Evening Star Newspaper, August 7, 1921, Page 54

P Malcol;n Sage, Detective The olng p of Lléhedale Another Interesting Adventure of T 1 GRE trouble, Tommy,” re- niarked Gladys Norman one morning as James Thomp- son entered her room. He looked across at her quickly, a keen flash of interest In his somnolent brown eyes. “Somebody's pinched Lady Glane- dale’s jewels. Just had a telephone message. What a happy place the world would be without drink and crime— “And women,” added Thompson, alert of eye and prepared to dodge anything that was coming. Tommy, you're a beast. Get thee hence! and, bending over her type- writer, she became absorbed in rat- tling words onto paper. Thompson had just reached the third line of “I'm Sorry I Made You Cry.” when his quick eye detected Jalcolm Sage as he entered the outer ©™M¥ith a brief “Good morning.” colm Sage passed into his room, and a minute later Gladys Norman was reading from her notebook to the effect that early that morning a burglar had entered Lady Glanedale's bedroom at the Home Park. Hyston, the country house of Sir Roger Glanedale, and, under threat from a pistol, had demanded her jewel case, {rhich she had accordingly handed to im. As the jewels were insured with the Twentieth™Century Insurance Cor- poration, Ltd., Malcolm Sage had been fmmediately communicated with, that he might take up the inquiry with a view to tracing the missing prop- erty. One of Malcolm Sage's first cases had been undertaken for this com pany in connection with a burglar: He had been successful in restoring the whole of the missing property. In consequence he had been person- ally thanked by the chairman at a fully attended board meeting, and at the same time presented with a gold- mounted walking stick, which, as he remarked to Sir John Dene. no one but a drum major in full dress would dare to carry. Having listened carefully as she read her notes, Malcolm Sage dis- missed Gladys Norman with a no: and for some minutes sat at _his table drawing the inevitable diagrams upon his blotting pad. Presently he rose and walked over to a row of shelves fllled with red-backed vol- umes, lettered 6m the back “Rec- ords,” with a number and a date. * ko ok % VERY crime or curious occurrence that came under Malcolm Sage's notice was duly chronicled in the pages of these volumes, which con- tained miles of press-cuttings. They were rendered additionally valuable by an elaborate system of cross-refer- ence indexing. After referring to an_index volume Maicolm Sage selected one of the folios, and returned with it to his table. Rapidly turning over the pages he came to a newspaper cutting, which was dated some five weeks previously. This he read and pon- dered over for some time. It ran: DARING BURGLARY. Country Mansion Entered Burglar's Sang Froid. In the early hours of yesterday morning a daring burglary was com- mitted at the dower house, near Hyston, the residence of Mr. Gerald Comminge. who was away from home at the time, by which the burglar was able to make & rich haul ot Jew- els. 2 Inthe early hours of the morning Mrs. Comminge was awakened by the Dresence of a man in her room. As she sat up in bed the man turned an electric torch upon her and, pointing a revolver in her direction, warned her that if she cried out he would shoot. He then demanded to know where she kept her jewels, and Mrs. Comminge, too terrified to do auy thing else. indicated a drawer in v hich lay her jewel case. Taking the jewel case and putting 1f under his arm, the man_threatened that if she'moved or called out within 2 quarter of an_hour he would return and shoot her. He then got out of the window on to a small balcony and dis- appeared. Tt seems that he gained admittance by clambering up some ivy and thus on to the narrow balcony that runs the length of one side of the house. Immediately on the man’s disappear- ance Mrs. Comminge fainted. On coming to she gave the alarm, and the police were immediately teiephoned for. Although the man's footprints are easily discernible upon the mold 2nd the soft turf. the culprit seems to have left no other clue. "The description that Mrs. Comminge is able to give of her assailant is rather lacking in fetail, owing to the shock she experienced at his sudden appearance. It would appear that the man is of medium height and slight of Luild. He wore a cap and a black handkerchief tied across his face just benezth his eyes. which entirely masked his features. With this very inadequate description of the ruffian the police have perforce to set to work upon the very difficult task of tracing him. For some time Malcolm Sage pon- dered over the cutting, then rising he Teplaced the volume and rang for Thompson. i An hour later Tims was carrying him along in the direction of Sir Roger Glanedale'’s house at a good thirty-five miles an hour. The Home Park was an Elizabethan mansion that had been acquired by Sir Roger Glandale out of enormous profits made upon the sale of mar- garine. As Tims brought the car up before the front entrance with an im- essive sweep, the hall door was Theown open by the butler, who habit- ually strove by an excessive dignity of demeanor to remove from his men- tal palate the humiliating flavor of margarine. .\I:lwlm Sage's card cdnsiderably mitigated the impression made upon Mr. Hibbs' mind by the swing with Mal- | BY HERBERT JENKINS help. he would not do me any harm. “Realizing that | was helpless, 1 got out of bed. put on a wrapper, opened a small safe I have set in the wall, and handed him one of the two Jewel cases I possess. “He then made me promise that I would not ring or call out for a quar- ter of an hour, and he disappeared out of the window. “At the end of a quarter of an hour I summoned help, and my stepson, the butler and several other came to my room. We telephoned for the police, and after breakfast we telephoned to the insurance company.” For fully a minute there was si- lence. Malcolm Sage decided that Lady Glanedale certainly possessed the faculty of telling a story with all the events in their proper sequence. He found himself with very few ques- ticns to put to her. “Can you describe the man?" he asked as he mechanically turned over the leaves of a book on a table beside him. ot very well,” she replied. *I saw little more than a Silhouette against the window. He was of me- dium height, slight of build and 1 should say young.” “That seems to agree with the de- scription of the man who robbed Mrs. Comminge,” he said as if to himself. “That is what the inspector said, remarked Lady Glanedale. “His voice?” “Was rather husky, as if he were trying to disguise it.” z “Was it the voice of a man of re- finement or otherwise?” 3 “I should describe it as middle- class, was the snobbish, response. ..., “The mask? “It lookeq like a sil e tied across his nose. It was'dark'in tone; but I could get only a dim im- pression. ** Malcolm Sage inclined prehendingly. “You know Mrs. Comming Intimately. % “You mentioned two j he said. “The one stolen contained those I mostly wear,” replied Lady Glanedal “in the other I keep some very valua- ble family jewels.” “What was the of stolen?" ¥ i “About '£8.000," she replied. “possi- bly more. I should explain, perhaps, that Sir Roger was staying in town last night, and so far 1 have not been able to get him on the telephone. He was to have stayed at the Ritzton; but apparently he found them full and went elsewhere.” “You have no suspicion as to who that entered your room?" “None whatever,” said Lady Glane- dale. “The police have already , been here?” he inquired, as he examined with great intentness a rose he had taken from a bowl beside him. “Yes, they came shortly after we telephoned. They gave instructions that nothing was to be touched in the room, and no one was to go mear the ground beneath the windows.” Malcolm Sage nodded approvingly. and returned the rose to the bowl “And now.” he said. “I think I should like to see the room. way, I take fe locked S Always,” said Lady Glanedale. «Where do you keecp the key “In the bottom right-hand drawer his head com- " jewel cases,” value those it servants By the ! t that you Keep YOUTipoyuse was a flower-bed some two 1K nandicerchief |’ |n ! window | I pF same position in which you were when you awakened.” r a moment Lady Glariedale's eyebrows indicated . surprise. She used her eyebrows more than any other feature for the purpose of ex- pressing emotion. Without comment, however, she lay down upon the bed on her right side, closed her eyes, then a moment later sat up and gazed in the direction where Glane- dale stood looking awkward and self- conscious. “Perhaps you will repeat every movement you made,” said Malcolm Sage. “Try to open the safe door ex- actly as you did then, and leave it at the same angle. Every detail is im- portant.” Lady Glanedale rose, picked up a wrapper that was lying over a chair- back, put it on and, walking over to the safe, turned the key that was in the lock, and opened it.” Then. stand- ‘TO TELEPHONE A ing between the safe and Glanedale. she took out a jewel-case and closed the door. Finally she walked over to where her stepson stood, and banded him the jewel-case. “Thank vou,” said Malcolm Sage. “I wanted to see whether or not the man had the opportunity of seeing into the safe.” “I took care to stand in front of 1t," she said. So I observed. You allowed the quarter of an hour to elapse before you raised the alarm?" “Certainly, I had promise the response. “But a promise extorted by threats of violence is not binding."” he sug- gested as he pulled meditatively at his right ear. “It is with me,” was the retort. ; He inclined his head slightly. “I notice that the ground beneath the windows has been roped off. “The inspector thought it had bet- ter be done, as there were foot- prints. “I will not trouble you further for the present, Lady Glanedale,” said Malcolm Sage, moving toward the door. “I should like to spend a little time in the grounds. Later I may require to interrogate the servants.” Young Glanedale opened the door and his stepmother, followed by Mal- colm Sage, passed out. They de- scended the stairs together. “Please don't trouble to come out,” said Malcolm Sage. “I shall prob- ably be some little time,” this as Lady Glanedale moved toward the hall door. “By the way,” he said, as she turned toward the morning- room, where she had received him, “did you happen to notice if the man was wearing boots, or was he in stockinged feet?” “I think he wore boots,” she said, after a momentary pause. “Thank vou,” and Malcolm Sage turned toward the door, which was held open by the butler. g Passing down the steps and to the left, he walked round to the side of the house, where the space imme- diately beneath Lady Glanedale's windows had been roped of. Stepping over the protecting rope, e examined the ground beneath the through which the burglar ad entered. Running along the side of h the feet six. inches wide, and on its sur- face was clearly indicated a series of footprints. On the side of the painted water pipe were scratches of my dresding table, under a pile of [ych as might have been made by handkerchiefs.” “As soon as you can I to see a list of the jewel. colm Sage. _ o Wy maid is copying it out now. she replied, and led the way up the Staircase, along a heavily carpeted corridor, at the end of which she threw open 2 door giving access to a bedroom. “That is the window he must ha: entered by; he went out that way,” ed Lady Glanedale. ou spoke of a stepson,” said Mal- Sage. “He is & man, 1 pre- hould like said Mal- colm sume?” “He is twenty-three.” “an vou send for him?” ertainly, if you wish it" She rang the bell, and a moment later requested the maid who answered it | some one climbing up to the window above. % Drawing a spring metal rule from his pocket, he proceeded to take a series of measurements, which he jotted down in a notebook. He next examined the water pipe up which the man presumably had climbed, and presently passed on to a similar pipe farther to the left. Every inch of ground he subjected to a careful and elaborate examina- tion, lifting the lower branches of some evergreens and gazing beneath them. Finally, closing his notebook with a snap, Malcolm Sage seated him- self upon a garden seat and, care- fully tilling and lighting his pipe, he became absorbed in the polished pinkiness of the third finger nail of Which Tims had brought the car uD)to ask Mr. Robert to come imme-!pis jeft hana. to the door. - Malcolm Sage was shown into the morning room and told that her lady- ship would see him in a few minutes. H~ was busy in the contemplation of the garden when the door opened and Lady Glanedale entered. He bowed. and then, as Lady Glane- dale seated herself at a small table, he took the nearest chair. She was a little woman, some eight inches too short for the air she as- sumed, fair, good-looking; but with a hard, set mouth. one had ever per- mitted her to forget that she had married margarine. “You have called about the bur- glary?” 'she inquired, in a tone she might have adopted to a plumber who had come to see to @ leak in the bath. « “Perhaps you will give me the de- indly be as brief “incipient bolshe- as possible.” A Vism" manifesting itself in his man- ner. * & % X LADY GLANEDALE elevated her eyebrows: but, as Malcolm Sage’s eyes were not upon her, she procecded to tell her story. “About 1 o'clock this morning I was awakened to find 2 man in my bed- room,” she began. “He was standing between the bedstead and the farther window. his face masked. He had a pistol in one hand, which he pointed toward me, and an electric torch in the other. I sat up in bed and stared at him. ‘If you call out I shall kill you,” he said. I asked him what he wanted. He replied that if I gave him my jewel case and did not call for l i i | diately. you sleep with lowered bl inquired Malcolm Sage. he one nearest my bed I always keep down; the other I pull up after putting out my light.” “Did you awaken suddenly, or gradually—as if it were your usual time to awaken?” “It was gradual,” said Lady Glane- dale, after a pause for thought. *I remember having the feeling that some one was looking at me.” “Was the light from the torch shining on your face?” “No, it was turned to the opposite side of the room, on my right as I lay in bed.” At that moment a young man in t eds entered. fou want me, mater?” he inquired; then, looking across at Malcolm Sage with a slightly troubled shadow in his _eyes, he bowed. “This is Mr. Sage from the insur- ance company.” said Lady Glanedale coldly. “He wishes to see you.” Again there was-the slightly trou- bled look in young Glanedale’s eyes. “Perhaps you will place Mr. Glane- dale in the exact position in which the man was standing when you first saw him,” said Malcolm Sage. L, E xR Wl‘l'HOU'P a word Lady Glanedale ‘walked over to the spot she had indicated, young Glanedale following. When she had got him into the de- sired position she turned interrogat- ingly to Malcolm Sage. “Now,” he said, “will you be so kind as_to lie on your bed in the “Do A quarter of an hour later he was ined by young Glanedale. ‘Found anything?” he inquired. ‘There are some footprints,” sald Malcolm Sage, looking at him keenly. ol “By the way, what did you do Whenl you heard of the robbery?” “I went to the mater's room:” “And atter that?” “I rushed downstairs and started looking about.” “You didn’t happen to come any- where near this spot, or walk upon the mold there?’ He nodded at the place he had just been examining. “No; as a matter of fact, I avoided ;L The mater warned me to be care- L Malcolm Sage nodded his head. “Did_the butler, join you in your search?” he inquired. “About five minutes later he did. e had to go back and put on some things; he was rather sketchy when he turned up in the mater's room.” “And you?" Malcolm Sage flashed on him that steel-gray look of inter- rogation. For a moment the young man seemed embarrassed and he hesitated before replying. “As a matter of fact. I hadn’t turn- ed in,” he sald, at length. “I see,” said Malcolm Sage, and there was something in his tone that caused Glanedale to look at him quickly. “It was such a rippin’ night that I sat at my bedroom window smoking, he explained, a little nervously. “Which is your bedroom window?” Glanedale nodded in the direction of the farther end of the house. “That's the. governor's dressing room,” he said, indicating the wiu- dow on the Jeft of that through which HE . SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C., the burglar had escaped, “and the next is mine. “Did you see anything?” inquired Malcolm Sage, ‘Who, having unscrewed the mouthplece of his pipe, proceeded to clean it with a blade of ‘grass. * % k % GAIN there was the slightest sug- gestion of hesitation before Glanedale replied. “No, nothing. You see,” he added, hastily, “I was not looking out of the window, merely sitting at it. As a matter of fact, I was facing the other way.” “You heard no noise?" Glanedale shook his head. “So that the first intimation you had of anything being wrong was what?" he asked. “I heard the mater at her door call- ing for assistance, and I went imme- diately.” Malcolm Sage turned and regarded the water pipe speculatively. “I wonder if any one really could climb up that,” he said. “I'm sure I couldn’t.” “Nothing easier,” said Glanedale. “IL could shin up in two ticks” and he made a movement toward the pipe. “No,” said Malcolm Sage, putting a detaining hand upon his arm. “If you want to demonstrate your agility, try the other. There are marks on this I want to preserve. “Right-0,” crled Glanedale, with a laugh, and a moment later he was shinning up the farther pipe with the agility of a South Sea islander after cocoanuts. Malcolm Sage walked toward the pipe, glanced at it, and then at the footbrints beneath. “You were quite right,” he remark- “AT BREAKFAST WE DECIDED TO THE INSUR- »” SHE MOCKED. NCE COMPAN | ed, casuall, inquired: “Do you usually sit up late?" ‘'We're not exactly early birds,” Glanedale replied, a little irrelevant- y. “The mater plays. a lot of bridge, ¥ou know.” he added. 4 nd that keeps you out of bed Yes and no,” was the reply. “I can't afford to play with the mater's crowd; but I have to hang about until | after they've gone. The governor hates it. " You see,” he added, confi- dentially, “when a man’s had to make s ey he knows the value of it.” | o True.” saia laleolm Sage, but from in his eyes his | seemed elsewhere, e | vo By the way, what time was it that y. Then, a moment later he | | you had a shower here last night?” VA shower?” repeated Glanedale. Oh! y I remember, it was just about 12 o'clock; it only lasted about ten minutes. “I'll_think things over,” said Mal- colm Sage, and Glanedale, taking the hint, strolled off toward the house. Malcolm Sage walked over to where an old man was trimming a hedge. “Could you lend me a trowel for half an hour?" he inquired. o. dang it, I can’t,” growled the old fellow. “I ain't a-going to lend no more trowels or anything else.” “Why?” inquired Malcolm Sage. “There’s my best trowel gone out of the toolhouse,” he grumbled, “and 1 ain’t a-going to lend no others.” “How did it go?" “How should I know plained. “Walked out, same as trowels is alway “When did you miss it?" It was there day 'fore yesterday T'll swear, and I aint a-going to lend ne_more. “Do you think the man who took the jewels stole it?” inquired Mal- colm Sage. “Dang the jools." he retorted, “I want my trowel.” and, grumbling to himself, the old fellow shuffied off to the other end of the hedge. Half an hour later Malcolm Sage was in Hyston interviewing the in- spector of police, who was incoher- ent with excitement. He learned that Scotland Yard was sending down a man that afternoon; furthermore, that elaborate inquiries were being made in the neighborhood as to any suspicious characters having recently been seen. Malcolm Sage asked a number of questions, to which he received more less impatient replies. The in- spector was convinced that the rob- bery was the work of the same man who had got away with Mrs. Com- minge’s jewels, and he was impa- tient with any one who did not share this view. From the police station Malcolm Sage went to the Painted Flag, where, having ordered lunch, he got through to the Twentieth Century Insurance Corporation, and made an ::wolmmentt Lo omeel ome of the cessors at Home Py b ark at three he com- suppose, doin’. * * ok % MR, GRIMWOOD, of the firm of Grimwood, Galton & Davy, insur- ance assessors, looked up from the list in hi» hand. He was a shrewd little man, with side-whiskers, pince- nez that would never sit straight upon his aquiline nose, and an im- pressive cough. He glanced from Malcolm Sage to young Glanedale, then back again to Malcolm Sage; finally he coughed. The three men were seated in Sir ,Roger Glanedale’s library awaiting the coming of Lady Glanedale. “And yet Mr. Glanedale heard noth- ing,” remarked Mr. Grimwood mus- ingly. “Strange, very strange.” “Are you in the habit of sitting smoking at your bedroom window ?” llnqulrod Malcolm Sage of Glanedale, this eyes averted. I “Er—no, not exactly,” !hesitating response. ! “Can you remember when last you idid such a thing?” was the next i question. > ! “I'm afraid I can't,” said Glanedale, iwith an uneasy laugh. ! “Perhars you had seen something : that puzzled you,” continued Malcolm Sage, his restless fingers tracing an 1imaginary design upon the polished 1surface of the table before him. Glanedale was silent. He figured his moustache with a nervous hand, Mr. Grimwood looked across at Mal- colm Sage curiously. “And you were watching in the hope of seeing something more,” continued Malcolm Sage. “]—" began Glanedale, violent! ‘Then he stopped. “Don’t you think you had better tell us exactly what it was you saw?” said Malcolm Sage, raising a pair of gold-rimmed eyes that mercilessly beat down the uneasy gaze of the young man. “J—I didn’t say I saw anything.” “It is for you to decide, Mr. Glane- said Malcolm Sage, with an was . the starting 3 BT almost imperceptible shrug of his el oulders, “whether it js better to tell your story now, or under cross- examination in the witness box. 7There you will be under oath, and the proceedings will be public. At that moment Lagy Glanedald entered, and the! three men rose. “I am _sorry to interrupt you,” she said coldly, “but Sir Roger has Just telephoned and wishes to -speak to Mr. Glenedale.” “I fear we shall have to keep Sir Roger waiting,” said Malcolm Sage, n"nlklntf er to the door and closing Lady Glancdale looked at him in strprise. “I do not understand,” she uegan. “You will immediately,” said Mal- colm Saze quietly. “We were just discussing the robber: He slightly stressed the word “robbery. Really—"" began Lady Glanedale. ‘Mr. Glanedale was sitting at his window, smoking,” continued Mal- colm Sage evenly. “He cannot re- member ever having done sach 2 thing before. I suggested: . that something unusual had attracted his attention and that he was waiting to see what would follow. I was Just el‘!’h;r! to te‘ll him what had tract s attention whi tered, Lady Glanedale.” Yo N Glanedale looked across at his stepmother and then at M: age. Hita miscry was obvious, TTulcolm 8.‘ : “Last night, soon after twelve,” continued Malcolm Sage, *“Mr. Glane- daje happened to look out of his window andi was surprised to see a figure moving along toward the left. It was not the figure of a man with a handkerchief tied across his face a mask; but a woman. He atched. e saw it pause beneath e second window of your bedroom, Lady Glanedale, not the one by which the burglar entered. Then it stooped down. Sage's fingers seemed to be ng each movement of the mys- terious figure upon the surface of the table. Lady Glanedale gazed at bis long, shapely hands as if hypno- tizec. “Presently,” he continued, “it re- turned to the first window, where it was cccupied for some minutes. Mr. Glanedale could net see this; but the figure was engaged in making foot- prints and marking the sides of the water-pipe with a shoe or boot as high up as it could reach. It-—" “How dare you make such an ac- cusation!” cried Lady Glanedal “I have made no accusation,” Malcolm Sage quietly. * what Mr. Glanedale sa said | am telling AUGUST 7, 1921—PART 4. A hunted lcok sprang to Lady Glanedale’s eyes. She tore her eyes from those magnetic fingers and gazed atout her wildly as if meditat- irg flight. Her throat seemed as if made of leather. “Would you be prepared to deny all this in the witness box under oath, Mr. Glanedale?’ inquired Malcolm Sage. Glanedale looked at him with un- seeing eyes, then across at his step- mother. L “The woman had put on a pair of men’s boots that the footprints might be masculine. They were 8o much too large for her that she had to drag her feet along the ground. The boots were those of a man weighing, say, about eleven and a half stone; the weight inside those boots shown by the impression in the mold was lit- tle more than seven stone. The length of a man's stride is thirty inches; be- tween these steps the space was less than fifteen. Skirts are worn very narrow. uI ASKED you this morning to climb the other pipe for the double pur- pose of examining the impress of your boots on the mold as you left the ground and when you dropped back again on to the mold. Also to see what sort of marks a pair of leather boots would make upon the weather- worn paint of the pipe. “As you sprang from the ground and clutched the pipe there was a deep imress on the mold of the soles of both boots, deep at the toes and ta- pering oft toward the heel. On your return you made distinct heel-marks as well. 'here was & shower of rain last night about twelve, an hour before the alleged burglar arrived; yet the foot- prints were made before the rain fell. In two cases leaves had been trodden into the footprints; yet on these leaves were drops of rain just as they had fallen. “In the center part of the pipe there were no marks, although there were Hight scratches for as high up as the arm of a short person could reach, and as far down from the bedroom window as a similar arm could stretch. These scratches were quite dissimilar from those made on the other pipe. “Although there had been a shower and the mold was wet, there were no * % k¥ maraks of mud or mold on the pipe, on window-sill, or in Lady Glanes- dale’s bedroom, which, I understand. had purposely not been swept. A man vet he had slid down that water-pipe; had done so Wwithout so much as re- moving the surface dust from the paint. ~ “He had reached th: ground as 1ightly as a fairy, without making any mark upon the mold; the footprints were merely those of some one ap: proaching and walking from the pipe. “T think we shall find that the bur- glar has buried the jewel-case a few yards to the right of the pipe he is supposed to have climbed. There are indications that the mold has been disturbed. Incidentally a trowel is missing—" Glanedale suddenly sprang to his teet, just as Lady Glanedale fell for- ward in her chair—she had fainted. “It's a very unpleasant business,” marked Mr. Goodge, the general m: ager of the Twentieth Century Insur- ance Company, as he looked up from reading a paper that Malcolm Sage had just handed to him. In it Lady Glane- dale confessed the fraud she had sought to practice upon the corporation. “I don’t know what view the board will take,” continued Mr. Goodge, as Malcolm Sage made no comment. “They will probably present me with another walking stick,” he remarked indifferently. g Mr. Goodge laughed, Malcolm Sage's walking stick had been a standing joke between them. “What made you first suspect Lady Glanedale?” he inquired. “She had omitted to rehearse the episode of the burglary, and consequent- ly when it came to reconstructing the incident, she failed in a very important particular.” Malcolm Sage paused. “What was that?” inquired Mr. Goodge with interest. “She had already told me that the key of the safe was always kept be- neath a pile of handkerchiefs in one of the drawers of her dressing table; yet when | asked her to go through exactly the same movements and actions as when the burglar entered her room, she rose dircct from the bed and went to the safe, The dressing table was at the other end of the room, and to get to it she would have had to pass the spot Where she said the man was standing. Mr. Goodge nodded his head appre- ciatively. “The next point was that I discovered it was Lady Glanedale who suggested to the police inspector that means should be taken to prevent any one approaching the water pipe by which the man was supposed to have climbed. She was anxious that the footprints should be preserved. * % % *x “A NOTHER point was that young Glanedale happened to remark that his stepmother was much addicted to bridge, and that the stakes were t0o high to admit of his joining in. Also that men who have themselves accumu- lated their wealth know the value of money. Sir Roger disliked bridge and ly kept his lady short.” ¥Most likel; agreed Mr. Goodge. “He has the reputation of being a bit shrewd in money matters. When did you begin to suspect Lady Glane- ale?” s rom the first” “HBverything rang false. dale’s story suggested that been rehearsed until she had it by heart,” continued Malcolm Sage. “It was too straightforward, too clearly expressed, for the story of a woman who had just lost eight thousand pounds’ worth of jewels. When I put questions to her she hesitateé be- fore replying, as if mentally campar- ing her intended answer with what she had already told. “Then she was 80 practical in pre- paring a list of the lost jewels at once, and in warning her stepson not to go near the spot beneath her window. as there might be footprints; that at a time when she was supposed to be in a state of great excitement.” “Did you suspect young Glanedale at all?” queried Mr. Grimwoo *No,” said Malcolm Sage, “but to make quite sure I cast doubt upon the possibility of any one climbing the pipe. If he had been concerned he would not have volunteered to prove I Was wrong. “Even the professional criminal fre- quently underrates the intelligence of those whose business it is to frustrate him; but Lady Glanedale’s efforts in marking the water pipe would not have deceived a child. A powerful magnifying glass will show that on all such exterior pipes there is an ac- cumulation of dust, which would be removed from a large portion of the surface by any one climbing either up or down. Lady Glanedale had thought marks made by a boot or a shoe would be sufficient confirmation of her story She is rather a stupid woman™ he added. as he rose to go. “I suppose she got the idea from the Comminge affair? “Undoubtedly.” was the response: “But as I say, she is a stupid woman Vanity in erime is fatal: it leads the criminal to underrate the intelligence of others. Lady Glanedale is intensely was the reply. Lady Glane- it had vain “The board will probably want to thank you personall said Mr. Goodge as he shook hands; “but I'll try and prevent them from giving vou another walking stick,” he laughed. as he opened the door. (Copyright. 1921.) “Prince of Poets” of France to Visit America BY STERLING HEILIG. PARIS, July 30, 1921 AUL FORT, his long hair tum- bling negligently in yet grace- ful spit curls over brow and ears, bid tearful “au revoir” to the Latin Quarter and sailed for the: United States—on tour as “prince of poets.” Nobody told him about pro- hibition. Therefore, anything may happen— were he other than Paul Fort; but, being he, before he is half parched and desiccated, all kinds of helping hands will surely reach out to the best liked man of all the Latin Quar-l ter on his travels. He has the heart! of a boy (or of a skylark) and the charity of a saint. One of his volumes is entitled simply “The Lark,” and you would swear, on reading its verses, that they have been composed in the midst of wheat fields or in meadows doited with blue bells. Yet it would be an error. He has scarcely seen a mea- dow or a wheat fleld, and to write his “lark stuff” requires less pious communion with nature than pious accumulation of goblets. We Ameri- cans, who cherish so dearly every-~ thing that is exceptional and rare, will be charmed by Paul Fort's sin- gular distinction of having frequented the same Latin Quarter cafe for twenty years. Will it not be some- thing to announce “The prince of poets, the one and only French poet who has passed his life at the cafe?” The establishment is poetically called “The Lilac Close.” It is the most calm, correct and cultured cafe of the quarter. In it Paul Fort has led, for twenty years, an existence as regular as literary and adorned with goblets. You should see the “prince of poets” in his home surroundings. He enters the cafe. He seats himself worthily at a marble-topped table. A deft garcon worshipfully fetches the swift goblet, caraffe of ice water and two lumps’ of sugar. Confidentially he pours the divine ambrosia, green in color. with a fragrance of paregoric, and the water, mixing with it, turns it cloudy with opalescent glints, the dying glory of all the greens in the world. Whence the homely expres- sion “to strangle a parrot.” * % %k X THE poet gravelv sips. He pours in more water thoughtfully, replac- ing the displacement he has sipped. He sips again. He pours again. The milky green clears and the opal fires glint brighter. His disciples, wor- shiping, draw round the “prince of poet: Thus Paul Fort has written fifteen volumes. | When France was invaded in 1914, ! absinthe was put against the wall and shot. Blameless and mild, our hero turned to simple bitters, never doubt- ing in his heart of a boy that the real thing would return in its time, as it has done. With this same optimism he now risks the parched alkali sands of the great American desert to lec- ture happily and with emotion of his beloved France, with wit and intelli- gence of French poetry and litcrature. And when you hear him you will i not need to understand his lan- guage. . You will understand Paul| Fort, and it js_énough. Because, kindly observe that other men in France and elsewhere have entered a cafe, seated themselves at a marble- topped table and instructed the garcon to bring one of them things; and the garcon’s face did not light up with love, ;and no throng of disciples gathefed round to worship. It takes a Paul Fort to draw a Paul Fort crowd. Here is a man so silly. simple, kind of heart, that he would rather help another man succeed—no matter who —than make his own success! If this be poetry, make the most of it. Paul Fort lives poetry as well as tes it. And this lived stuff is so rich and rare in the world that real tough men are singularly touched by_it. We Americans, who appreciate so. highly everything that is exceptional and rare, will find Paul Fort equally phenomenal in his written. word. Continuing our announcements, one might make another poster like this: “The prince of poets, the one and only French poet who writes his poetry in prese!” In other words, he writes poetry without seeming to do 80., The heart of it is poetry, but thé form is skylarking. It-is mot what the pretentious noodles call vers libre; no, no. for it is art and has real verve, real freshness of senti- ment, a frank and beautiful joy of living, and an ingenuous ardor to sing and laugh. Paul Fort is typographical. He starts a new line every two lines, then nides two rhymes in these two linés, very tricky. It is not verse. It is not brose. It is Paul Fort. His pages are beautiful. There is more white n them than black. He leaves fair blank spaces, like broad meadows for the little lambs of fancy to dis- port in. SE HE tired business man finds the blank spaces easy reading. Wafi- dering in their spacious whiteness, you will come on heart songs.: ele- gies, heroic odes and “panic chants,” idylls and antique poems, _ little S 1 | l l | TERLING HEILIG, The Sunday Star's Special Correspondent in Paris, Writes of Paul Fort and the “Glory of the Closerie des Lilas"—Poet Frequents the Same Cafe for Twenty Years and Writes All His Poetry in } Prose—Fifteen Volumes of Peculiar Rhymes. | | : | | iliads and gaulish fancies, madrigals. complaints, rhythmed sayings rhymed epigrams in fifteen volumes. One of his volumes is entitled “What a Pleasure It Is to Me to Be French:” His most beautiful things are praises of France. Yet, they say, he mever quit Paris, all his life, except to make a trip once to Senlis and another time to spend three days at Marolles- | en-Hurepoix. To Paul Fort. the coun- tryside is the Luxembourg Garden, in the Latin Quarter, by the Odeon. True, they say also that it is the most beau- tiful garden in the world. Before he sailed 1 went to see the “Ptince of Poets.” There he sat, in- toning verses, with his crowd around in him, that Bohemian cafe, the ch is so clean, calm, neat PAUL FORT, ROW and motherly. They were not his own verses. It is always ten to one that they're some other fellow's verses or one-act play or song oOr essay on progress in art. Not to realize this is to miss the goodness of Paul Fort. Also— “If we nold forth in a cafe,”” he says, “it is because most of us have no parlor.” 2 I have seen Paul Fort protect long- haired American boys and encourage soulful-éved American girl students, tense, super-sensitive. self-doubting. yet all ardor, when they ask them- Belves: “Am I a poet? Am I a painter? Am I a playwright? Have I found something beautiful in art?” Paul Fort tells them ves. Or, cer- tainly, perhaps. For fear of dis- couraging one single obscure genius of tomorrow, the “Prince of Poets” is willing to drop every business of his, own, to examine, read aloud, discuss. shew forth and stand by any fellow's effort. For sure he will read their stuff aloud—and he is the most beau- tiful reader in the world. His low- toned golden voice throws glamor. The lone lad, who feared that folks would laugh at him, hears his own work thus gloriffied and thrills throughout his being. What a crowd it is around him! Never mind the rich young men who pay poor fellows’ printing bills where Paul Fort nods. Middle-aged Polish poets with four volumew seeking a publisher; English girls who have translated Swinburne into vers libre; American girls who have done Em- erson into French Alexandrine: lyric epigramists from Geneva, with dia- gram; Lettonian playwrights seeking a manager, and Belgian troubadors smelling of onions stick their hendfi into the door. *“Has he come yet? They wander about. “Has he gone? There he sits, the “Prince of Poets. with his bodyguard of worshipers! Yet in the babel where six take him by the coat tails, he finds time to accept_as precious deposit the boy’s (or old man’s) virgin verses! Rever- ently he puts the stuff into his pocket. If possible, he will get it published. Anyhow, he will read it aloud some evening. Fort 'made Maetterlinck Paul in and | greet the stammering newcomer and | q France, and he thinks no more of it than of those little ones. He was then a high school boy at the College Louis-le-Grand. Along with Andre turned! But, old dear, I wasn't ready! Won't you take another picture? 1 smiled. But the “Prince of Poets™ did not modesty and peace,” said. have brought a disturbing element: Fame, publicit TERLING HEILIG. —_— s(al’! and S(EYS . OW many surefire stars are there in motion pictures? Al Rockett of the Rockett Film Cor- poration says there are only half a dozen, and then Mr. Rockett goes on to tell why. Says he: “If you should see these two signs de Lorde, he rented a stage, engaged{n the electric lights at two different actors and trained them to play a piece of Maetterlinck’s when Maet- terlinck was unknown. It got both boys expelled, but it made Maetter- linck. ‘#n France,” Paul Fort sums him- self up, “in France we love art! * ok kK \\7“\' is he “Prince of Poets?’ He is “Prince of Poets” by election, aye, by acclamation! Ten years, suc- France you are a poet when you have “PRINCE OF POETS” OF FRANCE (AT RIGHT IN FRONT , WHO IS COMING TO AMERICA. a poem printed. There are hundreds of them, deft and graceful, putting into words the songs in their hearts, after having forgotten where they read them. 1s Paul Fort “Prince of Poets” by his poetry? Or does he owe his elec. tion partly to his goodness, his so- lemnity, his sympathy, his perennial youthfulness, and because he wel- comes this youthful mob and gets them printed in high-minded reviews. You cannot divide him up. You must take the “prince” as a whole. 1f poetry be a thing of pure imagin- ation, wherein the soul may show itself rather as it is than as it might wigh to be, then Paul Fort is “Prince of Poets.” He is the continuous Bo- hemian. He is the undying ‘Latin Quarter. He is what we were when we were younger. When he sings we recognize the same dear things we felt in days gone by. And now he goes to America! The “Prince.” believer in light, has gone to America. At the Closerie des Lilas he has led a protected life. I had a flush of pride for Paul when we were taking the flashlight photo- graph that last evening at the Clo- serie des Lila: The sheep scrabbled, yes; but the shepherd was not deranged in his mild calm, not a little bit! “We wish to take a photograph of Paul Fort and his friends” we said. Then a great whirlwind. At the word “mhotograph” they mobbed the central tables, packed the aisles and massed behind. Defore, be- side the “Prince of Poets” pawed his shoulders, clinched and scrambled —all to get within the focus of the camera. Like a dense swarm they clung to Paul—like bees around their ueen. ‘They hid the “prince.” They hid Zwiege, the hymn writer of Warsaw and Hudeloff, of the younger versify- ing set of Prague. They upset the tripod. And the photographer had to pry loose three deep to find Paul Fort. Flash! Pfef! Is that all? Is it But, monesicur, my head was theaters, which one would get your money Julia Marlowe in Shakespearean Roles Gertie Googan in Shakespearean Why? Plays “Julia. you know Julia of course. Because is a star, and cessively, they have elected him|go, . "ynow that Gertie is a star, unanimously. Who? Why, the poets. | though she may be. Years of ar- lall the poets! Who's a poet? Inftistic triumphs have proved to the world that Miss Marlowe is entitled to be called a star. Publicity didn't make her a star; she gets the pub- licity because she is a star. tars are first born and then made. he or he must be born with the ar. | tistic talent, and then made by train- ing to know the technique of dra- matic expr. ion. Without both a | star is not a star. “A star a player who has the goods and knows how to deliver them all the time. Every player has a \certain economic value, and the mo- tion picture studios are lassi- ‘fying Picture players according to type. ability, experience and econo- ,nomic value. “A surefire star is the best asset on earth. either in pictures or the stage nd the star syvstem becomes objec- !tionable only when short-sighted pro- ducers subordinate evervthing and jeverybody to the star. That is wh {in these days. the public prefers th no star (or ‘all star’) picture to the icture that stars a near star. ‘Where all players are stars there can be no star, and that's the kind of pictures the Rockett company is making. It is the solution of the fu ture and the solution of the star | question. One thing the pictures neca i& more stars, Slump Is Passing. THE wave of depression which hit the motion picture industry a few months ago is rapidly passing. accord ing to officials of the leading film companies, and by September the | movies will be back with a bang. l(hey say. Unlike other industries that feit the business slump early and went through a long period of depre | the motion picture companies was of short duration. Last it is said, when much was written about the decline of the movies, the industry actually was in the most prosperous period in its_ history. The economies and elimination of waste and extravagance in the mak- ing of motion pictures effected at that time by some of the leading produc- ers was interpreted by many as a slump. In reality, the move was made in anticipation of the natural depres sion which came with the hot weather four months later. Only this summer has seen a prolonged period of in- tense heat, which has accentuated the expected depression and made it worse than it would be normally. | With the close of the summer sea- son, always a poor one in the amuse- ment business, the long lines befor the motion picture box offices are ex- pected to return and producers urc now busy preparing for another yeur that will break attendance record Reports from all parts of the United States which have been received at the New York offices of the film com- panies are said to show that factories are preparing to reopen. banks are lending money more freely. depart- ment -stores are showing bigger re- ceipts and busineas men generally are preparing to start the wheels turning once more. All this means more business for the motion picture theaters, it is claimed, and the producers already have launched production of larger and better pictures to be given to the public this fall. Films in Education. PET theory of Rex Ingram, pro- > ducer of “The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse” and “The Conquering Fogger.” is that motion pictures wirr . time virtually supplant oral instruction in the schools. He believes that the eye impressions work more powerfully on the brain than those of things heard. A test of the theory, it is said, was made recently in Detroit, where a school class was divided into two groups of equal intelligence. One group had a ?on picture lesson: no explanation given by a teacher. The lesson lasted thirteen minutes. The other group received oral instruction from a teacher for fifty-five minutes. Then each group was tested on the lessong The average grade of the motion picture group was 3.26 per cent higher thai t of the oral group. s e