no 
 dlfficuI^/ about identifying me. I left his ofBce car- 
 rying the money, and carried it to my own bank to 
 deposit. That is all there is to that." 
 
 "Good!" I said. "The Amsterdam Trust Com- 
 pany is a solid institution, and the president a well- 
 
120 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 They will itill be there if we need 
 
 known man. 
 them." 
 
 "It muitn't get in the newipaperc," he uid nerv- 
 ouily. 
 
 "Truit me for that. I'm not going to make you 
 break your word. Now about the bet you made with 
 Mfit Hamerton." 
 
 He winced at the lound of her name. "There's 
 no more in that than appears on the surface," he 
 said irritably. "I couldn't have told the paste from 
 the genuine. I wanted to give her a box of gloves. 
 But she never claimed them, and I forgot about it." 
 
 "The cryptogram you have already explained," 
 said I. ' 
 
 "I did not know there was such a paper in mv 
 pocket." 
 
 "Hold on," he cried suddenly, "about that bet. 
 I have just remembered that I once had a talk about 
 precious stones, pearls, with a man in the company." 
 "Milboume?" 
 
 '"Sure! How did you know?" 
 *'I believe he took them. But it's going to be a 
 ^b to prove it." 
 
 "It was just fL trifling conversation," Roland re- 
 sumed, thinking hard. "I can't remember exactly. 
 He marked <he beauty and oddity of Ir — of Miss 
 H8merton's;riecklace. I think he said he hoped that 
 s^^ did not Ask wearing real pearls on the stage.. 
 That may have been to find out if I knew they were 
 artificial. 1 told him she did not wear the real ones. 
 There w^j mpre talk, Hje .seemed tp Joiow abont 
 
Thieves' Wit lai 
 
 pearli, ,„d I believe I „ked him how to teU the 
 ml from the .rtifidal. I never thought of it then, 
 but looking back I .ee that it may have been that 
 talk which gave me the idea of making . bet with 
 ir-^ithher. Oh, I have been a fool I" 
 , Thii 1. all intereiting," I ,aid, "but it doein't 
 
 thing. How did the real pearli get in your .afe?" 
 
 Roland .truck hi. forehead. "I have been every- 
 body', dupe I" he groaned. 
 
 "It'« a part we all have to play occajionally," I 
 said .oothingly. "Go ahead." 
 
 "About thi. time I began to get circular letter* 
 trom a firm of jcweUer. called Jone. and Sanford 
 with an addre*. on Maiden Lane, where all the 
 jeweller. u.ed to be. They were faciraile letter., 
 very well written." 
 
 "The kind that are made to look like penonal let- 
 ters, but like false teeth, deceive nobody?" 
 
 ,1i7?k""^ L^^^^n^^eryfewday.. They were 
 all to the effect that the writer, a. brokers, were pre- 
 pared to sell precious .tone, at price, much under 
 those a.ked by the big jewellers. There was a lot 
 of rigmarole about saving on overhead charge., in- 
 terest on valuable stocks and so on, about what you 
 would expect in such letter.. There were a lot of 
 impo.ing.looking reference., too." 
 
 "At fir.t I paid no attention to the letters; pre- 
 aou. stones didn't interest me. But when I got all 
 that money I began to read them. You see I— I 
 wanted to make Irma a present, and I knew she 
 
122 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 loved pearls better than anything eUe in the world." 
 I let a whittle of attoniihment out 'i me. "Do 
 you mean to aay you bought Mitt Hamerton't pearii 
 with the idea of preter ing her with them, to add 
 to her collection?" 
 
 He nodded thamefacedly. "I didn't know the 
 had been robbed." 
 
 "How long had you had them/" 
 
 "Jutt a few dayt." 
 
 He told me that he had ailced Mitt Hamerton to 
 marry him, and intended the necklace for a wed- 
 ding-gift if the contented. 
 
 "You were a downy bird I" I exclaimed. 
 
 "Wait tiU I tcU you," he taid. "They were a ilick 
 pair. You might have been taken in yourtelf." 
 
 "Did they know you?" I atked, ttiU full of amaze- 
 ment. 
 
 "Certainly. I paid for them by check, certified 
 check." 
 
 "Which they cathed within half an hour I" 
 
 "Maybe. I never enquired." 
 
 "Sold Mitt Hamerton't pearlt back to Mitt Ham- 
 erton't leading man I" I cried. "My boy, we have 
 tomething out of the ommon in crooks to deal 
 with I" 
 
 "They had a well-furnished tuite on an upper floor 
 of a first-class office building," he resumed. "I was 
 there three or four times. I saw other customers 
 coming and going. Everyriiing was business-like 
 and all right looking. Even the stenographer had 
 a prim New England air. They showed me all 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 M3 
 
 kind, of precoui .tonei. I bit .t the pearl. beciu.e 
 I recognued rh.t they were the „me kind Irm. h.A 
 They „ked eight thousand dollan for them " 
 
 „,riT°" '"• *"?"'* 5'°"' *•"' ^'" Hamerton'. 
 necklace wai worth much more than that?" 
 
 Yei. But I had been told her. were very fine 
 and perfect. I .uppo.ed the.e to be not «, gLd " 
 
 tookll'hZe?"" ''"' """'^ °" • ^'"'•"' •"'' 
 "Not quite a. fa.t a. that. The jeweUer. .eemed 
 to take It a. a matter of cour.e that I would have the 
 pearl, exammed by an expert before purcha.ing. 
 They ,ugge,ted that I take them up to Dun.any',." 
 Dunsany'sl" I .aid amazed. 
 
 n.,3r. ^""'* *•!" '"""«'' '° '"" "'»Pi"on? 
 Dunsany, „ more than a jewelry ,tore; it', a na- 
 tional institution." 
 
 I'But you never took them there?" 
 
 "Indeed I did," was the surprising answer. "San- 
 ford and Jones' clerk went with me. We saw Mr. 
 i-reer, the firm's expert on pearls." 
 
 I whistled again. Freer, the man at Dunsany's 
 to whom I had told my little fiction of the fiction- 
 writer and who had looked so queer when I men- 
 tioned blue pearls t 
 
 "Large gentleman, elegantlynlressed, with a face 
 like a boiled dumpling?" 
 
 •'Sure I" cried Roland. "Do you know h' t , too ?" 
 Oo on with your story I" I said. 
 "Mr. Freer examined the pearls and told me they 
 
124 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 II :' 
 
 were genuine, and of good quality. He valued them 
 at about twelve thousand dollars." 
 
 "The devil he did I" I cried. "This case is spread- 
 ing w.der and wider. Freer is in the gpng, too. To 
 think of their havmg a picket in Dunsany'sl" 
 How do you know?" 
 "Because he like everybody else in the trade had 
 been informed that the only necklace of blue-black 
 pearls in the world had been stolen. He knew 
 
 moreover, that it was worth " But here pru' 
 
 dence stopped my tongue. 
 "Worth what?" asked Roland. 
 .3'"' """^'' "O'e than twelve thousand." 
 zled '''"' ^^"^^ '" **"' ^°'^^^" ^^ "''^' P»2- 
 
 "There's a lot about this necklace you don't 
 know," I said smiling. "All in good time Goon 
 with your story." 
 
 "Well, that's aU, isn't it?" said he. "At least 
 you faiow the rest. Why these fellows were so care- 
 
 it;^ fif • ^°\'''" '^"^ ^"^ *''"'• ™P""t in gold 
 inside the case Jones and Sanford, such and such 
 a number, Maiden Lane." 
 
 m,S' / '"uT ' ''"' °" "y '»'""J» now'" I "id 
 
 "I'll work with you," he said. 
 
 1 1^^ ^'t ''"°r.' ' '*•= y°" '''«<=' «^«nr minute," 
 I «id, smilmg at him. "But you'd make the worst 
 detective m the world." 
 "Oh, well, maybe I would," he said. 
 
Thieves' Wit 125 
 
 in hand to dear yo„ I^ I, ?k ''Z '^'''"" "K^^* 
 up wfth"hTd'l"' "'""■"'! "" »«»- He leaped 
 "Thae affJr i. dt.t'n f '/evT;' r'°""^'^- 
 
 c»i mieves in the pubhc newspapers I" 
 
13 
 
 BACK in New York next day, I made haste to 
 get to work on the half dozen clues with which 
 Roland had furnished me. 
 
 I may say in passing, though the visit had no im- 
 portant results, that I called on Mr. Ambler of the 
 Amsterdam Trust Company. At first he declined 
 to pve me any information whatever, but when I 
 hinted that a certain suspicion rested on Mr. Quarles, 
 he corroborated Roland's story as far as he knew it. 
 He declined to give me the name of the attorney 
 who had brought the money to the bank. "My en- 
 dorsement of Mr. Quarles' story should be amply 
 sufficient to clear him," he said, with the air of a 
 bank president. 
 
 "Undoubtedly," I said, bowing, and left. 
 
 Since there appeared to be no immediate connec- 
 tion between Roland's legacy and the theft of the 
 pearls, I let that go for the present. 
 
 I went to the address of the jewellers on Maiden 
 Lane, but found, as I expected, that the birds had 
 flown. An irate renting agent aired his opinion of 
 Messrs. Sanford and Jones, but could give me no 
 information of their whereabouts. They had 
 leased the offices for a year, and after five weeks' 
 tenancy, quietly moved out. 
 
Thieves' Wit 127 
 
 "Don't you ask references from prospective ten- 
 ants? I asked. 
 
 "They gave Ai references," he mourned. 
 I took down the names of their references for 
 future use. One of them was Mr. Freer of Dun- 
 sany and Company. 
 
 My next call was upon Mr. Alfred Mount in his 
 office behmd the store of exquisite fashion. His 
 greetmg, while polite, was slightly cooler than of 
 yore. As a man of the world, I was expected to 
 gadier from it, that our relations were now at an 
 end. It warned me to be wary. I was already on 
 my pard because I knew that he hated Roland, 
 and hoped to profit by his disgrace. 
 
 "Anything new?" he'asked rasually. 
 
 "Yes— and no," I said. "I am not satisfied that 
 ^^..rf ^^ 8°^ qu'te to the bottom of our case." 
 
 'Do we ever get quite to the bottom of anything ?" 
 he asked. * 
 
 "I do not believe that Quarles was alone in this," 
 1 said as a feeler. 
 
 "What makes you think so?" he ask(;d quicklv. 
 
 "Nothing definite," I said. "Just a feeling." 
 
 He shrugged. 
 
 "I believe that expert jewel thieves made a tool 
 of hun," I suggested. 
 
 "It is possible," said Mount, looking bored. 
 If so, It is much to the interest of your business 
 to run them down. So I have come to ask for your 
 co-operation." 
 "My dear sir," Mount replied with his mdulgent. 
 
128 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 worldly smile, "the world is full of trouble. I do 
 not try to escape my share; I face it like a man, or 
 as near like a man as I can. But I never go search- 
 ing for more. We have by vour skill recovered the 
 jewels. The reasons for not pursuing the matter any 
 further are to me obvious. Better let well enoueh 
 alone." * 
 
 I appeared to give in to him. "Maybe you're 
 right. I thought I saw a chance to earn a little 
 glory." 
 
 "There will be plenty of opportunities for that," 
 he said affably. "You can count on me." 
 
 We parted, in friendly fashion. 
 
 So much for Mr. Alfred Mount. At least he 
 would never be able to say later that I had not given 
 him his chance. 
 
 I went to the magnificent marble building which 
 houses Dunsany and Company, and asked boldly for 
 Mr. Walter Dunsany, great-grandson of the founder 
 of the house, and its present head. I was admitted 
 to him without difficulty. I found him a jeweller 
 and a man of affairs of a type very different from 
 him I had just come from. Mr. Dunsany was a 
 simple, unassuming man, direct and outspoken. In 
 short, a man's man. I was strongly attracted to 
 him, and I may say without vanity that he seemed 
 to like me. From the first he trusted me more than 
 I had any right to expect. 
 
 At this time he was a man of about forty-fiv years 
 old, somewhat bald, and beginning to be corpulent, 
 but with a humorous, eager, youthful glance. He 
 
Thieves' Wit 129 
 
 glanced up from my card with a whimsical smile. 
 ^^Confidential mvestigator? More trouble, I sup- 
 
 named Freer, an expert on pearls." 
 "I had until a few days ago." 
 Ai, exclamation of disappointment escaped me. 
 What s the matter with Freer?" he asked 
 1 suppose you don't know where he is?" 
 On his way back to Holland, I suppose. He came 
 rrom there ten years ago. Why?" 
 
 "One more question first. I am assuming that 
 you know that a certann famous necklace of blue 
 pearls has been stolen?" 
 
 "Mount's pearls? Certainly. Everybody in the 
 trade was advised. 
 
 "You are sure Freer knew?" 
 ^'Certainly. It was h's business first." 
 _ Yet a week or so ago, that necklace was brought 
 into your store by a man who was considering the 
 purchase of it. He submitted it to Freer. Freer 
 pronounced the stones genuine, and said that the 
 necklace was worth about twelve thousand " 
 
 Mr. Dunsany jumped up and paced the room 
 agitatedly. "Freerl" he exclaimed. "Impossible! 
 lou are sure of your facts I" 
 
 I described the operations of Messrs. Sanford 
 and Jones. 
 
 ^ "Not impossible, I suppose," he said more quietly 
 
 Ihis sort of thing has happened to me before. I 
 
 doubt if there was ever a time when I was not har- 
 
130 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 boring some thief or another. They never steal 
 from me, you understand. They are the pickets, 
 the outposts, who watch where the jewels go, and 
 report to Headquarters. But Freer! He had been 
 with me ten years. He had an instinct for pearls I" 
 "Headquarters?" I said eagerly. "Then you 
 agree with me that there is an organised gang at 
 work?" 
 
 "That's no secret," he said. "Every jeweller 
 knows that there is a kind of corporation of jewel 
 thieves. It is probably ten years old, and better 
 organised and administered than our own associa- 
 tion." 
 
 "Why don't you break it up?" 
 
 "Break it up I" he echoed. "It is my dearest am- 
 bition 1 There has never been a meeting of our as- 
 sociation but what I have urged with all my elo- 
 quence that we get together and break up the thief 
 trust. They will not support me. Everybody sus- 
 pects that he has spies in his establishment, perhaps 
 like Freer in a responsible position. The crooks 
 seem to have us where they want us. They have 
 never robbed us, you see. There is a sort of un- 
 written agreement, you leave us alone and we'll leave 
 you. The other men in the association say: 'If 
 our customers are careless with their jewels, we are 
 not responsible." But I say we are I These crooks 
 have put us in a position where, if we do not go 
 after them, we may be said to be in league with 
 them." 
 
Thieves' Wit 131 
 
 "Mr Mount is a member of the association, I 
 suppose r 
 
 "Mount? Oh yes, he's the president. To give 
 Mount credit I must say that he has always suoported 
 m^ m this matter, though not so warmly as 1 would 
 haveliked. But I am considered a fanatic." 
 
 Why don't you and he do it together?" I asked. 
 
 Asso^ttr- '° '"'° " "''°"* *'' '""^"^ °^ »'>» 
 
 "Why don't you go it alone?" I said. "You 
 are powerful." 
 
 He glanced at me sharply. "I will when I see 
 my way, he said. "Such police officers and de- 
 tectives as have happened to come under my ob- 
 
 It7-T w? "°^"""«d »° '"<= the right men for 
 the job. When I find my man " 
 
 inh'^f ^°Y°"'t' '"*' " "" W''""' for the 
 job ? I asked quietly. 
 
 He studied me hard. "I should be difficult to 
 satisfy," he said. 
 
 "First of all as to references," I said. There 
 were some good men who backed me. I gave him 
 their names. 
 
 ''How about Mount?" he asked. 
 
 "I have already applied to him for the job." I 
 said frankly, "and was turned down. He is satis- 
 fied with the recovery of the pearls. As long as he 
 has refused to go in, I think it would be better not 
 to let him know about our plans. That, however, 
 IS up to you. 
 
132 
 
 Thieves* Wit 
 
 "I shall not let him know," Mr. Dunsany said 
 briefly. 
 
 To make a long story short, I succeeded in satis- 
 fying Mr. Dunsany of my fitness to undertake the 
 matter in hand. We concluded a defensive and of- 
 fensive alliance. He let me understand that expense 
 was to be no object. I saw him every day. We met 
 at his club, which was as safe a place as we could 
 find. 
 
 I gave him my full confidence, of course. With 
 Roland's consent I told him everything that had oc- 
 curred up to that time. Mr. Dunsany for his part 
 had a whole file of evidence that he had quietly 
 collected. He turned it over to me. It was inter- 
 esting, and in the end valuable, but it had nothing 
 to do with the case of the blue pearls. 
 
 We laid our plans with infinite care. There was 
 no hurry now, and every move was planned in ad- 
 vance. Absolute secrecy was imperative. Mr. 
 Dunsany and I agreed not to take a soul on earth 
 into our confidence. 
 
 It was necessary to hire a small army of opera- 
 tives. I did not figure in this. I had Peter 
 Keenan, an old friend of mine, who was not known 
 generally among my friends, act for me. Peter was 
 a faithful, conscientious soul, not at all brilliant. He 
 hired a suite of offices on Forty-second street and 
 set up the "International Detective Agency." Peter 
 was the nominal head, and Sadie the real directress 
 of this establishment. Here the operatives were 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 133 
 
 hired and sent on their errands. Each did his lit- 
 tle task knowing nothing of the general plan. 
 
 Meanwhile Mr. B. Enderby was to be found all 
 day in his office on Fortieth street with his feet on 
 the desk, chinning with his young friends or com- 
 posing a new play. You see the second cryptogram 
 led me to suspect that they were aware of my iden- 
 tity, and in case I were watched, as I surely would 
 be, I desired to give the impression that I had 
 dropped all activities in connection with jewels or 
 jewel thieves. I communicated with Sadie by let- 
 ter. Uncle Sam is at once the mo-,; public and the 
 safest messenger. For emergencies we arranged a 
 system of telephone calls. 
 
 It would be a tedious task to set down all the rou- 
 tme work of the agency. There were mistakes, dis- 
 appomtments and blind trails without number. To 
 begin with, Sadie was ordered to trace Freer, the 
 pearl agent, also Sanford and Jones, the bogus jew- 
 ellers, and any of their employees. All this entailed 
 great kbour, and it was absolutely barren of re- 
 suit. These people seemed to have vanished into 
 thm air. In the case of Kenton Milbourne she was 
 more successful. She wrote: 
 
 "In my character of Miss Covington the actress, 
 I called on several of the women of Miss Hamer- 
 ton's company who gave me their addresses when 
 we disbanded. From their gossip I learned with- 
 out having to ask questions, that Kenton Milbourne 
 has not disappeared. They have all met him on 
 Broadway. He is apparently living the ordinary 
 
134 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 life of an actor out of a job, going around to the 
 different agencies to list hi* name, etc Hi» addreu 
 II No. — Weit 49th itreet. 
 
 xj.! '*"'' ■"°"««* *'>'"« °f ou' •»«»« men to keep 
 Milbourne under lurveillance. The first, D. B., 
 who hai been an actor, is working independently 
 of the other two. He has engaged a room in the 
 same house and will make friends with M. The 
 other two operatives, A. N. and S. C, are to trail 
 him turn and turn about." 
 
 Thus the ground was laid out. Making my re- 
 port in turn to Mr. Dunsany, I said: "It's all very 
 well as far as it goes, but we must do some original 
 work. Tracking the theft of Miss Hamerton's 
 pearls ir. fillowing a cold trail. Our work is de- 
 stroyed by the fact that the jewels have been recov 
 ered. We must branch out." 
 "What do you propose?" said he. 
 "Let us lay a tempting bait for a new robbery, 
 and catch them red-handed." 
 "Go ahead I" 
 
 "Arc you prepared to risk something choice in 
 diamonds or pearls?" 
 
 "Anything I have in stock." 
 
 "Very well. First, however, we've got to get a 
 man accepted into the inmost circle of the thief 
 trust." 
 
generally conspicuous for the« qudWeT anrwhT 
 they are rich into the bargain-Jhv t^K, " 
 
 what d,eyVe got is usuallf L; hthe.t ,T„f %'? 
 Mr Dunsany insisted on playing Sfole^f ^ 
 ger in our projected drama H. 1 i ^ '^""^ 
 
 135 
 
136 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 in due coune at the foot of Manhattan Island, he 
 gazed at the towering buildings with a wondering 
 eye, and allowed himself to be guided to an hun.'^le 
 hotel in the neighbourhood. 
 
 I wai not there to meet him for a very good rea- 
 son, but later in the day I received a note appris- 
 ing me of his arrival. Two days later I had an- 
 other telling me that having presented letters of 
 recommendation, he had been engaged in the gem- 
 setting shops of Dunsany and Co. I cannot do bet- 
 ter than quote from his own reports. Far from 
 being the usual cut and dried affairs, they were little 
 human documents of humorous observation. 
 
 Report of J. M. # a 
 
 Wednesday, June jrrf. 
 The morning after I landed, according to our 
 program, I went to Dunsany's to apply for a job. 
 I wonder if any merchant before me ever had the 
 experience of besieging the doors of his own shop in 
 a like humble capacity. Probably not. I enjoyed 
 the experience. As soon as I opened the door I 
 began to learn things about my own place. I always 
 thought that my democratic ideas encouraged my em- 
 ployees to treat me exactly like one of themselves, 
 but I found that they did not — quite. Walking 
 through the aisles I perceived a new atmosphere, a 
 casualness, an indifference in the salesmen which 
 shocked me at first, then made me want to laugh. 
 The joke was on me I 
 
Thieves' Wit 137 
 
 My letter of recommendation, which I had writ- 
 ten myself naturally, gained me the entree to the 
 prcent head of the firm. i.e.. my ,on Edward I 
 approached hi, office with .ome nervousneT Here 
 would be the first grand te,t of my di.gui.e Would 
 ieVa?/r^'" ''' ^''^"^ A"^ 'f h^ did. would 
 AnJ if V^!" "°' '° r' ""' »''"y '''^°« other. ? 
 
 t^ct n i :i"°'' ''°."''' ^ •" ""« to keep my own 
 face m the ludicrous aituation? 
 
 I should say that in the matter of disguise I have 
 
 followed your instructions carefully. The wi^ or 
 
 toupee or transformation with which you furnifhed 
 
 njc. complete y change, my appearance. W 
 
 a. you showed me how to do. I am letting my own 
 ha.r grow beneath and will .oon be able to UaT^ 
 off the false, wh.ch will be a relief as it 1, both To! 
 and .ticky. I„ addition it occurred to me to leave 
 aside certam dental work which co.t me a lollf 
 
 My clothe. I bought ready-made in a London 
 emponum. Need I say more? The hat i, a won- 
 der a sort of decrepit music-master affair of black 
 sJn M T '" ""/°"''J«='"y tWrd or fourth hand-!^r 
 
 l:^lLs:^:r'''''' ^-^-toha^ri; 
 
 Eddie did not recognise me. He favoured me 
 
 a little, but thi. was only natural caution in engag- 
 mg an unknown man. In our business we havfto 
 
138 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 be careful. I was well-pleased with Eddie's man- 
 ner, succinct and business-like without a trace of arro- 
 gance. Much better than my own manner, I dare say. 
 
 Eddie was plainly annoyed by the situation, nor 
 could I blame him. It was, of course, very irregu* 
 lar. In effect we were breaking the alien labour law, 
 beside opening up the prospect of labour troubles 
 in our own shop. I knew exactly what was passing 
 m the boy's mind, and I was longing to reassure him. 
 Instead I had to make believe to be slightly over- 
 awed in the presence of my little boy I 
 
 He had no choicp in the matter, because I had vir- 
 tually instructed him to employ this Mattingly. In 
 addition to the letter of recommendation I had writ- 
 ten him from London saying that I was sending such 
 a man, an experienced jewel-setter, I had said, and 
 had described Mattingly's appearance, so that he had 
 no need to ask me to identify myself. 
 
 Finally after asking a number of questions, to all 
 of which I had the answers pat, Eddie engaged me. 
 I followed him to an upper floor, hard put to it to 
 keep from grinning at the idea of my boy showing 
 me the way around the place. Fortunately the spec- 
 tacles I wear help me to preserve an owl-like gravity. 
 
 He took me to Ashley, the foreman of the gem- 
 setting department. Ashley has been with us forty 
 years. He is a surly, lovable old crab. It was un- 
 der Ashley that I got my training in handicraft 
 twenty-five years ago. Ashley regarded me with 
 no favourable eye, but bowed to the mandate of the 
 head of the firm, of course. He gave me a boy's 
 
Thieves' Wit 139 
 
 woric cleaning old settings, and kept a shan, watch 
 
 t^a? Im'* "^*i"" «°"^ '^^^ ™""^" be Je I found 
 Uo^fm ne-r spoken .// of hi, mind to me 
 
 tot" t •:• son" m"ot'? '^.^ '''" ^^-"P-^' 
 as a meek al^en" J u '"'"'^'^' ""qucrading 
 
 benefit of it ''°''™'"' "'"^ ""'-'^ the fuU 
 
 ««. >■« I fed . .^- J.'tSd >h™ ^"'ir''- 
 
 rJn.!.*! V t . '° '""^e that his crazy ideas ar- 
 
140 
 
 Thieves' Wj> 
 
 generally comes off second best in their verbal en- 
 counters. 
 
 During one of their arguments the first day, I was 
 much amused, and a little alarmed, when the talk 
 turned on me. 
 
 "You with your socialist talk I" cried Ashley to 
 Mullen scornfully. "A man would think every boss 
 was a homed devil! There's our old man now, 
 what's the matter widi him?" 
 
 "I don't know him," said Mullen with a leer. 
 "We ain't on visiting terms." 
 
 "He talks to 'us, simple and friendly, just like 
 one of ourselves," said Ashley. 
 
 "Sure I" cried Mullen. "It don't cost him nothin' 1 
 I ain't seen him give up nothin' but talk, though. 
 That's what he keeps you quiet with, a little soft talk 
 like strokin' the dogl" 
 
 "He don't set up to be no more than a man like 
 myself I" said my defender. 
 
 "Sure, and he is no more I" cried the other. "I've 
 got as good an appetite for my meals as him, and my 
 kids is as strong and handsome as his. But there 
 he is sailing across the ocean in a soot de luxe, and 
 here am I sweating at his bench." 
 
 "Well, what are you going to do about it?" asked 
 Ashley, whereat all the men on his side crowed. 
 
 "Do ?" cried Mullen. "I'm goin' to give him fair 
 value for his wages, that's what I'm goin' to do. But 
 I don't have to lick the hand that pats mel" 
 
 "A man can do what he likes with his own, I 
 guess," said Ashley. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 141 
 
 "hIT^v ^ °'"'J'l "" *' surprising answer. 
 He didn't earn ,t. did he? It was the suTplu, tha 
 
 "His grand-dad started as a workman like our- 
 "^ves •• sa.d Ashley. "Only he was the best woX 
 man, so he went ahead." 
 
 "I doubt that," said Mullen coolly. " 'Tain't the 
 
 GranIS 7''" *." '''' '*''"''• "^ *»'» ^ha^Jest 
 GrandKlad was sharp enough to get ahead of the 
 odier workman. AH right, . say. Let him en oy 
 wha he can get. But does that give his family he 
 nrht to run us to the end of time ?" 
 
 lev a'^^Sn* "llJT ^°'"^ '° ^° "'"'"* '*?" "''^d Ash- 
 \a u ^'* ""PPorters laughed. 
 
 Mullen turned to me unexpectedly. "What have 
 
 Zklo 7 tT>' ""'"'' Y- '""^ -hat they 
 Jour ideas » ^ ^"^ ""°'' '^' ""^" ^'^ "' 
 
 can'l ttjir '"'"' "^^ '"'"'" ^ "•'^ ^""y- "H°w 
 •'I don't mean him," said Mullen scornfully. 
 
 andVa;2S7 '"^ '^ '■"^' '"^"- ' '""" ^''^^ '""- 
 I shook my head. 
 
 h ."^V '^7, '""/ *'''^'" °^" tl'«-= m like they do 
 here, I see," said Mullen, turning away 
 
 thilThuf „'l^' *" ^" *'''* ^•'"'"^ '^'•^" !"««* °»t of 
 
 MTanil^l T""'" '" '°'"'"°" ^"'"^ I "">»* "«• 
 
 fj,;. h T J *T°'*' y°" "« wondering what all 
 
 this has to do with our case. Have patience with 
 
142 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 i I 
 
 li 
 M 
 
 mc. I am so absolutely alone in my new life, I must 
 have somebody to air my thoughts to. The eve- 
 nings are the hardest to put in. The club calls me 
 with a siren voice. Eddie's wife is away, too, and 
 I *hink of the boy dining alone. I wish we had 
 taken him into our confidence, but I suppose it was 
 wiser not to. 
 
 I have changed my boarding-place. Couldn't 
 stand the fare at Mrs. McMahon's. I am now at 
 a French place No. — West 29th street. It is 
 humble enoi|gh to suit my altered station in life, but 
 the cooking being French is not impossible. I have 
 mitigated my lot by buying a jug of excellent Bor- 
 deaux at Bardin's, which I have with my dinner 
 without exciting suspicion. I am aiming to get the 
 name of a "character" which will enable me to do 
 pretty much as I please. 
 
 The only break I have made so far was upon the 
 avenue yesterday. I was on my way home from 
 work and my wits were wool-gatuering. I was 
 dreaming, I suppose, of where I would like to go 
 for dinner. Along came Warner Macklin, an ele- 
 gant old dandy and a club acquaintance of mine. 
 Without thinking, I nodded to him as I would ordi- 
 narily. You should have seen his affronted stare. 
 The old snob 1 Anyhow it testifies to the efficacy of 
 my disguise. 
 
 If you would like to look me over I will be walk- 
 ing up and down in front of the dairy lunch on 
 Thirty-fourth street East of Sixth avenue at Twelve- 
 thirty to-morrow, Thursday, J. M. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 Report op J. M. #4 
 
 143 
 
 I am DremfJ uu T ''''•^ ^''" ^"""^n fellow I 
 1 am pretty well shaken into my job by now The 
 
 in the Vor ff "rhoorth °' ^'°"^ °' ""*'«'°" 
 
 exciting than this ahead' " "'"""'•'"« ™°« 
 
 I have neither seen nor heard anvfl,:„» 
 m any of my fellow^mployees T^ uT^'^r' 
 to swear thev are ,11 T'*''^"^ ^ '^"uW be willing 
 
 others too Sat rm„!i ''"T" ^'^' '°^^ ^e! 
 my felowiJeatreT 1 v""1^ *° '''"'"^ *^«= ''"» «^ 
 
 ToKiay^^r?;:; Vtti; hTuVfnr r'^- 
 
 account of vacations. I got a ste^J" '\' ,*^P °" 
 me at the bench where I Jl ^ ^^ '^'''''y P"* 
 settings on ortrJoT^S "tWsT"' '7" ^^^ 
 we need to carrv out o„ "? J • ' "'"'^'y ''^^ 
 
 thanhe.opeS«l?; t";;S r^I^;^^^^^^ 
 
 resulrtr "'" '''""' '""'^ *''"«= ^ P"« » «rst<lass 
 
 J. M. 
 
15 
 
 AT this stage I cannot better carry my story for- 
 ward than by continuing to quote from the re- 
 ports of different operatives. To me these arc fasci- 
 nating documents. Their sober matter-of-factness 
 is more thrilling than the most exciting yam. With 
 a wealth of seemingly irrelevant detail they build up 
 a picture more convincing than any except those of a 
 master of fiction. One has to be in the secret, of 
 course. The operatives themselves are not sup- 
 posed to know what it is all about, though they may 
 guess a little. But to be in the secret of a case and 
 to read the reports bearing on it from a hundred 
 angles, ^ves one a strange sense of power. 
 
 Report of D. B. 
 
 According to my instructions I applied for board 
 at number — West Forty-Nindi street, Mrs. 
 Atwood, landlady. I gave my name as Winston 
 Damall, and made out I was a character actor just 
 in from the road. I engaged the rear hall room top 
 floor. The place is an ordinary actor's house, con- 
 siderably run down. The landlady has only lately 
 bought the business from another woman, so it hasn't 
 M4 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 145 
 
 got the familiar friendly air of . long^stablished 
 place. 
 
 At the supper table I recognised my man Kenton 
 Milbournc from the description furnished. He's 
 an unusual looking man— unusually homely He 
 doesn't keep to himself at all, like a fellow with 
 something on his mind. He seems to be on good 
 enough terms with the other boarders, but they keep 
 out of his way because he's such a tiresome talker. 
 There s one or two old feV *8 that go around with 
 him. They sit in the parlour and talk by the hour 
 about what dandy actors they are. 
 
 Milbourne has the large front room on the third 
 floor. As luck would have it, the hall room adjoin- 
 ing was vacant, and there is only a thin board parti- 
 tion between, because the hall-room was originaUy 
 an alcove. But I judged this was too much of a 
 good thing. I was afraid of taking the hall room 
 for fear of putting M. wise. Maybe later, when 
 we re friends I can move. 
 
 tJ "?'"?..'". "'' "'•' *° P'* "P Milbourne. 
 Thought Id better wait awhile and give him a 
 chance to make up to me. Meanwhile I jollied the 
 landlady. She was a talker like all of them. Mil- 
 bourne, it seems, is her pet. She holds him up as a 
 model for the other boarders because he paid her 
 four weeks board in advance when her rent feU due. 
 This seems to indicate he means to stay a while. 
 
 AU the boarders look up to Milbourne with a 
 kind of respect because he's just closed his season 
 
146 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 with a first-claw company, while the reit are mostly 
 with repertoire companies, and cheap road shows. 
 
 The second night I was there, Milbourne braced 
 me m the parlour. Looking for a new listener, I 
 guess. He started in to tell me what a hit he made 
 with the I ma Hamerton production. If this man is 
 a crook he's the smoothest article I ever ran up 
 against. Because he isn't smooth at all. He talks 
 all the time about himself as simple as a child, but 
 at that he don't tell you much. He's got a dull eye 
 which don't seem to take in nothing, and he talks in 
 a slow, monotonous way and says a thing over and 
 over until you're doped. 
 
 A couple of nights later some of the younger 
 boarders were having a bit of a rough house in the 
 parlour and M. asked me up to his room where we 
 could talk in peace. His room was bare like. He 
 don't show any photographs or pictures or gim- 
 cracks. Seems he never even unpacks his trunk. It 
 was a big trunk even for an actor, and packed neat 
 and full as a honeycomb. Whenever he wants a 
 little thing he unlocks it, takes out what he's after, 
 and locks it again, even though he's right in the 
 room. The key is on a chain fastened to his waist- 
 band. 
 
 His talk was mostly about the Irma Hamerton 
 company. He told me what he says is the rights of 
 the story about her sickness, and the unexpected 
 closing in the middle of good business. She was in 
 love with her leading man, Roland Quarles, accord- 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 147 
 
 lb*ou?Qi,c.^*'"^ '^^ *°° '*' '°' "^ *° "y 
 
 I didn't take much itock in all this. It is the wav 
 
 a_poor actor likes to talk about one who rises above 
 
 said''th",l^"!''" l*"^ ^'" """"'"oni Milbourne 
 said that just a, she was going to marry him she 
 found out that he had a wife already. Without ex! 
 artly saymg so he let on that it was he, Milbourne. 
 who had put her wise to the young man. That' 
 the way they go on. She had hysterics, he said, and 
 broke up the show. As proof of his story, he said 
 that Quarles had disappeared and nobody knew 
 where he was, not even his old servant. 
 
 As I talk more with Milbourne I see that he isn't 
 so simple as he likes to make out. He has a way 
 of sandwiching m little questions in his dull talk, that 
 
 Inri'V/'"'' ''^"*'r "°»-<=«™ning i.; the 
 end. He didn't get anything on me though. My 
 
 rl7hT " •); ^t' '" •* y"- ^ ^'"^^ »" id« that 
 he has '""'"'"""y •""" experience acting than 
 
 Sometimes he lets slip a clever remark that don't 
 fit in with his character of a bonehead at all. For 
 instance, we were talking about the Chatfield case 
 that aU the papers are full of now, and Milbourne 
 Says I 
 
 •My optritive went into considerable detail here «• to Mil 
 bourne-, opinion of Rol.nd. Mo.t of it I h.„ d. eteA ^n^ t' ' 
 w.. no more thin me.ningle., .bu.e. 
 
 B. E. 
 
148 
 
 Thicvca' Wit 
 
 Put t police helmet on any man, and ri^t away 
 hit brain teems to take the shape of it. Cops think 
 at much alike at intectt. Let a crook once get on 
 to their way of thinking, and he can play with them 
 like a ball on a rubber ttring." 
 
 He let this out by accident. Afterwardt he looked 
 at me tharp to tee if I had taken anything amitt. I 
 never let on. 
 
 I have been in thit house a week now, and Mil- 
 bourne and I are supposed to be quite intimate 
 friends. Last night on my way up stairs I saw a 
 light under his door, so I knocked. His door is 
 always locked. He wasn't any too glad to see me, 
 but he couldn't very weU keep me out, because he 
 hadn't started to undress yet. He was having a 
 little supper: a bottle of a syrupy kind of wine and 
 biscuits with some blackish stuS he said was caviare. 
 I didn't take any. I marked the labels, and to^lay 
 I went into a swell store and inquired the prices. 
 The wine was Imperial Tokay. It is $2.50 the 
 small bottle. The caviare was $1.50 for a little 
 pot. I give this for what it's worth. Seems funny 
 if a man has a taste for such swell eats he should put 
 up at a joint like Mrs. Atwood's. 
 
 D.B. 
 
 Report of A. N. 
 
 Operative S.C. and I were instructed to trail a 
 certain K. Milboume, supposed to be an actor, and 
 report on his habits and his associates. We were 
 
Thieves' Wit jj^ 
 
 furnUhed with hi. de.cription, .„d «„t to w.tch 
 
 Doardi. Th,. houte ii . few doori from Eiirhth 
 Avenue. We Icept w.tch from oufide . c^„ 
 .aloon over the way. We turned up our coUan and 
 
 A?xoo;Vm ''^ "«"'»' ~-" loaf:?."""' 
 th I M^ A.M. our man came out and walked ud 
 
 •jeet. He turned down Broadway with the crowd 
 
 tjlT:A-^1 °''" ""PP''^ '■" '~"t of "ore win" 
 
 ^edinat .^orirdw^-jtUKS^ "j 
 
 eked up aj.d went after him Went up i„ the!am 
 
 eieyator. He gave everybody m the car . .K,«, 
 
 look. Got out at the ei^hth^Boor a„5 wentl^S 
 
 W- "•"'"'•• "^"- Mcndo„: SS 
 
 I went back down-stair, to wait. Thi, building 
 
 nth "trtr?. Z t't'Broir "J ^'^i 
 I watched the .ide .treet "^'''' ^°°'' ""** 
 
 door He walked around into Broadway, and S^C 
 
 T^t r "I '"'f "' '^''^ " down' a. lar „ 
 
 Sit """'"' """* '^" ^""'''J «™"nd and went 
 back to Forty-second. without leaving Broadway ^r 
 stopping anywhere. Turned We.t on ForJ..econd 
 and went mto the office of the D. and E^BoSt 
 agency m the -orre.t Theatre. Stayed twenty fivf 
 
150 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 minutes. Came out and went down Wett lide of 
 Broadway. At Thirty-ninth atreet met an actor 
 and stood with him twenty minutes talking loud, and 
 looking around them the way they do, to see if any- 
 body is noticing. The talk was all theatrical gossip 
 which I was instructed net to report. 
 
 Looked at his watch and went on down to the 
 36th-37th street block, where he walked up and 
 down about seven times, stopping at each end to 
 look in the same store window, and then coming 
 back. We watched from a music store where we 
 were making out td listen to the piano-player. 
 
 At 12 150 he met a man as if by surprise. They 
 greeted each other so loud everybody rubbered. 
 But it was all a stall. Right away they came down 
 to business and talked low and serious to each other. 
 My partner and I brushed against them, but we 
 couldn't hear much. Too much noise in the street. 
 I heard Milbourne say: "The grub is rotten I 
 
 More than flesh and blood " 
 
 His friend replied: "My dear fellow, it's worth it, 
 isn't it? Be reasonable. You're safe. We're all 
 
 safe " 
 
 The two of them turned North walking arm in 
 arm, still talking low. At the Forty-ninth street 
 comer they parted. Milbourne turned West, on 
 his way home presumably, and his friend continued 
 North. S. C. went with M. and I took after the 
 stranger. 
 
 He was a big fat man, but energetic. He looked 
 like a theatrical manager or a promoter. He wore 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 151 
 
 p.v.„„.,»<,, .. , .Vd .,.•■?*!;'- ^^ 
 
 way. it w,i a regular fat man's walk, the knee. 
 10. weight about 220: dark brown hair and eve. 
 
 the^*Iwl"^• •'"' ^' "°""^ °''" «"<! w«t down 
 
 the .ubway stair .pry a. a kid. Got on the Rnt 
 
 tram : I took a .eat in the adjoinine car AtZ „/ ! 
 
 .tation Columbu. Circle. LlXiy ^J^^^^ 
 
 and left the tram. But I wa. with him He .tayed 
 
 on the station platform. For a little while the 4o 
 
 loo" men X "•"" ^' ^^^ "^ • «-5 ^'"d 
 
 } :« in'Tel^ft^aTaUr "™^ "'°"^ '' *°°^ '*• 
 
 At Sevcnty-Second .treet he got out anin This 
 
 Zr! ofTh" ''k ''• ' ""^''^'^ ^''"" ''^Wnd the glas 
 doors of the .ubway .tation. I thought he wa. Jait 
 
 ?a.s^';rr t H 5"' 'I'''"'' ''^ -"^^ ' " "- 
 bufl did ""^ *° ''""P "^"'^ »° ««» on it. 
 
 For near an hour we rode around, hopping from 
 car to subway, and back to a car ag^in, with a riT 
 m a tax. m between. Of course I C b^this time 
 that^e was on to me, but I stuck, hoping' Lra'S: 
 
152 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 Later at the Ninety-sixth street station he darted 
 down the steps again, me a good second. This sta- 
 tion is always crowded. A woman blocked me at 
 the gate, and he gained a few seconds. There was 
 an express train waiting. Just as I reached it the 
 guard closed the door in my face. Fatty was just 
 inside. As the train started he turned around and 
 thumbed his nose at me. I felt cheap. 
 
 A.N. 
 
i6 
 
 Report from Australia 
 
 REFFRRTVr * Melbourne, May 20th 
 
 r«DcS *° T' '"""'^ °^ ^''^ 'O* ultimo 
 respecting one Kenton Milbourne said to h. 
 
 bo JrS; wrira" Jd" rrh-*'" ^'"^°" ^^''■ 
 
 America CyL Mr m1"'"* '"'' ""''^ ^" 
 appearing a, ~ iJZ^'lTIT " ''^ ?"«"* 
 ^uring the province of New^out^^vfaTs " mT 
 
 f„l']l*'*SP!'°^°«"P'> y°" enclosed, we are in 
 >53 
 
154 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 John and the black sheep of the family, who went to 
 America ten years ago, after having been implicated 
 m the robbery of Morton's Bank, Melbourne, No 
 proceedings were ever taken against him. 
 
 From the same informant we learn that no one in 
 Australia has heard of Evan Whittlesey since he 
 went away, except possibly his brother who is reti- 
 cent on the subject, suggesting that what information 
 he has of his brother is not perhaps creditable. 
 
 At this writing we arc unable to furnish any in- 
 formation regarding Evan Whittlesey's early l.fe 
 beyond what is contained in the general statement 
 that he was "wild^" that is to say, a trial to his 
 parents and his respectable brother — whose stage 
 name he appears to have borrowed for his American 
 activities. If you desire us to go to the expense of a 
 thorough investigation of Evan Whittlesey's past, 
 please authorise by cable. 
 
 Trusting to be favoured with your future com- 
 mands, etc. 
 
 WiLLARD, WiLLARD AND GaINES. 
 
 The next report from which I will quote is Sadie's. 
 It contained an unpleasant surprise. In order to 
 make it clear I must briefly explain the arrangements 
 of the International Detective Bureau. We had 
 three offices en suite on the sixth floor of a building 
 on West Forty-Second street. The door of the first 
 room faced the elevators, and upon it was lettered 
 our sign. Within was a neat railing, behind which 
 •tt Peter Kecnan the ostensible head of the estab- 
 
Thieves' Wit ,55 
 
 The lecond IM. room wag »pp„,ed b, ,1,, ,„ 
 
 «.Itro:;j^.:tist't""^"'°''- 
 iiis«r.,"io":ri'or '- *°"^" '-« 
 
 on Sadie as one of i , "P""''^" looked 
 Kcenan "the bos": Thf Tof S' T' .r/''"^'^ 
 opened on a side corrido' soTat tie men '^ '°'"" 
 seen around the front office '" '''" "''^^ 
 
 Report of S. F. (Sadie Farrell) 
 
 Last evening at 5 .-15 operative S. C. came into the 
 office wthout instructions. He had been toS I Je 
 
156 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 This morning I heard loud talking in the front 
 ofiSce. Mr. Keenan explained later that a queer old 
 man had come in, and had told a long rambling story 
 about being persecuted. It seems that he wanted 
 to engage the agency to protect him. It seemed a 
 natural enough thing — we have had these harmless 
 cranks before. Mr. Keenan soothed him down by 
 telling him we were too busy to do proper justice to 
 his case, and referred him to the police station. 
 Neither of us thought anything more about it. 
 
 This afternooii shortly before five I heard the 
 old man's voice again in the outer o£Bce. Mr. 
 Keenan had stepped out to post some papers to you. 
 The old man was excited, and I could hear by Miss 
 Reilly's voice that she was very much frightened. 
 So I went to her assistance. 
 
 I saw a bent, old man in shabby black, with wild, 
 straggly hair, broken teeth and red-rimmed eyes, 
 a repulsive sight. The instant I laid eyes on him I 
 saw that he was not very insane. His manner was 
 both servile and threatening. It was like stage in- 
 sanity, incoherent jabbering and wild gestures. The 
 girl was frightened half out of her wits. 
 
 I asked him what he wanted, and he calmed right 
 down. His speech was unintelligible as if he had 
 some of those tablets in his mouth that actors use to 
 make their voice thick. He made no more trouble. 
 He bowed and smirked and backed out of the door. 
 The last thing I heard was a silly kind of laugh. 
 
 By this time I was full of suspicions. He had 
 quieted down much too quickly. Besides, there was 
 
Thieves' Wit 157 
 
 S ^ tf^ '"*'"'" °^ ^''^ '•'''"or boys. They 
 ".d the old man had been in three time U,t 
 
 evemngasweUastwicetoHlay. LastniirK 
 
 up in the elevator with opemive S c l^^"^^^ 
 
 S. C called up about this time to report that Mil 
 boumc had not left his boarding-house aUdly Mr 
 Keenan questioned the operative over the phone aj 
 my prompting, and we discovered that S C h?H 
 
 that S. C. had lost Milbourne about i -lovV.rr 
 He^had me. ^ly .„ppo,ed that he had gone home 
 holt"'l?H:ZVu '""."P ^'i^oumes boarding. 
 
 i^"nrh::h^dtttfcrj^^^^^^^ 
 hr?irw?;™^'r^-"^^^^^^ 
 
 ?a°fa-„l M r '^'P'"'* °" *^"*= operatives. Since 
 talkmg to this woman I have received D. B 's renor^ 
 
 ga^ thel ""r.^"'^ ^'^'^ '* ~"1'J be that 
 give the old man a familiar look, I suddenly got it 
 
 rger, afterwards given to Richards? The man- 
 
158 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 agement thought Milboume's conception was too 
 realiitic, but Milbourae himself was childishly proud 
 of his make-up in that part. He showed us a photo- 
 graph, do you remember? Well, that was the same 
 old man, wrinkles, scraggly hair, mean smile and all. 
 The same clothes. 
 
 It is easyto figure out now what happened. After 
 giving the operative the slip in the department store, 
 Milboume went to some friend's room or thieves' 
 hangout and disguised himself. He then returned 
 to the neighbourhood of the boarding-house on 49th 
 street and watched the watchers there. When S. C. 
 was relieved by A. N. at five, Milboume followed 
 S. C. into the office. He was smart enough to see 
 on his first visit to-day that Mr. Keenan was not the 
 real head of the office, and so he bothered us until 
 I betrayed myself. Hence the laug^ when he went 
 out. 
 
 I need not say how sorry I am for the accident. 
 I blame myself quite as much as S. C. Luck played 
 right into Milboume's hand this time. I see how 
 important it is. He knows of the connection be- 
 tween you and I, consequently all your trouble to 
 let it be supposed that you are out of the case goes 
 for nothing now. 
 
 I have replaced S. C. with the new man, W. J., 
 who came so well recommended. I have put S. C. 
 at clerical work. Shall I discharge him altogether? 
 
 S.F. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 Report of J, M. No. 5 
 
 159 
 
 On Saturday afternoon after work aZJ-^'** 
 wiia wnicn 1 am provided to M . '. r.,™- u 
 
 oucn eyes I am sure, would look on at the murder 
 of a parent unconcerned— if there was ZJh- • 
 't. I believe you are riorh^ ;„ • *"y*'""K "» 
 
 «.n. Good J,„\-^S-;^- ;•-- "^ ;k. 
 
 But he was afraid of me. He offered to ienA ™ 
 
 3:7 °"7J '^r'"''^' ''"* declined to p^lr 
 He demanded to know how Jf J,,^ • P'"^'^""^. 
 
i6o 
 
 Thieves* Wit 
 
 stone out of my wife's engagement ring. The ring 
 itself she still wore with its empty setting. Such 
 was the pathos of the tale that I almost succeeded in 
 convincing myself that it was true. It didn't matter, 
 of course, whether the pawnbroker believed it or 
 not, but it had to be a good story on the face of it, 
 because it would be fatal to my chances of success if 
 I gave the impression of being a fool. 
 
 The hard eyes gave no sign one way or another. 
 One could hardly expect a pawnbroker to be moved 
 by a hard luck story. He told me to come back on 
 Monday at noon, and he would see what he could do 
 for me. 
 
 I hastened up there as soon as we were released 
 for the lunch hour to-day. There were two men 
 loitering in the store ; men of the same kidney as the 
 astute proprietor apparently, very sprucely dressed. 
 
 M, himself ignored me for the moment and this 
 
 precious pair gave me the "once over" as they say. 
 I could feel their eyes boring into me like gimlets. 
 However, it is possible to be too sharp to be dis- 
 cerning. They were deceived. A scarcely per- 
 ceptible sign passed between them and the pawn- 
 broker, and the latter suddenly became aware of the 
 existence of his shabby customer. 
 
 He now "showed me what he intended for a real 
 friendly air. He couldn't buy my diamond himself, 
 he said, but seeing he felt so sorry for me he would 
 send me to a diamond broker he knew, who would 
 do business with me if I satisfied him it was on the 
 level. He gave me an address near by. I enclose 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 i6i 
 
 Ae card, but neither the name nor the address means 
 anything of course I went there at once, risking a 
 
 t" IheTo '" '^ ^ ^" '*'" «'"'"8 •'«'' 
 
 It was a room on the second floor of a typical 
 Third avenue house, shop below, furnished rooms 
 above, and the elevated road pounding by the win- 
 dows Evident y there had been a hasty attempt 
 to make It look like an office; a desk had been 
 brought in and the bed removed. Behind the desk 
 sat a fat man rolling a cigar between his thick lips, 
 and trymg to look as if he were not expecting me. 
 He looked prosperous in a common way, with his 
 silk hat on the back of his head, and his immense 
 kapmg cutaway. His face was red and what passes 
 for good-humoured with little pig eyes lost in fat 
 A huge moustache with curled ends, decorated it, the 
 kind of moustache that I thought even New York 
 pohticians had given up nowadays. In a phrase, 
 the manlooked like a ward leader «f fifteen years 
 ago. Tlic most characteristic thing about him was 
 IMS busding energy, unusual in one so fat 
 
 This aUeged diamond broker was making out to 
 De very much occupied with business. He kept m- 
 wa.tmg a while. As soon as he took the diamond 
 m his hand I saw that he knew nothing about stones. 
 He didn t even have a glass to examine it. Evi- 
 
 .Ill-L?' T'^.l'l'^ ''"" P"'*'^ t° h™ that it was 
 aU nght. But if he knew nothing about diamonds, 
 toe was well experienced in humanity. He put me 
 tnrough a gruelling cross-examination which I sup- 
 
I62 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 ported a> beit I coulA My delicate problem was 
 to lead him to tuipect I wat a crook, without letting 
 him think I wat a fool. To this end I elaborated 
 the story of my old wife's engagement ring. He 
 listened to it with a leer in his little eyes, as much as 
 to say: "Pretty good old fellow I But you needn't 
 take all that trouble with me!" 
 
 He expressed himself as satisfied, and we passed 
 to the discussion of the price. I asked something 
 near the stone's real value. He laughed, and of- 
 fered me a fifth of that. We were presently hotly 
 engaged in humanldnd's first game, bargaining. He 
 loved it. Unfortunately I was handicapped by the 
 necessity of getting back to work. We agreed on a 
 price which was about a quarter of the stone's value. 
 No doubt he would have had more respect for me 
 if I had held out longer. He paid me out of an 
 enormous roll of greasy bills. 
 
 I was sorry to see the stone go. It was a good 
 one, nearly two carats. It was not safe of course to 
 mark it in any visible way, but I have had this and 
 the other decoy diamonds carefully described and 
 photographed, so that we will have no difficulty in 
 identifying them later. 
 
 As I was about to leave he shook my hand in 
 fnendly fashion, and still with that indescribable 
 leer, expressed a hope that he might do further 
 business together. 
 I mumbled something about a pair of earrings. 
 "Good!" he said. "Let me see them. Even if 
 you don't want to let me have them, I'll appraise 
 
Thiew.' Wit 
 
 i«$ 
 
 I declined to give it 
 
 t«ll you where you c.^^J^^' """''«"'") -» 
 I «ot back to n,y work ju.t in time to .void a fine. 
 
 J.M. 
 
 Report of J. M. No. 6 
 
 •trcct I ran into my fat friend H^ Thirty-Fourth 
 eet Which slap the pavement resoundingly. His 
 
 su lenlv for T w;^ »1 • l "• Somewhat 
 
 Hin,.i^or,erthr iT^^xiireSir --', 
 
 Ufd tr'.;"'" '"^ •^"''^ restaurantTg^STef He 
 f« man "" *° ^'" ""^ "'""«• "» 'ouJ jolly 
 
 fat-man ways provide a cover for . consfde Sk 
 
i64 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 •ituteneii. It was my game to make out that I wai 
 startled to be found in that neighbourhood, and that 
 my conscience was none too good. It was his game 
 to put me at my ease and have it understood that 
 everything went between friends. Nothing was 
 said, however, about his business or mine. 
 
 I stuck to my lately-arrived immigrant story, and 
 he symphathised with my lonesomeness in a strange 
 land. He was a bachelor, he said, and often lone- 
 some himself. This line led presently to an invita- 
 tion for me to join him last night for a little socia- 
 bility at the Turtle' Bay Caf6 on Lexington Avenue. 
 I accepted it. I am sure by his eagerness to culti- 
 vate my acquaintance that he knows I work in 
 Dunsany's. 
 
 I met him at eight o'clock, and we secured a little 
 table to ourselves in a sort of alcove. The Turtle 
 Bay is just one of the usual saloons, mahogany, plate 
 glass and electric lights. The principal lure of such 
 places is the dazzling flood of light they cast on the 
 pavement. They have discovered the subtle psycho- 
 logical appeal of li^t. Away with night and its 
 terrors J 
 
 My fat friend was liberally hospitable. I allowed 
 my suspicious sullen manner to be charmed away by 
 degrees. In a way he is really entertaining with his 
 gross humour and rude vitality. I suppose any one 
 can charm when they have a mind to. The cloven 
 hoof, however, peeped out in his brutal snarls at 
 the newsies and beggars who came to our table. On 
 the whole I enjoyed myself. It was a lot better 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 i<^ 
 
 thin mooning in my wretched room, or wandering 
 the lultry .trecti thinking of the cool and comfort- 
 able club. 
 
 The will being good on both sides we got along 
 famously. No actual confidences have passed be- 
 tween us yet, but we are ripe for them. As we mel- 
 lowed together I allowed it tn peep out that I had a 
 bitter grudge against soricty. and uould stop at 
 nothmg to feed it He enthisiastically applauded 
 my sentiments. 
 
 "Life is a bank !" he said, "that's got to be busted 
 into if a man wants to enjov any of the good things 1" 
 
 I am to caU him George Pawling. We have i 
 date to meet at the Turtle Bay again to-mon „ 
 night. I hinted that I might have another diam-na 
 or two. 
 
 I was glad to hear from you that this mar, h 
 undoubtedly one of the gang. So I am on the r-rfj 
 track! 
 
 J.M. 
 
17 
 
 IDONT want to give you too much of the opera- 
 tives* reports. I tell myself it is not to be ex- 
 pected anybody would have the same absorbing in- 
 terest that I have in all the ramifications of the 
 case. So I will go on with my story in the ordinary 
 way. 
 
 After the catastrophe, it will be remembered, Miss 
 Hamerton and Sadie had gone into the country to a 
 little retreat I chose for them. After a day or two 
 Sadie, seeing that Miss Hamerton could be left 
 alone, would in fact be better Ame, returned, and 
 took up her work on the case as has been seen. 
 Later, that is about the first of June, Miss Hamerton 
 was so far recovered as to be able to go to South- 
 ampton, and open her cottage for the season. 
 Now, towards the end of the month, I learned that 
 she had come to town for a few days to talk over 
 next season's plans with her manager. All of which 
 was encouraging as far as her health and spirits 
 were concerned. But thinking of my friend Roland, 
 I was not anxious to see her recover too quickly. 
 I had kept my promise to him, and Miss Hamerton 
 was unaware that I was still busy on her case. 
 
 I was shy about going to see her. My feeling 
 was, considering her position and mine, that if she 
 wished to keep up the connection she ought to give 
 
 166 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 167 
 
 me some sign. I confess I was a little hurt that 
 1 had not received any. 
 
 One day as I was returning to the office after lunch 
 1 met her stroUing up the avenue with Mount. 
 When I caught sight of her the whole street bright- 
 ened for me with her loveliness. I watched her 
 coming for half a block before she saw me. She 
 seemed well; she had a good colour, and her face 
 was vivacious— more vivacious than it used to be 
 a little too vivacious. She seemed to have become 
 aware of the necessity of vivacity. When she 
 laughed her eyes were sombre. 
 
 She was dressed in a strange bright bluft— few 
 women could have carried off that dazzling colour 
 so well with coral red at her girdle and on her hat. 
 She walked through the crowd with the beautiful un- 
 consciousness that was part of her stage training. 
 The stanng, the whispering, the craning of necfa, 
 neither troubled nor pleased her. Alfred Mount, 
 who was no child in the world, could not quite hide 
 his pride at being seen with her. He, too, was 
 gorgeously arrayed, a little too well-dressed for a 
 man of his age. But I had to grant his youthful 
 air, and good looks. 
 
 I raised my hat, and was for keeping on, but she 
 stopped short. 
 
 "Arc you going to pass me by?" she cried with 
 charming reproachfulness. 
 
 I became as proud and conceited as Mount, thus 
 to be singled out by her. Everybody stared at me. 
 
i68 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 Mount's greeting was affable and chilly— like winter 
 sunshine. I fell into step beside them. 
 
 "Why haven't you been to see me?" she de- 
 manded. 
 
 "Why didn't you let me know you were in town?" 
 I countered. 
 
 "I didn't like to bother one so busy," she said. 
 
 This to me from her I I walked on air. 
 
 "How is business, Enderby?" Mount asked in a 
 faintly sneering tone. 
 
 "Poor," I said calmly. "Everybody appears to 
 be behaving themselves." 
 
 "Ah 1" said he. 
 
 "What stories he could tell us if he would 1" my 
 dear lady said admiringly. 
 
 I smiled, as I suppose was expected of me. Little 
 did she suspect that the only case I had was hers. 
 
 We walked on chatting idly. What was said 
 wouldn't be worth repeating, I expect, even if I could 
 remember it. For me the mere sound of her voice 
 was enough. 
 
 There was no mention of the unhappy things 
 that were past. We were all engaged in a tacit 
 conspiracy to look forward. She told me of the new 
 play that was proposed for her. She insisted that 
 I must read it before the matter was finally de- 
 termined. 
 
 "You have such wonderful good sense I" she said. 
 
 "And not at all affected by the actor's point of view." 
 
 Mount's face looked a Jittle pinched at this warm 
 
 praise, I wondered, had he been consulted about 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 169 
 
 the play. If he really honoured me with his jealousy 
 he was foolish. I did not dream of aspiring to be 
 anythmg more than her honest, faithful friend, 
 iadie, I hoped, was my destined mate while Irma 
 Hamerton was— why she was the sun over us all. 
 ^adie herself felt the same towards her as I did 
 On the other hand I was jeal6us of Mount. I con- 
 sidcred him presumptuous to aspire to our sun, as 
 he plamly did. He wasn't half good enough— half ? 
 —he wasn't worthy to tie her shoe. Besides, I was 
 anxious about Roland. 
 
 At Forty-second street they were turning West to 
 
 the theatre district, and I bade them good-bye. 
 
 Miss Hamerton covered me with confusion by ask- 
 
 mg me to dine with her at her hotd the same night. 
 
 Is It to be a party?" I asked. 
 
 "No, indeed," she said. "Nobody but Alfred " 
 
 .. J'^'l^''^'^^'^" '^^ "'='^- ^* J"^ "I'^ay been 
 Mr. Mount." It set my teeth on edge. 
 
 I accepted and left them. 
 
 Dinner was served in her exquisite little drawing- 
 room now loaded with sweet peas. For some 
 reason that I have forgotten, the tiresome old Mrs. 
 BIcecker was not in evidence— still I did not have a 
 good time. I believe none of us had. "Alfred" still 
 stuck in my crop. I reflected jealously, that if it had 
 not been for the accidental meeting with me, Mount 
 would have been alone with her. No doubt he was 
 thinking of that, too. Everything from hors 
 daeuvres to chartreuse was exquisite, but I had no 
 zest in it. 
 
170 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 It was "Alfred" this and "Alfred" that. Really 
 it seemed as if my dear lady was rubbing it in. I 
 suppose that was her delicate way of letting me 
 know of her intentions. I fancied I perceived a 
 certain apprehensiveness in her as to how I was go- 
 ing to take it. Perhaps I flattered myself. Any- 
 how it was enough to make the angels weep. She 
 was not in the least in love with him, she could not 
 have been, but after the way of dear, ignorant 
 women she was trying to persuade herself that she 
 was. Hence the "Alfreds." I thought of my pas- 
 sionate young friend eating his heart out in a hall 
 bedroom and my food choked me. 
 
 Irma made some half laughing reference to the 
 relief of being freed from Mrs. Bleecker's presence. 
 
 "If she bothers you why don't you let her go?" 
 said Mount. 
 
 "Poor soul I What would she do?" said Irma. 
 "She'd never get another situation, she's so disagree- 
 able. Besides, I don't know that I could do any 
 better." 
 
 "Hardly worth while," said Mount. "You won't 
 need a chaperon much longer." 
 
 This was plain enough. It killed conversation 
 for a moment or two. I was sure Irma sent an im- 
 ploring glance in my direction, but I kept my eyes on 
 my plate. Was it imploring me not to judge her, 
 or imploring me to support her in what she meant 
 to do, or imploring me to save her from it? How 
 was a man to tell? I am sure she would have been 
 glad if I had forced the question into the open, but 
 
Thieves' Wit 171 
 
 I didn't know how to do it. True. I could have 
 dropped a bomb in the middle of the table that would 
 have shattered Mount's hopes, merely by telling 
 what I knew of Roland. But my lips were sealed 
 by my promise to him. 
 
 I ^uT "'^'^a 'f")' f««t'ou» remark at which we 
 laughed and fled from the disconcerting subject. 
 But It seemed as if we could not avoid it for long. 
 1 he most mnocent line of conversation had a wTr 
 of landmg us squarely in front of it. As when Irnia 
 said : 
 
 "Have you heard that Beulah Maddox has started 
 agam to get a divorce?" 
 
 Miss Maddox had been the heavy woman in our 
 company. 
 
 "That is the eleventh time she has started pro- 
 ceedmgs, isn't it?" said I. 
 
 ''Constant in inconstancy 1" murmured Mount. 
 Miss Maddox's emotions are like soap-bubbles, " 
 1 said. 
 
 *'Do you think women are fickle?" Irma asked 
 ''ainful " ^°°^ '" ""^'^^ *'''" ''" something very 
 
 I, thinking of poor Roland agonizing over his 
 shorthand book until after midnight every nidit 
 could not help but shrug slightly. ^"T^ "'Snt, 
 
 "If they are it's the men's fault I" said Irma 
 bitterly. "The men I have known would make 
 constancy in women an indication of imbecility!" 
 
 So there we were again 1 
 
 "Funny, isn't it," drawled Mount, "how the sexes 
 
17* 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 have no vtte for each other, yet love stories stUI 
 seU." 
 
 We laughed again. You had to admit Mount 
 was a good man at a dinner table. 
 
 I excused myself early on the plea of business, and 
 went direct to Roland. Here I find I am a little 
 ahead of my story, for I have not told you of his 
 present circumstances. 
 
 Roland had forsworn the stage. In this, as in 
 everything else, he was an extremist, and he had cut 
 himself off absolutely from his former life. People 
 were always deceived by Roland's quietness. That 
 composed face and indifferent manner concealed a 
 capacity for white hot passion. As a matter of 
 fact, I suppose, really passionate people are always 
 like this, they couldn't live with themselves else, 
 but we are blind to it. Roland had the spirit of a 
 fanatic He was always torturing himself one way 
 or another. You couldn't help being fond of him he 
 was so noble — and so silly. 
 
 Now, if you please, he had sold everything he 
 possessed, and with the proceeds had pensioned off 
 his old servant with an annuity. The mysterious 
 legacy which had counted so against him, he had 
 turned over to me with instructions to use it in 
 bringing the thieves of Irma's pearls to justice. I 
 couldn't very well refuse the money without con- 
 fessing that Walter Dunsany was backing me, and 
 no one in the world, not even Sadie, was to know of 
 the relations between Mr. Dunsany and me. Be- 
 sides, if I hadn't taken it he would have done some- 
 
Thieves' Wit 173 
 
 thing more fooli.h with it. So I wa. holding it in 
 
 Having divested himself literally of every cent 
 Roland set about finding a job. Among his old 
 
 wou^d have been glad to put him in the way of a 
 
 t'l r'' ui °' r'" ''^ -"'d not apply to 
 but he i™,f ^"' ''""^ ''""^^'"K for him my'elf. 
 but he would not let me. He wanted to stand on 
 h.s own bottom, he said. He set about answering 
 
 any green lad from the country 
 
 Roland with his romantic good looks could not 
 b ms^.fica„t m any sphere however humble. He 
 
 as h tioLh^V" ''" ^^"""^ ^°'^ *° "^« himself, 
 as he thought, from starvation. He served as a 
 
 hited hi, J*? T^ '° "y " '^^' »™= that he 
 He fiirt '°f j' ".^ J '""y *'>''* he meant it. 
 ,n<r;„ • ^ ?''''^ " ^°^ " """ta" bookkeeper 
 and nvo.e clerk with a coffee importer on Wate 
 
 Tu\ V ''.'' hypnotised them into believing he 
 could keep books I can't say. His salary was ten 
 
 wS^'i'ant""'' "' ^ ''^'^ '^'''"■" '^> -hich you 
 wiU grant was somethmg of a change for the late 
 
 on Sf/.^ ''' ""'!:""''• "' '''^ - hall bedroom 
 on East Seventeenth street, and ate outside. In th™ 
 cvemngs he boned shorthand. His idea was to 
 
 toTtldyl'r" '"^"^ '^^ '""°«^^P''"' -^ «-% 
 
174 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 I found him at usual in the wretched little room, 
 bending over the shorthand manual with a green 
 siiade over his eyes. I was his only visitor in those 
 days. He was thinner than of yore, not so harassed 
 perhaps, but grimmer. There were deep hawklike 
 lines from his proud nose to the comers of his bitter 
 lips. It ma4- me savage to see him wasting his 
 splendid yojrh in this fashion. 
 
 "I've ju.- had dinner with Irma," I said 
 
 "Yes?" he said calmly. 
 
 You never could get any change out of Roland. 
 Whatever he felt hi never dropped that hawk mask. 
 
 "Mount was there." 
 
 "Charming fellow. Mount." 
 
 "Do you like him?" I asked amazed. 
 
 "I neither like him nor dislike him," he said 
 evenly. "He's a charming fellow, isn't he?" 
 
 "Oh, that's the tag they put on him," I said im- 
 patiently. 
 
 He returned his attention to the shorthand book. 
 This unnatural pretence of indifference exasperated 
 me beyond bearing. 
 
 "I believe they're preparing to get married," I 
 said brutally. 
 
 "We expected that, didn't we?" 
 
 "Don't you caref" 
 
 "Not overmuch." 
 
 I knew he lied. 
 
 "What do yoa want to put on this pretence with 
 me for?" I demanded. "If you were really as caJ- 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 175 
 
 lous >nd unfeeling » you make out I wouldn't bother 
 with you. 
 He merely smiled. 
 
 I ^ ;^"„*'««™ined to rouse him. "She doesn't 
 love him," I said. 
 
 "He's rich," he returned with a sneer. 
 
 All the time I was trying to goad him I was get- 
 tmg more worked up myself. "That's not it I" I 
 answered angrily^ "Nobody knows it better than 
 you. She s sound to the core. It', only your black 
 temper that sees evil in her I" 
 
 "Then how do you explain Mount?" he asked. 
 
 That s her m.tmct," I said. "It would be any 
 
 her^lfThT^' T'^t ^^''' ''^'"^ '° P"«'«de 
 herself that she loves him to fill the horrible empti- 
 ness of her heart since you failed her." 
 
 two peJk..''"^" ^" "''^ ^''*^ *"" '^''"°''» •"''^'''K 
 "Predsely. You have no right to allow her to 
 go on thinkmg that you are guilty." 
 
 h\llJT' K?" *°uf '"'° *^"* "««'"'" •« "!d with 
 nis immovable stubbornness. 
 
 crie" ^"^ '* " "tastrophc it wiU be your fault," I 
 
 vo3'""'''n * ^'.r 1°^^ y°" °'*'="' y°"'^« «"»«<! your 
 vocation, Ben," he said with his bitter smile. 
 
 You re so romantic. Let's change the subject." 
 thJ T'' - "l'^- "^''" K^"'' ^'"^ ^•""ntic, if 
 ever did, because I have no hopes there myself. I 
 
176 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 am thinking of her. You think of nothing but your^ 
 •elf and your childish pride I" 
 
 "Bravo, Ben I" he laid mockingly. 
 
 "I can't stand aside and see her marry Mount. 
 He's too old. There's an evil spot in him some 
 place that I can't put my finger on." 
 
 "Well, what are you going to do about it?" 
 
 "I came to you to get you to let me off my promise 
 to say nothing." 
 
 That roused him as nothing else could. He 
 sprang up, his face dark with passion. He actually 
 threatened me witjh his fist. 
 
 "You swore to me I" he cried. "By God 1 if you 
 break your oath " 
 
 "Keep your hair on," I said. "Am I not here 
 asking you to let me off?" 
 
 "I will not let you off," he said. "This is my 
 affair, and mine only " 
 
 "How about her?" I put in. 
 
 He did not hear me. 
 
 "You mean to be my friend, but friendship has no 
 right to dictate another man's private affairs. I lead 
 my life as I have to. You lead yours. No inter- 
 ference. That's the only way we can be friends. 
 The only way you can help me in this is by bringing 
 the thieves to book." 
 
 "But that's going to be a long chase," I groaned. 
 "Meanwhile Mount is making hay. What's the use 
 of publishing the truth if the mischief is already 
 done?" 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 177 
 
 "If (he can bring henel/ to mtrry 
 
 He shrugged. 
 Mount 1" 
 
 The self-iufficiency of a passionate young man I I 
 could almost have wept at my helplessness against 
 his obstmacy. "Be fair I" I cried. "It is our ex- 
 penence, our knowledge of men that warns us against 
 Mount. How can she tell?" 
 
 "This does no good," he muttered. 
 
 In his bitter wrongheadedness I believe that he 
 almost wished that Irma might find out her mistake 
 too late. 
 
 But I would not give up, though I felt it was 
 useless "What happiness can there be for any 
 of us if Irma comes to grief?" I said, 
 
 i>^^?^\ ^°l ^°^'' "''' ^'"P •*'" ''« '"«d painfully. 
 What s the good of tearing open these old sores. 
 You re off on the wrong tack. I've told you often 
 enough. What if you did tell her I was innocent, 
 and she turned back to me. That would be worse. 
 I have nothmg for her. I don't believe in her. 
 5>hes dead to me. You can't revive that sort of 
 thing." 
 
 "Very well, then," I said. "It would be more 
 merciful never to tell her that you are innocent." 
 
 That touched him. "Oh-^-|" he said sharply 
 taken aback. "A man doesn't like to dwell under 
 that sort of accusation I He quickly recovered him- 
 self. Just as you think best," he said hardily. 
 
 But let him make believe all he liked, the one 
 little g impse had convinced me that he was human 
 alter all. 
 
'"oocorr hmuition tbt chmt 
 
 (*NSI gnd ISO TIST CHAKT No. 2) 
 
 l^l^l^ 
 
 A 
 
 ^^PPLIED IN/MGE Inc 
 
 I6M EoM Mdn Slra«t 
 
 R>cM». Kn roi» l4«oa us, 
 
 (7I«) «2 - 0X0 - Phona 
 
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i8 
 
 IT was on the way home from Roland's room in 
 the dark and silent side streets that I first dis- 
 covered I was being trailed. Since receiving Sadie's 
 report of Milboume's visit to her office I had ex- 
 pected this. It troubled me little. My position as 
 commander-in-chief kept me behind the lines, and 
 they would not Icam much by following me. My 
 mail I got from the post-office myself, and our tele- 
 phone conversations as a rule would not have con- 
 veyed anything to an outsider, if he did succeed in 
 intercepting them. At the same time it was annoy- 
 ing to know oneself watched. I wondered if there 
 was any advantage to be gained from a counter 
 stroke. Since they had succeeded in bringing me 
 into the open, I had a mind to take an open shot at 
 them. I began to lay my plans forthwith. 
 
 My shadow picked me up as I issued from my 
 house next morning. He waited outside the restau- 
 rant where I had my breakfast and accompanied me 
 to the office. Looking out of my office window I 
 could actually see him sitting on a bench in Bryant 
 Park (q)posite. He was a slender young man with 
 an unwholesome complexion and mean, sharp eyes, 
 a "sleirth" of the cheapest type. I wondered some- 
 what since they thought me worth following, that 
 they had not chosen a better instrument than that. 
 178 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 179 
 
 He had a good long wait, for I sent out for sand- 
 wiches at lunch time. At two o'clock he was relieved 
 by a man, considerably beefier but not a bit more 
 intelligent-looking. It apparently had not occurred 
 them " *° investigate if I was watching 
 
 I determined to reach back at my enemies through 
 their own spy. Having telephoned Sadie to have 
 two good men meet me at the New Amsterdam Hotel 
 at five-thirty, I saUied forth. My shadow resumed 
 hjs attendance at my heels in the most obvious way. 
 What kind of a fool did he think I wasi It was 
 child s play to shake him off. I merely went through 
 the drug-store m the Times Building and downstairs 
 to the subway station. I crossed under the tracks, 
 mixed m the crowd on the up-town platform, and 
 ascended to the street again. I saw my gum-shoe 
 artist' no more. 
 
 I met the two men Sadie sent me, gave them their 
 instructions and went home. My only fear now was 
 tiiat I might not be able to find my traUer again. 
 IJut bye and bye to my satisfaction I saw the beefy 
 one loafing across the street. I went out and dined 
 weU, while he looked through the restaurant window. 
 1 took m a show, letting him cool his heels outside 
 / M i7 ^1^ afterwards I treated myself to one 
 of old Adam s rabbits and a mug of ale. It was 
 near midnight when I was through with that and the 
 time was npe for my little comedy. I wended mv 
 way towards the office with gumshoes hard on my 
 ,trail. ' 
 
i8o 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 The little building where I have my office is given 
 over entirely to business, and is closed for the night 
 at ten o'clock. Like the other tenants, I am pro- 
 vided with a latchkey, in case I have to get in after 
 hours. I am often there late, but I have never met 
 any of the other tenants at night. 
 
 It all went through as on roller bearings. I 
 walked down Fortieth street softly whistling 
 "Mighty Lak' a Rose," which was my signal to the 
 two men. They were posted in the shadow of the 
 last doorway I had to pass before turning into my 
 own. The block ii a quiet one at that hour. 
 
 I let myself into my building and w;\ited just inside 
 ithe door. When gum-shoes came along all unsus- 
 picious, my two friends jumped him, and holding his 
 mouth, hustled him in after me, before he well knew 
 what had struck him. We improvised a gag out of 
 a handkerchief, and carried him up-stairt to my 
 office. The fellow did not even kick. 
 
 We dumped him in a chair and turned on the 
 lights. Then we stood off, and the three of us 
 burst out laughing simultaneously. You never saw 
 a more comical sight than the expression of that poor 
 bloodhound who suddenly found himself treed by 
 his quarry I I now had no further use for the two 
 men, so I tipped them and they left us. I locked 
 the door after them and put the key in my pocket. 
 I told my prisoner he might unfasten his gag, and I 
 sat down at my desk facing him. On the desk I 
 prominently displayed a wicked-looking automatic. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 i8i 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 I had no idea of using it, but it made a potent argu- 
 n^ent. 
 
 Having laughed at the man I felt almost friendly 
 towards him. I offered him a cigar. 
 
 He ignored it, and I put it away. "What do you 
 mean by this outrage I" he demanded. 
 
 I laughed afresh. "Come off. Jack I" I said. 
 "You must think I'm a downy chick." 
 
 At that he climbed down, and asked for the cigar 
 quite humbly. "What do you want of me?" he 
 ii'.uttered. 
 
 "Just a little heart to heart talk," I said grinning. 
 
 "You can't make me talk," he growled. 
 
 I played with the revolver. "There's not a soul 
 in the building but ourselves," I said offhand. 
 
 The janitor lived on the top floor, 1 1 supposed 
 he didn't know that. 
 
 .. ^! 7'^*'*' '■'^''* ^°'^' ^^ ^^^ no nerve at all. 
 "I ain't got nothin' against you personally," he 
 whined. "I only got my living to make the same as 
 yourself." 
 
 "Who hired you to trail me?" I asked. 
 
 "I don't know what guy's got it in for you," he 
 stammered. "Honest, I only got my orders from 
 the office." 
 
 "Wl ^ffice?" 
 
 "If y-j queer me there I'll lose my job. I'm a 
 married man with two children." 
 
 "I'll tell them I put a gun to your head." 
 • Aw, let me gp. J ^iu't j;Qt.iu>thin' against you." 
 
I82 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 I picked up the gun. "Come across I Who hired 
 you." 
 
 "The Detective Agency," he stuttered. 
 
 He named one of the largest Agencies in town. 
 Of course, I didn't know but what h« was lying, but 
 I meant to find out before I let him go. I turned 
 a threatening scowl on him, and let my hand stray 
 towards the gun again. 
 "I want the truth," I said. 
 He watched my hand like one hypnotised. Little 
 drops of sweat broke out on his forehead. "For 
 God's sake. Mister;—!" he chattered. "For God's 
 sake—! I'm telling you the truth. I'm only a 
 poor operative. I don't know who wants to iret 
 you!" * 
 
 "You'll have to prove it," I said. 
 
 "CaU up the Agency," he stuttered. "They're 
 open aU night. My name is Atterbury. I'm num- 
 ber 68." 
 
 The instrument was at my hand. I got the num- 
 ber, and was presently answered by a brash young 
 voice demanding to know what I wanted. 
 
 "This is B. Endcrby," I said, "of number — West 
 40th Street. Have you got an operative working 
 for you named Atterbury, number 68 on your 
 books?" 
 
 "I don't know you," returned the voice. "We 
 don't give any information over the phone. Call 
 around and let us look you over." He hung up. 
 
 This littie passage made me downright hot, and 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 183 
 
 I suppose it showed in my face when I looked at the 
 detective again. 
 
 '■Wh-what's the matter?" he stammered. 
 They refuse to identify you." 
 
 He became still paler and clammier if that were 
 possible. "Let me^let me call them," he stam- 
 mered. 
 
 I shoved the instrument towards him and waited. 
 When he got his number he feU all over himself 
 trymg to explain. "Who i, this. Dixon?_Oh. 
 Jones. Joncs-for God's sake I-this is Atterbury. 
 Square me can't you ? This guy Enderby-I me7n 
 Mr. Lnderby s got me sewed up in his office. He's 
 got me covered-for God's sake, square me I Or 
 Im a goner I" 
 
 He shoved the instrument towards me. I kept 
 
 t1^^. r\r "IL.^"' '"^"'^'y I ^" 'taking 
 w th laughter. "This is Enderby again," I said 
 
 X?aVo~""- "^°^ ^°" '•'''^ ^^ "-*-• 
 oughly scared. "I've got your name and number. 
 
 to ri hts "* *'''"" *° ""'' """" ^^'""^ 8°* y°" *^"«* 
 
 the??""'" ^ "'** ^"*'''"^- ""^°" '*''"*'^ h™. 
 
 hvT*"'!''/" ? '^"^^'^ to ^°^" I »«id. "Good- 
 bye. And this time I did the hanging up. 
 
 1 got up and unlocked the door. "Get I" I said 
 
i84 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 to Mr. Atterbury. "If you take my advice, old man, 
 you'll go into some other line." 
 He made grand time on the stairs. 
 
 The head of the Detective Agency was 
 
 Dongan, a well-known and able man, once the head 
 of the New York Detective Bureau. He belonged 
 to a school of investigation different from mine, but 
 I respected his ability and I knew him to be above 
 reproach. I was sure in this situation I could not 
 do better than go direct to him. I called next morn- 
 ing. 
 
 "So you're in the same line?" he said looking at 
 my card. 
 
 "That accounts for my business with you," I re- 
 plied. 
 
 "What can I do for you?" 
 
 "Haven't your people told you what happened in 
 my office last night?" 
 
 "No. Explain yourself." 
 
 "We are in the same line. Hunting down crooks. 
 The supposition is that we handle only dean busi- 
 ness." 
 
 "What are you getting at?" he demanded scowl- 
 ing. 
 
 "I came to ask you to explain why you're track- 
 ing me in the legitimate pursuit of my busines . 
 You will agree, I think, that it looks fishy." 
 
 "I don't know anything about it," he said crossly. 
 "I don't know you." 
 
 'J will wait while you enquire," J said mildly. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 185 
 
 He went into his outer ofBce. In about five min- 
 utM he returned bringing a younger man. 
 
 17 T!"'„ T" '""^ '° '"'^' *^ 8°ods on ui. 
 Enderby, he said ruefully. "It was a small job 
 and I was not consulted." 
 
 "Our client never told us you were a detective," 
 said the other man. 
 
 "I wiU make the excuses," said his employer 
 
 i7\ ^ ."T^* ^^^ '"»" ^^° "B>8««J "» to trail 
 Mr. Enderby." 
 
 "Gave his name as Lawlor. Fleshy man about 
 forty-five years old. Red face, big black or dark 
 brown moustache. Wears a cutaway coat and silk 
 hat, very active in his movements." 
 
 "Has unusually large feet," I added, "which he 
 slaps down in a peculiar way when he walks." 
 
 ..J'^1''^' ^^^" "''^ **** y°""8 ">»". surprised. 
 You know him?" 
 
 .. JJ^°* 1°. ""^^ " ^ '^°"''' ''"^^ ^°'" I »a'd dryly. 
 What address did he give you?" 
 
 "We haven't got his address?" 
 "Where were your reports to be sent?" 
 The young man consulted a card. "Box 220. 
 Station W, New York." 
 
 JWell, that's something," I said, and rose. 
 When you report to him please don't mention that 
 1 ve been in." 
 
 "There will be no more reports," said Dongan 
 shortly. "We'll return his money." 
 
 "If you want to make up to me for the trouble 
 you ve put me to, make him one more report," I 
 
i86 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 •uggesited. "Simply tell him that upon learning that 
 I wai a detective, Mr. Dongan directed that the 
 buaineit be refused." 
 "I will do that," Dongan said. 
 "When would you ordinarily report to him?" I 
 asked. 
 
 "This morning," the young man replied I 
 guessed from his foolish expression that a lurid ac- 
 count of the last night's proceedings had already 
 been written. 
 
 "Goodl" I said. "WiU you please send it right 
 off? I want to watch the letter box." 
 Dongan agreed. 
 
 I hastened to Oscar Nilson's shop. An hour or 
 so later I issued from under his hands, as perfect 
 a specimen of the snuffy old man, the shabby genteel, 
 as you could have found in any public reading-room 
 from Chatham Square to Cooper Union. Oscar is 
 a wonder. 
 
 By noon I was at Station W, which is away up- 
 town on Columbus avenue. Peeping through the 
 glass front of Box 229 I saw that the letter from 
 Dongan had not yet arrived, at least the box was 
 empty. A little while later I had the satisfaction of 
 
 seeing the letter with the Detective Agency 
 
 imprint on the corner shoot into the box. 
 
 For a weary two hours thereafter I made believe 
 to amuse myself with the store windows of the block, 
 up and down, both sides. Since I was the very pic- 
 ture of a harmless old loafer, my movements at- 
 tracted no notice. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 187 
 
 
 At last he hove in vie* on foot. There wai n„ 
 danger of overlooking thi. „,,„ in . c" J" 1 
 
 m r"''' '^^ !*'°** "'"y- "« "">« dip- 
 ping down the street with hi. vast cutaway spread 
 
 With a shape and peculiarities so marked a crook 
 
 Tzz'',i '"""^ ''''" '° ""p out :;'thc t"?;: 
 
 wasft l?oV»r' "1 "^r" ' «°°** °'«- There 
 7Zf!.u " '"°'' '" '••' appearance. His fat. 
 rosy fact bore an expression of good will to aU men 
 
 len^'-'T^"""."' '^' P°"-°ffi« ^^ th^ open 
 letter m hu, hand, and looking not . ie so go^. 
 
 natured. He started North again. stiU on fo^. 
 Walking at that rate it was impossible for an a^ 
 parently decrepit old man to keep up his characteV 
 so I was presently obliged to get on a car. It wa^ 
 
 w" r " 7ri ^ '°"i** ''"P " * °f ''™ for ^«veral 
 blocks Indeed, with the stops, we travelled very 
 
 1 got off and let him overtake me. 
 He turned West on One Hundredth street and 
 
 long row. When I came abreast of the stoop t „w 
 fr/l u''""''"^"' '''"'''"K •»" f" fingers in one of 
 fjai^ron"- ^"^^^^^^PO'iti-oftheb^x 
 
 to ^Z?i^ P««ntly, I saw that the box belonged 
 
 Winers T; '*\^' """" "P°"'» ^" R- 
 Wmters. I do not, however, mean to tux your brain 
 
 with anymore of Fatty's innumerable ali, Js. From 
 
i88 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 one of the report* I learned that hit nickname was 
 "Jumbo." Hereafter I thaU call him that. 
 
 I loafed up and down the street debating my next 
 move. It is a crowded street and I was not con- 
 spicuous. Many an old dodderer walks up and 
 down watching the children's games with a vague 
 glance. I was very keen to have a look at the inside 
 of Apartment 14. Thinking of Irma and Roland 
 and the necessity of accomplishing something quickly, 
 I am afraid I was not content to act with the caution 
 that Mr. Dunsany and I had agreed was necessary. 
 The most obvious suggestion was to send Jumbo a 
 fake telegram, calling him out. But in that case, 
 when he discovered the sell he would know that I 
 was on to him. I wanted to be sure of a case against 
 him first. 
 
 While I was still pondering the matter, Jumbo 
 issued forth again accompanied this time by a woman 
 of his own age and type who might have been his 
 wife. From the style of her dress I judged that 
 they were off on an expedition, and my heart beat 
 high. I made sure that they were really leaving thw 
 neighbourhood, by seeing them on an Amsterdam 
 avenue car bound down-town. 
 ^ Returning, I rang the bell in the vestibule sevi ral 
 times to make sure there was no one else at home. 
 The latch never clicked. I took advantage of some 
 one's coming out to enter, and climbed the stairs 
 until I came to the door marked 14. I knocked 
 without receiving any answer. The doors of these 
 flats are childishly easy to open unless the tenant 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 189 
 
 put* on a special lock. In thit case it had not been 
 done. A calling card properly manipulated did the 
 trick. I found myielf iniide. 
 
 I shall not go into a lengthy description of the 
 place because there was nothing to describe. It was 
 an ordinary flat of four small rooms, and from the 
 look of It might have been outfitted complete by an 
 instalhnent house. Th. -. was nothing to suggest 
 the taste of the owners, at least not until you came 
 to the kitchfn. Here there was an immense ice 
 chest crammed with the choicest and most expensive 
 eatables and drinkables. That w » where their 
 hearts lay I There was also a gi .t store of fine 
 liquors and cigars. 
 
 One bit of evidence rewarded my search, and >nly 
 one. There were no letters, no papers, not a if ip 
 of wnting of any kind, except two lines on a piece of 
 paper which I found under the blotting-pad of the 
 cheap little desk by the sitting-room window. It 
 had evidently slipped under and had been forgotten. 
 A clever crook, of course, is no cleverer than an 
 honest man. He is sure to make a little slip some- 
 where. In the two lines of writing I once more be- 
 held the famous cryptogram. I pocketed it in high 
 satisfaction. 
 
 I had got as far in my search as the imitation 
 Japanese vases on the mantel-piece. I was peeping 
 inside one of them when I heard a slight sound 
 behind me. I turned around and beheld Jumbo 
 sweUmg and purpling with silent rage in the door- 
 way. I confess I was a good deal shaken by the ap- 
 
190 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 pariticn, though I managed to put down the vase 
 with a good appearance of composure. He had 
 stolen in as noiselessly as a cat. No matter how 
 clear one's conscience may be, one is taken at a dis- 
 advantage discovered in the posture of a burglar. 
 
 For a while we looked at each other in silence. I 
 cautiously reassured myself that my gun was safe in 
 my pocket. I saw that Jumbo was making a tre- 
 mendous effort to hold himself in, and I realised 
 that he had more to fear from a showdown than I 
 had. I began to breathe more easily. I had taken 
 off my hat for coolness, and the wig was sewn inside 
 the band. He obviously knew me. Perhaps it was 
 as well for me. If he had supposed me an ordinary 
 sneak thief he might have struck me down from be- 
 hind with a blow of that mighty fist. 
 
 He began to swear at me thickly and softly. I 
 remember wondering if he were going to have an 
 apoplectic seizure, and hoping he wouldn't because 
 it would spoil my case. 
 
 "I have you covered from my pocket," I warned 
 him, in case his feelings got the better of his judg- 
 ment. 
 
 "Yah I I'm not going to touch you I" he snarled. 
 "I don't have to." 
 
 He got his rage under partial control. "Go ahead 
 and finish looking," he said with a grim sort of hu- 
 mour. 
 
 "I have finished," I said. 
 
 "Well, what did you find?" 
 
 "Nothing." 
 
Thieves' Wit 191 
 
 "You're dead right you didn't find nothing," he 
 triumphantly retorted, "because there ain't nothing 
 to find I I'm straight, I ami I don't fear nobody. 
 I don t know what you think you're after, but I'll 
 tell you this, I'm sick of this spying business I I 
 J*™ yo" to drop it, or I'll crush you as I would a 
 fly I Who are you, you— amateur I I know all 
 about you. You ain't got nothin' behind you. 
 You re a four-flusher, a cheap skate I Keep away 
 from me or I'll make you sorry you set up to be a 
 sleuth!" 
 
 AU this had quite the opposite effect of what was 
 intended. As soon as Jumbo began to brag and 
 blow, something told me he was not in the least to 
 be feared. However, for my own purposes, I as- 
 sumed an air of confusion, and looked longingly 
 toward the door behind him. He was not at aU 
 anxious to detain me. He circled away from the 
 door, keeping his front carefully turned towards me. 
 I m turn backed out of the door, and he slammed 
 It shut 
 
 As soon as I got home I made haste to translate 
 my find. It proved to me even more important than 
 1 had hoped, 
 
 "Received of Jumbo six thousand cash, three thou- 
 sand stock as my share of the blue pearis, 
 
 "Evan." 
 
 I aUowed myself a little feeling of triumph. You 
 will remember I had learned that Kenton MU- 
 
192 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 bourne's name was Evan Whittlesey. As for the 
 mention of blue pearls, there were no others but 
 Irma's in the world. This amounted to real prima 
 facie evidence then, the first bit I had secured. 
 
 Would they find out that it was in my possession? 
 It must have been temporarily mislaid, they were 
 in all other things so careful. After my visit per- 
 haps Jumbo would begin to think back. I was not 
 left long in doubt as to the matter. They struck 
 »t me with a boldness and skill I was little prepared 
 for. 
 
19 
 
 Report of J. M. #9 
 
 T June 25/A. 
 
 O-DAY as I came out of the work-people'» en- 
 trance to Dunsany's at noon Jumbo passed by 
 on the sidewalk. He tipped me a scarcely percep- 
 tible wink, and kept on, as I was with my fellow- 
 workmen. I suppose that he wished to catch me 
 in the act, so to speak. In other words he wants to 
 have it understood between us that he knows I work 
 there. It is a step towards more confidential com- 
 munications. 
 
 We met as usual to-night at the Turtle Bay Cafe, 
 but something had happened in the meantime, be- 
 cause Jumbo was glum and sour. I made believe 
 not to notice it. After he had a drink or two he 
 volunteered the reason. 
 
 "A fellow broke into my rooms to-day, a sneak 
 thief," he said. 
 
 ''No I What did you do to him ?" said I. 
 
 "Oh, I half killed him and let hun go. He didn't 
 get anything." 
 
 This was obviously no explanation of his wor- 
 ried air. I continued to question him about the 
 affair with a friend's natural curiosity, but he sud- 
 denly became suspicious, so I let it drop. I do 
 not know if this has anything to do with your 
 '93 
 
194 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 other activities, but I g^ve it for what it's worth. 
 
 Later in the evening when Jumbo's good-humour 
 was somewhat restored, he referred to our noon 
 meeting in a facetious way. 
 
 "Thought you said you were out of a job," he 
 said: 
 
 I made believe to be somewhat confused. "Ahh, 
 I wasn't going ij tell everything I knew to a 
 stranger," I said. 
 
 He made haste to commend me. He affected a 
 certain admiration of my astuteness. "You're a 
 deep one, English I I bet you could teach me a trick 
 or two I" 
 
 Have I mentioned that "English" is becoming my 
 nionaker? 
 
 By this time it is thoroughly understood between 
 Jumbo and I that we are both "good sports," i. e., 
 dependably crooked. It saves a lot of bluffing on 
 both sides. 
 
 Jumbo adced me what my job was at Dunsany's. 
 I explained how I handled all the stuff that was sent 
 in to be reset, my particular job being to remove the 
 jewels from their old settings before handing them 
 on to the expert craftsmen. 
 
 "What a chance I" said Jumbo wistfully. 'But I 
 suppose they have you watched." 
 
 "Oh, yes," I said, and I went on to explain all 
 the f 'ecautions against theft and loss, "but, of 
 course — i — " Here I made believe to be overtaken 
 by caution. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 195 
 
 Jumbo's little eyes glistened. "Of course what?" 
 he demanded. 
 
 I tried to turn the subject which only increased his 
 eagerness. He kept after me. 
 
 "If a man knew the trick of making paste dia- 
 monds," I suggested, "and could substitute one oc- 
 casionally ! Of course he'd have to make them 
 
 himself. It wouldn't be safe to buy them." 
 
 Jumbo whistled softly. "Can you make them?" 
 he asked. 
 
 I confessed that I could. 
 
 "But wouldn't the fellows get on to you, I mean 
 the experts you hand the jewels on to?" 
 
 As I have already cold you. Jumbo knows next to 
 nothmg about diamonds, so I felt safe enough m 
 my romancing. "Not likely," I said. "The paste 
 jewels are first rate imitations at first. It's only 
 after a while that they lose their lustre. Of course 
 if I was found out, I'd pass the buck to the fellow 
 who gave them to me. After the new work is re- 
 turned to the customer there's no danger until the 
 work has to be cleaned or repaired." 
 
 "How could a feUow keep all the different sizes 
 ..nd cuttings handy in his pocket?" Jumbo asked. 
 
 "In his pocket I" I said scornfully. "He'd be 
 •potted the first day! You make the job last over 
 mght, see ? Weigh, measure and test the stone you 
 want, and bring the phony stone to match it next 
 monung." 
 
 Jumbo was breathing hard in his excitement. I 
 suppose he saw an endless vista of profits, the risk 
 
196 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 all mine. "But ain't the stones all cut different?", 
 he asked. 
 
 "Say, you want to know as much as I do," I said 
 sarcastically. 
 
 He fawned on me. "You're dead right, 'boe. 
 That'f your private affair." 
 
 After we had another drink or two I madr be- 
 lieve to drop my guard completely. I left out the 
 ifs and the coulds and admitted that my game at 
 Dunsany's was as I had described it. To prove it 
 I brought out a couple of beautiful unset diamonds, 
 which completed the Conquest of Jumbo. 
 
 "It's a cinch I a cinch I" he cried. "A couple of 
 good men could make fifty thousand a year easy and 
 safe. Fifty thousand after the commission was 
 taken out." 
 
 "What commission?" I demanded. 
 
 "Thirty-three and a third per cent to them that 
 disposes of the stones," said Jumbo evasively. 
 
 I thought it wiser not to question Jumbo any far- 
 ther in that direction at present. 
 
 Jumbo went on enthusiastically. "You and me'll 
 be pardners I This is our little private graft. We 
 won't let anybody else in, see? You on the inside, 
 me out, we were made for each other 1" 
 
 The coyer I made out to be, the more friendly 
 was Jumbo. 
 
 Finally, coming down to practical matters, he 
 asked me what the stones were w'>rth. I told him 
 the market value. 
 
 "Of course I can't get anything like near that," 
 
Thieves* Wit 
 
 197 
 
 I'll 
 
 he said. "But I'll make the best dicker I can 
 let you know before I doie with them." 
 
 After tome more persuasion I finally handed over 
 the stones. I knew he wouldn't play me false as 
 long as he thought there were larger gains in pros- 
 pect. 
 
 We haggled for an hour over the division of the 
 profits. I passionately refused to consider fifty- 
 fifty, since the work and the risk were all mine. 
 Half a dozen times the budding partnership seemed 
 about to end. We finally agreed on sixty and forty. 
 By holding out as I did, I believe I have lulled Jum- 
 bo's suspicions forever. 
 
 The compact was cemented with a drink. 
 We talked on about diamonds, and I saw a new 
 idea form and grow in Jumbo's little swimming eyes. 
 Studying me speculatively, he put me throu^ a 
 lengthy cross-examination concerning my knowledge 
 of precious stones. 
 
 "You're one of these here experts yourself, ain't 
 you?" he said at last. 
 
 I modestly accepted the designation. 
 "What did you leave England for?" he asked sud- 
 denly. 
 
 "What's past is past," I said scowling. 
 
 "Sure," he said hastily. "I don't want to pry into 
 your affairs." 
 
 He changed the subject, but I could see him still 
 chewing over the same idea, whatever it was. 
 
 We were sitting as usual at one of the little tables 
 down the side of the bar-room. Jumbo excused 
 
198 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 hinuelf for • few minutet. When he came back he 
 talked about one thing and another, but it was mani- 
 festly to gain time. He glanced at the door from 
 time to time. I wondered what was saving for me. 
 
 At about ten o'clock, a man came into the place 
 alone, and went to the bar without, apparently, 
 looking at ui. 
 
 "Why there's Foxy!" cried Jumbo in great sur- 
 prise. 
 
 He hailed his friend, and had him join us at our 
 table. They overdid the casual meeting a little. I 
 began to suspect that Jumbo had telephoned this man 
 to come and join us, and I waited with no little 
 curiosity to see what would come of it. 
 
 The newcomer was a man of Jumbo's age, but 
 looking much younger because he was slender and 
 well built. He was one of the plainest men I have 
 ever seen but not in the sense of being repulsive, 
 just plain. He was a blonde with ashy, colourless 
 hair, and features of the "hatchet" type, that is to 
 say sharp nose, narrow, retreating forehead, with 
 the hair beginning some distance back. "Foxy" 
 didn't seem to fit him very well, because he looked 
 heavy-witted, stupid, but perhaps he can be sharp 
 enough when he wants. He had a dull, verbose 
 st]^e of talk, and a conceited air like a third-rate 
 actor. 
 
 Jumbo informed me with a scarcely concealed leer 
 that Foxy was a "good fellow," in other words a 
 crook like ourselves. Verily, words come to strangq 
 passes I 
 
Thieves* Wit 
 
 199 
 
 Preiently we got to talking about diamonds again, 
 and Jumbo in hit cliaracter of the broker, exhibited 
 the two he had just obtained from me. He did not, 
 however, in my hearing »ay where he had got them. 
 A look at me was a sufficient hint to say nothing 
 about our compact. Presently I began to realise 
 that Foxy in his heavier way was putting me through 
 a sharper examination than Jumbo's. My opinion 
 of hatchet-face's cleverness went up several points. 
 
 This man exhibited a considerable theoretical 
 knowledge of diamonds a i of one who might have 
 read up on the subject. For instance he knew the 
 characteristics, the weight and the ownership of the 
 world-famous stones. He had, however, nothing of 
 the eye-to-eye knowledge of the experienced jeweller. 
 
 I apparently passed his examination satisfactorily. 
 He glanced at Jumbo in a meaning way, and the lat- 
 ter said : 
 
 "Look ahere, English, you ought to be able to 
 make a good thing on the side by appraising dia- 
 monds." 
 
 My heart jumped at the possibilities this opened 
 up. Was I about to land the job of diamond expert 
 to the gang? "The profession's overcrowded," I 
 said carelessly. 
 
 "I could put you in the way of a job occasion- 
 ally," said Jumbo. "Some fellows Foxy and me 
 knows would be glad to pay for a little advice about 
 buying and selling stones." 
 
 I began to hope that the end of our labours might 
 be in sight. The next question dashed me a little.- 
 
aoo 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "Have you ever heard of Mn. ?*' 
 
 Foxy atked.* 
 
 Of course I had, she is one of my best customers. 
 I shook my head. 
 
 He gave me some details of her history which 
 would hav astonished Cora — i — could she have 
 heard them. "She has a fine string of sparklers," 
 he remarked in conclusion. 
 
 "Has she?" I said innocently. I had sold them 
 to her. 
 
 "She's at Newport now," said Foxy casually. 
 
 "Hell I what's the'use of beating round the bush I" 
 said Jumbo in his hearty way. "Ain't we all friends 
 together? It's worth a nice little sum to you, Eng- 
 lish, if you can find out and report if it's the genu- 
 ine stones that she wears around town up there." 
 
 "But I can't leave my job," I objected. 
 
 "Sure, he can't leave his job," said Jumbo at once. 
 
 "He can go up on Saturday night's boat, and come 
 back Sunday, can't he?" said Foxy. 
 
 The matter was so arranged. I suppose I am in 
 
 for it next Saturday. Will you see that Mrs. 
 
 is warned in some manner? 
 
 In the meantime I am to be taken to see the 
 "friends" that buy and sell diamonds. Here's hop- 
 ing that this may prove to be the grand headquar- 
 ters of the gang. 
 
 When we left the place. Jumbo excusing himself, 
 pulled Foxy aside, and held a brief, whispered con- 
 
 *He umed one of the moM prominent lodety women in New 
 York^B. E. 
 
Thieves' Wit 201 
 
 •ultitJon with him, which boded iU for lomebody 
 Their facet were distorted with anger. Foxy took 
 the weit-buuiid croti-town car, and we walked over 
 to the lubway. 
 
 Jumbo anxioui, I .uppote, to make me feel that 
 I had not been left out of anything, Mid : "Me and 
 Frank had a little trouble to^ay. There', a buU 
 poking his note into our private buiineu." 
 
 Hoping to hear more, I heartily joined with him 
 
 in roniigning the whole race of "buU." to perdition. 
 
 Oh, this 1. only an amateurJike," .aid Jumbo. 
 
 He .running a little private graft of hi. own. He 
 
 ain t dangerous. Me and Foxy', got it fixed to 
 
 trim hun nicely." 
 
 Thi. was all I could get. I mention it, thinking 
 that It may be of interest to you. 
 
 I suppose if either of my worthy friends ever sus- 
 pected that I was not a "good feUow," my life would 
 not be worth a jacknitraw. The same menace lurks 
 Dehmd Jumbo . swimming pig-eyes, and Foxy's dull 
 ones. But I am enjoying the spice of danger. The 
 only thuig that irks me are the tiresome hours at 
 my work bench in Dunsany's. I'll be glad when ^he 
 game becomes livelier. This is life I 
 
 J. M. 
 
 Report of A. N. 
 
 V »,fii. Juneisth. 
 
 K. Milboume came out of his boarding-house at 
 9:20 to-night. Walked East to Seventh avenue, 
 Worth on Seventh to Fifty-eighth street, and East 
 
aoa 
 
 Thieves* Wit 
 
 to • retort near Third Avenue called "Under the 
 Greenwood Tree." This it a taloon and rettaurant 
 with a large open air garden in the rear where a 
 band playt. 
 
 I waited outiide upwarda of an hour, llien I 
 went in to tee if I had my man lafe. I found there 
 wat < back entrance from the garden out to Fifty- 
 ninth street, and he wai gone. I'm lorry, but "ac- 
 cidentt will happen I" I returned to the boarding- 
 houte. Milboume came home at 1 1 :35, and judg- 
 ing from the light in hit room, went directly to bed. 
 
 A.N. 
 
ir.**""^ "^"^ ""'•"*' "« •" the first mail, I 
 called up Sadie for the purpce of teUing her to 
 have the operative A. N. tr.„,ferred to .ome other 
 u V>i-.u *^ ol'viously outlived his usefulnew 
 where Mdhoume was concerned. This was the day 
 allowing my encounter with Jumbo in his flat 
 Keenan answered the phone. He said Sadie had 
 just gone out after reading her mail. She had told 
 him she didn t know how long she would be. We 
 did not take Keenan venr far into our confident 
 He knew he was not clever, poor fellow, and -liU 
 not mind his exclusion. 
 
 His word made me vaguely uneasy, for I knew of 
 nothing to take Sadie out thai morning, and Till 
 very scrupulous about letting me know before em- 
 barking on anything new. However, there was 
 nothing to do until I heard from her, 
 
 I plunged into the work awaiting me. That was 
 considerable. I am only giving you an occasional^" 
 port or part of a report which help, on the story a 
 
 obliged to follow that never returned us anyd^ini 
 P^rtTli^etast.^''""""-^"^-^^-^-^^ 
 
 At noon I caUed the other office again. Sadie had 
 ao3 
 
204 
 
 Thieves* Wit 
 
 not come !n, said Keenan, nor had she sent any word. 
 I was downright anxious by this time. Sadie must 
 know that I would call her up, I told myself. Surely 
 she would never stay away so long without sending 
 in word, unless she were prevented. I called up 
 her sister with whom she lived. They had not 
 heard from her there since she had left as usual that 
 morning. 
 
 I spent a horrible afternoon, condemned to in- 
 action, while my brain busied itself suggesting all the 
 dreadful things that might have happened. Curi- 
 ously enough I thought only of the ordinary acci- 
 dents of the strfcets. The truth never occurred 
 to me. 
 
 The blow descended about half-past four. Ter- 
 rible as it was it was like relief to hear anything. It 
 came in the form of a special delivery letter, mailed 
 as in irony from Station W. Within were two lines 
 more of that damned cryptogram, thus: 
 
 SP JAH FUXLJG QCXQ WYE DFB&U OWK- 
 MZM&YW SY EUS UYHJL FVDH QMWZCDBK 
 QBC OYFG YB UOWX. 
 
 Meaning: 
 
 "If you return what you stole yesterday in the 
 first mail to-morrow all will be well." 
 
 On the back of the paper was written another 
 message : 
 
 "They have got me, Ben. Save me I" 
 
 This went to my breast like a knife. It was un- 
 questionably Sadie's handwriting. The wild words 
 
Thieves' Wit 205 
 
 were so unlike my clever self<ontained girl it broke 
 me aU up. For a while I could not think, could not 
 plan. I could only reproach myself for having put 
 one so dear to me in danger. 
 
 Fortunately for humans, old habits of work reas- 
 sert themselves automatically. My brain screwed 
 Itself down upon the hardest problem of my ca- 
 
 .T/i; 7.^" T ^'"^ *''«''*"* "»« '" flying up 
 to the flat on One Hundredth street. There would 
 
 be no one there. Neither could I call on the police 
 tor aid without precipitating the catastrophe. If 
 Sadie was to be saved it must be by unaided wits. 
 
 I thought of Mr. Dunsany with hope and grati- 
 tude. In him I had a line on the gang they did not 
 
 ^^r't'T.'?- .[^""""'^^^'^^y "lied up Dunsany's 
 and asked if I might speak to Mattingly in the jewel- 
 setting department. It was a risky thing to do, but 
 I had no choice. Knowing how the gang watched 
 Dunsany s it would have been suicidal for me to have 
 gone there to meet him. 
 
 I finally heard his voice at the other end of the 
 wi«.^ "This is Enderby." I said. "Do you gel 
 
 "Yes," he said, "what is it?" 
 
 Jt^U ^°J'''" '" "''"'^ *^ possibility of a curious 
 switchboard operator m Dunsany's listening on the 
 
 night? I asked in ordinary tones. 
 "Yes," he said, "same as usual." 
 
 J'/^'^'k^'^r' '*'''" P'^y^*^ ** *"* °n me," I 
 »a«a. I hey have copped my girl." 
 
206 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "Not Sadie I" he said aghast. 
 
 "Yes," I said. "It's a deuce of a note, isn't it?" 
 
 He took the hint, and his voice steadied. "What 
 do you want me to do?" 
 
 "Find out if you can without giving yourself away 
 where they have put her." 
 
 "I'll try. Where can I meet you?" 
 
 "We can't meet. But watch out for my friend 
 Joe the taxi-driver. He stands outside your joint 
 up on Lexington avenue. The number of his li- 
 cence is 11018. It's painted on the sidelamps." 
 
 "I get you," said Mr. Dunsany. 
 
 I cannot give a very clear account of the next 
 hour or two. It was like a nightmare. I knew a 
 young fellow that drove a taxi which he hired from 
 a big garage by the day. I was depending on him 
 to help me out. I had often employed him. I 
 searched him out, taking suitable precautions against 
 being trailed. He agreed to hire me his cab for 
 the night and I went to his room to change clothes 
 with him. The visored cap in itself was a pretty 
 good disguise. I had made an engagement by tele- 
 phone with my good friend Oscar Nilson, and he 
 fixed me up so my own mother wouldn't have known 
 me. 
 
 In my anxious eagerness I arrived at the Turtle 
 Bay Cafe long before the hour. None of the men 
 I was looking for had arrived, and I was compelled 
 to drive around the streets for another half hour 
 or more. I turned down the little flag on the meter. 
 
Thieves* Wit 
 
 207 
 
 to avoid taking any business. Once more I had a 
 drink at the bar without seeing any of my men. The 
 third time I returned I caught a glimpse of Mr. Dun- 
 sany's face at one of the tables, and I waited out- 
 side as if for a fare who had gone in for a drink. 
 
 After a while I could stand it no longer. My tor- 
 turing curiosity drove me inside. I went to the bar 
 taking care not to look towards the alcove where 
 the thr<-c! sat. I found I could see them in the mir- 
 ror witiiout turning my head. Mr. Dunsany, or 
 "English," as I shall call him, and "Foxy" each pre- 
 sented a side view, while Jumbo, seated farthest 
 within the alcove, faced me. Foxy was Milbourne, 
 as you have already guessed. 
 
 All the alcoves down the side of the room were 
 fuUy occupied. Even if I had been able to secure a 
 place in cither of the adjoining compartments, I 
 doubt if I could have heard any of my men's talk. 
 They had their heads very close together. There 
 was an infernal racket in the place. I had to con- 
 tent myself with watching Jumbo's lips, wishing 
 vainly that I might read them. I had to be care- 
 ful not to seem to stare, for at any moment he might 
 raise his eyes and meet mine in the mirror. My 
 face was revealed in every line by the strong lights 
 behind the bar. 
 
 As far as I could make out Jumbo and Foxy were 
 trying to urge something on English to which he re- 
 sisted. His reluctance was so well done I could not 
 decide if it were real or assumed. Once more I was 
 compeUed to pay tribute to my friend and assistant. 
 
208 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 What a lucky chance it was that had led me to him. 
 He was a wonder! 
 
 The other two were an ugly-looking pair at that 
 moment, the one face gross and mean, the other 
 sharp and mean. They had dropped their masks. 
 I wondered now how I could have thought even for 
 a moment that Milbourne was stupid. His long 
 nose, his dose-set eyes, the whole eager thrust-for- 
 ward of his gaunt face suggested the evil intelligence 
 of the devil himself. Not for nothing was this man 
 called Foxy. 
 
 After a while they seemed to come to an under- 
 standing. Jumbo sat back and putting his hand in 
 his pocket, looked around for the waiter. I made 
 a quiet exit to my cab outside where I waited the 
 turn of events. 
 
 They must have had another drink for it was still 
 some moments before they issued from between the 
 swinging doors. I saw English's eyes go at once to 
 the number on my side lamps, which he read off with 
 visible satisfaction. He gave me a fleeting glance as 
 I sat nodding on the driver's seat. English was 
 making out to show the effects of his liquor a little. 
 The odier two were cold sober. 
 
 "Say, boys," said English, "let's taxi it up; I'll 
 blow." 
 
 I made believe to come to life, hearing that, and 
 hopping out touched my cap and opened the door. 
 
 Foxy frowned and held back. "What's the use ?" 
 he grumbled. 
 
 "Aw, come on," said English. "I ain't had an 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 209 
 
 His slightly foolish air 
 
 auto ride since I landed." 
 was beautifully done. 
 
 Neither Jumbo nor Foxy liked the idea, but they 
 liked less calling attention to themselves by a dis- 
 cussion m the street. So they all piled in. Jumbo 
 pve me a number on Lexington avenue which would 
 be about half a mile North of where we then were. 
 There was a hole in the front glass at my ear for 
 the purpose of allowing fare to communicate with 
 driver. With the noise of the engine, however, I 
 could hear no more than the sound of their voices 
 It seemed to me that both Foxy and Jumbo were 
 admonishing English not to drink so much if he 
 couldn't carry it better. 
 
 I found my number on a smallish brown stone 
 dwelling facing the great sunken railway yards, and 
 drew up before it. It was one of a long row of 
 houses, all exactly alike. 
 As my fares climbed out, English said to Jumbo: 
 Horv long will we be in here?" 
 "Not long," was the answer. 
 "Then wait," said English to me. A glance of 
 mtelligence passed between us. 
 
 "You must like to throw your money away," 
 grumbled Foxy, as t:.ey mounted the steps. 
 They were admitted by a negro man-servant. 
 I examined the surroundings more particularly. 
 The excavating of the great yards opposite has dam- 
 aged the neighbourhood as a residential district and 
 the tidy little houses were somewhat fallen from 
 their genteel estate. SmaU, cheap shops had opened 
 
210 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 in one or two of the basements, and beauty parlours, 
 or dry-cleaning establishments on the parlour floors. 
 Only one or two houses of the row retained a self- 
 respecting air, and of these the house I waited be- 
 fore was one. The stone stoop had been renovated, 
 the door handles were brightly polished, and the 
 windows cleaned. Simple, artistic curtains showed 
 within. In fact it had all the earmarks of the 
 dwelling of a well-to-do old-fashioned family which 
 had refused to give up its old home when the first 
 breath of disfavour ,fell upon the neighbourhood. 
 
 I should further explain that the houses were 
 three story and basement structures with mansard 
 roofs over the cornices. At the comer of the street, 
 that is to say three doors from where my cab was 
 standing, there was a new building four stories high, 
 which contained a brighdy lighted cafe on the street 
 level and rooms above. In other words what New 
 Yorkers call a Raines' Law Hotel. 
 
 The three men remained inside the house about 
 forty-five minutes, I suppose. It seemed like three 
 times that space to me, waiting. They appeared at 
 last, talking in slightly heightened tones, which sug- 
 gested that they had partaken of spirituous refresh- 
 ment inside. Their talk as far as I could hear it 
 was all in respectful praise of a lady they had just 
 left. She was a "good fellow," a "wise one," "long- 
 headed." 
 
 At the cab door they hesitated a moment as if in 
 doubt of their next move. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 211 
 
 "Let's go back to the 
 
 "It*, early," said Jumbo. 
 Turtle Bay." 
 The others agreed. 
 
 English let them get in first "Back to the Turtle 
 Bay," he said to me. His lips added soundlessly: 
 "She is here r ' 
 
 When they got out again, English paid me off. 
 His expressive eyes said clearly that he wished to 
 speak to me further. The others stood close, and 
 we dared not take any risk. 
 
 I thanked him, touching my cap. "Any time you 
 want me, gen'lemen, call up Plaza 6771," I said. 
 They went inside. 
 
 I had given the first telephone number that came 
 into my head. It was that of an artist friend of 
 mine who had a studio apartment on Fifty-ninth 
 street. I hastened up there in the car, and routed 
 him out of bed. Artists are used to these interrup- 
 tions. I had a little difficulty, however, in making 
 myself known to a man half asleep. He was decent 
 about it, though. He gave me tobacco, and telling 
 me to make myself comfortable, went back to bed. 
 In an hour or so the telephone bell rang, and to 
 my joy I heard English's voice on the wire. 
 "This you?" he said. We named no names. 
 "I get you," I said. "Fire away." 
 He plunged right into his story and though plainly 
 labouring under excitement, was admirably clear and 
 succinct. 
 
 "She is confined in that house. She was lured 
 there this morning by a forged letter from you in- 
 
212 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 ttructing her to go there for certain evidence. I did 
 not see her. I understood from their talk that so 
 far she is all right." 
 
 ^ "The house is occupied by a woman they call Lo- 
 rina or Mrs. Mansfield. Handsome, blonde woman 
 of forty ; great force of character. She is a member 
 of the gang, perhaps the leader of it. Anyway, they 
 all defer to her. She has a better head than either 
 Jumbo or Foxy. I was taken there to-night for the 
 purpose of having her size me up. Apparently she 
 approved of me." 
 
 "I understood th^t the girl is safe until to-morrow 
 monung. Then they plan" — his voice began to 
 shake here — "to — to do away with her." 
 
 "Unless I come across with the paper they want?" 
 I interrupted. 
 
 "Whether you do or not," he said grimly. "They 
 have no intention of letting her go. They plan to 
 get you, too, to-morrow." 
 "How?" 
 
 "I don't know. I was not consulted." 
 "Go on." 
 
 "The — the job they are trying to force on me," 
 he faltered, "is to dispose of her body. They chose 
 me because I am not suspected by you, not followed. 
 I am to carry it out of the house piecemeal Oh — 1 
 it's horrible I" 
 
 "Steady 1" I said. "I promise you that won't be 
 necessary. Any more particulars?" 
 
 "Mrs. Mansfield lives alone," he went on. "She 
 has three coloured servants, two maids and a man." 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 213 
 
 "Did jrou find out where they slept?" 
 "Yet. The two maids on the top floor in the 
 front room, the man somewhere in the basement." 
 Are they m the gang?" 
 
 *!. "?°' ^^^^ ^° "°^ ^°'^ *'•"* ^*'»» Farrell is in 
 the house. But the man, I understood, could be de- 
 pcndcd on absolutely. Which means that he is 
 ready for any black deed. He is as ugly and strong 
 as a gorilla." * 
 
 thc'Sc ?"''°"* ^"^ "'''" '"*^™"' arrangements of 
 "On the first floor there is a parlour in front, din- 
 ing-room and pantry behind. On the second floor 
 the front room is a sitting-room or oflice. The 
 telephone is here. Mrs. Mansfield sleeps in the rear 
 room on this floor. Between her bedroom and the 
 office there I, an interior room, and that is where 
 M.S, Farrell is confined. This room can be entered 
 only through Mrs. Mansfield's bedroom." 
 'Did you notice the lodes on the doors?" 
 'No. There was nothing out of the common. On 
 the front door a Yale lock of the ordinary pattern." 
 Anything moi-e?" 
 "One thing. Mrs. Mansfield goes armed. She 
 has a small automatic pistol with a maxim silencer 
 which IS evidently her favourite toy. I hope I wt 
 what you wanted. They were at me every minute. 
 1 could not look around much." 
 
 ''No one could have done better I" I said heartily. 
 What do you want me to do now ?" 
 Where are you?" 
 
ai4 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 In my own botrdingJiouie. The party at the 
 Turtle Bay loon broke up. The telephone here it 
 in the restaurant in the batement, and everybody 
 •leepa upatairs." ' 
 
 "You had better stay at home until morning," I 
 •aid, after thinking a moment. "It ii very likely 
 that they are having you watched to-night." 
 "But I muit do something. I couldn't sleep." 
 "There is really nothing you can do now. Stay 
 where you can hear the telephone and I'll call you if 
 I need you. I'U caU you anyway when I get her out 
 »«fe. If you do not hear from me by say, three 
 odock, go to police headquarters, tell them all the 
 circumstances, and have the house surrounded and 
 forced." 
 
 "I understand." 
 
 "To-morrow morning if all goes weU, you must 
 go to work as usual. I don't mean that we shall 
 lose aU our work so far if I can help it. They must 
 not subject you." 
 
 "Don't take too big a chance, Ben, the girl " 
 
 "Don't worry. The girl is worth fifty cases to 
 me. But I mean to save both." 
 
ai 
 
 I ^^"^ Jo"' for wme thing. I needed and 
 
 talk I was back in front of the Lev!n<>»». 
 hou.e, .till at the wheel of my taxi I hTk *''""' 
 changed my clothe, in th7.?e.„til VSr"; 
 want the chauffeur', uniform Th^oVn larfert 
 ^^« m any deacription that might be circulSeS L 
 
 P«Ming the hou.e .lowly I jurveved it fmm „- 
 menttoroof. All the JndowTTel d^T 'xhe' 
 
 the .e^oln r ^ ^'V^ ^"'- The first floor and 
 the .econd floor wmdow. were do.ed. The two 
 
 rictsr^str '''- -'''-' -- »^--'« - 
 
 Turning the comer, I came to a stop outside A^ 
 aTe'r r.°^ f V'-n I have menti^Sed It wt 
 
 Seer Thtnil Tu' u' ''"'' '" »«* °'<^«red I 
 ro^ V ^ """* *''" ''°*«' "Ki^t" were in this 
 
 wS ^°\"'*"''d from a narrow lobby from 
 
 was -mtt K P""""* " n«»""t when the waiter 
 toT-i"'.^™" *"'"''»• In the lobby I turned 
 
 ««irfc There was no one to question me. 
 
ai6 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 In one tide pocket I carried • imall but efficient 
 kit of tooU, in the other ■ bottle of chloroform and 
 a roll of cotton. My pistol was in my hip pocket. 
 
 I went up the three flights without meeting any 
 one, lighted by a red fl^obe on each landing. There 
 was a fourth flight ending at a closed door which I 
 figured must give on the roof. It was bolted on the 
 inside, of course, and I presently found myself out 
 under the stan. 
 
 This building, you will remember, was half a 
 story higher than the row of dwellings which ad- 
 joined it. It was therefore a drop of only six feet 
 from the parapet of one roof to the parapet of the 
 other. Easy enough to go; a little more difficult 
 perhaps to return that way. From the parapet I 
 stepped noiselessly to the roof of the first dwelling, 
 and crossed the two intervening roofs to the house 
 I meant to enter. I had nearly two hours before 
 Mr. Dunsany would put the police in motion, ample 
 tiue, I judged. Probably the first few minutes in 
 the house would decide success or failure. 
 
 There was a flat scuttle in the roof which, as I 
 expected, was fastened from within. I could have 
 opened it with my tools, but it seemed to me quicker 
 and sp*er to enter by one of the windows in the 
 mansard. In any case I would have to deal with the 
 maids on that floor, and it was likely they slept be- 
 hind locked doors. 
 
 The cornice made a wide, flat ledge in front of 
 these windows. It was a simple task to let myself 
 down the sloping mansard to the ledge and creep to 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 217 
 
 the window. Had I been seen from the pavement 
 •croM the way it would have ruined all, but the 
 •treet was deserted at far at 1 could >ee up and 
 down. There were no houses opposite. 
 
 Pausing with my head inside the window I heard 
 heavy breathing from the back of the room. I cau- 
 tiously let myself in. Then I could distinguish two 
 breathing, side by side, and knew that both women 
 were sleeping in the same bed. I got out my cot- 
 ton and chloroform. Fortunately for me negroes 
 are generally heavy sleepers. I iet each woman 
 breathe in the fumes before the cotton touched her 
 face. They drifted away with scarcely a movement. 
 1 left the saturated cotton on their faces without any 
 cone to retain the fumes. In this way they could 
 not take any injury. The potency of the drug would 
 soon be dissipated in the atmosphere. 
 
 It was a hot night and the door o.' their room 
 stood open. I didn't see until too late, that a chair 
 had been placed against the door to prevent the draft 
 from the window slamming it. I stumbled over the 
 chair. It made little noise, but the jar caused me 
 to drop the precious bottle, and before I recovered 
 It the contents was wasted. This was a serious loss. 
 I crept down the first flight of stairs. This 
 landed me on the floor where the mistress slept. As 
 I approached the door of her room a shrill yapping 
 started up inside. I cursed the animal under my 
 breath. English had not told me that the woman 
 kept a dog. It made things twice as difficult. The 
 noise sounded through the house loud enough, it 
 
2l8 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 seemed to me, to wake the dead. I heard somebody 
 move inside the room, and I hastened down the 
 next flight of stairs, and crouched at the back of the 
 hall outside the dining-room door. 
 
 Ov^r my head I heard the bedroom door unlocked, 
 and presently the upper hall was flooded with light. 
 I was safely out of reach of its rays. I oiiered up 
 a silent prayer that the lady would not be moved to 
 descend the stairs, for I pictured her carrying the 
 automatic with the silencer. True, I had my own 
 gun, but for obvious reasons I was averse to firing it. 
 
 She did not come 'down. The dog apparently was 
 satisfied that all was well, and ceased his yapping. 
 From his voice I judged the animal to be a Pomera- 
 nian. Mistress and dog finally returned to the bed- 
 room and the door was locked again. With the 
 dog and the lock on the door my problem was no 
 easy one. I had to enter that way before I could 
 reach my £^rl. She left the light burning in the up- 
 stairs hall. 
 
 Before attempting to deal with the mistress it 
 seemed to me necessary to dispose of the negro in 
 the basement. I went on downstairs not at all rel- 
 ishing the prospect. There were swing doors both 
 at the top and the bottom of the basement stairs 
 which had to be opened with infinite caution to avoid 
 a squeak. On the stairs between it was as dark as 
 Erebus. On every step I half expected to find the 
 gorilla-like creature crouching in wait for me, but 
 when I finally edged through the lower door I was 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 219 
 
 The 
 
 reassured by the sou tl ot a ruiibling snore, 
 dog had not awaken* '1 him. 
 
 He slept in the front nom. This had originally 
 been the dining-room of the house. I cautiously 
 opened the door and looked in. A certain amount 
 of light came through the area windows from the 
 street lamps. The negro's bed was against the wall 
 between me and the windows. These were the win- 
 dows which were heavily barred outside. 
 
 When I saw the bars and felt the door which was 
 a heavy hardwood affair, and had a key in it, I 
 thought it would be sufficient to lock the man in. 
 You see I was pretty well assured that none of these 
 people would care to make a racket. However, 
 there was another door leading to '.he pantry, thence 
 to the kitchen. This had no lock on it, and I was 
 compelled to find another means of confining him. 
 
 Exploring the rear of the basement I came across 
 a trunk in the back hall with a stout strap around 
 it. This I softly removed and appropriated. Go- 
 ing on through the kitchen out into the yard I found 
 stout clothesline stretched from side to side. I cut 
 down several lengths of it. 
 
 While I was in the yard I made an important dis- 
 covery respecting the lay of the back of the house. 
 The lower story extended out some fifteen feet above 
 the upper floors. The mistress' windows therefore 
 opened on a flat extension roof. These windows 
 were opened and unbarred. There was no light 
 within the room. 
 
 I returned with the strap and the lengths of rope 
 
220 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 to the negro's sleeping-room. He was still snoring 
 vociferously. He lay on his back with his brawny 
 arms flung above his head like an infant, and his 
 great chest rose like a billow with every inhalation. 
 The bed was a small iron on<^ with low head and 
 foot. It looked strong, but I knew that these things 
 were generally of flimsy construction. 
 
 First I laid my gun on the floor where I could 
 snatch it up at need. Then with infinite care I 
 passed my long trun)i strap under the bed and over 
 his ankles, and drew it dose, but not tight. This 
 was intended for a merely temporary entanglement. 
 He never stirred. I made a noose out of one of 
 the pieces of rope and passed it carefully, carefully 
 over his two hands. During this he began to stir. 
 The snores were interrupted. I passed the rope 
 around the iron bar at the head of the bed, and as 
 he came fully awake I gave it a sharp jerk binding 
 his hands hard and fast. I knotted the rope. 
 
 I flung a pillow over his head, and sat on it to still 
 any cries while I made a permanent job of trussing 
 him up. His great frame heaved and plunged on 
 the bed in a paroxysm of brutish terror, finding him- 
 self bound. You have seen a cat with a rope around 
 it. Imagine a mad creature thirty times the bulk of 
 a cat. But everything held. The bed rocked and 
 bounced on the floor, but there were four closed 
 doors between me and the woman sleeping up-stairs, 
 and I hoped the sound might not carry. 
 
 It was all over in a moment or two. The ropes 
 were ready to my hand. Every time he heaved up 
 
Thieves' Wit 221 
 
 I passed a fresh turn under him. Presendy I had 
 him bound so tight he could not move a muscle. 
 True to the character of his race, he gave up the 
 struggle all at once and lay inert. There was a 
 moment in which he might have cried out when I 
 changed the pillow for a gag made out of the sheet, 
 but by that time he was gasping for breath. I knot- 
 ted the gag firmly between his teeth. Smothered 
 groans issued from under it. I went over all the 
 ropes twice to make sure nothing could slip. I ex- 
 pected, of course, that he would wriggle out in the 
 end, but I only needed a little while. 
 
 Before proceeding further I gave my stretched 
 nerves a moment or two to relax. The big task was 
 still to come. Finally I stole up-stairs again. When 
 I closed the doors behind me I could no longer hear 
 the negro's smothered groans. The house was per- 
 fectly quiet. As I softly crept up on all fours stair 
 to stair I was busily debating how to open the at- 
 tack. Locked door, silent gun and dog made the 
 odds heavy against me. 
 
 By the time I was half way up the main stairway 
 I had made a plan. Rising to my feet I mounted 
 the rest of the way with a firm tread. Instandy the 
 little dog inside broke into a frantic barking. I 
 heard his mistress spring out of bed. I hastily un- 
 screwed the electric light bulb, and throwing a leg 
 over the banisters slid noiselessly down to the first 
 floor again. As before I sought the security of the 
 back halJ. 
 
 She unhesitatingly opened the door— she was a 
 
222 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 bold one. I heard her catch her breath to find the 
 hall in darkness. Her hand shot out, I hea-d the 
 click of the switch, but of course there was no light. 
 Instantly she began shooting. The light "ping" of 
 her weapon had an inexpressibly deadly sound. The 
 bullets thudded viciously into wood and plaster. 
 From the direction of the latter scunds, she was 
 shooting along the upper hall and down the stairs. 
 
 I knew she had ten shots, not more, and I counted 
 them. After the tenth, running forward in the hall, 
 I set up a horrid groaning. She was silent above. 
 I kept up the groaning, and threshed about on the 
 floor alongside the stairs. 
 
 Suddenly she came running down. This w&s what 
 I had prayed she mig^t do. She reached the switch 
 in the lower hall and light flared out. Instantly I 
 sprang up the outside of the stairway, vaulted over 
 the banisters and stood half way up the stairs, cut- 
 ting her of!, I hoped, from additional ammunition. 
 
 She stood at the foot of the stairs gun in hand, 
 glaring up at me. I saw a large, handsome woman 
 with a rope of coarse blonde hair as thick as my 
 wrist hanging down her back and eyes like lambent 
 blue flames. By her snarl I saw that I had the ad- 
 vantage for the moment, but her eyes never quailed. 
 To give her her due she was as bold as a lion. I 
 know of few other women of her age who would look 
 handsome under the circumstances. She was wear- 
 ircr a pink negligee robe over her nightdress. Her 
 feet were bare, they were pretty feet, too. The lit- 
 tle dog sheltered himself behind her skirts barking 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 223 
 
 madly. I saw the woman glance down the hall. 
 No doubt she was wondering why the noise didn't 
 bring the negro. 
 
 "What do you want?" she demanded in a high and 
 mighty tone. 
 
 "Never mind what I want," I returned. "Do 
 what I tell you." 
 
 "If you let me go to my room I'll give you what 
 money I have," she said. 
 
 "And load up again," I said smiling. 
 
 "You can watch me. I have two hundred dollars 
 in the house. It's all you get, anyway." 
 
 "That's not what I came for." 
 
 By that she knew me. She bared her fine white 
 teeth and raised her gun. 
 
 "It's empty," I said laughing. "I counted the 
 shots." 
 
 She swore with heartfelt bitterness like a man. 
 
 I drew my own gun. "This one is loaded," I 
 said. 
 
 I descended a step or two to enforce my orders. 
 I pointed the gun at her. "Open the front doorl" 
 I commanded. "Go into the vesti'- ile and close it 
 behind you." 
 
 My purpose was to lock her between the two sets 
 of doors while I searched for Sadie. She scowled 
 at me sullenly, and for a moment I thought I had 
 her beaten; she seemed about to obey. But reflect- 
 ing perhaps that I didn't want to bring in outsiders 
 any more than she, she tork a chance. Suddenly 
 putting down her head she ran like a deer for the 
 
224 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 rear hall, the little dog whimpering in terror at her 
 heels. 
 
 The door at the head of the basement stairs 
 banged open and she plunged down, calling on her 
 servant. I had to make a quick decision. The way 
 was presumably open to Sadie, but there were plenty 
 of knives in the kitchen and if she liberated the man 
 I would have to fight my way out of the house against 
 the two of them. I ran after her. A rough house 
 in the basement followed, doors slamming, chairs 
 overturned, and the ceaseless yelping of the dog. 
 
 She ran into the front room, saw the negro's pre- 
 dicament, and ran back through the pantries to the 
 kitchen. I was close at her heels. She knew just 
 where to find her knife, and she was out of the room 
 again by the other door before I could stop her. 
 She ran back through the hall to the front room, 
 slamming both doors in my face to delay me. She 
 tried to lock the second door, but I got my foot in it. 
 
 She flung herself on the negro, sawing at his bonds 
 with the knife. Fortunately there was some light 
 in this room. I dragged her off the bed. L had 
 only one arm free on account of the gun. She tore 
 herself free from me, and turning, came at me stab- 
 bing with the knife. I thought my last hour had 
 come. I fired over her head. She ran out of the 
 room. 
 
 ! stopped to look at my prisoner's bonds. I found 
 them intact. In bending over him my foot struck 
 something on the floor. I picked tip her gun. She 
 had been obliged to drop it in order to use the knife. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 225 
 
 I ran after her. As I put foot on the upper stairs 
 I heard her slam her bedroom door and turn the 
 key. So there I had my work to do all over — but 
 not quite all, for I had the gun now, and it was 
 hardly likely she would have another. 
 
22 
 
 1 HAMMERED on the door with the butt of 
 my revolver — a little noise more or less 
 scarcely mattered now, and commanded her to 
 open it. 
 
 She was not so easily to be intimidated. Through 
 the door she consigned me to the nether world. "If 
 you break in the door I'll croak the girl," she threat- 
 ened. 
 
 I believed her capable of it. Remembering the 
 knife she carried, I shuddered. 
 
 We spent swne moments in exchanging amenities 
 through the door. I wished to keep her oca- 'ed, 
 while I threshed around in my head for some ex- 
 pedient to trap her. 
 
 "All right 1" I cried, giving the door a final rat- 
 tle. "I'll get the poker from the furnace." 
 
 She laughed tauntingly. 
 
 Of course I had no such intention. I had sud- 
 denly remembered the open windows on the roof 
 of the extension. It seemed easier to drop from 
 above than climb from below, so I went up-stairs. 
 
 The room over Mrs. Mansfield's bedroom was 
 unlocked and untenanted. I took, off my shoes at 
 the threshold, and crept across with painful care to 
 avoid giving her warning below. Unfortunately the 
 windows were closed. I lost precious time open- 
 
 336 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 227 
 
 ing one of them a fraction of an inch at a time. 
 FinaUy I was able to lean out. She had lighted 
 up her room. I could see the glow on the sill be- 
 low. To my great satisfaction I saw that she had 
 pulled down the blinds, without, however, closing 
 the window under me. For while I looked the blind 
 swayed out a little in the draft. Evidently the pos- 
 sibihty of an attack from that side had not occurred 
 to her. 
 
 It was a drop of about fourteen feet from the 
 window sill on which I leaned to the roof of the ex- 
 tension below. I dared not risk it. Even suppose 
 1 escaped injury, the noise of my faU would warn 
 her, and the moments it would take me to recover 
 my balance might give her time to execute her foul 
 plan. I believed that she had my girl locked in 
 the inner room (else I should surely have heard 
 from Sadie) . This would give me one second, while 
 she was unlocking the door— but only one second. 
 
 1 he bed m the room I was in was made up. Al- 
 ways with the same precautions of silence I fashioned 
 a rope sufficiently long out of the two sheets and 
 the cotton spread. I fastened the end of the rope 
 to the leg of a heavy bureau beside the window, and 
 carefully paid it out over the sill. Before trusting 
 myself to it I plamied every movement in advance 
 1 must let myself down face to the building, I 
 decided, until I had almost reached the roof. Then 
 I must drop, and with the reflex of the same move- 
 ment spring into the woman's room. 
 
 It worked all right. I was already inside when 
 
228 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 ihe turned around. It wa* well that it wat so, be- 
 cause the door into the inner room stood wide. I 
 •aw my girl lying on a couch. Like a flash the 
 woman had the lights out. Quick as a cat she was 
 through the door, knife in hand. But I had got my 
 bearings with that one glimpse. I was hard upon 
 her. I flung my arms around her from behind, pin- 
 ioning her close. I dragged her back into the outer 
 room. She was surprisingly strong for a woman, 
 but I was just a little stronger. She spit out curses 
 like an angry cat. 
 
 I dragged her , across the room to where the 
 switch was. I had to take an arm from her to search 
 for it. She renewed her struggles. It took half a 
 dozen attempts. Once she escaped me altogether. 
 She still had the knife. I do not know how I man- 
 aged to escape injury. She slit my coat with it. 
 
 At last I got the blessed light turned on. She 
 was still jabbing at me with the knife, but I could 
 see what I was doing now. The little dog fastened 
 his teeth in my ankle. I kicked him across the room. 
 
 Between the two doors I have mentioned there was 
 a third door, which evidently gave on a closet. It 
 had a key in it. I dragged my captive to it, and 
 somehow managed to get it open. I flung her in, 
 knife and all, slammed the door, locked it, and 
 leaned against the frame sobbing for breath. I was 
 half blinded by the sweat in my eyes. The woman 
 was all in, too, or I never should have got the door 
 closed. For a while she lay where she had fallen 
 without sound or movement When his mistress 
 
Thieves' Wit 229 
 
 diMppe«>ed the dog ran under the bed. Hi. little 
 pipe was now to hoane he could tcarcely make him- 
 self heard. 
 
 Presently the woman recovered her forcei. 
 Springing up, the hurled herielf against the door 
 with as much force as she could gather in that nar- 
 row space. The door opened out, and the lock 
 was a flimsy one. I saw that I couldn't keep her 
 there for long. I ran into the inner room. 
 
 My dearest girl was lying on a couch, fully 
 dressed and unfettered, but strangely inert, stupe- 
 hed. I was terrified by her aspect. However, her 
 body was warm and she was breathing, though not 
 naturaUy. She was not wholly unconscious. Her 
 head moved on the pillow, and her misty eyes sought 
 mine with a faint returning gleam of sentience. Ob- 
 yiously she had been drugged, and the effert was 
 just now beginning to wear off. 
 
 I could not stop to restore her there. I gathered 
 her up m my arms, snatched up her hat which was 
 lying near, and ran out through the bedroom. I 
 had no more than got the bedroom door locked be- 
 hind me, when the door of the closet burst open, 
 and the woman fell out into the room. Sh,; immcdi- 
 ately threw herself against the other door, but as 
 regarded diat, my mind was easier. It was a much 
 Heavier affair, and it opened towards her. I need 
 not point out ihat there is a considerable difference 
 between bursting a door out, and pulling it in. 
 
 I earned my precious burden down the stairs, 
 murmurmg phrases in her ear that I did not know 
 
230 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 I had at my command. She commenced to weep, a 
 ver> encouraging sign. I believe I wept with her. 
 She was dearer to me than my life. 
 
 I paused at the front door to try to bring her to 
 somewhat before venturing out into the street. Un- 
 fortimately there was no water within reach. I was 
 afraid to take much time. The woman upstairs 
 had obtained some kind of a weapon with which she 
 was battering the door. In her insane passion she 
 had forgotten all considerations of prudence. She 
 finally managed to split one of the panels; the key, 
 however, was safe in my pocket. She hurled im- 
 precations after us. 
 
 I opened the outer door a little, and the fresh air 
 revived my dearest girl marvellously. Presently 
 she was able to stand with a little assistance. Her 
 first conscious act was to pin on her hat with a pite- 
 ous assumption of her usually composed manner. 
 For a long time she could not speak, but she knew 
 me now, and leaned on me trustfully. 
 
 I knew how best to reach her. "Brace up!" I 
 whispered urgently. "Pull yourself together. I 
 need you. Show me what you can do 1" 
 
 She smiled as much as to say she was ready for 
 anything. Such was her temper. 
 
 We went out, closing both doors behind us. I 
 fully expected to see a knot of the curious on the 
 steps, attracted by the strange sounds from within. 
 But the street was still empty. There must be a 
 lot of strange things happening that no one ever 
 knows of. We did not meet anybody until we got 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 231 
 
 around the corner. Here a policeman stood idly 
 •winging his club and staring at the taxicab, specu- 
 lating no doubt on the mystery of its apparent aban- 
 donment and wondering what he ought to do about 
 it. The back room of the saloon was now closed. 
 I saluted him, inwardly praying that he would 
 not be led to look down at my feet. I had man- 
 aged to keep my cap through all vicissitudes, but 
 I had no shoes on. I briskly opened the door, and 
 helped Sadie in. 
 
 "Here you are, Miss," said I. 
 Then I ran completely around the car to avoid the 
 bluecoat, and cranked her. Even then I could hear 
 in the stillness the muffled sound of the woman'* 
 blows on the door. The policeman was apparently 
 unaware of anything amiss. Fortunately my en- 
 gine popped at the first turn. The policeman's sus- 
 picions of me were gathering, but he was a slow- 
 thinking specimen. 
 
 "Hold on a minute, fellow," he said at last. 
 The car was then in motion, and I made believe 
 not to hear him. Apparently he did not think it 
 worth while to raise an alarm. 
 
 I cannot tell you with what a feeling of thank- 
 fuhiess I left that neighbourhood behind me. 
 
 I took Sadie direct to her sister's. We found 
 that young woman in a pretty state of fluster. She 
 was of an emotional type, very different from the 
 matter-of-fact Sadie. Maybe she didn't give it to 
 me for leading her darling into danger 1 But I was 
 happy enough to be able to take it with a grin. 
 
232 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 Sadie by this time could speak for herself. She took 
 my part. 
 
 I telephoned from here to English at his board- 
 ing-house as I had agreed. I still had more than 
 half an hour to the good. 
 
 He gave a restrained whoop when he heard my 
 voice. "You've got her!" he cried. "You're both 
 all right?" 
 
 "Right as rain I" 
 
 "Ben, you're a wonder!" 
 
 At that moment I iwas quite prepared to believe it. 
 
 "How did you manage it?" he asked. 
 
 "Can't tell you now. The game is only start- 
 mg." 
 
 "What am I to do?" 
 
 "Go to bed. Above all keep them from suspect- 
 ing you. The whole case depends on you now. I 
 will write you care Dunsany's on Monday." 
 
 "Take care of yourself I" 
 
 "Same to you I" 
 
 Warning the girls to be ready to start for the 
 country in an hour, I borrowed a pair of brother-in- 
 law's shoes and returned the taxi to its garage. I 
 then went home and washed and dressed myself in 
 my own clothes. Afterwards I got out my own lit- 
 tle car and went back for Sadie, By this time the 
 dawn was breaking. It was Sunday. 
 
 I found Sadie quite her own self again, and flatly 
 rebellious at being ordered to give up the game and 
 retire to the country. In vain I explained to her that 
 theac! people Bad ^ar Jbacks against ihe wall now, 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 233 
 
 and that our lives were not worth a farthing dip if 
 they ever caught sight of us. Sister was now on 
 my side, not, however, without a few back shots at 
 the one who had first got her Sadie into the crooks' 
 bad books. It was not until I said that I was my- 
 self going to lie low for a while that Sadie gave in. 
 I'm afraid at that, that her opinion of me suffered 
 a fall for the time being. 
 
 The dearest girl was furious when she learned 
 that I had almost been frightened out of my wits 
 by the message from her they had sent me, so much 
 so that I had been prepared to drop the whole case 
 to save her. 
 
 "That was what they were after I" she cried. "I 
 had to write it, of course, because she held a pistol 
 to my head. But I was sure you would understand. 
 If I had thought for a moment that you would let 
 ;it interfere with the case I would have let her shoot." 
 I shuddered. One did not know whether to 
 Traise or blame such game folly. However, I reg- 
 istered a little vow privately not to let Sadie's en- 
 thusiasm lead her into danger again. Meanwhile I 
 flugged her right there with sister looking on. She 
 prompdy slapped my face— but not so hard as usual. 
 I took the sisters to that same little sanatorium 
 at Amityville, Long Island, where Sadie had been 
 before with Miss Hamerton. The doctor-proprie- 
 tor was an old friend of mine. A single warning 
 word to him, and I knew they would be as safe as 
 I could guard them myself. 
 Notwithstanding Sadie's violent objections (she 
 
234 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 •aid she had been lured to Amltyyille under false 
 pretenses), I motored right back to town. I did 
 intend to lay off for a day or two but I had to put 
 my office in order first. It was about eight o'clock 
 when I got back to Manhattan. I put up my car 
 and had an excellent breakfast. I thought if I was 
 going to be plugged it might as well be on a full 
 stomach. I did not deceive myself as to the risk I 
 ran in visiting my office, but it was absolutely neces- 
 sary for me to secure certain papers and destroy 
 others. ' 
 
 I took a taxi down and ordered the man to wait. 
 I cleaned everything up in case the place should be 
 entered during my absence. What papers I meant 
 to take with me I deposited in a satchel, and took 
 the precaution of strapping it to my wrist. Then 
 I locked up and returned down stairs. I found that 
 my chauffeur had moved away from the doorway a 
 little, consequently I was exposed for a moment or 
 two on the sidewalk. 
 
 It was sufficient. I heard that deadly little 
 "ping" and simultaneously a sound like a slap on 
 bare flesh. I did not know I was hit, but I fell down. 
 Then a pain like the searing of a hot iron passed 
 through my shoulder. 
 
 "I'm shot I" I cried involuntarily. 
 
 I realised that I was not seriously hurt. How- 
 ever, I had no mind to get up and make mjrself a 
 target for more. I made believe to close my eyes, 
 and lay still. My mind worked with a strange dear- 
 nessw I saw the woman across the street. She was 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 235 
 
 poorly dressed with a shawl over her head, but I 
 recognised the stature and the curves of my antag- 
 onist of the night before. 
 
 The usual gaping crowd gathered. Nobody had 
 heard the shot but me. While all eyes were di- 
 rected on me the woman coolly walked away across 
 the park, tossing the gun into the middle of a bush 
 as she went. I said nothing. It was no part of 
 my game to have her arrested. 
 
 I suspected that the openmouthed crowd surround- 
 ing me was full of spies, so I made out to be worse 
 hurt than I was, groaning and writhing a little. The 
 wound helped me out by bleeding profusely. One 
 youth with an evil face made to take my satchel as 
 if to relieve me. The strap frustrated his humane 
 purpose. He was afraid to proceed further under 
 that circle of eyes. 
 
 Somebody had telephoned for an ambulance, and 
 presently it came danpng up with a fresh crowd in 
 Its train. The white clad surgeon bent over me. 
 
 "I am not badly hurt," I whispered to him, "but 
 please take me away quickly out of this mob." 
 
 I was carried to Bellevue Hospital where I en- 
 gaged a private room. My wound, a slight affair, 
 was cauterised— I had in mind the possibility of 
 poison, and dressed. Afterwards I enjoyed my first 
 sleep in twenty-four hours. I had left instructions 
 that no one was to be admitted to see me, and that no 
 mformation regarding my cond-'ion was to be given 
 out. 
 
 By the next day I was quite myself again. I had 
 
236 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 already seen the reporters, and by the exercise of 
 persuasion and diplomacy had managed to keep the 
 affair from being unJuly exploited in the papers. 
 The police, good fellows, were hard at work on the 
 case, but they could hardly be expected to accomplish 
 anything without the evidence which I did not intend 
 to let them have. The doctors who hate to see 
 any one escape out of their hands so easily did their 
 best to persuade me^ to stop a while in the hospital 
 and "rest" "jut how could I rest with so much to do 
 outside? 
 
 Havmg decided that I must leave the hospital, it 
 was a matter of considerable concern to me how 
 this was to be effected without exposing myself to a 
 fresh danger. I had received a disguised telephone 
 message from English to the effect that they were 
 waiting for me. I decided to confide in the visiting 
 surgeon, an understanding man. 
 
 "Sir," I said, "I am a private djtective. I have 
 a gang of crooks almost ready to be rounded up. 
 Knowing it, they are desperate. That is the ex- 
 planation of the attack on me. Now the chances 
 are that the instant I step outside the hospital I'll 
 stop another bullet. What would you do if you 
 were me?" 
 
 "Call on the police," he said, of course. 
 
 "I can't do that without exploding my charges pre- 
 maturely." 
 
 As I said, he was an understanding man. He 
 didn't bother me with a lot of questions, but took 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 237 
 
 the caie as he found it. After thbking a while, he 
 •aid: 
 
 "How would it do if I had you transferred in an 
 ambulance to my private clinic on — r— Street. You 
 see you'll be loaded on out of sight in the hospital 
 yard here, and you wiU be driven right inside my 
 place to be unloaded. You lie flat in the ambulance 
 and no one can see inside without climbing on the 
 step, and a surgeon sits there." 
 
 "Finel" I said. "You're a man of resource." 
 He gave the order, and it was so done. Arrived 
 at his private hospital I dressed myself in street 
 clothes, borrowing a coat to replace my bloody one, 
 Md callmg a taxi had myself carried to Oscar 
 MiJsonsshop. 
 
23 
 
 1HAVE mentioned, I believe, that Oscar Nihon 
 was a wig-maker, the best in New York. His 
 little shop on a quiet side street North of Madison 
 Square is quaint enough to be the setting of an old- 
 fashioned play. The walls are lined with old cuts 
 of historical personages and famous Thespians as 
 historical personages, all with particular attention 
 to their hirsute features. On the counter stands a 
 row of forms, each bearing some extraordinary kind 
 of scalp. Oscar deals in make-up as a side line 
 and the air bears the intoxicating odour of grease 
 paint and cold cream. 
 
 Oscar's business is chiefly with the theatrical pro- 
 fession, but many an old beau and fading belle have 
 found out that he knows more about restoring youth 
 than the more fashionable beautifiers. Oscar loves 
 his business. His knowledge, historical, artistic, 
 scientific, is immense — but all in terms of human hair. 
 He can tell you offhand how Napoleon wore his in 
 1803 or any other year of his career, and will make 
 you an exact sketch of the toupee ordered by the 
 Duke of Wellington when his feU out. 
 
 Oscar himself, strangely enough, or perhaps 
 
 naturally, has next to no hair of his own, merely a 
 
 little mousy fringe above the ears. He has a jolly 
 
 rubicL id face and is held m hig^ affection and esteem 
 
 «3» 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 239 
 
 by nis customers. He flatters me by taking a par- 
 ticular mterest in my custom. I am the only one of 
 his clients in the criminal line. 
 
 He led me into one of the little cubicles where the 
 trying^n takes place, and stood off to observe me 
 from between narrowed lids. 
 
 "What wiU it be now?" he said. "I was sorry 
 to read of your accident." 
 
 "A mere trifle. What would you iggest? It 
 must stand sunlight and shadow, and be something 
 I can keep up for a while if necessary." 
 
 "Let me think I Your head and face offer a good 
 starting-point for so many creations I" 
 
 "In other words the Lord left me unfinished," I 
 said, teasingly. 
 
 "Not at alll I meant that in your case there 
 were no awkward malformations to be overcome " 
 
 From which it will be seen that Oscar is a diplo- 
 mat. 
 
 "Wh^t would you say to a South American gentle- 
 man? he asked. "New York is full of them in the 
 •ummer. 
 
 accln?""'' "^ ^^^^' "■^° *^* *° '"'"' "P " ^P""'»'> 
 "An oflicer of a liner on shore leave." 
 "w '''°" *'^ ^°°^ ''*'' anybody else." 
 
 dlcrr *'"' ^""^ *^°"* "" Armenian fruit ped- 
 
 "That would restrict my activities too much I 
 must be able to go anywhere." 
 
240 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "I ice 70U have an idea of your own," he said. 
 "What ii it?" 
 
 "We've used several rough-neck disguises," I said. 
 "Suppose you fix me up as a swell this time. I have 
 a mind to stop at a fashionable hotel." 
 
 "The very thing I" cried Oscar. "A curled 
 toupee, slightly silvered ; a wash for the skin to give 
 an interesting pallour; a little touching up about the 
 eyes for an expression of world weariness; waxed 
 moustache, mono^e — 1 — " 
 
 "Easy I The burning-glass would g^ve me dead 
 away. You have to be bom to that." 
 
 "Well you don't have to have the monocle," said 
 OKar regretfully. "But it's very aristocratic." 
 The costume must be exquisitely appointed — it will 
 be expensive—^" 
 
 "Expense is no object in this Case," I said. 
 
 He set to work and an hour later I left his shop 
 a changed man. In th? event of such a contingency I 
 had already secured from Mr. Dunsany the name of 
 his tailor, and I now left him a rush order for sev- 
 eral suits. Meanwhile I bought the best I could 
 ready made. I went to the most fashionable out- 
 fitters and invested heavily. Until they displayed 
 their stock here, I had no idea that men might in- 
 dulge such extravagant tastes. All this was to be 
 sent to the Hotel Rotterdam where I engaged an 
 ext>ensive suite. I believed that it would be the 
 last place in town where the gang would think of 
 looking for me. 
 
 I wished to persuade them that I had been scared 
 
Thieves' Wit 241 
 
 off. After having the cryptogram receipt photo- 
 graphed, I returned it in a plain envelope to Jumbo'a 
 flat. By telephone I instructed Keenan to discharge 
 all the operatives, close the Forty-second street office 
 and advertise it for rent. This place had outlived 
 Its usefulness. Jumbo, Foxy, et al., had proved 
 themselves more than a match for such operatives 
 as could be hired. 
 
 This done, I went out to AmityviUe to spend a day 
 with Sadie. I had promised to lay off for a little, 
 and anyway I had to wait until my new clothes were 
 done before bemg seen around town. After the 
 mad excitement of the past few days, we spent a 
 heavenly peaceful interlude under the oaks of my 
 friend's big place. 
 
 While I was out there an interesting report from 
 my sole remaining operative arrived. 
 
 Report OF J. M. #10 
 
 .J™» »oon as I heard that you and S. F. were all 
 right I went to bed as you instructed. It seemed 
 to me that I had scarcely fallen asleep when I was 
 awakened by my landlady at my door to say that a 
 man wanted to see me. It was no more than day- 
 break then. Hard upon her knock Jumbo entered 
 tfte room. I had barely time to pull on my false hair 
 and fix It. Hereafter I shaU have to sleep in it 
 
 Jumbo was in a state of no little excitement. He 
 pve me his version of what had happened. Lorina, 
 Having apparently just escaped from her room, had" 
 
a4a 
 
 Thievw' Wit 
 
 called him up about half an hour before. I am not 
 lure but what Jumbo came to me because she had 
 suggested a suspicion of mc. However, I think it 
 more lilcely that he just wanted moral support. He 
 was badly frightened. Jumbo for all his bluS, is 
 not a strong character. He is dependent both on 
 Foxy and on the woman, and now seems disposed to 
 lean on me. If he was suspicious my sleepiness and 
 bad-temper upon being awakened must have reas- 
 sured him. 
 
 I dressed and We went right up to the Lexington 
 avenue house. Being Sunday, I had the day to my- 
 self. Mrs. Mansfield had gone out leaving word 
 that we were to wait until she came in or telephoned. 
 The maids believed that she had gone to consult the 
 police. These two were full of highly-coloured 
 accotmts of the supposed robbery of the night before. 
 The hulking black man, however, was silent and 
 sullen. He knew. I wonder what you did to him. 
 I don't think I ever saw a more repulsive human 
 creature — or one more powerful. 
 
 Foxy arrived shortly after we did. I am now 
 admitted to terms of the closest equality by these 
 two. The understand) x i* that each knows enough 
 to the discredit of the others to ensure faithfulness 
 all around. We all chafed at the enforced inaction, 
 but dared not go against Lorina's instructions. She 
 is the boss. The other two half expected the police 
 to descend on the house momentarily. 
 
 About ten o'clock Mrs. Mansfield returned in a 
 taxi-cab. This taxi, by the way, is her property 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 243 
 
 and the driver it one of the gang. The woman was 
 handsomely dretied without ditguiie of any kind 
 We had a conference in the sitting-room up-stairs. 
 Mrs. Mansfield gave us some further details of the 
 previous night. As soon as she succeeded in break- 
 ing out of her room after telephoning to Jumbo and 
 Foxy she hastened up to S. F.'s house, also to your 
 place, both of which addresses she knew. She said 
 that she was disguised, so she must have some place 
 outside where she changes her clothes. She found 
 she was too late at both places. You had carried 
 off S. F. in your automobile. 
 
 Mrs. Mansfield then went down to Fortieth street. 
 From the park opposite, she watched your office for 
 four hours. You got inside too quick for her, she 
 said, but when you came out she potted you. Her 
 eyes gleamed like a devil's as she said it. Fancy how 
 my heart went down. 
 
 She had then changed her -' thes and come 
 straight home. She couldn't tell i;jw seriously she 
 had wounded you. A general prayer went around 
 the table that it would be your finish. She said we 
 should hear presently. 
 
 She seems to have an unlimited number of men 
 subject to her orders. While she waited for you 
 at your office she had sent for several, and posted 
 them near. They mixed in the crowd that sur- 
 rounded you when you fell. One of them had been 
 instructed to make away with your satchel. Another 
 was to follow the ambulance to the hospital. A 
 
244 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 third wai to recover her gun after the excitement 
 wai over and return it to her. 
 
 The firtt of these, an evil-looking young black- 
 guard, came in while we talked. He reported no 
 •ucceu. The satchel was strapped to your wrist, 
 he said, and when he started to unfasten it the crowd 
 began to murmur. He said that you had been shot 
 in the shoulder, and had been carried to Bellevue. 
 He gave it as his opinion that you were not as badly 
 hurt as you ma(|e out. This cheered me greatly. 
 Bitter disappointment was expressed around the 
 table. 
 
 Later another of Lorina's men reported by tele- 
 phone that he had learned through an orderly in the 
 hospital that you had suffered only a slight flesh 
 wound, and would be able to leave the hospital next 
 day. On hearing this she gave her orders to have 
 every exit from the hospital watched. Instructions 
 were to shoot to kill. If it can be found out in ad- 
 vance what time you are going to leave, she means to 
 be on hand herself. 
 
 As soon as I could get out without exciting sus- 
 picion, I sent you a warning by telephone. 
 
 J.M. 
 
 #11 
 
 June 2ith. 
 To-day I had to go to my work as usual, so I 
 didn't see any of the gang until night. In our pres- 
 ent state of excitement and uncertainty we have aban- 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 »4S 
 
 doned the Turtle Bay ai a meeting place. I found 
 my partners in anything but a good humour. 
 
 In the firit place they had learned through the 
 friendly orderly that in spite of all their measures, 
 you had been safely spirited out of the hospital in 
 an ambulance. It was learned by way of the ambu- 
 lance driver that you had been carried to Dr. — i — 's 
 private hospital. It was then too late to do any- 
 thing. By the time they got there, you had left, and 
 the town had swallowed you up. 
 
 The entire strength of the gang, excepting me, has 
 been devoted all day to picking up your trail, so far 
 without any success. They have watched all your 
 usual haunts, your flat, your restaurant, S. F.'s home 
 and your office on Fortieth street. Foxy brought 
 in word that the International Bureau on Forty- 
 Second street had been closed, and all the operatives 
 discharged. He trailed Kecnan, the supposed 
 
 manager to the office of the Railway, where he 
 
 was re-engaged for his old position. 
 
 Jumbo came in with the information that the piece 
 of evidence which they regarded as of such im- 
 portance had been returned to him. I don't know 
 what this was. Lorina, examining it, said that it 
 appeared to have the remains of paste on the cor- 
 ners, and that you had probably had it photographed. 
 
 Foxy gave it as his opinion that you had been 
 scared off. "We know there is no one backing him," 
 said he. "He has no financial resources. He can't 
 keep it up." 
 
 Lorina would have none of it. Her eyes become 
 
246 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 incandescent with hatred when your name is men- 
 tioned now. "Don't you believe it," she snarled. 
 "That man will never give up. I have seen his face 
 and I know ! He's a bull-dog. He will never rest 
 until he has pulled us down, tmless we stop him with 
 a bullet." 
 
 Jumbo became panicky. His suggestion was for 
 the gang to scatter and lie low for the time-being. 
 
 Lorina scorned him. She proceeded to point out 
 to us all just where you stood. She appeared to 
 know as well as ^ou do. Her insight is uncanny. 
 You have no case, she said, except possibly against 
 Foxy. You are too conceited to be satisfied with 
 one. You will not strike until you have a chance of 
 landing the whole gang. 
 
 "But how about the kidnapping?" asked Jumbo. 
 
 "The police would have been here before this if 
 Enderby wanted to proceed on that," she said. 
 "Why, he watdied me walk away after I shot him, 
 and never said a word. No, I tell you he hasn't 
 got the evidence yet, and we're safe until he gets it. 
 He's aiming to make a grand haul of the whole gang 
 together, and get his name in the headlines." 
 
 The others were considerably b^.essed. They 
 Ksked for instructions. 
 
 "We've got to go on just as we are," said Lorina. 
 "Foxy must keep the room on F Tty-Ninth street. 
 Jumbo the flat on One Hundredth street, and I stay 
 here. Let everybody go about freely, and meet here 
 a> usual, that is, all except English. English mustn't 
 come here again. Enderby isn't on to him yet. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 247 
 
 Enderby, if I have the right dope, will lie 1- w for a 
 few days and then thinking that we are lulled to 
 security, will quietly start to work again. That's 
 why we must keep our present hang-outs. He's got 
 to come to one of them to pick us up, and then we'll 
 have him." 
 
 This woman is a wonder in her way. Fortunately, 
 there is one fact that spoils all her reasonmg — ^your 
 humble servant. 
 
 As we broke up she said a significant thing, 
 "Lord I the conceit of the man, thinking he can 
 break up the gang! Why if he did land all of us 
 it wouldn't make any difference. He hasn't got 
 within a mile of the real boss !" 
 
 Being excited she spoke more recklessly than usual. 
 So it appears that our work perhaps is just begin- 
 ning! 
 
 J.M 
 
ON Wednesday morning I motored to town and 
 took up my residence in the Hotel Rotterdam. 
 I hardly knew myself amidst such grandeur. For 
 several days the situation remained in status quo. 
 I learned from English's daily reports that Lorina 
 and her gang were still waiting for my first move. 
 I, for my part, was determined to make them move 
 first. 
 
 Only one of his reports gave me anything to do. 
 I quote from it: 
 
 "Among all the men who come and go in this den 
 of crooks there is one that has particularly excited 
 my interest and compassion. It is an extremely 
 
 food-looking boy of eighteen or thereabouts whom 
 know simply as Blondy. He seems so like a nor- 
 mal boy, jolly, frank and mischievous, that I keep 
 wondenng how he fell into Lorina's clutches. Vk 
 reminds me of my boy Eddie at his age. Lorina has 
 him thoroughly intimidated. She is more overbear- 
 ing with him than the others. He seems not to be 
 trusted very far, but is used as errand boy and spy. 
 His extreme good looks and ingenuous air, make him 
 valuable to them I fancy. 
 
 "Blondy's instinct seems to have led him to make 
 
 friends with me, though as far as he knows I am no 
 
 better than the rest. At any rate we have had a few 
 
 talks together and feel quite intimate. Without any 
 
 34S 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 249 
 
 su^srion from mc, he has kept this from the others. 
 It IS quite touching. 
 
 "I would like very much to get the boy out of this 
 before the grand catastrophe. I'm sure he's worth 
 saving. Naturally in my position I can't undertake 
 any missionary work. Could you with safety ar- 
 range for some one to get hold of the boy ? He tells 
 me that he lives at the Adelphi Association House, 
 JNo. — — West 125th street. Apparently it is a 
 semi-philanthropic club or boarding-house for young 
 
 w"'. .P^ P*'"* ^"^ ^y tJ»e name of Ralph 
 Manly." "^ 
 
 I was in almost as unfavorable a position for 
 undertaking "missionary work" as Mr. Dunsany. 
 After fhinking the matter over I decided to again 
 ask the help of the famous surgeon who had be- 
 friended me in the hospital. I called at his office 
 for the ostensible purpose of consulting him as to 
 my health. When I was alone with him in his con- 
 sulting room I made myself known. Being a human 
 kind of man, notwithstandmg his eminence, he was 
 interested in the dramatic and mysterious elements 
 of my story. Far from abusing me for taking up 
 his valuable time, he expressed himself as very will- 
 ing to help save the boy. 
 
 We consulted a directory of charities in his office, 
 and he found that he was acquainted with several 
 men on the board of managers of the Adelphi Asso- 
 ciation. This offered an opening. He promised 
 to proceed with the greatest caution, and promised 
 to write to me at my hotel if he had any luck. 
 Three days later I heard from him as follows: 
 
250 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "I took my friend on the Adelphi board partly 
 into my confidence, and between him and the doctor 
 employed by the association to safeguard the health 
 of the boys, the matter was easily arranged. The 
 doctor's regular weekly visit to the institution fell 
 Yesterday. He saw the boy, and making believe to 
 be struck by something in his appearance, put him 
 through an examination. He hinted to the boy that 
 he was in rather a bad way, and instructed him to 
 report to my office for advice this morning.' 
 
 "The young fellow showed up in a very sober 
 state of mind. He is really sm sound as a dollar, but 
 for the present I dm keeping him anxious without 
 being too explicit. He appears to be quite as attrac- 
 tive a youth as your friend said. I am very much in- 
 terested, but am not yet prepared to make up my 
 mind about him. He is commg to-morrow at two- 
 thirty. If it is convenient for you to be here, I will 
 arrange a meeting as if by accident." 
 
 Needless to say, I was at the doctor's office at the 
 time specified. I found the blonde boy already wait- 
 ing among other patients in the outer office. It was 
 easy to recognise him from Mr. Dunsany's descrip- 
 tion. He was better than merely good-looking; he 
 had nice eyes. He was dressed a little too showily 
 as is natural to a boy of that age when he is allowed 
 to consult his own taste exclusively. 
 
 There happened to be a vacant chair beside him 
 and I took it. Presently I addressed some friendly 
 ccMnmoi^ilace to him. He responded naturally. 
 Evidently he was accustomed to having people like 
 him. Soon we were talking away like old friends. 
 I w|is more and more taken with him. Primarily, it 
 
Thieves' Wit 251 
 
 was his good looks, of course, the universal safe- 
 conduct, but m addition to that I was strongly 
 affected by a quality of wistfulness in the boy's glance, 
 of which he himself was quite unconscious. Surely, 
 I sa.d to myself, a boy of his age had no business 
 to be carrymg around a secret sorrow. The doctor 
 issumg from his consulting room, saw us hobnobbing 
 together, and aUowed us to wait until everybody else 
 had been attended to. 
 
 He had me into the consulting room first. "Well 
 what do you think of him ?" he asked. ' 
 
 "I am charmed," I said. "There are no two 
 words about it." 
 
 "So was I," he said, "but I didn't want to raise 
 your hopes too high in my letter." 
 
 After discussing a little what we would do with 
 him, we had the boy in. 
 
 "Ralph, my friend, Mr. Boardman, wished to be 
 regularly mtroduced," said the doctor. 
 
 Boardman was the name I had taken in my present 
 disguise. 
 
 The boy shook hands nicely, he was neither too 
 bashful, nor too brash, and some facetious remarks 
 were made all around. 
 
 "I tell Boardman," said the doctor, "that if he 
 
 had done his duty by his country and had had half a 
 
 dozeiv sons like you he would have no time to be 
 
 worrymg about his appendix now." 
 
 "Has your father got half a dozen like you?" I 
 asked. ' 
 
 An expression of pain ran across the boy's face. 
 
252 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "I have no brothers," he said. "My' father is 
 dead." 
 
 "Well, since you're a fatherless son, and I'm a son- 
 less father — with an appendix, perhaps we can cheer 
 each other up a little,' I said. "Will you have 
 dinner with me at my hotel to-night?" 
 
 Boys never see anything suspicious in sudden over- 
 tures of friendship. Ralph accepted, blushing with 
 pleasure. 
 
 The dinner was a great success. I don't know 
 which of us was the better entertained. My young 
 friend's prattle, ingenuous, boastful, lightheaded, 
 renewed my own boyhood. It was rather painful 
 though to see one naturally so frank, obliged to pull 
 up when he found himself approaching dangerous 
 ground. Then he would glance at me to see if I 
 had noticed anything. 
 
 I had him several times after that. It was a risk, 
 of course, but one must take risks. At the same 
 time I was pretty sure from Mr. Dunsany's reports 
 that Ralph never talked of his outside affairs to any 
 of the gang. At least he never told Mr. Dunsany 
 anything about his dinners with Mr. Boardman at 
 the Rotterdam, and he was friendly with him. 
 
 The denouement of this incident really belongs a 
 little later in my story, but for the sake of continuity 
 I will give it here. 
 
 I soon saw that I would have no difficulty in win- 
 ning Ralph's full confidence. His gratitude for 
 friendliness was very affecting. I could see that he 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 253 
 
 I let him 
 
 often wished to bare his painful secret 
 take his own time about it. 
 
 It was the doctor's offering him a position in a 
 friend's office that brought matters to a head. 
 Ralph refused it with a painful air. He could give 
 no reason for it to the doctor. Afterwards when I 
 had him alone with me I saw that it was coming. 
 
 "That certainly was decent of Dr. ," he said 
 
 diffidently, "I don't know why he's so good to me." 
 "Oh, you're not a bad sort of boy," I said lightly. 
 "You, too," he said shyly. "Especially you. 1— 
 I never had a man friend before." 
 I smiled encouragingly. 
 
 "I suppose you wonder why I couldn't take the 
 position?" he went on. 
 "That's your affair." 
 
 "But I want to tell you. I— I wouldn't be al- 
 lowed to take it. I am not a free agent." 
 
 "Perhaps we could help you to be one," I sug- 
 gested. 
 
 "I don't know. Maybe you wouldn't want to 
 have anything more to do with me. Oh, there's a 
 lot I want to tell you I" he cried imploringly, "But 
 I don't know how you'll take it," 
 "Try me," 
 
 "Would you— would you kick me out," he said, 
 agitated and breathless, "if you knew that my dad 
 had committed a forgery, if you knew that he had 
 died in prison ?" 
 
 "Why, no," I said calmly, "I suspect you were not 
 responsible for that," 
 
254 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 A sigh of relief euaped him. "You are kind I 
 — But that'i only the beginning," he went on. "But 
 I feel I can tell you now. I'm in an awful hole. I 
 suppose you will think I'm a weak character for not 
 trying to get out of it more, and I am weak, but I 
 didn't know what to do I" 
 
 "Tell me all about it," I said. 
 
 And he did ; all about Lorina and Foxy and Jumbo 
 as he knew them. They didn't trust him far. He 
 knew nothing of their actual operations, but his 
 honest young heart told him they were crooks. 
 Lorina held him under a spell of terror. He had 
 not up to this time been able to conceive of the idea 
 of escaping her. There are those who would blame 
 the boy, I have no doubt, but I am not one of them. 
 I have seen too often that a mind which may after- 
 wards become strong and self-reliant is at Ralph's 
 age fatally subservient to older minds. Those who 
 would blame him should remember that until he mei 
 the doctor and me he had not a disinterested friend 
 in the world. They must grant that he instantly re- 
 acted to kindness and decent feelings. 
 
 "How did you first get into this mess?" I asked, 
 strongly curious. 
 
 "I'd have to tell you my whole life to explain 
 that." 
 
 "Fire away." 
 
 I will give 3rou Ralph's story somewhat abridged. 
 
 "My mother died when I was a baby," he said. 
 "I do not remember her. My father and I lived 
 alone with servants who were always changing. We 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 255 
 
 did not seem to cttch on with people. I mem, we 
 didn't teeni to have friend* like everybody h«d. I 
 thought this was strange when I was little. My 
 father was quite an old man, but we got along pretty 
 well. He was what they called a handwriting ex- 
 pert. He wrote books about handwriting. Law- 
 yers consulted him, and he gave evidence at trials." 
 
 "What was his name?" I asked. 
 
 "David Andrus." 
 
 Now I remembered the trial of David Andrus, 
 so I was in a position to check up that part of Ralph's 
 story. 
 
 "I was twelve years old," he went on, "when Mrs. 
 Mansfield first began coming to our apartment. I 
 don't know where or how my father met her, of 
 course. He knew her pretty well already when I 
 first saw her. At first she was kind to me, and 
 brought me things, and I was fond of her. I told 
 myself we had a friend like anybody else now. I 
 used to brag about her in school. 
 
 "Bye and bye I found out, I don't know how, that 
 she was a sham, that her kindness meant nothing. 
 Little by little I began to hate her, though I was 
 careful not to let her see it, for I was afraid of her 
 cold blue eye. Besides my father became more and 
 more crazy about her. He seemed to lose his good 
 sense as far as she was concerned. She could make 
 him do anything she wanted. ChUdren see more 
 than they are supposed to. 
 
 "It is three years now since the crash came. I 
 was fourteen then. One day my father was arrested 
 
256 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 «nd taken to the Tomb>. Mri. Manifield took me 
 to her houM, not the same one the has now. She 
 treated me all right, but I hated her. Young at I 
 wai I held her reipontible. I didn't tee much of 
 
 her. I don't know if you remember the trial ?" 
 
 "Something of it," taid I. 
 "The papert were full of it. I wat not allowed 
 to attend, but, of courte, I got hold of all the papert. 
 They taid that my father had got hold of blank ttock 
 certificatet by corrupting young derki, and had then 
 forged tignaturei to them and told them on the 
 ttock market. He wat tentenced to Sing Sing for 
 leven yeart. They took me to tee him before he 
 wat tent away. He had aged twenty yeart. He 
 watn't able to tay much to me." 
 
 "Mn. Mantfield told me I mutt change my name, 
 and tent me to a good tchool in Connecticut. She 
 paid the billt. I wat pretty happy there, though 
 thit thing wat alwayt hanging over my head. In the 
 tummen I wat tent away to a boy't camp in the 
 mountaini. Mrt. Manifield told me nobody wat 
 allowed to tee my father or to write to him and I 
 believed her. So it wat the tame to me at if he 
 had died. 
 
 "One day latt winter in tchool I received a letter 
 tigned "Well-Wither," atking me to meet the writer 
 at a certain tpot in the tchool woodt that afternoon. 
 Naturally I wat excited by the myttery and all that. 
 I wat tcared, too. But I went. I didn't tell any- 
 body." 
 
 "I found a queer cuttomer waiting for me. A 
 
 k. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 357 
 
 man about fifty with doic-cropped hiir. He told 
 me right off that he was ju«t out of Sing Sing. Why 
 hadn't I ever come to lee my dad, he asked. He 
 •aid it was pitiful the way he pined for me." 
 
 "I stammered out that I didn't know anybody 
 could see him. He told me about the visiting days. 
 'Anyhow you could have written,' he said." 
 " 'He never wrote to «.e,' I said. 
 *' 'Sure, doesn't he write to you every writing day I 
 He has read me the letters. Elegant letters." 
 " 'I never got them I' I said." 
 •That's why I came,' he said. 'Dave said he 
 thought that woman had come between you.' " 
 
 "The old fellow told me how to address a letter 
 to my father, and he gave me money to go to Sing 
 Sing when I could. I had an allowance from Mrs. 
 Mansfield, but not enough for that. I wrote to my 
 father that night." 
 
 "It was Easter before I had the chance to see my 
 father. I made out to Mrs. Mansfield that the 
 Khool closed a day later than it did, and I used that 
 day to go to Sing Sing. My father was in the in- 
 firmary. I scarcely recognised him. They let me 
 stay all day. Even I could see that he was dying." 
 "For the first time I heard the truth of the case. 
 It was Mrs. Mansfield who had got the certificates 
 out of the young clerks, and had brought them to 
 my father to be fiUed in. When they were found out 
 she carried on so, that he took the whole thing on 
 hunself. He thought he might as weU, since he had 
 to go to jail anyway, and he knew he would die there. 
 
25» 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 Bcudes (he promiMd him to have me educated and 
 looked after. He had no one elM to leave me with. 
 At that time he Mill believed in her. 
 
 "But in the prison he met men who knew about 
 her of old. My father was not the first she had 
 been the means of landing in jail. It was then my 
 father began to be afraid for me, and managed to 
 send me word. 
 
 "He died in April. Mrs. Mansfield immediately 
 took me out of school. She told me my father was 
 dead, and that it w«s time I went to work. I think 
 she must have learned by her spies that I had been 
 to see my father, for she no longer took the trouble 
 to put on a good face. Now it was, do this or that 
 or it will be the worse for you. When I saw how all 
 die other men gave in to her, I was afraid to resist. 
 I hated her, but what could I do? I had no one to 
 go to. I had no experience. I wasn't sure of my- 
 •elf. The understanding up there is that Lorina 
 could reach you wherever you went. And if you did 
 anything to cross her, look out! She has spies 
 everywhere!" 
 
 "I wonder why she didn't turn you adrift alto- 
 gether?" I said. 
 
 "I think I am useful to them because I look hon- 
 est," the boy said wretchedly. "I run errands for 
 them, but I never know what it's all about." 
 
 "Have you ever heard talk up there of a boss 
 greater than Mrs. Mansfield?" I asked. 
 
 He nodded. "But only vague ulk. I've never 
 seen him." 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 259 
 
 "Doe* the have you watched?" I aiked. 
 
 "No. She think* ihe ha* me where *he want* 
 me. But if *he *u*pccted anything " 
 
 "You niu*tn't come here again," I *aid. 
 
 Hi* face fell ab*urdly. 
 
 "Oh, I'm not kicking you out," I »aid .m.Img. 
 I *baU keep m touch with you. Would vou like 
 to *ee thi* woman go to jail ?" 
 
 u- "^'?lil ' ^'.' *** "'"^' i""P'"« "P- Wo/d^ failed 
 
 WeU, I m gomg to put her there," I said. "And 
 you *hall help me. But we mutt be careful " 
 
25 
 
 IN the meantime Lorina Mansfield, weary of the 
 inaction I had forced on her, or persuaded per- 
 haps that I had dropped the pursuit, boldly resumed 
 
 her designs on Mrs. , 's diamond necklace. For 
 
 convenience' sake I shall call this lady Mrs. Lever- 
 ing. He real naihe is one to conjure with in 
 America. 
 
 Mr. Dunsany or "English" reported that he had 
 been detailed to go to Newport on Saturday to spy 
 on the lady, and what should he do about ic? The 
 plucky gentleman who never hesitated to put him- 
 self in danger, became uneasy when it was a ques- 
 tion of actually committing a crime. 
 
 We arranged a chat over the telephone, and I 
 gave him the best reasons for going ahead with the 
 scheme. We had so much to talk over that I told 
 him I would go up to New England by a different 
 route, and if he was not spied upon he could come to 
 me at Providence early on Sunday and we could go 
 over everything. All the time we had been working 
 together we had never exchanged a word face to 
 face in our natural characters. 
 
 We succeeded in pulling off the meeting, Mr. 
 Dunsany assured me he had not been followed. We 
 laid out our plan of campaign. I convinced him 
 that the quickest and surest way to land the whole 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 261 
 
 gang would be to aUow them, even to assist them, 
 to carry out a robbery from start to finish. Lei 
 them steal Mrs. Levering', jewels, I said, let them 
 get^dean away with them. Wc'U return them 
 
 "Suppose some one gets hurt," he said nervously. 
 we will be on our guard. 
 
 d^e a,e he would fee obliged to give her another 
 necklace of equal value. This was a matter of 
 $90,000. 
 
 3^ T»"°^ *°'"8^ *° ^"^ ^"'^'^ on it." I said. 
 ^ What followed can best be told by Mr. Dunsany's 
 
 Report of J. M. #15 
 
 Newport. Sunday, July Ath. 
 My patience was rewarded shortly before noon to- 
 day by the s.ght of Mrs. Levering walking to the 
 
 to r° "Ql°"!fT'"^ ^^ " «•"""* gentleman unknown 
 tome. t»he did not notice me. of course. If I had' 
 been m my own person I warrant she would not 
 have passed me .0 indifiFerently. What marveUou* 
 faculty IS It that enables a lady to know without look, 
 mg at a man whether he is worth looking at? 
 
 vJrJT '"••^'^'^ "y^'f t**" she was wearing her 
 veritable diamonds. Foolish womani Whfn I 
 sold them to her I warned her not to exhibit them 
 « pubic. At the time there wa. a lot o* gp,^ 
 
262 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 I 
 
 i :i: 
 
 about what Levering paid me for the neddace, and 
 I suppose every thief in the country has it on his list. 
 But Cora Levering was always feather-headed. 
 
 I telegraphed to Lorina m the code we had agreed 
 on, and had my dinner while I waited for her answer. 
 It came presently, instructing me to meet her in a 
 certain hotel in Providence to-morrow, two-thirty. 
 To-morrow being a holiday, I am not expected at 
 Ounsany's. This means that I have to put in a 
 long, empty twenty-four hours here. The place is 
 full of my friends "eating and drinking themselves 
 black in the face, while I have to stay at a fourth-rate 
 hotel. 
 
 To-morrow night there Is going to be a great 
 entertainment at Fernhurst, one of the palaces on 
 the cliffs. 
 
 J.M. 
 
 #i6 
 
 Newport, July 5/A, 9 P.M. 
 
 All is set for the drama tocnight, and I am 
 nervously awaiting my cue. Heaven knows what the 
 not few hours may bring forth! When you read 
 this it may be up to you to get me out of jail. If 
 we pull it off all right I have no doubt the newspapers 
 will say, as they always do, that tht robbery gave 
 evidence of long and careful planning, whereas it 
 was all fixed up in a few minutes. 
 
 I went over to Providence to-day shortly before 
 the hour set by Lorina, and found Foxy waiting 
 
Thieves* Wit 
 
 263 
 
 at the hotel she named. Lorina herself, he said, 
 was in Newport looking over the ground, and would 
 be back directly. It seems that hearing of the affair 
 at Fernhurst they had determined to turn the trick 
 the same night. 
 
 Lorina came bringing a good-looking, welWressed 
 young fellow whom she introduced to the crowd as 
 Frank. He was evidently a youngster of the 
 fashionable world, one cannot mistake the little ear- 
 marks. He has a look of the family; one of 
 
 the younger sons, maybe, whom drink and the devil 
 have done for. At any rate, he is completely under 
 Lorina's thumb like the rest. 
 
 Lorina was playing the part of a traveller in 
 books— religious books if you please I She dressed 
 the business woman plain and handsome, and had 
 engaged a private sitting-room for the day to show 
 her samples. There was actually a whole trunk 
 full of sample books. I suppose she passed us off 
 as her agents or customers. 
 
 She had us all in the sitting-room together. Be- 
 sides Frank, Foxy and myself, there was a fourth 
 man whom I recognised as her chauffeur. His name 
 i» Jim. She proceeded to lay out her campaign in 
 the most matter-of-fact way without wasting a word. 
 It might have been the sales-manager instructing the 
 drummers in the Fall line. Nobody seemed nervous 
 except Frank, who was apparently new at the game. 
 The entertainment at Fernhurst provided our op- 
 portunity. It appeared that Frank was well ac- 
 quainted with Mrs. Levering, and that by Lorina's 
 
264 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 jn»truction$ he had been particularly cultivating her 
 society of late. He was to be the decoy. Further- 
 more, he drew for us with rather a shaky hand, a 
 plan of the house and grounds at Femhurst, show- 
 ing the location of roads, paths, benches, shrubbery, 
 etc. Lorina used this plan in issuing her instruc- 
 tions. 
 
 ..u'^ir"/"* " *° '"^" "* nine-thirty," she said, 
 but all the guests will not have arrived until nearly 
 midnight So we will fix on midnight to turn the 
 trick, or as soon after as possible. We have decided 
 on this bench that I have marked with a cross for 
 the spot. Get its position well fixed in your mind, 
 all of you. It is quite a way from the house you see, 
 few, if any, of the dancers will go so far. It is 
 off the main paths. It is near the street fence, but 
 IS hidden from the street by this dense shrubbery 
 behind it. 
 
 "Mrs. Levering has promised Frank the first 
 dance after she arrives. He will then make an en- 
 pgement with her for another dance to fall just 
 before midnight as near as he can figure it, and after 
 dancing with her the second time will take her out 
 to this bench. 
 
 Foxy and English will already be in hiding in the 
 shrubbery behind the bench. Foxy has an invitation 
 to the affair, and he will go in evening dress and mix 
 with the guests until he sees Frank dancing with 
 Mrs. Levering the second time. He will then go 
 out of the house and conceal himself in the shrub- 
 bery. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 26s 
 
 must be there by eleven to make sure. English 
 wears his ordinary clothes, and slips in by the service 
 entrance to the grounds, marlced on the plan here 
 Once ms.de the gates he must make his way under 
 cover to the shrubbery behind the bench. English 
 
 Tr -^7 ''^u^'^ °':,"""* ^°' f °^ ^l-i^h will be 
 provided There will be a mask in one side pocket, 
 a cap m the other. As soon as you two meet. Fo« 
 will put on the things. ' 
 
 stmple. Frank is keeping Mrs. Levering in conver- 
 sation on the bench. Foxy sneaks up behind with 
 the nippers cuts the necklace, and tosses it back to 
 li.nglish, who remains in the bushes. 
 
 "The woman will scream, of course. Foxy will 
 stand up and show himself, and run in this direction, 
 that IS, towards the house. Frank will take after 
 
 F„"L n" 7*l\ '"'^ *•"" «° '"^'^ *° the woman. 
 Foxy will double around this shrubbery that con- 
 ceals the stable entrance. As soon as he is out of 
 sight of the woman he will throw off the cap, mask 
 and coat, and go back to Mrs. Levering as one of 
 the first attracted by her cries. If ,hc does not cry 
 out, he can mix with the crowd in the house until he 
 nas a chance to make a getaway 
 
 Meanwhile, English lies quiet in the shrubbery 
 until the excitement has passed out of the vicinity, 
 rhen he slips out by the service gate, the same way 
 
 sJt !!"- . ^."" '"'" ^' ^"'''"^ ^'^'^ *« ««• "bout 
 five hundred feet beyond the service entrance, to- 
 
266 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 owl train back to J^ew York T:l ' . '^ *'"' 
 
 cn^lt" hrL"^' *^.lf ""T '^' *' "" •>" 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 267 
 
 "I used to be known as a runner. TheyTl think 
 It funny I wasn't able to catch Foxy " 
 
 "Catch him then," said Lorina coolly. "Struggle 
 with him. He wiU throw you off. That wilHe! 
 you out. won't it? Rehearse it now" "'""'" 
 
 It was a grim kind of play. Everybody took it 
 
 fa'^eLrrf r"^ ?"''' "" P'''"'^ to represent the 
 fateful bench. Lonna and Frank took seats on it 
 
 «pre«ntle '1? "' "^^ ""^^ ''" -" 
 
 fnd told >7 T"' ^°"'"'^' ""'PP'^l ^h' «"ng 
 and tossed .t back to me. His implement was a 
 
 pair of heavy nail clippers such as manicure! use 
 
 Then as Foxy made off, Frank flung himself upon 
 
 h.m.^they struggled and Frank was thrown to 'he 
 
 AH this was gone over again and again. Some 
 buttons were tied on the piece of string so thati 
 would carry when it was thrown back to me. Foxv's 
 stage expenence proved serviceable. He acted as 
 d.rec or. showmg Frank how to tackle him, and ho" 
 
 of Ji r ri ''"'""« ^'"'''^^- Lorina's depiction 
 of the startled woman was admirable. The whole 
 scene would have been funny if it hadn't beln so 
 gnm. xNone of them seemed to be aware of any 
 hunaour m the proceedings but me. Jim. wSo Sd 
 not take part m the scene, acted as critic. He stood 
 off makmg suggestions. 
 Finally, Lorina announced that it was only ten 
 
 irank and Foxy might go off by themselves and 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 268 
 
 pnicticeiftheyfeltit„ece..ary. Wc .cattered T 
 
 sr:'r::f ;f '"'*'' •" NcwpoAxt j 
 
 It i. nn • .•?""' "" •«" ""y °f them .ince. 
 
 together, and my teeth to chatter. 
 
 J.M. 
 
26 
 
 Report of J. M. No. 17 
 
 WHPV I . Providence, i jjo A.M. 
 
 unmntakably. Th,» was diKonccrting. I p,„ed 
 
 Za 7t'\^''"^r^ ^'-o-g*' with thciTginuS eye. 
 and I broke out in a gentle sweat all over. Prel 
 ently however, I realised it was but their profet 
 «onaI manner of looking at anybody who w.. t,^ 
 well dressed, and I calmed down. 
 
 It filled me with . kind of terror to think that 1 
 n..ght be prevented from carrying out my paJt o 
 the evening', entertainment. .o%ou will see I was 
 
 tne block and prepared to try again. On my wav 
 towards the service gate I had Se luck^o f^ !I 
 with a crowd of waiters clearly bound for the .h„^ 
 
 M irerrtt " -" '° "« - wifh\£r 
 
 S;:;^.S^f--^^Herewasn:;2:S 
 
 169 
 
270 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 I had to wait over an hour for Foxy. It was not 
 a pleasant time. Lorina's plan seemed perfect, but 
 you never can tell. And my inexperience in this line 
 was such that I didn't feel overmuch confidence in 
 myself should an emergency arise. Not far behind 
 me I could hear the steady procession of motors 
 bringing guests to the party. In the distance I could 
 hear the music. They had picked their spot well. 
 In all that time no one passed that way. 
 
 In the end Foxy's coming gave me a great start. 
 Creeping through the bushes without the rustle of a 
 leaf, he was beside me before I heard him coming. 
 He was dressed in the height of fashion. I caught 
 a gleam of a monocle dangling against his white 
 waistcoat. I silently passed him over the coat I 
 had brou^t, and standing in a little open space, he 
 put it on together with the cap and mask. Then we 
 crouched down side by side under the leaves, with the 
 back of the bench in plain view before us. Foxy 
 laid the nippers on the ground ready to his hand. 
 We did not speak to each other. 
 
 Bye and bye we heard voices approaching, and my 
 poor heart set up a tremendous how-de-do. On the 
 other hand something told me Foxy was enjoying it. 
 Mrs. Levering and the young man called Frank came 
 strolling dimly into view. I was nearly suffocating 
 with excitement. 
 
 "This is the place," Fra.nk said. 
 
 "How cosy I" she sang. 
 
 "Shall we sit down?" he suggested. 
 
 "Let's I" said she. "I'll have a cigarette." 
 
Thieves' Wit 271 
 
 .he had looked over her .houldcr .he would h.ve 
 .een the g,„e ,.J„tly reflected fron, our whlJe f .«. 
 I stole a look >t Foxy', ratlike profile. He had 
 .hoved up the m.,k. Hi, teeth were bared. He 
 wa. amused at the pro.pect of a little Kandalou. 
 eamdropprng. Merciful Heaven. 1 what !! faceT 
 
 two "on thTV'T f ' '""''" conversation of the 
 two on the bench. It was merely .illy. Frank'. 
 
 rS/"/"'""'i'«u. ' '"PP"" •»'' ..cribed tha 
 fool ' ^" '"""«• '"' •>"• She i, a 
 
 Foxy gave them a good while to their talk 
 Frank no doubt wor.e. I at lea« could ,ee when 
 
 until M ^" *° •"« *" ^""' ''« ''^ ""»d not. Not 
 unt Mrs. Levenng said she must go back, but not 
 really meanmg ,t yet, did Foxy pull down the mask 
 and creep forward. I held my breath 
 
 It seemed as if it were all accomplished in a sinele 
 movement Foxy rose to his knees behind the 
 woman, smpped the shining thing around her neck.-! 
 
 drln il'- """ ''""« "' ""y •"«»• I mechanically 
 dropped It m my pocket. ^ 
 
 hUnA "^ «,^°* '"?,"• ^" *"*• « '"«' »he showed 
 Mood. "My necklace I" .he gasped, jumping up 
 hand to throat. "Gone I" . jumping up, 
 
 pinl"o?r'''.' -'f, ?"'''"« ^'y °"» ''"'d the snap. 
 P'ng of the frightful tension he had been under. 
 
 the h!!!!'K * !T°" ''°'*'*'' '^""'^ "P f'*"" behind 
 the bench, and headed diagonally across the path 
 
mxoeorf msowtion tbt cha*t 
 
 (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 
 
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 ^ /APPLIED ItvMGE Inc 
 
 ^Si 1653 Eoit Uain StrMt 
 
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272 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 Another gasping cry, not loud, broke from the 
 woman. "There he is I" 
 
 Frank flung himself on the back of the runner, 
 and they rolled over on the ground, all exactly as I 
 had seen it rehearsed a dozen times in the hotel 
 room. They sprang up, grappled, swayed and 
 finally Frank was flung with apparently great vio- 
 lence to the ground. Foxy disappeared. 
 
 Frank struggled to his feet, seemingly hurt. He 
 attempted to stagger in the direction the fugitive 
 had taken, but Mrs. Levering clung to him. One 
 may suppose he was not sorry to be prevented. 
 
 At this moment the tragic-farce was interrupted 
 by the entrance of an actor not on the bill. This 
 was a man with an electric flash, a detective to all 
 appearances. I suppose they had them posted about 
 the grounds, and this man had heard the disturb- 
 ance, slight though it was. The flash terrified me. 
 I softly and precipitately retired under the leaves 
 into the thickest of the shrubbery. 
 
 "I have been robbed!" I heard Mrs. Levering 
 gasp. "My diamond necklace! He came from 
 there. He went that way." 
 
 The detective threw his light around. Fortu- 
 nately for me I had put a screen of leaves in front 
 of me. I was not disposed to linger in the neigh- 
 bourhood. I ran along close to the fence where 
 there was a narrow open space. As I passed out of 
 hearing, I heard others come running up. Excite- 
 ment runs like electricity. I had no doubt that Foxy 
 in immaculate evening dress, was among the first to 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 273 
 
 reach the scene. I took care to survey the service 
 gate from a discreet distance before presenting my- 
 self there. It was well that I did so. I saw that 
 it was closed, and the two men still on guard. Not 
 knowing at what instant an alarm might be raised 
 behind me, I dared not apply to them with any tale 
 however ingenious. Those diamonds were red hot 
 in my pocket. On the other hand, I would have to 
 retrace my steps nearly a quarter of a mile to reach 
 the main entrance, and I was not suitably dressed to 
 be seen there. I could not climb the fence at any 
 point, for it was a smooth, high iron affair, more- 
 over, the street outside was brightly lighted. I 
 knew nothing about the cliff side of the grounds. 
 
 For a moment or two I felt decidedly panicky. 
 Before my mind's eye headlines in the next day's 
 papers were vividly emblazoned: 
 
 "WELL-KNOWN JEWELLER STEALS THE 
 DIAMONDS HE SOLD" 
 
 or something like that. Finally I recollected that 
 the road to the service entrance of Femhurst ran 
 quite close to the boundary of the next estate. I 
 determined to try that way. 
 
 To reach the boundary I was obliged to make a 
 long detour. Still there were no sounds behind me 
 to indicate that an alarm had been raised, at any 
 rate a public alarm. The line between the two es- 
 tates was marked by a thorn hedge and a wire fence. 
 Choosing a dark spot I managed to struggle through 
 
274 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 without receiving any serious damage. I finally 
 gained the street through the service gate of this 
 place. 
 
 This brought me out beyond the point where Jim 
 was to be stationed with the motor car, and I had to 
 retrace my steps. The car was in the appointed 
 spot. Jim was on the front seat with his head 
 craned m the other direction whence he expected me 
 I gave him a little signal. He was much troubled 
 to see me come from that way thinking the plan had 
 fallen through, but. was reassured no doubt by the 
 fall of the necklace on the floor of his car. I was 
 thankful to be rid of the cursed thing. 
 
 There were several cars standing across the street, 
 with their chauffeurs chatting together, and I was 
 afraid of attracting attention to myself or to Jim by 
 turning back at that moment. I kept on. I was 
 startled half out of my wits when a motor patrol 
 wagon full of police came flying up the street past 
 me. It turned in at the service gate of Femhurst 
 ahead. Since I was traveUing in that direction I 
 had to keep on. 
 
 A man stepped out as I approached. Seizing my 
 shoulder he swung me half around so that the light 
 fell on my face. "What are you doing here?" he 
 demanded. 
 
 I thought it was all up with me. "I just wanted 
 to have a look at the swells," I stammered. 
 
 Another man joined him. "Hold this guy," said 
 the first. While the second man kept a hand twisted 
 in my collar, the first one frisked me expeditiously 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 275 
 
 I had 'aken care, of course, not to have anything on 
 me. But the side pocket of my coat was still hot 
 from the diamonds. 
 
 Finding nothing the man growled an order for 
 my release. The second man spun me around, and 
 propelled me towards town with a shove. "Get the 
 H — : — out of here!" said he. 
 
 And I did. 
 
 J.M. 
 
27 
 
 Report of J. M. No. i8 
 
 INew York, July 6th, Midnight. 
 HAVE just r-iturned from a celebration up at 
 Lorina's house. Everybody made a clean get- 
 away last night, and the diamonds are safe in 
 Lorina's desk, so the gang made merry. The news- 
 paper stories of the affair caused us the greatest 
 amusement. The police, as you have seen, are very 
 wide of the mark. Of us all, only Frank has fallen 
 under suspicion. It appears that I was right in my 
 guess as to his identity. The affair will ruin him 
 socially, though it is not likely to lead to his arrest. 
 I can't say that I feel sorry for the youth. Of all 
 the parts in this sordid drama, Frank, the decoy 
 played the most contemptible. 
 
 In the general loosening of tongues to-night I have 
 some rather interesting matter to report. When I 
 arrived at the house all the gang except Lorina were 
 in the dining-room. Spencer, the negro, told me 
 she was up in the office, so I went up-stairs to make 
 my report. The office door was open a crack, and 
 as I was about to knock I heard Lorina's voice with- 
 in. She was talking over the telephone. The first 
 sound of her voice froze me where I stood in aston- 
 ishment. The tone was that of a woman distracted 
 by love and longinn;. Think of it, Lorina I 
 276 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 277 
 
 I he«rd her say: "I'll do anything you tell me. 
 But I want to see you. I must see you sometimes, 
 dearie. What is the use of all this working and 
 worrying, what am I doing it for if you never even 
 let me see you ? I can't stand it. I can't go on. I 
 won't stand it I" 
 
 Do you wonder that I was amazed? 
 
 There was a silence, and she went on in a broken, 
 humbled tone: "No — I didn't mean that. I will 
 obey you. You always know best. But don't be 
 so hard on me. Please, dearie, please— ^-\" 
 
 At this point Foxy came running up-stairs. I was 
 caught rather awkwardly. 
 
 "What are you doing here?" he demanded. 
 
 "I came up-stairs to report to Mrs. Mansfield," I 
 said, "but I don't like to disturb her. She seems to 
 be having a private conversation." 
 
 He listened at the door for a moment, then pulled 
 me away. 
 
 "Beat it!" said he. "She's talking to the boss. 
 She'd kill us if she found us here." 
 
 One other thing that I had heard Lorina say was : 
 "Then I'll keep the coal here, until I hear from you 
 again." 
 
 "Coal" or "white coal" is their slang for dia- 
 monds, so I suppose she meant the necklace. 
 
 I returned down-stairs full of speculations regard- 
 ing this wonderful and mysterious "boss." What 
 kind of man must he be, thus to bring the imperious 
 Lorina who commands us like slaves, to her knees? 
 Frank was not present at the party in the dining- 
 
278 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 room. He is not a regular member of the gang. 
 Besides Foxy, Jumbo, Jim the chauffeur and myself, 
 there were several of the younger fellows, but not 
 Blondy, I am glad to say, for I should not like to 
 see that nice boy drinking. Lorina appeared only 
 once or twice and then but for a moment. The 
 lady's gaiety was forced. However, she was liberal 
 in her hospitality. Champagne flowed like water. 
 
 Jumbo got very drunk and even Foxy drank 
 enough to make him indiscreet. It was then that 
 interesting ancient history was retold. It would 
 astonish you to see Foxy at such moments. There 
 is nothing about him of the dull, prosy bore that he 
 ordinarily affects. 
 
 Jumbo was toasting him with maudlin praise. 
 "Drink to Foxy, fellows I" he cried. "There's the 
 lad that brings home the bacon I The slickest, 
 smoothest article of them alll" 
 
 Foxy took it as no more than his due. 
 "Say, Foxy," asked another admirer, "what was 
 the hardest trick you ever turned?" 
 
 Naturally I have to let others ask these questions. 
 
 Curiosity on my part would be prejudicial to my 
 
 health. I am on the qui vive for the replies, though. 
 
 "Oh, six months ago, when I lifted an actress' 
 
 pearls," drawled Foxy. 
 
 Fancy how I pricked up my ears. 
 "Tell us about it," said the same youngster. 
 All the young ones sit at Foxy's feet, you under- 
 stand. 
 
 Foxy was nothing loath. "Elegant pearls," he 
 
Thieves* Wit 
 
 279 
 
 said reminiscently, "blue pearls, they called them, 
 though I couldn't see the blue. But fine and choice I 
 It was a long operation. I had to take a job acting 
 in her company a couple of months beforehand. 
 You see she kept the real pearls in a safety deposit 
 box, and wore a phony string, which added to our 
 difficulties. First I had to persuade her to wear 
 the real pearls one night." 
 
 "How did you do that?" somebody asked. 
 "I egged on the leading man to make a bet with 
 her that he could tell the real from the phony." 
 "Was he in with you?" 
 
 "No, indeed. Innocent as a lamb. He didn't 
 know that I put the idea in his mind." 
 
 "Foxy is a wonder to manage 1" put in Jumbo. 
 "After the bet was made, we had the actress 
 trailed every day until she went to the bank and 
 got out her pearls. Then we knew she would weai 
 them that night. She wore them in the first act. In 
 the seco.nd she had on a nurse's costume, and had to 
 leave them off. My next job was to get her maid out 
 of the dressing-room during the second act. I man- 
 aged this by having it gossiped around the company 
 that the star was going to introduce some new busi- 
 ness chat night, and so the maid went out to look on, 
 
 see ? So I went in her dressing-room " 
 
 "How did you get in ?" asked some one. 
 
 "Walked in straight as if I had a good right to. 
 
 There was no other way. I frisked the room, but 
 
 could only find one string of pearls. You see, I 
 
 counted on two, the phony and the real. I couldn't 
 
28o 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 i 
 
 tell which was which. I had arranged to have a 
 fellow who was in with us, a pearl expert call on 
 me between the acts. I saw him at the stage door, 
 and showed him the string I had. He said they 
 werj phony. So I had to do it all over. 
 
 "During the third act, however, luck was with me. 
 The actress' maid not having seen anything new in 
 the second act left the dressing-room of her own ac 
 cord to watch the scene. I went in again. This time 
 I found the real thing in a pocket of the petticoat 
 she had worn in the second act. I left the phony 
 strmg in its place. 
 
 "And they never got on to you!" said his ad- 
 mirer. 
 
 "Nahl That was where Enderby came in. He 
 fixed the crime on the young leading man and broke 
 up the show. Lord! I laughed. It let me out, 
 too. I was sick of the fool business of acting every 
 night. It wasn't till lately that Enderby got it in 
 his head that he'd made a mistake. It's too late 
 now. The pearls have been sold and the swae 
 divided." * 
 
 Jumbo took a hand in the tale at this point. "Let 
 me tell you the joke about selling the pearls," said 
 he. "Me and slim Foley set up an elegant office on 
 Maiden Lane, with stenographers and office boys 
 and all, everything swell. We were brokers in 
 precious stones, see? We sent out decoy letters to 
 the leading man Foxy mentioned, and I'lii blest if 
 we didn't seU him the string of pearls back again. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 281 
 
 Then he gave them to the actn ». , the fool, and she 
 fired him and bust up the company." 
 
 "But I don't understand," said the young fellow, 
 "what did you want to sell them to him for? Risky 
 business I should say." 
 
 "Don't ask me," said Jumbo with a shrug. 
 "Orders from higher up." 
 
 This suggests a new line of thought, doesn't it? 
 
 During one of Lorina's brief visits to the dining- 
 room, she was pleased to commend me for my work 
 last night. Sh; asked me to come to her down-town 
 office to-morrow afternoon as soon as I finished 
 work. I enclose the card she gave me with *-«r ad- 
 dress.* Subtle irony, eh? 
 
 To-morrow night I'll report on what happens 
 there. 
 
 J.M. 
 
 J.M. #19 
 
 New York, July yth. 
 The number on Fifth avenue given me was not a 
 great distance from Dunsany's and I was there by 
 5:15 this afternoon. It is one of the older office 
 buildings and is filled with the most respectable 
 tenants, mostly firms engaged in some form of re- 
 ligious business: publishers, mission boards, church 
 
 •The card enclotcd by Mr. Dunsany read: 
 
 THE EARNEST WORKERS PUBLISHING CO., 
 
 No. — Fifth Av.-nue, Ne\» York. 
 Mri. Lorina Manifield, Manager. 
 
282 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 •uppliei, etc. It ii amusing to think of Lorina in 
 luch company. 
 
 Lorina't office, of course, was no whit less respec- 
 table in appearance than a hundred others in the 
 building. There was a respectable elderly steno- 
 grapher, a subdued office boy, and Lorina herself 
 playing her part of the saleswoman of religious 
 literature in a starched shirt waist. She waved me 
 to a seat beside her desit, and started right in to 
 sell me a consignment of tracts. I conf :ss I was a 
 bit da^ed by the scene. 
 
 At five-thirty thi resper able stenographer and 
 the subdued office-boy asked her humbly if she de- 
 sired them any further, and upon receiving a nega- 
 tive departed. 
 
 When the door closed behind them Lorina yawned, 
 stretched, and swore softlyr— to take the religious 
 taste out of her mouth, I suppose. I laughed, but 
 she didn't I'ke it. I have discovered that laughter 
 makes these people uneasy. 
 
 "Cut it out!" she said frowning. 
 I apologised. 
 
 "English," sht said, "Jumbo told me that you 
 would be glad to get a little extra work as a diamond 
 expert." 
 
 I nodded, wondering what was coming next. 
 "There's a friend of mine a jewel-broker next 
 door," she went on, nodding towards the adjoining 
 room. His business is so full of risks from thieves, 
 you know, that he decided the best way to fool them 
 would be to take an humble little office in this build- 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 283 
 
 ing without to much as an extra lock on the Hoor to 
 give warning." 
 
 Lorina only handed out this line of talk to save 
 her face. I was not expected to belie\ r it. These 
 people are never frank with each other, even when 
 there's nothing to be gained by bluffing. It is only 
 when the men have been drirking that things are 
 called by their right names. 
 
 "My friend needs an assistant, a diamond expert," 
 Lorina continued. "For a couple of months now, 
 he's been at his wit's end to find a man he could trust. 
 Jumbo said you were just the man for t' job so I 
 recommended you, and my friend told i.ic to bring 
 you around." 
 
 I nodded sagely to all this palaver. "Am I 
 to give up my job at Dunsany's?" I asked, hoping 
 that the answer would be in the affirmative. 
 
 "No," she said. "That's a good thing, too. 
 This new job will only take an hour or two in the 
 evenings and on Saturday afternoons." 
 
 She arose and tapped in a peculiar way on the 
 door that led into the adjoining office. Some one 
 got up within, and unlocked and opened it. Fortu- 
 nately as a result of all that has happened during the 
 past few weeks I have my nerves under strict control, 
 for 1 got a shock. There stood Freer, the missing 
 ex-head of my pearl department ! 
 
 We were introduced. Freer saw nothing suspi- 
 cious in my aspect. There was a lot of palaver 
 .vhich I will not tire you with. The upshot of it 
 was that I was engaged to assist my late assistant at 
 
284 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 I 
 
 il; 
 
 a handsome salary. For the present I was to work 
 from 5:15 to 6:30 every evening, as well as Satur- 
 day afternoons, and Sunday mornings if necessary. 
 
 I do not hke to work late at night," said Freer 
 nervously. "It attracts attention." 
 
 Freer undertook then and there to explain my 
 dut.es. 'My work is with the pearls," he said, 
 and the diamond end of the business has been ne- 
 glected smce I lost my last assistant two months 
 ago. 
 
 "He died," remarked Lorina with a peculiar look 
 at me. 
 
 I got her meaning. 
 
 Against one wall of Freer's office was a large 
 letter file with drawers that pulled out, and a shutter 
 to pull down over the whole at night, and lock. It 
 was bu.lt entirely of steel as the modern custom is. 
 Freer pulled out one of the drawers but instead of 
 letters .nside, my amazed eyes beheld a heap of 
 gleaming diamond jewelry. There were necklaces, 
 dogHcollars lavalheres, pins, bracelets, rings. I 
 wondered .f the thirty-odd remaining drawers were 
 hlled w.th hke treasures, and made a breathless 
 mental computation of their value-millions I It 
 was a modern burlesque of the scene in Aladdin's 
 cave I 
 
 Freer, referring to the drawer he held open said: 
 
 Iftese are cons.gnments of diamonds lately re- 
 
 ce.ved, wh.ch I have not had the time to inventory. 
 
 rou see each arhde is tagged with a number. You 
 
 are to take them in numerical order, enter a care- 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 285 
 
 ful description and valuation in a journal, then de- 
 mount the stones, weigh them, grade them and put 
 them in stock." 
 
 He opened several other drawers which contained 
 princely treasures of unset diamonds lying on white 
 cotton. They were carefully graded according to 
 size, colour, quality. Here apparently is the loot of 
 years past. I could not begin to give any estimate 
 of its value. I have not seen the pearls yet. 
 
 "The other part of your work," Freer went on, 
 "will be to fill the orders for diamonds that are 
 received." He showed me several order slips, evi- 
 dently from the phraseology, made out by experi- 
 enced jewellers, but bearing no shipping directions. 
 "Am I to send these orders out?" I asked with 
 a simple air. 
 
 He shook his head. "Enter the orders in the or- 
 der book, fill them from stock, and turn them over to 
 me." 
 
 "Mind you do not carry your work to the win- 
 dow," put in Lorina sharply. 
 I nodded. 
 
 "Mind you do not leave anything about at night," 
 added Freer, "no tools, no papers. The women 
 come in here to clean after we are gone." 
 
 He showed me where the tools of my trade were 
 kept. In addition to everything else needful, in 
 a locked cabinet there is a beautiful little electric 
 crucible for melting down gold and platinum. 
 
 I immediately set to work under the eyes of Lo- 
 rina and Freer. 
 
286 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 You can imagine in what excitement I now write 
 this. Our work is donel-or almost done, for we 
 
 riiU T ^" ^r ' ""' °" *'^'** mysterious and tcr- 
 nble boss . For a moment I thought it might be 
 
 mTJI M ''VM?"'"l'^'"'* *° ^""» " *e rest. 
 uTr! I- ,'"L^''" ' ''*"' ^^ »''^" ""ke-if there 
 » no shpl We must do our best of course to en- 
 sure complete success, but I beg of you not to risk 
 too far what we have in our grasp, in the hope of 
 gettmg more I confess I am a little scared by the 
 magnitude of the developments to-day. Do not 
 wait too long before delivering your master stroke I 
 
 JM. 
 
28 
 
 'T'O resume my own part in these matters, you 
 
 X can conceive what a great responsibility de- 
 volved upon me in the light of these two last re- 
 ports. I did not have to have Mr. Dunsany re- 
 
 T J"f/' ?• J '"" ^^' " P'^'y"- '■" => <^^ose game 
 who holds the best card. The question was when 
 to play ,t One may easily hold one's trumps too 
 long Still I could not bear to show my hand with- 
 out the assurance of taking the king, i. e., the "boss." 
 5>o 1 still held off, though the tension was frightful 
 particularly on poor Dunsany. In every subsequent 
 report he begged me to strike, and take our chance 
 of getting our man through the disclosures sure to 
 be made in the general crash. There was more up 
 on this game than cards were ever played for 
 
 In the meantime I was straining every nerve to 
 pick up a due to the "boss." I knew that we must 
 get him in the end if we could hold off long enough 
 1 arranged a meeting with the boy Blondy, and 
 cross-examined him for hours. The poor youn«ter 
 was only too anxious to teU me what he knewrbut 
 he could not help me. 
 
 tn^lh'''^ th« Lorina never sent any of the men 
 to the boss. All communications between them were 
 made without the aid of a third party. Some of 
 the men, he said, affected to believe that the boss 
 aSr 
 
288 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 was a myth invented by Lorina to keep them in awe. 
 1 had, however, good reason in my reports to know 
 that the boss was a real man. 
 
 I put the most skilful :voman operative I could 
 
 frTh' °«" L"""'''" t"il- It appeared, however, 
 from her first report that Lorina was instantly aware 
 of bemg watched and fooled the operative at her 
 pleasure. Thus she became a danger to me instead 
 of a help, smce Lorina with her infernal cleverness 
 might very easily have found a way to intercept our 
 commun.cat,ons. Sb I discharged the operative two 
 days after I hired her. 
 
 In justice to Mr. Dunsany, who hourly ran such 
 a terrible mk, I now took the police into my con- 
 fidence. The chief of the detective bureau at this 
 time was Lanman, a man I had ah.ays respected 
 for his contempt of spectacular methods and his 
 strong sense. I went to see him. 
 
 He did not know me, of course. He listened to 
 my story with an incredulous grin. He has an as- 
 pect as grim and forbidding as a granite cliff. But 
 as 1 piled up my evidence, and read from Mr. Dun- 
 sany s report, I shook the cliff. I had the satisfac 
 tion of seeing the granite betray excitement. 
 
 When I was dene he was convinced. He was 
 frankly envious of my hick in obtaining such a case 
 and of my success with it, but he showed a disposi- 
 tion to play absolutely fair. I had been afraid that 
 
 Lanman agreed that it was best to hold" off for a 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 289 
 
 day or two longer in the hope of getting the "boss." 
 
 In the meantime he secured a room at # Fifth 
 
 avenue on the same floor where Lorina had her of- 
 fices, and there every day during the hours while 
 Mr. Dunsany was at work, waited six men within 
 call. We next secured quarters in the little hotel 
 three doors from Lorina's house, and every night 
 ten of Lanman's mqn were domiciled there. Signals 
 were agreed on in case of need. 
 
 Matters stood thus at the end of the week whose 
 beginning had witnessed the Newport robbery. On 
 Friday morning Irma Ham^rton came to town again. 
 I witnessed her arrival in the lobby of the Rotter- 
 dam, which you will remember was her hotel before 
 it had been mine. Every cne sat up and stared. 
 She was as lovely as only herself, but I thought, 
 looked harassed. Mount was attending her like 
 a shadow, smoother, more elegant and more com- 
 placent than ever. 
 
 With a fanciful, sentimental feeling I had engaged 
 rooms on the same floor of the hotel as Irma's. Her 
 suite '.as rented by the year. During the morning 
 as I went to and fro in the corridor of the eleventh 
 floor, I could not help but notice an unusual stir in 
 the neighbourhood of Irma's rooms. Messengers 
 were flying, packages arriving, and the switchboard 
 busy. 
 
 There is a telephone switchboard on each floor of 
 the Rotterdam, opposite the elevators. In addition 
 to answering the calls, the operator is supposed to 
 keep an eye on things generally. While I was wait- 
 
290 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 ing for the elevator I asked the girl on our floor 
 w*at was the cause of the excitement. She said she 
 didn't know, but said it with a simper and a toss 
 of the head that added to my uneasiness. Down- 
 stairs I asked the clerk with whom I was on friendly 
 terms, but with no better success. 
 
 While I was hanging around the lobby, Irma and 
 Mount came down. They took a taxi at the door. 
 FoUowmg a sudden impulse I engaged the next in 
 me, and ordered the driver to follow them. They 
 led me through the maze of down-town traffic direct 
 to the Municipal Building. They disappeared in 
 the bureau of Marriage Licenses, and my worst 
 fears were confirmed. 
 
 This time I determined to act without consulting 
 my passionate, headstrong friend. I hastened back 
 to the hotel. I had evidence that the ceremony was 
 to be performed there, most likely the same after- 
 noon. I wrote Irma a ,iofe begging her to see me 
 privately on a matter of the greatest importance. 
 1 signed it with my assumed name Boardman, but I 
 had worded it in such a way that she would know 
 It was from me. Moreover she knew my hand- 
 wntmg. I sent it to her room in advance of her 
 return. There was a chance of course that some 
 one else might open it, but I knew she made a general 
 practice of opening her own letters. 
 
 A little before two o'clock, I got a summons and 
 hastened to her suite. She started back dubiously 
 at the sight of me, but I soon identifie : myself. She 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 291 
 
 was alone. The room was filled with orange blos- 
 soms. The scent sickened me. 
 "V/here is Mr. Mount?" I asked. 
 "I sent him away for an hour," she answered, 
 blushing. 
 
 "Are we quite alone?" 
 
 "Bella and Marie are in my bedroom. That is 
 two rooms away." 
 
 Bella was Mrs. Bleecker; Marie her maid. 
 "Laying out your wedding-dress, I suppose," 
 said I. 
 
 She started and blushed deeply. "You know?" 
 she murmured. 
 "Is it a secret?" 
 
 "Not from you. I didn't know where to reach 
 you by phone." 
 
 There was a somewhat painful silence. I did not 
 feel inclined to make things easy for her. 
 
 "Aren't you — aren't you going to congratulate 
 me ?" she murmured at last. 
 "No," I said bluntly. 
 
 She looked at me full of surprise and pain, like a 
 hurt child, but I was hurt, too, and impenitent. 
 
 "Oh, Irma, how could you?" I cried at last. It 
 was the first time I had ever addressed her so. At 
 the moment neither of us noticed it. 
 
 My question confused her. "I — I don't know," 
 was her strange answer. 
 
 Presently she recovered herself somewhat. "Why 
 shouldn't I?" she demanded, showing fight. 
 
 H 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
292 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 I shrugged. "I don't know. I have no rea.on.. 
 r ou should be guided by your instinct." 
 
 .'.'J?* '* ^°'^ '° '"'•" *•"' "'<1 defiantly. 
 Naturally, he sees his interest." 
 I can't remember all that was said on both sides 
 Ihe conversation was sufficiently painful. She was 
 
 "°'^l J-V "': ^'"""y "''' •"=«»" t° tumble. 
 
 Why did you leave me ?" she faltered. "I asked 
 you to help me. You have avoided me all these 
 weeks. I needed you. It's cruel and useless for 
 
 you to come now, when it is too late and— and " 
 
 I have been working for you I" I cried. "I 
 thought I could trust your instinct." 
 
 "I had no intention of marrying at first," she 
 
 WK ^-7?" ""^ ^ ^^'^^ "8° ^'^^ ^" coming. 
 Why didn t you speak t.^en if you had anything to 
 say. It's too late now." 
 
 ''It's never too late if you have a doubt," I cried. 
 But he—Alfred will be here at four," she stam- 
 
 ""t /i" clergyman— and my friends " 
 
 Let Alfred go away again," I said coolly. 
 Her eyes widened like a frightened child's "I 
 dare not I" she whispered. "You don't know I He 
 is a terrible man!" 
 
 "I'll back you up," I said. 
 
 PlZet.""'" "■""•" "'""'■°" """"" 
 
 I took a new tack. 
 
 "Why don't you ask me the result of my work 
 the last few weeks?" I asked. 
 
 "What do you mean?" 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 293 
 
 I had brought for the purpose, that report of 
 Mr. Dunsany's in which Foxy had told how the theft 
 of Irma's pearls had been accomplished. I ex- 
 plained to Irma how this report had been secured, 
 and then I read it to her. Joy and horror strug- 
 gled together in her face. 
 
 "You knew this long ago!" she cried accusingly. 
 "Why didn't you tell me before?" 
 
 "Roland forbade it. I am breaking my word to 
 him in telling you now." 
 
 "He no longer cares then what I think 1" 
 
 I shrugged. 
 
 She walked up and down the room like one dis- 
 traught. 
 
 "Knowing that Roland is innocent would you dare 
 to marry Mount?" I asked. 
 
 "It is too latel" she cried. 
 
 At this moment we were warned by a sound in the 
 next room to pull ourselves together. The door 
 opened and Mrs. Bleecker's fawning countenance 
 appeared in the opening. 
 
 "Oh, I beg your pardon," she said, cringing. "I 
 didn't know you were still engaged." She did not 
 withdraw, however, but favoured me with a good, 
 long stare. 
 
 I never saw the gentle Irma so angry. "Leave the 
 room I" she commanded. "I told you I was not to 
 be disturbed!" 
 
 If she had always taken the same tone with that 
 woman it would have been better for her. Mrs. 
 Bleecker precipitately retired. 
 
 i i| 
 
 Til 
 
294 
 
 Thieves* Wit 
 
 Irma continued to pace the floor. "What shall I 
 do?" she murmured, twisting her hands together. 
 "I have not the strength to face him out." 
 
 "Don't try," I suggested. 
 
 "What J 3 you mean?" 
 
 "Beat it," I said in homely slang. 
 
 A gleam of lisjht, of miwhief appeared in her tor- 
 tured face. "But how?— where? Will you go with 
 me ?" she cried breathlessly. "What will I do about 
 the women here? What explanation shall I make?" 
 
 "One thing at a timel" I protested. "Make no 
 explanation. You are your own mistress. If you 
 like you can leave Alfred a note saying you have 
 changed your mind. As to the women — , — " 
 
 "I can trust Marie." 
 
 "Very well. Send Mrs. Bleecker out on an er- 
 rand. No trouble to invent an errand at this junc- 
 ture. You can be gone when she returns." 
 
 "Will you come with me ?" 
 
 I shook my head. "Matters arc rapidly ap- 
 proaching a crisis," I said. "I must stay on the job." 
 "But where will I go?" 
 
 "That's up to you. I can only offer a subiks- 
 tion " "* 
 
 "Yes I Yes I Don't tease me." 
 
 "You have a difficult time ahead of you. I think 
 you need a man's support." 
 
 A crimson tide swept up from her neck. 
 
 "I would put on my oldest and plainest suit," I 
 went on wickedly, "and go register at some quiet 
 little hotel, the last place they would think of look- 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 295 
 
 ing for you. I will give you the name of luch a 
 place. At fi\ <.-i.iirty thii afternoon I would go to 
 a certain horrible cheap little restaurant known as 
 the American cafe, which ii on Third avenue near 
 Sixteenth street. Half-past five remember, and jui; 
 see what happens." 
 
 "If you would only come with me — I mean as far 
 as the door," she murmured in confusion. 
 
 "Too risky," I said. "Mind I do not guarantee 
 anything in any event. It's up to you. A certain 
 young friend of ours has the pride of Lucifer, and 
 you have made a ghastly wound in it. You will have 
 to humble yourself shockingly." 
 
 In her present mood I saw she was quite ready 
 to do that. 
 
 "This is what I'm counting on," I went on. "Pride 
 is pretty poor fare. Let him act as high and mighty 
 as he likes, he's really starving for all that makes 
 life worth living. The unexpected sight of you 
 ought to be like a feast to his eyes. I'm hoping he'll 
 fall to, before his damnable pride has a chance to 
 bring up reserves. One thing more. If anything 
 prevents him from supping there as usual, he lives 
 at # — East Seventeenth street." 
 
 "Are you sure he loves me still?" she whispered. 
 
 "Not at all sure," I said coolly. "You'll have to 
 go and find out. If you've lost him, you've lost a 
 lover that was worth a woman's while." 
 
 
29 
 
 /k Ilf ^/i."* *t'" l""f "'^'y °« °' 'he Rotter, 
 her plam black dre.. .„d mode.t hat than in «U her 
 finery), I went back to my own roomi in the hotel. 
 I wa. expecting a telephone report from a man 
 whom I had lent to pick up what he could at the 
 garage where Lorina itored her car. Meanwhile 
 I gave myse.f up to the joy of picturing Mr.. Bleeck- 
 
 ll'irZt"' '^^ IT""^ ''°'" ^" hypothetical 
 errand, and Mount s black rage when he dropped in 
 
 b' ilr i\^". '"f"''* ""^ '"""'' himself minu. a 
 cITa J i ''^'5" iuspected that Mount con- 
 cealed tigensh tendcnciei under his too-smooth ex- 
 tenor. 
 
 th^L^nf ^^ ">y telephone did ring, but it was not 
 *e man I expected. An agitated young voice haUed 
 me oyer the wire, which I had some difficulty in rec 
 ogTiising as Blondy's. He was so excited I could 
 not make head or tail of hi, message. When I got 
 him straightened out it ran something like thisf 
 
 I have just been at Mrs. Mansfield's office. I 
 mean the down-town office. Sh: told me last night 
 
 ^ZTJI^V f':.^^ ' P''^'«'' '° he taken to 
 ■Tu V f "°*'l Madagascar. I was sitting be- 
 side her desk and she was writing a letter to go with 
 the package, when the telephone beU rang. She 
 J96 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 297 
 
 Icnowi how to talk over the telephone without giv- 
 ing anything away. All the laid was 'ye»' and 'no' 
 and 'repeat that," but I taw that it wat important be- 
 cause her face changed and her eyei glittered. When 
 she looks like that it means danger. 
 
 "She was talking to a woman called Bella. 
 
 "She made some notes on a pad. As soon as she 
 rang off she jumped up. She said she was called 
 out and told me I needn't wait because she wouldn't 
 send the package until to morrow. When she 
 t ned to get her hat I managed to tatch a glimpse 
 of the notes she had put down. She had written : 
 
 "Elegantly-dressed man of fifty. 
 
 Silvery toupee, waxed moustache, pale face. 
 
 Brown suit, waistcoat edged "vith white. 
 
 White spats, white sloves. 
 
 Expensive Panama hat, fancy band green and red. 
 
 Koora 1104." 
 
 "This is your description, and this is the number 
 of your room. I was scared when I saw the expres- 
 sion of her face. She sent me home. She left at 
 the same time, and took a taxi at the door. She 
 carries her gun in a kind of pocket in her skirt. Look 
 out for her I" 
 
 "I get y.u, old boyl" I cried. "You've done me 
 a good turn and I shan't forget it. Don't you 
 worry." 
 
 I hung up the receiver, and did a little thinking. 
 I was struck by the name of the woman who had 
 called Lorina up, Bella. It is not a very common 
 
298 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 name. It was Mrs. Bleecker's name. Was this a 
 new thread in my extraordinary tangle? 
 
 It was decidedly awkward to have my disguise 
 laid bare just at ihis moment. However, fore- 
 warned is forearmed. I set about putting my affairs 
 in order. I did not know whether Lorina would 
 visit the Rotterdam or not, but I was sure she would 
 not do so without making her usual careful arrange- 
 ments, and not probably, without disguising herself, 
 all of which would take time. I gave myself an 
 hour, anyway. 
 
 I gathered my papers together, and despatched 
 
 those of them I valued to Dr. , who had been 
 
 so good to me already. I wrote notes to Mr. Dun- 
 sany, Blondy and other agents instructing them to 
 send their reports in the care of Oscar Nilson until 
 they heard from me again. All the beautiful sar- 
 torial effects I had to leave behind me. Maybe I 
 could redeem them later if they were not sold by 
 the hotel to pay my bill. 
 
 It was close upon four and I supposed the wed- 
 ding-guests were gathering, when my telephone sum- 
 moned me again. 
 
 "Miss Sadie Farrell is calling," said the voice at 
 the other end. 
 
 My heart jumped, but simultaneously Caution 
 held up a warning finger. "One moment," I an- 
 swered. 
 
 I did some rapid thinking. I did not keep the 
 girl waiting an appreciable moment, but in that time 
 I thought a whole chapter, as one may do in a crisis. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 299 
 
 Not Sadie I Better sense instantly told me she 
 would never come to my hotel. She had a more ex- 
 alted notion of what was due her. Lorina, of 
 course. She had used the most obvious expedient of 
 reaching my rooms. I had three alternatives: 
 
 (a) To deny myself to her. But in that case I 
 would virtually be besieged in the hotel. 
 
 (b) To see her down-stairs. She would hardly 
 take a shot at me in the crowded lobby — ^but she 
 might very well have some half-crazed youth there 
 to do it for her. 
 
 (c) To have her up-stairs, where she could not 
 pass any signals outside. I had two rooms 
 
 "Please have Miss Farrell come up-stairs," I said 
 over the phone. 
 
 I had one of the best suites at the Rotterdam, a 
 coiner room which was my parlour, and a bedroom. 
 I put the key to the parlour door in my pocket, re- 
 tired into the bedroom, and locked the communicat- 
 ing door. Presently I heard the bell-boy's knock 
 on the parlour door. 
 
 "Come in 1" I sang out. 
 
 Through the door I heard the sounds of two peo- 
 ple entering my parlour. 
 
 "Hello, Sadie I" I cried. "Make yourself at 
 home. I'll be dressed in a jiffy I" 
 
 An indistinguishable murmur answered me. This 
 was certainly not my Sadie. 
 
 The bell-boy went out, and I heard him retiring 
 down the hall. I gave him time to get out of the 
 way, then I slipped out of the bedroom into the hall. 
 
 I 
 
 iil 
 
300 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 key to the other room in hand. I inserted it ever 
 so idftly in the parlour door, and turned it. But 
 she heard 1 She rushed to the door and shook it. 
 By that time I was around the corner of the cor- 
 ridor. 
 
 The telephone girl looked at me somewhat curi- 
 ously as I pressed the elevator button, but did not 
 quite like to question me. She knew, of course, that 
 a caller had just been shown into my room. 
 "I'll be back in a minute," I said carelessly. 
 Just then I saw the number of my room 1104 dis- 
 played on the switthboard. Lorina had rushed to 
 the phone. 
 
 "Is there a drugstore in the hotel?" I asked the 
 girl at random, to distract her attention. 
 
 "No, sir. There is one opposite the Thirty- 
 fourth street entrance." 
 
 The elevator was approaching my floor. I 
 needed one more second to make my getaway. "Is 
 it a reliable place?" I asked. 
 
 'Conway's," she said, holding the plug ready in 
 her hand, "one of the largest in town." 
 
 The elevator door was now open, and I stepped 
 aboard. The operator shoved the plug in, and an- 
 swered the call. I was carried down. 
 
 I could not tell, of course, what form I^rina's ap- 
 peal for help would take. In case she might tele- 
 phone to have me intercepted in the lobby, I took 
 the precaution to get off at the mezzanine floor. I 
 passed around the gallery to the other side of the 
 building, and gained the street without interference. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 301 
 
 So there I was safe, but once more homeless. 
 
 A gaily-dressed couple left the hotel immediately 
 in front of me. The woman was talking rather ex- 
 citedly. Reaching the pavement I saw that the 
 talker was Miss Beulah Maddox, late of Irma's 
 company. Of coarse I No difficulty in guessing what 
 she was excited about. They turned West on 
 Thirty-fourth street. I was bound in the same 
 direction. 1 heard her say: 
 
 "Of course nobody believes she's sick. What can 
 be the matter?" 
 
 "They've had a row I suppose," replied her com- 
 panion. 
 
 Half a dozen steps farther along, they met an- 
 other couple likewise gloriously arrayed. I did not 
 know these two, but it required little perspicacity to 
 guess that they too belonged to the profession. 
 Miss Maddox greeted them with a squeal of excite- 
 ment. 
 
 "Oh, my dears/" 
 
 It was risky, but I could not forbear stopping a 
 moment to listen. I made out to be looking for a 
 taxi. 
 
 ^^ "What do you thinkf" cried Miss Maddox. 
 "There's no use your going any farther! There 
 iSii t going to be any wedding I" 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Nobody knows. Another extraordinary caprice 
 of Irma's 1 Everybody is told at the desk that she 
 IS ill, and the ceremony postponed, but of course 
 that's only an excuse. I had a glimpse of Mr. 
 
 } :, 
 I* 
 
302 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 Mount and he looked simply furious, my dear I" 
 
 And so on I And so on ! A taxi drew up and I 
 jumped in. 
 
 I had myself taken to Oscar's shop, and in one 
 of the little cubicles, the distinguishing marks of the 
 elegant Mr. Boardman, late of the Rotterdam, were 
 removed. It would nave been fun to adopt another 
 swell makeup and go back to the Rotterdam to see 
 what was happening, but it was too risky. It was 
 safer for me to play an humble character now. 
 
 Oscar provided me with a longish mop of black 
 hair, and a pair of heavy black eye-brows. He went 
 out himself to get me the rough clothes I needed. 
 An hour after I had gone into his shop I came out 
 again, a typical representative of tough young New 
 York. The Hudson Dusters would not have re- 
 jected me. 
 
 It was now nearly half-past five. The hands of 
 the clock reminded me of the meeting that I had 
 arranged to bring about at that hour. My heart 
 was very keen for the success of *his meeting, yet I 
 was full of uncomfortable doubts. Now that I had 
 changed my character I felt that I might safely go 
 and see how things turned out, so I turned my steps 
 in the direction of the American cafe on Third 
 avenue. 
 
 When I got there Roland was already eating his 
 supper. No sign of Irma yet. The American is 
 one of those older lunchrooms where they have 
 long mahogany tables each decorated with a row of 
 sugar bowls and sauce bottles with squirt tops. In 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 303 
 
 such places one of the squirt tops still gives "pepper 
 sauce" though I never saw anybody use it. There 
 was a double row of long tables with a lane between. 
 Roland had the wall seat of the first table on the 
 right. His shorthand book was propped against a 
 vinegar bottle, and he studied it while he fed himself. 
 
 I took a seat two removes from him on the same 
 side of the table. He paid no attention to me. I 
 took this distance, because if Irma came I didn't 
 want to hear too much. No one was likely to sit 
 between us, so long as there were whole tables 
 vacant. It was a little early for the supper hour, 
 and there were few in the place. 
 
 I ordered the piece de resistance of such places, 
 viz.: a plate of beef stew. Roland was almost 
 through his supper, and I wondered apprehensively 
 if Irma meant to exercise her woman's prerogative 
 of being late. Perhaps her nerve had failed her, 
 and she would not come. She had burned her 
 bridges though. What else could she do but come ? 
 From time to time I glanced in my young friend's 
 face. It was pale and drawn. Verily, I thought, 
 his infernal pride was sapping his youth. 
 
 Then I saw Irma an'^ my heart set up a great 
 beating. It's a risky ^ning to presume to play 
 Providence to a pair of young souls, one of whom is 
 as explosive as guncotton. What was going to hap- 
 pen? Irma was hovering about outside. She 
 glanced in the place nervously. Unfortunately there 
 was no other woman eating there at the moment, 
 though women did come to the place. Irma walked 
 
 ' I 
 
304 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 on. Had she given up? My heart sunk. No, 
 presently she came strolling back. She meant to 
 wait for him outside. I approved her good sense. 
 Plainly dressed though she was, her entrance into 
 that phce would have created a sensation. 
 
 Roland, all unconscious of what was in store, got 
 up, slipped the book in his pocket, paid his score 
 with an abstracted air, and went out. He never 
 looked at me. His brain was full of shorthand 
 symbols. 
 
 I followed him at once, though I had but started 
 my supper. Nobody cared so long as I paid. 
 
 I was just in time to see them come face to face 
 on the pavement outside. 
 
 "Roland I" she whispered with the loveliest smile 
 surely that ever bedecked the human countenance; 
 wistful, supplicating and tender. 
 
 He started back as if he had been shot, and gazed 
 at her with a kind of horror. He did not speak. I 
 expect he could not. Passers-by stared at them curi- 
 ously. Irma lowered her head, and slipping her 
 hand inside his arm with affecting confidence, drew 
 him forward away from the stares. Still he did not 
 speak. He was oblivious to the passers-by, and to 
 everything else but her. He gazed at her like a 
 man in a trance, his dark eyes full of a passionate 
 hunger. She only spoke once more. Raising her 
 eyes to his she moved her lips. I could read them. 
 "I love you," she wnispered. 
 His lips began to tremble. Where were all his 
 proud vows then? 
 
Thieves' Wit 305 
 
 She drew him around the corner into the quieter 
 side street. She was weeping now. When she 
 looked at him I could see the bright drops. They 
 were more potent than any words she could have 
 spoken. Roland suddenly came to life. He 
 stopped short, flung an arm around her, turned up 
 her face and kissed her mouth, careless if all New 
 I ork saw. 
 So that was all right. 
 
 The sight induced me to take the first train out 
 to AmityviUe where I might dine and spend the 
 evening with my dear girl. We were much mystified 
 upon receiving a telegram during the evening signed 
 by my name. To my astonishment I saw English 
 and Freer on the train returning from AmityviUe. 
 The explanation of aU this was forthcoming in the 
 morning. 
 
30 
 
 NEXT morning as soon as Oscar opened his 
 shop, I was on hand to get my mail. I found 
 that big things had happened during the night. 
 
 Report of J. M. No. 23 
 
 Loritufs House 
 
 Saturday, July nth, 3 A.M. 
 
 It is unfortunate that this should be the f^.st 
 night of our association that we are out of touch 
 with each other. I sent home an hour ago to see 
 if there was any word from you. I got your letter, 
 but that only gives me the address of the wig-maker's 
 shop which is, of course, closed until morning. I 
 have to remain on watch here, and I cannot make 
 the hours pass better than by writing you an account 
 of all that has happened. It will save time when 
 we meet. 
 
 I have done the best I could. I followed your 
 instructions to the letter. I do not see how I could 
 have acted differently. I hope you will not blame 
 me. 
 
 As soon as I was through work at Dunsany's this 
 afternoon, I went down to No. — Fifth avenue as 
 usual, to continue my inventory of the gang's dia- 
 monds. Freer is always there when I am, of course. 
 306 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 307 
 
 He's not a bad sort of fellow. There's something 
 sorrowful about him. I think he would prefer on 
 the whole to lead an honest life. He speaks of hav- 
 ing an expensive family to keep. 
 
 As soon as Lorina's stenographer and office boy 
 went home, she came into our room as she usually 
 does. This evening she was in a state of excite- 
 ment. She had evidently been holding herself in 
 some time. The air was lurid with the fire and 
 brimstone she used in apostrophising you. If hate 
 could be sent by wireless you'd be dead this minute, 
 my friend. 
 
 I gathered she had learned during the day 
 that you were at the Rotterdam. But when she 
 went around there with her silencer, you turned the 
 tables on her somehow and not only ^'ot away again, 
 out left her in a very humiliating position. Bully 
 for you I 
 
 "He's slipped through my fingers for the mo- 
 ment 1" she went on, "but I've got a line on his girl 
 again. I'll fix her to-night." 
 
 My heart went duwn at this piece of news. 
 
 "She's at a sanatorium at Amityville," Lorina 
 went on. "I got a servant into the house, and I 
 know her habits. I won't take any chances this 
 time. This is a job for you, English." 
 
 Fancy my feelings I I had no time to think. Yet 
 I had to say something, and quickly, too. I said 
 the natural thing. 
 
 "I won't do it 1" I cried. "I am working for you 
 night and day as it is, good work, tool I didn't 
 
 Hi 
 
3o8 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 engage for murder — a woman too. I won't do it! 
 I'm done with you all I" 
 And I flung down my tools. 
 Lorina took this outburst calmly. She is accus- 
 tomed to it no doubt. She merely looked at Freer, 
 and he got between me and the door. 
 
 "Don't be simple-minded, English," she said con- 
 temptuously. "This is no child's game, that you 
 can refuse to play if you don't like the rules. You're 
 in it for bad or for worse like the rest of us. And 
 I have the means of enforcing my orders I" 
 
 "Not that I" I begged. 
 
 "It was agreed long ago that this woman and this 
 man have got to be put out of the way. You're 
 the only one of the crowd that hasn't been tested 
 out, and the other boys are complaining. Here's 
 your chance to make good. You understand there's 
 no afternative. You're a valuable man to us. 
 but 1" 
 
 I can give you no idea of the effect with which she 
 said this. She is a terrible woman. Her eyes were 
 like points of ice. Meanwhile I was thinking hard. 
 If I did not go, she would undoubtedly find some one 
 else. I might be prevented from warning you. I 
 could not warn iadie direct, because you had never 
 given me her address. In the end I agreed. 
 
 Lorina smiled on me. 
 
 "What are my instructions?" I asked. 
 
 "The girl is at Dr. 's sanatorium," sai4 
 
 Lorina. "You should not get out there before dark, 
 so the seven-thirty train will be the best. There is a 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 309 
 
 twin back from Amityville a little after ten which 
 will land you in town before midniijht." 
 
 She then told me how to rer.ch the sanatorium, 
 and described the layout of the grounds. 
 
 "My report says that the Farrell girl keeps close 
 to the house during the day," she went on, "and 
 walks out at night. Her favourite spot is a pool at 
 the bottom of the lawn, which is surrounded by 
 juniper trees. There is a bench at the southerly 
 side of the pool that she always visits. It is near 
 the public road, and will be no trouble for you to 
 reach. The thick growth of young trees makes 
 plenty of cover." 
 
 "What am I to do when she comes?" I asked. 
 
 Lorina turned her back on me a moment. When 
 
 she faced around she handed me an automatic pistol 
 
 with a curious cylinder affixed to the end of the 
 
 barrel. 
 
 "Use this," she said. "It makes no sound." 
 I slipped it in my pocket. 
 "Freer will go with you," said Lorina. 
 This seemed fatal to my hopes — I had to keep 
 command of my face though. I made believe it 
 was a matter of indifference. To give Freer credit, 
 he did not appear to relish the assignment, but he 
 dared not object either. 
 
 "As soon as you get back you will both come direct 
 to my house," said Lorina. 
 Such were our in'tructions. 
 We went to take the seven-thirty train as ordered. 
 As Freer never left my side I had no opportunity to 
 
310 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 nil you up. I know now that you weren't at the 
 hotel anyway. In the station Freer went to buy the 
 ticketi. I waited on a bench in plain light of him. 
 Next to me sat a nice, leniible looking girl, and I 
 had an inspiration. 
 
 "Will you send a telegram for me?" I asked 
 smiling at her. 
 
 Naturally she was somewhat taken aback. 
 "What do you mean?" she asked. 
 
 "Don't look so surprised," I said, smiling still. 
 "There's a man watching me. He mustn't know. 
 It's terribly important — a question of a life, maybe." 
 
 I was lucky in my girl. She had an adventurous 
 spirit. She smiled back. "Who to?" she asked 
 
 "Have you got a good memory?" 
 
 "First-rate." 
 
 "Miss Farrell, care Doctor 's Sanatorium, 
 
 il^mityville." 
 
 "I have it." 
 
 "Just say : 'Do not leave the house to-night* " 
 
 "Right. Signature?" 
 
 " 'B. Enderby.' You'll find the money to pay for 
 it on the seat when I get up." 
 
 Freer, having secured the tickets, now came to- 
 wards us. I met him half way. He look at me 
 hard. 
 
 "I made a friend," I said, grinning as men do. 
 
 "Humph I" he said sourly. "I shouldn't think 
 you'd be in the humour now." 
 
 I went out to the train with him, giving an amour- 
 ous bacKward glance towards the girl. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 3" 
 
 An hour and a half later we were crouching among 
 
 the young juniper trees at the edge of Dr. 's 
 
 pond. I was reminded of that other night in New- 
 port. Certainly I have led a full life this past week. 
 Once more I waited with my heart in my throat 
 fancying that I heard her approach in all the little 
 sounds of night. Freer was no happier than I, I 
 believe. While we waited in the dark I quietly un- 
 loaded the magazine of the pistol to guard against 
 accidents. 
 
 Once we did hear steps approaching along one of 
 the paths, and held our breaths. But they passed 
 in another direction. If she had come my plan was 
 to secure Freer with her assistance, if she were not 
 too frightened. But she did not come. 
 
 Freer had a tiny electric flash with which he con- 
 sulted^his watch from time to time. He said at last : 
 
 "We can just make the train. It's the only train 
 to-night." 
 
 "Come on," I said. "It isn't our fault if she 
 didn't come." 
 
 "Thank God she didn't I" he said involuntarily. 
 
 I shook hands with him. He was a traitor to me, 
 and a thief, but I forgot it at the moment. 
 
 The trip home was without incident. We got up 
 to Lorina's shortly after midnight. The whole gang 
 was there: Foxy, Jumbo, Jim, Blondy, several of 
 the young fellows, a dozen in all besides Freer and 
 They were all gambling in the dining-room. 
 
 me. 
 
 Lorina jumped up at the sight of us. 
 "Well?" she demanded. 
 
312 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "No good," I said. "The girl never came." 
 
 "Hml" said Lorina. That was all. 
 
 It struck me that she must have known already 
 that we had failed. 
 
 Lorina asked for her pistol, and I handed it over. 
 
 "Boys," said Lorina, "we'll go up to the office and 
 have a council. I was just waiting for these two 
 to come in. We've got to decide what we're going 
 to do about this bull Enderby. He's active again." 
 
 There was something in the tone of this speech, 
 or in the look which accompanied it, that caused the 
 scalp behind my ears to draw and tingle. I began 
 to wonder if I had not risked too much in venturing 
 back into the lion's den this night. However, it 
 was too late for regrets. I put the best face on it 
 I could. 
 
 We trooped up-stairs. Some of the boys had been 
 drinking. There was a good bit of noise. The 
 office as I have already explained is the front room 
 on the second floor. It extends the width of the 
 house, and it has three windows. That on the left 
 is over the portico and stoop. 
 
 At the right of the room is a large flat-topped 
 desk. Lorina sat at it with her back to the fireplace. 
 She motioned me to a seat at her right. The men 
 lounged in chairs about, some of them with their 
 elbows on the desk. Lorina ordered the door 
 closed. I was wondering if I'd ever leave that room 
 alive. 
 
 Lorina rapped on the desk for attention. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 313 
 
 "Boys," she said bl:pcly, "we've got a spy 
 among us." 
 
 Instantly every pair if eves tut.ied on me. I 
 jumped up. My baclc was in the comer. I bluffed 
 them as best I could. 
 
 "What's the matter with you ?" I cried. "I didn't 
 ask you to take me in. You came after me. You 
 gave me your work to do. Haven't I done it? 
 Didn't I deliver the goods at Newport? Didn't 
 I undertake a nasty bit of work to-night? Ask 
 Freer there. And now you turn on me I" 
 
 "Keep quiet 1" commanded Lorina. "You'll 
 have your hearing." 
 
 To the men she said: "For a week I've known 
 there was a leak somewhere, and I wanted to test 
 him. I gave him a job out at Amityville, and I sent 
 Freer with him. I had an agent in the house out 
 there. Well, he didn't pull the job off." 
 
 "Was that my fault ?" I cried. "Ask Freer." 
 
 She turned to Freer. "How about it?" 
 
 "I — I didn't see anything," he stammered. 
 
 "Were you with him all the time?" 
 
 "He was never out of my sight." 
 
 "Be careful how you answer," she said, "or I'll 
 believe you're in with him." 
 
 Freer's face was pale and sweaty. "Well — well 
 — he flirted with a girl in the station. I couldn't 
 hear what he said because, I was buying the tickets. 
 It looked all right." 
 
 "Looked all right I" snarled Lorina. "You fool 1 
 One of Enderby's spies tracked you I" 
 
 >i\ 
 
314 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "I swear we weren't trailed!" cried Freer. "I 
 watched particularly." 
 
 "What time was that?" 
 
 "About quarter past seven." 
 
 "At eight o'clock a telegram was delivered at the 
 Sanatorium," said Lorina. "My agent called me 
 up. It said : 'Do not leave the house to-night,' and 
 was signed 'B. Enderby.' " 
 
 The gang looked at me with a new hatred. 
 
 Lorina laughed harshly. "Oh, this isn't Ender- 
 by," she said. "Enderby was at the Sanatorium 
 to-night seeing his girl. We had the two of them 
 together, and this traitor double-crossed us I" 
 
 They began to move threateningly towards my 
 corner. 
 
 "Keep back I" cried Lorina. "Let's hear what 
 he has to say first." 
 
 I licked my dry lips and did the best I could for 
 myself. "You've got no proof I" I cried. "How 
 could I have sent a telegram. I was never out of 
 Freer's sight. Why should I have signed it Ender- 
 by if Enderby was out there ? You all know I'm no 
 bull but a workman at Dunsany's. I can account 
 for every minute of my time since Jumbo first picked 
 me up I" 
 
 Lorina was nearer me than any of the men. She 
 took a step forward. I guarded my face. But 
 that was not her point of attack. Her hand shot 
 out, and the wig was snatched from my head. There 
 I stood with my bare poll. The jig was up, 
 
 A loud laugh broke from the men — ^jackals' laugh- 
 
Thieves' V/it 
 
 315 
 
 ter, before tearing their prey. A different kind of 
 sound came from Freer. 
 
 "My God! it's Mr. Dunsany!" he gasped. 
 
 "Eh?"8aidLorina. 
 
 "Walter Dunsany," he repeated, staring as if he 
 saw a ghost. 
 
 "Is this true?" she demanded of me. 
 
 I felt as if the worst were over now. A sudden 
 calmness descended on me. It was a sort of relief 
 to be able to be myself. "Quite true," I said. 
 
 "What's your game?" she demanded scowling. 
 
 "Do you need to ask?" 
 
 There was a commotion among the men. I heard 
 different exclamations and demands. Some were 
 for despatching me on the spot ; one suggested I be 
 held for a million dollars' ransom. 
 
 Lorina turned on the last speaker. "You fool !" 
 she cried. "Ten millions wouldn't save him 1 He 
 gets a perpetual lodging in my cellar!" 
 
 Cries of approval, more laughter greeted this. 
 
 From her dress Lorina drew the gun I had given 
 her a little while before. "Hands up!" she com- 
 manded. 
 
 Now I knew it was not loaded, and I had a loaded 
 gun in my pocket. But so had every other man 
 there, and all had more practice in drawing their 
 weapons than I. So I thought it best to obey. Up 
 went my hands. 
 
 "Foxy, Jim, frisk him!" said Lorina. 
 
 They found the gun, and flung it on the dak. 
 
3i6 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 Lorina dropped it in the middle drawer. There 
 was nothing else incriminating upon me 
 
 Down on the floor with himi" cried somebody. 
 
 findirL ••" '"""''• "^^•" "•= -''- - - 
 
 "slT^t' "' *''' little straw of hope that showed. 
 
 Send them out and I'll talk freely," I „,uttered. 
 
 I ve no mmd to be shot when I'm not looking." 
 Uvcr-confidence betrayed her. With a mm In 
 her l..d she felt herself more than a matcJ f^a J 
 unarmed man. By a fatal oversight she never 
 
 ruttV: "\'' '" 7"^°" "''^ '-'^'^- She d"r 
 
 tholft """KT ^"' " ^ '^"^^- ''"'J P"haps she 
 thought I might have something to say which it was 
 better they shouldn't hear. They grumbleJ Z 
 she was absolute mistress there. She ordered the.^ 
 out of the room. 
 
 "Shut the door," she said. "Wait outside. Do 
 not come in unless I call you." 
 
 Jrli^ T^^ *'', ""'* '^°°' '°^'''^' '•"d get my gun 
 a iS. l"T ''""? '^!' ^"^'^ ''PP''^'*'^ *h<. win'dfws 
 to ston 1 " K '"'■ ^u ""' "''"^' "° ""°"'' »«empt 
 Iha? Kf ttrom'"^ ^^^ "° ^°^^'"^ ""P' '" 
 ''What have you got to tell me?" she said. 
 
 second t" i^" ^"^ '° ^°''^" ^ P^"''''^- Every 
 second I could gain was precious. 
 
 "Stand still 1" she commanded. "Where is 
 Fnderby to-night?" " 
 
 'At the Sanatorium, you said." 
 ■ "^' returned on the same train you did." 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 317 
 
 "I didn't know it. I wish I had." 
 "Well, where is he now?" 
 "At the Rotterdam, I suppose." 
 
 watdJed'-^' "°* """" '""'^ ^^"''' ^ '"''"' ^^^ P^'" 
 "Then I don't know where he is." 
 "You lie 1 Where do you have your meetings ?" 
 We have never met but once since I've been on 
 the case. 
 
 ''Do you expect me to believe that ? Stand still I" 
 
 1 don t care whether you believe it or not. It's 
 the truth." 
 
 Meanwhile I was moving a few inches at a time 
 around the wall towards the door the men had gone 
 out by. Smce Lorina knew the dozen of them were 
 just outside the door, indeed we could hear them, 
 she cared little. My hands were still elevated of 
 course. 
 
 ''How do you communicate with him?" she asked 
 By letter or telephone.' 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "At the Rotterdam." 
 
 Her eyes glittered. "I've had enough of this 
 foohng," she said. "If you've got anything that's 
 ^'orth my while you'd better say it. My finger's 
 impatient." ^ ^ ' 
 
 ton."".<WK' ^7 7f1^' ^''- ^ '^°P''^ '^ shining 
 tone. -Why should I split on Enderby? You're 
 jioing to croak me anyway. What'U you do for me 
 
 H 
 
3i8 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "For the last time, tell me what you know, or I'll 
 hand you over to the boys 1" said Lorina. 
 
 I had reached the door now. The key was in it. 
 I had calculated every move in advance. Down 
 came my hands, I turned the key, and flung it out of 
 the open window. Lorina began to shoot. The 
 gun makes so little noise at any time that she had 
 pulled the trigger several times before she realised 
 it was not loaded. By that time I was half way 
 back to the desk. I got the drawer open and my 
 hand on my gun, as she leaped on my back. I flung 
 her ofi. 
 
 She was crying for help by this time. The men 
 outside tried the door, then flung themselves against 
 it. It could not hold long against that weight. But 
 I needed only a few seconds. I reached the window 
 over the portico. Somehow or other I slid down a 
 pillar to the steps. As soon as my feet touched 
 something solid I fired three shots in the air. This 
 was the pre-arranged signal to the men in the hotel. 
 I vaulted over the balustrade, and crouched in 
 the areaway of the adjoining house out of range of 
 any shots from the windows. Foxy undertook to 
 follow me. As he dropped to the stoop I shot him 
 in the legs. He fell in a heap. The others look- 
 ing out, thought better of imitating him. 
 
 Almost immediately the men came running out of 
 the hotel, and Lorina's gang disappeared like magic 
 from the windows. But as it had been arranged 
 that some of the detectives were to approach over 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 319 
 
 the back fences, and others by the roof, I had no 
 fear they would escape us. 
 
 The rest is soon told. When we broke in the 
 door we heard Lorina commanding the men not to 
 shoot. As the police crowded into the hall, she 
 came towards us head up, and with superb insolence 
 demanded to know the meaning of the outrage. 
 I'm afraid I indulged in rude laughter. 
 
 The police were amply provided with handcuffs. 
 We secured the prisoners two by two, searched them, 
 and carted them off in the patrol wagon that was 
 summoned by telephone. The bag was Lorina, 
 Jumbo, Foxy (not seriously wounded), Jim, Freer, 
 seven other men and the three negroes. Blondy 
 escaped in safety according to your instructions. 
 There was much mystification expressed, since the 
 house was guarded front, rear and roof, and every 
 corner of the interior was searched. Of course, I 
 made a great fuss about it. 
 
 The lieutenant of police reported the haul to 
 Inspector Lanman, who arrived bye and bye with 
 other high police officials in an automobile. You 
 ought to have been there too. I was wild at my 
 inability to get hold of you. I used all the eloquence 
 at my command appealing to Lanman not to disturb 
 anything in the house, and not to have the prisoners 
 questioned until we could get hold of you. He 
 agreed. 
 
 I am remaining here in the house to see that his 
 orders in that connection are obeyed, and also on the 
 chance that other members of the gang wiy come in. 
 
320 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 We have all of them that matter though — except the 
 grand boss. Unfortunately the noise of this cap- 
 ture will give him warning, but I have done the best 
 I could. Lorina's other establishment is well- 
 guarded, but will not be broken into until morning. 
 Come quickly when you get this. 
 
 Walter Dunsany. 
 (J. M. no longer.) 
 
31 
 
 n^HE tremendous popular excitement that fol- 
 X lowed on the capture of Lorina and her gang 
 does not help on my story, so I will pass over it 
 quickly. The haul we made in the modern cave r.t 
 Aladdm staggered the public imagination. Much 
 agamst Mr. Dunsany's advice the jewels were pub- 
 licly exhibited in police headquarters for three days 
 Mr. Dunsany and I were elevated into the position 
 of newspaper heroes. He at least deserved it, bu^ 
 1 doubt if he enjoyed his honours. I know I didn't 
 enjoy what fell to me. I couldn't help but think 
 f we had only been able to hush up this noise for 
 twenty-four hours, maybe the grand boss of the out- 
 fit might have walked into our welcoming arms 
 
 I will simply say that a thorough combing of 
 Lorina s house, and of her offices, revealed no^the 
 slightest bu of evidence leading to the man we 
 ought. She was a wonder at covering her tracks. 
 In the midst of all the popular praises I was dis- 
 couraged. There was nothing as far as I could see 
 to prevent the organiser of the gang from presently 
 organising another. Meanwhile I was in hourly ex- 
 oftbuHet ""''''"* *"" compliments in the shape 
 I had one small hope left, and that was in Blondy. 
 ifte fact of his escape had been duly published, and 
 
 3" 
 
322 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 I was praying that Lorina, deprived now of any 
 better instrument might be led to use him. I care- 
 fully stayed away from the boy, keeping in touch 
 with him by letter and phone. I would not, of 
 course, put him up to communicating with Lorina. 
 That would instantly have aroused her suspicions. 
 Any move must come from her. I append some of 
 Blondy's letters. 
 
 July loth. 
 Dear Mr, Enderby: 
 
 The house was pinched last night, as you know 
 by this time. I hau gniie to the back room on the 
 third floor by myself because I thought they were 
 going to murder a man in the office, and I was sick- 
 ened by it. I don't know If he got away or not. I 
 suppose the whole story will be in the evening pa- 
 pers. Anyhow I heard the three shots outside, which 
 vou told me would be the signal, so I beat it up the 
 ladder to the scuttle. You told me if any one else 
 tried to get out that way, I was to let them go on 
 ahead of me and hide in the hall closet, but I was all 
 alone. There was a deuce of a racket down-stairs. 
 The servants in the front room were hollering, but 
 they didn't come out. I got out on the roof and met 
 the detectives coming over from the hotel. They 
 grabbed me and threw a light in my face. Seeing 
 who it was they let me go. I was glad. I was 
 afraid maybe you had forgotten to give them in- 
 structions. I went down to the street through the 
 hotel, and chased home as quick as I could. Ac- 
 cording to your instructions I shall go on living here 
 as usual until I hear from you. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 Ralph Andrus. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 323 
 
 For nearly a week nothing of any importance hap- 
 pened. Then I received this: 
 
 Dear Mr. Enderby: 
 
 I called you up this morning to tell you about the 
 lawyer coming to the association rooms to see me. 
 This afternoon I went down to his office as you 
 told me I should. The fellow said he was one of 
 the lawyers hired by Mrs. Mansfield to defend her, 
 and she had given him my name to see if I would 
 make a witness on her side at the trial. Then he 
 put me through a cross-examination that lasted a 
 couple of hours. I was kind of flustered by it, be- 
 cause I didn't know how you would have wanted 
 me to answer his questions. But you told me if I 
 didn't know what to say to tell the truth. So I did. 
 The only time I lied was when he asked me how I 
 got out of the house that night. I said when I got 
 out on the roof I saw the officers coming, and hid 
 behind a chimney till they passed. It seems I didn't 
 know enough about the gang one way or another 
 to make any difference. The lawyer told me to 
 keep my mouth shut if I wanted to stay out of 
 trouble, gave me a couple of dollars and sent me 
 home. I hope I handled this matter right. 
 Yours respectfullv, 
 
 ' R.A. 
 
 The lawyer Plondy referred to was a junior part- 
 ner in one of the best-known firms engaged in crimi- 
 nal cases. It had been announced that this firm had 
 been retained by Lorina. Since the lawyer had ap- 
 proached the boy openly there could be no doubt 
 but that he himself was acting in good faith. I 
 
334 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 could not but feel though that there wai lomething 
 behind this viiit, because, of course, Lorina knew 
 that Blondy could tell next to nothing about her 
 affairs, and that little not to her credit. 
 
 I finally decided that she must have used the young 
 lawyer as a kind of cat's-paw to discover Blondy's 
 situation and present disposition towards herself. 
 If I was right there would no doubt be develop- 
 ments presently. I awaited the event in na little 
 anxiety. 
 
 Sure enough, three days later Blondy called me up 
 to tell me he had just received a long letter from 
 Lorina that I ought to read at once. I arranged to 
 meet him in an hour at the office of the doctor who 
 had first brought us together. He was instructed 
 to make sure that he was not followed there. 
 
 Lorina's letter enclosed a second letter. The 
 enclosure was not sealed. The friendly tone of the 
 first so different from Lorina's attitude towards him 
 out of jail, excited the boy's derision. It read: 
 
 Dear Blondy: 
 
 I am so glad you made your getaway. The 
 lawyer told me about it. You certainly were lucky. 
 He tells me you are broke. I have been worrying 
 about this. He will take this letter out to post, but 
 he doesn't know what I am going to say to you. 
 That's between ourselves. I know I can count on 
 you not to split on a pal. Bum this as soon as you 
 get the contents fixed in your mind. 
 
 I can't send you anything from here, because these 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 325 
 
 devils have itripped me They have even taken my 
 Keya, to I can t lend and get mto my safety deposit 
 box for funds. But if you wiU help me, I'll be in a 
 position to do something handsome for you. I have 
 a duphcate set of keys that nobody knows about, and 
 I want you to aet them for me. 
 . I enclose a letter to Mrs. Bradford who is the 
 janitress of the house at No — East Fifty-Ninth 
 street. I kept a room there that I could go to when 
 I wanted, to be quiet. Read the enclosed letter 
 then seal it so she will think you don't know what's 
 in It. Do everything just as the letter says. Don't 
 
 Ynf ilft^fi T«.'"',"„'^": W«t«ns to this woman. 
 You will find fiftv dollars in my pocketbook there. 
 Give her thirty for the rent and ten for herself. 
 You keep the other ten. Get a receipt for the rent. 
 
 of ll,,J"^' "%'" ^^f pocketbook. Be very careful 
 ot them. In a few days a man will call you up and 
 
 and he will say Thomas Wilkinson. Then he will 
 tell you what to do, and you must obey 
 rJm.,^^ ^' w ^l *°°^, " >' ««» *« keys and 
 \!?,Twir^ ^u^u' Y.'" ""<* y°" "^e thousand dol- 
 lars in bills, which wiU set you up in business or give 
 you a Bood time, whichever you like. 
 
 If this turns out all right there wiU be a chance 
 tor you to make other good things out of the crowd. 
 ^^_ 1 enclose the combination to the safe on a separate 
 
 Take care of yourself, 
 
 With love, 
 
 LORINA. 
 
 P.S. You mustn't think from my letter to Mrs. B. 
 that I do not trust you. That's just to stall her off. 
 
326 Thieves' Wit 
 
 The encloiure was a masterpiece. 
 
 Dear Mrs. Bradford: 
 
 I have been taken real sick, threatened with ner- 
 vous prostration they say. I have had to go to Dr. 
 
 s sanatorium at Amityville. Don't know how 
 
 long I'll be here. Now Mrs. Bradford, I'm in a fix 
 because I've lost my keys. I keep duplicates in my 
 safe, and so I'm sending my nephew to you with this 
 to get them. He has wavy, blond hair and blue 
 eyes, and nice white teeth. He slurs his rs a little 
 when he talks like a child. So he will call you Mrs. 
 B'adfo'd. These details will identify him to you. 
 
 Please let him into my room with your pass-key, 
 and remain with him while he is there. Not but 
 what he is a good boy, but boys will be boys you 
 know. Don't let him see this. I have given him the 
 combination of my safe. Inside is an old handbag 
 with fifty dollars in it and a bunch of keys. He will 
 give you thirty dollars of it for the rent, and ten 
 for your trouble. Nothing else in the safe must 
 be touched. Thanking you for your trouble, 
 Yours sincerely, 
 (Mrs.) Ei-izABETH Watkins. 
 
 P.S. I hope your rheumatism is better. 
 
 I made copies of the letters and the safe combina- 
 tion, and told Blondy to go ahead and do exactly 
 as he had been told. I suspected from Lorina's 
 care that the little safe would make interesting dis- 
 closures. However, I could get into it some other 
 time. I was inclined to believe her story about the 
 safety deposit box. Like all first-class liars she 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 327 
 
 wove truth into her lies whti she could. I was 
 hoping, while scarcely daring to hope, that in a mat- 
 ter of such vital importance she would not dare 
 trust any one short of the "boss" himself. If he 
 would only come after the keys ! 
 Next day I got the following letter from Blondy. 
 
 Dear Mr. Enderby: 
 
 n ^jr'*^/^"^**'"8 J"'* *« '•»« Je"«r sa'd- Mrs. 
 Bradford was a suspicious kind of woman. She 
 lived in a cellar kind of place below the street level. 
 i>txe asked me about a thousand questions before she 
 would let me in. But I wasn't afraid of her Sus- 
 picious people are generally easy to fool.* 
 
 • V "T.E^st Fifty-Ninth street is an old build- 
 ing that IS let out in stores and studios. Mrs. Mans- 
 held s room was second floor rear. I couldn't look 
 around much the old woman watched me so close. 
 It was just an ordinary furnished room, nothing 
 rich like the Lexington avenue house. There was 
 an alcove with a bed in it. The only thing funny 
 was the number of trunks standing around. I count- 
 ed seven of them. They had covers and cushions 
 on them. 
 
 The safe was a little one. I opened it all right 
 There was nothing in the main part but a lot of 
 papers and the little satchel. There was an inside 
 locked compartment. After I locked the safe again 
 the old woman made me destroy the combination 
 before her eyes. I paid her the money, put the keys 
 in my pocket, and she hustled me out. That's all. 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 R. A. 
 
 * Pretty good observation for eighteen years old I 
 
 B. E. 
 
328 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 After this followed a period of strained anxiety 
 for me. I could not stay near Blondy, of course, 
 and I was afraid the man we hoped to get might 
 circumvent him in some way. Maybe instead of 
 telephoning him he would call on him in person. 
 Blondy was instructed of course in that event to 
 hang on to him like grim death, but how could I 
 expect a boy of his age to get the better of an astute 
 crook? 
 
 However, this fear proved groundless. On 
 Thursday morning about eleven Blondy called me 
 up. I instantly knew by his breathlessness that 
 something had happened. 
 
 "Guy just called up," said Blondy. "Said: 'Have 
 you got the keys?' I came back: 'Who are you?' 
 'Thomas Wilkinson.' 'O.K.,* said I. Then he 
 started in quick to give me my instructions." 
 
 "I must take the twelve noon train from the Long 
 Island Termbal for Greenwood City. I get off at 
 Greenwood City and walk one block North to Suf- 
 folk avenue which is the main street of the village. I 
 turn to the right on Suffolk which is to say turn 
 East or away from New York, and keep straight 
 on right out of town to the wide, empty stretch of 
 land that they call Ringstead plains. I have to walk 
 about two miles out this road. Half a mile beyond 
 the last house there's a locust tree beside the road. 
 He said I couldn't miss it because it was the only 
 tree standing by itself as far as you could see. 
 Motor cars pass up and down the road frequently. 
 But I must not accept a ride if it's offered to me. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 329 
 
 I must sit down under this tree as if I was tired and 
 stay there ten minutes or so, until anybody who may 
 have seen me stop there will iiave passed out of sight. 
 Then I am to leave the keys on the ground behind 
 the tree and walk back to Greenwood City, and take 
 the first train for New York. If he gets the keys 
 all right, he said he would send the money b a pack- 
 age by mail to-morrow." 
 
 I made notes of all this while the boy was speak- 
 ing. 
 
 "Is it all right?" he asked anxiously. 
 
 "Finer I said. 
 
 "But the twelve o'clock train I It's quarter past 
 eleven now. I wanted to put him off to give you 
 more time, but you said do exactly what he said." 
 
 "Quite right," I said. "Run along and get your 
 train. Follow your instructions exactly and leave 
 the rest to me." 
 
32 
 
 TIME was very precious, but I allowed myself a 
 few minutes for hard, concentrated thought. 
 I believed that Blondy would be under surveillance 
 from the time he left the Association rooms until he 
 reached th? appointed spot. Evidently my man was 
 aware of v'le advantage to himself of rushing the 
 thing through, and it was likely the keys would be 
 picked up within a few minutes of the time they 
 were dropped. At any rate he would surely come 
 after them by daylight, for night would make an 
 ambush easy. Therefore it was up to me to make my 
 preparations before the boy got there. Not very 
 easy when he was already about to start. 
 
 My man had had several days in which to find the 
 spot near New York best suited to his purpose. 
 From Blondy's description the place he had chosen 
 must be bare of cover in miles. "Thomas Wilkin- 
 son" would come in an automobile, naturally, and if 
 anything in the vicinity aroused his suspicions he 
 would not stop. I could not hope to pick him out 
 among all who passed. It was a tough problem. 
 I called up Lanman the chief of the detective 
 bureau. Nowadays I commanded the respect of 
 these people. 
 
 "Look here," I said, "we have a chance to take the 
 330 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 331 
 
 boss of the thief trust this afternoon, if we strike 
 like lightning." 
 "Shootl"saidhe. 
 
 "First, send me quick a high- owered automobile 
 with a nervy chauffeur and two operatives. Have 
 them pick me up at the Southwest comer of Second 
 avenue and 59th street, Queensboro bridge plaza." 
 
 "Right 1" 
 
 "Next get together five other good cars without 
 any distinctive marks. Come yourself in one of 
 them, and bring a dozen good men. Meet me — let 
 me see — What town is there near Greenwood City, 
 Long Island, but not on the same road?" 
 
 "Ringstead, two miles South." 
 
 "Know a hotel there?" 
 
 "Mitchell's a road house." 
 
 "Good. Have your five cars proceed to 
 Mitchell's by different roads as quickly as possible. I 
 may not be able to come there to you, but wait there 
 for further instructions by telephone." 
 
 "O.K.," he said. "We'll be on the way in ten 
 minutes." 
 
 "One thing more. Bring a good pair of field 
 glasses." 
 
 I took my own binoculars and a gun. On the way 
 to the meeting-place I bought a road map of Long 
 Island. The car was already waiting for me at the 
 rpot named. Lanman wa^ a man after my own 
 heart. 
 
 We made quick time. I was provided with a 
 
332 
 
 Thieves' Wft 
 
 police badge in case any of the local constables 
 should object to our rate of travel. On the road 
 I studied my map and ^ot the lay of the land in my 
 head. 
 
 It was twelve-five when we reached Greenwood 
 City, or fifty minutes before the train was due. As 
 we passed the railway station I saw a car already 
 waiting there, and I wondered idly if that would have 
 anything to do with my case. It was a very dis- 
 tinguished-looking car of a foreign make with a 
 dark green body of, the style the French call coupe 
 de ville. It seemed a little odd that any one should 
 choose to ride in a closed car in such hot weather. 
 An irreproachable chauffeur and footman waited 
 near. 
 
 We turned into Suffolk street, and hastened on 
 out of town out to Ringstead plains. It was all 
 just as Blondy had given it to me over the phone. 
 There was the last house at the edge of the plain, 
 and half a mile ahead stood the lonely locust tree 
 beside the road. The house looked as if it mig^t 
 belong to a small farmer or market gardener. 
 There was a unall bam behind it. Ahead of us 
 there was no other habitation visible as far as we 
 could see. 
 
 We kept on. It is a well-known motor road, and 
 we passed cars from time to time. Earlier and later 
 it would be quite crowded I expect, but this was one 
 of the quietest hours. About three-quarters of a 
 mile beyond the locust tree there was a wood that I 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 333 
 
 had my eye on. It was not of very great extent, but 
 showed a dense growth of young trees. 
 
 Reaching it, I found to my great satisfaction that 
 there was a rough wagon track leading away among 
 the trees. I had the chauffeur turn in there. There 
 was no other car in view at the moment. Within a 
 few yards the wagon track curved a little, and we 
 were lost to view from the road. I got out and 
 made my way to the edge of the trees. From this 
 point I found I could overlook the locu-' tree with 
 the aid of my binoculars. 
 
 This was all I wanted. I gave the order to re- 
 turn to Greenwood City. A little further in the 
 wood there was a clearing sufficient to enable us to 
 turn. One gets over the ground quickly in a car, 
 and when we got back to Greenwood we still had 
 twenty-fivc minutes before the train was due. This 
 place, by the way, is not a city at all, but merely a 
 village embowered in trees. The handsome green 
 car was still waiting at the station. I went to a 
 hotel to telephone. 
 
 To my joy I got Lanman on the phone without 
 delay. 
 
 "I am here at Mitchell's with three of the tars," 
 he said. "The other two were sent by a Rightly 
 longer route. They will be here directly." / 
 
 "Take three cars and proceed by the shortest 
 route to Greenwood City," I said. "Make haste 
 because I expect my man on the train from town in 
 twenty minutes, and you must get through the vil- 
 lage before he arrives," 
 
334 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "We can be there !n five," said Lanman. 
 
 "Turn to the right on Suffolk street and proceed 
 out on the plains. A mite snd a half out of town 
 you come to the last house. It is a grey house with- 
 out any trees around it ; there is a small bam behind 
 it. Stop there and put up your cars in the barn in 
 such a way that you can run them out quickly. I 
 don't know the people in the house. I have no rea- 
 son to believe that they have any connection with 
 the man we want, but you'll have to use your judg- 
 ment." 
 
 I went on to explain to him just what Blondy was 
 going to do, and how I expected our man to turn 
 up shortly afterwards. 
 
 "The East windows of the house overlook the lo- 
 cust tree," I went on. "Station yourself at one of 
 them with your glasses, and you will be able to see 
 whatever happens at the tree." 
 
 "I get you," he said. "What about the other two 
 cars? One of them is just turning into the yard 
 now." 
 
 "Let them leave Ringstead by Merton street," I 
 said, consulting my map, "and proceed East to the 
 Joppa Pike; thence North to the Suffolk pike and 
 turn back towards Greenwood City. About two 
 miles and a half before reaching the village, more 
 than a mile beyond the house where you will be, 
 there is a small wood on the left hand side of the 
 road. There is a wagon track leading into it. 
 They are to turn in there and diey will find me a 
 little way inside." 
 
Thieves' Wit 335 
 
 . "AH right," Slid Lanmin. "The Ust car i. com- 
 ing now. 
 
 "Listen," I said. "Our man without doubt will 
 
 into my hands. But if he should turn around and 
 go back It's up to you." 
 
 "I understand," said Lanman grimly. 
 
 DO Jo !^'""!f ' ^'TJ ''" ''"'' "^ ""y observation 
 post at the edge of the wood. I had not been there 
 long when through my glasses I saw a car turn 
 into the farmer's place. A second and a third car 
 foUowed at short mtervals. In a quarter of an hour 
 
 Ste.5;rj?l'" "' j°'"?? T' ""^ • ^'^ '»i"«« 
 addition to the chauffeur. 
 
 We turned the cars around and stationed them 
 m line where, though they were invisible from the 
 h^road they could run out upon it in a few sec 
 onds. The other side of the highway was fenced. 
 Having completed our arrangements, there was noth- 
 ing to do for a while, and I told the men to take it 
 
 C3SV. 
 
 . ^""''^^"K *o my calculations Blondy would appear 
 n view about one-thirty. It was a long walk from 
 he station and a hot day. Exactly on schedulH 
 
 tsdf through the glasses into the figure of a soli. 
 
 It was Blondy. So far so good. 
 
^6 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 I was hfiag on the ground at the edge of the lit- 
 tle wood with the glaiies steadied on a fallen trunk. 
 The whole flat plain wa> spread before me. The 
 cart were about thirty yards behind me, each chauf- 
 feur at hit wheel. Between me and them I had 
 the four men stationed at intervals so I could pass a 
 whispered order back. 
 
 While Blondy was covering the spivce between the 
 house and the locust tree a green car hove in view be- 
 hind him, which I presently recognised from the ir- 
 reproachable chauffeur and footman as the coupe de 
 mile. It overtook the walking figure, and came on 
 up the road, past the wood, and past us. I won- 
 dered if our man was now inside. 
 
 Blondy reached the tree at last. I suspected that 
 he welcomed the shade. It seemed perfectly nat- 
 ural for him to sit down under it. He remained 
 there ten minutes. Several cars passed to and fro 
 and one of them stopped. This puzzled me for a 
 moment, but I supposed that it was merely some 
 good Samaritan who offered the perspiring boy a 
 lift. While Blondy was sitting there the green car 
 went back. I was pretty sure now that it contained 
 our quarry. 
 
 At last Blondy got up and started back. These 
 periods of waiting try a man's nerves. Mine were 
 pretty well on edge by this time. It seemed to take 
 an age for the boy to retrace his steps over the vis- 
 ible part of the road. About two hundred yards 
 beyond the farmhouse there was a bend in it which 
 concealed the rest from my view. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 337 
 
 A minute or two after Blondy ditappeared from 
 my tight, the big green car again hove into view- 
 around the bend. My heart hit up a few extra 
 beats. 
 
 "Get ready," I sent word along the line. 
 To my great disappointment it did not stop at the 
 tree. It came on, and passed the wood again with 
 the loud purr of new tires. However, I explained 
 it to myself by the fact that there was another car 
 in view at the moment. I set myself to wait in the 
 expectation of his return. 
 
 In live minutes return he did, but this time there 
 was a car close behind, and once more he passed 
 out of sight without stopping. I hoped that Lan- 
 man had marked the passing and repassing of the 
 fashionable car. 
 
 It was now past two o'clock, and the hottest part 
 of the day was coming on. A haze of heat undu- 
 lated shimmeringly over the pi; " Our tempers 
 suffered. There in the little wooo we were in the 
 shade, it is true, but there was not a breath of air 
 stirring, and the mosquitoes were busily plying their 
 trade. The men breathed hard, and wiped the'r 
 faces. At first they had taken their coats off, but 
 finding the insects co- ;d bite through their shirt- 
 sleeves they had put them on again. I had thrown 
 off my hot wig. A disguise was unnecessary now. 
 Once more the green car turned into sight beyond 
 the farmhouse. This time the road was empty and 
 my heart beat hopefully. Sure enough it stopped 
 opposite the locust tree. 
 
338 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 "Start your enginei," I whispered along the line. 
 
 A man alighted from the coupe and walked to the 
 tree. A Panama hat shaded his face and I could 
 not get a good look at it. He walked around the 
 tree and seemed to be gazing up in its branches, as 
 well as looking down at the roots. I could not un- 
 derstand this evolution, still I was pretty sure that 
 I saw him stoop and pick something up. 
 
 He returned to his car, and it started forward. 
 
 "Go ahead," I said to my men. 
 
 They knew what they had to do. I lingered a 
 moment to see whether he was going to turn around 
 or come on. He came straight, faster than he had 
 been travelling. I ran after my cars. 
 
 According to instructions they moved out in line 
 across the road, completely blocking it. I timed it 
 as closely as I could, but unfortunately the road was 
 perfectly straight. With the appearance of the first 
 car out of the wood, the green car took the alarm. 
 We heard the creech of the brakes. They came to 
 a stop in a cloud of dust. Those town cars can- 
 turn almost in their own length. Around they went 
 and back with the exhaust opened wide. 
 
 We jumped aboard our cars and as soon as we 
 could disentangle ourselves took after them. They 
 were half a mile away when we got straightened out. 
 Now if only Lanman did not fail me I 
 
 To my joy, away ahead I saw the police cars 
 slowly move one, two, three across the road. We 
 had him trapped 1 Once more the green car stopped 
 in a cloud of dust. 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 339 
 
 Laiunan and I approaching from opposite direc- 
 tiom, reached it limultaneously. We had our suns 
 out. 
 
 "What'i the matter with you?" the angry, fright- 
 ened chauffeur cried. 
 
 We paid small attention to him. I and my gun 
 looked into the coupe together. Lanman ran 
 around to the other door. In the comer of the seat 
 I saw, exquisite, immaculate— Alfred Mount I 
 
 "Youl" he gasped. 
 
 "Youl" I cried. 
 
 Of the two I was the more surprised. For the 
 moment I was incapable of moving. 
 
 He did not speak again, nor attempt to get up. 
 Through the front window of the coupe he saw the 
 small crowd of detectives gathering. The light died 
 out of those bright, black eyes. He clapped the 
 back of his hand to his mouth as you have seen 
 women do in moments of despair. The hand 
 dropped nervelessly in his lap. Before my eyes his 
 face turned livid. His body stiffened out in a hor- 
 rible brief spasm, and he fell over sideways on the 
 scat — deadl 
 
 My eyes and Lanman's were glued alike in hor- 
 ror to the corpse. The left hand, a hand too ele- 
 gant for a man's had now dropped to the floor. 
 A glance at it explained the tragedy. An immense 
 flat emerald on the ring finger was sprung back 
 revealing a tiny cup beneath. The chief and I 
 looked at each other in understanding. 
 
340 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 We were recalled to practical matters by the im- 
 perious tooting of a horn up the road. One oncom- 
 ing chauffeur naturally objected to the barricade of 
 automobiles. Lanman and I alike dreaded the ir- 
 ruption of foolish curiosity-seekers. At a word 
 from me he hustled the detectives into their re- 
 spective cars, and got them straightened out They 
 were all ordered back to headquarters. All this 
 happened within a few moments. I don't believe 
 any of the detectives realised that the man was dead. 
 
 None of the engines had stopped and we quickly 
 had the road dear. Lanman and I thought so much 
 alike in this crisis that it was hardly necessary to 
 talk. We got into the coupe with its ghastly bur- 
 den and without touching it, sat down on the two 
 little seats facing it. A glance at th^ police badge 
 was sufficient for the chauffeur. 
 
 "Your master has had a stroke," I said to him. 
 "Take us to his home as soon as possible." 
 
 Lanman nodded his approval. 
 
 When we got Mount's body to his rooms, we sent 
 for his doctor, one of the most famous practition- 
 ers in town, also for the commissioner of police and 
 for Mr. Walter Dunsany. 
 
 When the five of us were gati.cied together, we 
 consulted, and finally put it up to the commissioner 
 to dedde what ought to be done in the interests of 
 good dtizenship. After listening to me, to Mr. 
 Dunsany and to the doctor, all of ^om felt the 
 same,. though for different reasons, he voted with 
 us. We agreed that Mount had taken the best way 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 341 
 
 out under the circumstances. None of us wanted to 
 drag his dead body through the mire. As niu h of 
 the loot as could be recovered was already recovered. 
 None of us wanted to see any more scandal aired in 
 the newspapers. Therefore it was given out that 
 Mr. Mount had committed suicide while motoring 
 in the country, and no cause for the act was assigned. 
 Of course I told Roland and Irma the truth, so 
 that no shadow might dim their future happiness. 
 
33 
 
 LITTLE more remains to be told. For weeks 
 afterwards the case was threshed out in the 
 newspapers, but nothing was brought out that you 
 do not already know. No suspicion attached to 
 Mount's chauffeur and footman. They had met 
 him at the Greenwood City station according to or- 
 ders. He had exclaimed at the beauty of Ringstead 
 plains, and they thought that was why he had him- 
 self carried back and forth so many times. On the 
 last journey he had remarked the locust tree, speak- 
 ing of the rarity of the species, and had ordered them 
 to stop so that he could examine it. They knew 
 nothing about trees, of course. They had not seen 
 him pick up the keys. 
 
 The news of Mount's death took all the iight out 
 of Lorina. Whatever human feeling there was in 
 that woman was all for him. It appeared that her 
 devotion to him was so abject, that she was even 
 willing to help him in his plotting to secure Irma 
 for his wife. 
 
 The thieves were sent up for terms more or less 
 corresponding to the degrees of their guilt. Lorina 
 and Foxy are still there. Jumbo is out now, and 
 professes to have reformed. He seems to bear me 
 no malice, and occasionally braces me for a small 
 loan. One of the gang, Bella Bleecker, escaped for 
 
 34a 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 343 
 
 lack of evidence. I knew that she was one of Lo- 
 rina's creatures, whom Mount had placed near Irma 
 as a spy, but there was nothing to connect her with 
 the thefts. 
 
 There was one mysterious feature of the case 
 which the trial did not clear up, i. e., the source of 
 Roland's handsome legacy. I had my susplcijns 
 but no proof. Mount's doctor was one of his ex- 
 ecutors and I was permitted to examine the dead 
 man's papers. I found that on the last day of 
 March previous he had drawn $40,000 in cash. 
 
 This was pretty conclusive, but there was a link 
 of evidence still missing. Continuing a search of 
 Mount's effects I found a receipted bill from an ob- 
 scure lawyer for legal services rendered about this 
 time. I looked the man up. 
 
 He proved to be a seedy, servile little creature, 
 one of the desperate hangers-on of the outer fringe 
 of a respectable profession. Mount being dead and 
 no longer a possible employer it was easy to make 
 the lawyer talk. 
 
 Whether or not he knew what he was doing, I 
 can't say. He claimed that Mount had told him 
 he wished to do something for a worthy young fel- 
 low who was too proud to accept anything from him 
 direct. He then laid out the scheme of the myste- 
 rious, unhappy lady who was supposed to have died 
 leaving Roland Quarles her fortune. Mount, the 
 lawyer said, supplied the ingenious letter that was 
 sent to Roland. The lawyer carried the money to 
 the trust company. 
 
344 
 
 Thieves' Wit 
 
 This infonnation dissipated the last bit of mji- 
 tery. The more I thought over it the more I mar- 
 velled at Mount. Certainly there was something 
 magnificent in his villainies. Fancy ^ving your rival 
 forty thousand dollars in order to ruin him I It 
 was clear now why the order had come down from 
 above to Jumbo to sell Irma's pearls to Roland at 
 a reduced price. I wonder if ever a more devilish 
 plot was hatched by one man to ruin another. And 
 how nearly it had succeeded. Mount had shown 
 the devil's own cunning in playing on the weak spots 
 in Irma and in Roland. 
 
 The period of the trial was a hateful time for all 
 of us. Our own happiness was not to be thought 
 of until that ordeal was over. A blessed peace de- 
 scended on us when the last verdict was rendered. 
 
 The blisful event occurred in October. Irma and 
 Roland insisted that Sadie and I must be married at 
 the same time they were. 
 
 The double event took place in the Little Church 
 Around the Comer. Only Mr. Dunsany, Blondy, 
 the Doctor and a few others were present We all 
 felt as if we had had enough publicity to last us the 
 rest of our lives. 
 
 Roland insisted on returning the balance of his 
 legacy to the Mount estxte. I thought he had the 
 beat reason in the world for hanging on to it, but 
 that was Roland. He actually wanted Irma to turn 
 over her pearls to the executors, less what she had 
 paid for ^em, but we all fougitt him on diat. She 
 had purchased them fairly, I insisted, and if Mount 
 
Thieves' Wit 
 
 345 
 
 had named too low a price that was his affair. He 
 gave in when I pointed out that was the cause of 
 her pving up a lucrative profession, and he had no 
 right to deprive her of her property also. 
 
 The famous blue pearls were sold. Part of the 
 proceeds was devoted to the purchase of a fine old 
 manor and a farm on the Eastern shore of Mary- 
 land. Roland and Irma have forsaken the foot- 
 lights forever. Farming is their true vocation, they 
 say, and nothing could ever tempt them back. 
 
 Mr. Dunsany has ever remained my firm friend. 
 He insisted on rewarding me very handsomely for 
 my work on the great case, though I considered the 
 reputation it brought me enough. The honour 
 seems likely to last me as long as I am able to work. 
 With the money Sadie and I decided to buy a smaller 
 place adjoining our friends. Sadie has turned 
 farmer, too. 
 
 I can't be there as much as I would like. After 
 the dust and danger of my work it is like Heaven to 
 run down home. At first Sadie objected strenu- 
 ously to this arrangement. She said she expected 
 to continue to help me with my work. That was 
 what she married me for, she said. But the one 
 fright was enough for me. I don't hear so much 
 about her desire now. Sadie has other things to oc- 
 cupy her mind. Yes, three of them. 
 
 THE END