Evening Star Newspaper, October 16, 1921, Page 77

BOOK AGENT has many strange experiences, but per- haps the most remarkable is what happened to Benny. the ook agent, selling “Aunt Jane's Cook Book,” at $2 per copy, when he en- tered the door of No. 40 Elm avenue, “Westcote, Long Island. Down Elm mvenue came Benny, with his oilcloth- ~wrapped sample copy of “Aunt Jane’s «‘ook Book™ under his arm, stopping at one house after another and being Aurned away from one after the other quite uniformly. At the ornate iron zate of No. 40 Benny paused to take a last whiff of his cigarette; then he Threw away the butt, entered the gate #nd walked up the path to the door of the spacious, solid-looking man- sion. It was late July or early Au- gust, and the day was hot and still—a sleepy, drowsy, yawny day. Benny yawned as he pushed the electric bell button and then turned and blinked at the street. The door opened behind him and he turned. Lutler of solemn mien held the door open. Peace and calm! Benny step- ped inside the doorway. Instantly two strong men threw themselves upon Benny and bore him to the floor, and six rough hands bound and gag- zed him. He had a glimpse of a fair face above the costume of & parlor maid and then he was thrown into a tall, Spanish hall chair and tied fast n it, and the three men. including James, the butler, pounced upon the oilcloth-covered copy of “Aunt Jane's z Cook Book” and jerked off the oil- [t <loth, as though to discover the prop- ¥ er method of making angel food or " mock-chicken croquettes was a_matter of life and death with them! Why an innocent book agent should be so . treated, why three men should show % ~uch a mad interest in “Aunt Jane's % «<'ook Book,” and what thnened ‘be- fore and after is all part of the story. * % ¥ % A [44i p BE" sald Rosa Adelheim to her 4% Jover. Abe Roseheld, who was l« only a salesman in Helger's piano and : music emporium, Main street. West- ' cote, “papa and mamma won't let me : marry you, no matter what I say , about it. Against you they don't say ,4nyth$ng. except you are too poor, ! but all the time they talk up Mr. . Heiger to me. So, last night what © did I do but come right out and ask |\ why they had it in for you, Abe, and ! they didn't have any reason at all. - xcept you ought to get a fortune be- i fore vou look at a girl her father is ¥ retired already, like papa is.” “Yes,” said Abe, sarcastically, “and 4 every day a clerk in Helgers' could i pick up a couple of fortunes, couldn’'t he? Good chance, Rosal” “Well, there you are, Abe!” she an- wered. “You know how father is ince he got it, the gout, in his foot, nd scared by that doctor all the time That it is going to his Leart. Could I talk back at him like I'd want to if T wasn't afraid he'd get so mad he'd | have a heart stroke? ‘Hush!’ mamma | says all the time, ‘don’t speak of Abe o vour father when he's so set on having you marry Mr. Helger as soon as wae get_back from Europe and Ger- 5" eried Abe. * said Rosa, sadly, “that's what it is now. Abe. Baths and drinks at . some cure place is what the doctor 1ells papa to take and right away we must go. Oh, Abe, my heart is ‘most broken!’ Abe held her hand silently for a few minutes. “When do you go, Rosa?” he asked at length. “Almost right away. Abe,” she re- plied. “On the Germanic next Wed- nesday. Papa should go as soon as he can, the doctor says.” For awhile Rosa sat silent. She was herself afraid of the constant urging s of her mother and of the difference : «istance might make in the vividness of her impression of Abe. She did not dare utter one-half her fears and at length she arose. “Now I must go, Abe” she said, “for it is getting late already and ramma will talk a lot if she thinks I'm with vou. Honest. she don't like it any better than I do that we must o abroad. Once more papa can't af- ford to give her that birthday neck- lace on account of the cost of the trip. Sooner would mamma have that neck- | Jace than see all the foreign places on the map.” Mr. Adelheim himself did not relish , the idea of having to go abroad. ‘When he retired from business he did so to enjoy his home life and the house that protected it. The house was one of which even a man of Mr. Adelheim’s wealth might well be proud. and the solld elegance of the interior and its decorations were, Mr. Adelheim enjoyed saying., “in keeping.” This included furniture and servants, for Mr. Adelheim desired only the best of each. Mamma Adel- heim was perhaps not yet educated up to Mr. Adelheim's idea: more apt to choose ser Iy virtues than to be n _keeping” with their surroundings. and for that veason Mr. Adelheim, as long as he was able to move about freely, visited the employment agencies himself. He chose man servants and maid servants such as he had seen in the best regu- Jated palaces and mansions ever por- trayed on any Broadway stage, wait- ing on lords and ladies in high-class, scene-painted ancestral halls. He w. proud of his parlormaids in short black skirts and white caps aprons, and prouder than all was he of James. his butler. James had calves equal to anything ever shown in silk stockings. James had a man- ner as impressive as it was severe and that stolid cast of countenance known only on superior butlers and ex-convicts. For six months James had given Mr. Adelheim the greatest satisfaction, and when Mr. Adelheim’'s physician peremptorily ordered the old gentle- man abroad the fact that he must zive up James was a source of real regret. He hated to lose a butler like ames—he might never secure an- other such jewel. To close the house t 40 Elm avenue and disperse his carefully chosen household was Mr. Adelheim’s reason_for disliking the trip to Kurope. Mrs. Adelheim. as Rosa had hinted to Abe, had another reason. t and * % % x R several years, and year after year, Mr. Adelheim had promised his wife a birthday necklace of dia- monds, but each year he had put her ofZ with excuses. But a short time be- fore she had almost secured the neck- lace. Mr. Adelheim's physical ill-be- ing gout tied him to a wheel chair and a week or so before his physician uttered the ultimatum regarding the ropean trip Mr. Adelheim had de- ided to repay his wife for her pa- tience under his irritation by buying the necklace. He had been lifted from his wheel chair for some easier repose ! on a couch when he made the decision and he called James and asked him to 1elephone to Dibdin, the famous jew- eler. It was the voice of James that Dibdin heard asking that some half dogen diamond necklaces be sent out for inspection, and it was James who admitted the young clerk who brought the necklaces and it was James who stood by the master’s side While Mr. Adelhelm examined the zems. James opened the door to let the jeweler's man out after Mr. Adel- heim had decided that none of the necklaces was what he wanted. “You could tell Mr. Dibdin T tele- James. “You can’t blame me for the way they do things. It's not my fault they keep everything locked up in safe deposit—can you?" “Who's blamin® you?* asked Mike- Thief. T was only saying it.” said James gently. “I was only making it clear. You don't think I enjoy buttling around a place, however good, for six months for the mere wage Mr. Adel- heim pays me. do you? ‘Nobody said you did, did they?” asked Mike. Not at all™ sald James. “T don't want you to think I'm playing off on you, that's all. There's not been a minute during the six months I've been there that the jewels were out of storage. And the rest of the stufft—"" “The silver? We're lookin" bigger stuff, ain’t we, Larry?" Larry nodded an affirmative. “Exactly,” sald James. ‘“And now e;w‘r:es our chance, as I take it. There's rigk— “Me, T eat risk!" mald Mike. “See if 1 get you right, Jim. The fambly goes on the Germanic Wednesday. She sails at 11, forenoon. Most of the help is sent away Tuesday night. You and the cook and this Mrs. Adelheim's maid and the chauffer hold over till next for “TWO, THREE, day. into automobeel about 9 o'clock and the cook packs up and goes. The chadffer he leaves the car in storage in New York and he goes to hunt an- other job. That leaves you, and you stay to lock up the house and put eut the cat and the rest of the stuff.” “There is no cat,” said James, sober- Y “And then you telephone Dibdin to send out that bunch of necklaces again because the old man has made up his mind to buy. Is that right?” “Quite,” said Jam “And me and Larry are on hand to do the triek.” said Mike. “But what I can's see is what you want to run the Beaut in on this for? “Because,” said James, “the im- portant moment is the moment when I open the front door and the man from Dibdin's looks into the hallway. That moment he must be unsuspi- cious. I open the door, he sees a parlor maid going away from him. She looks back and smiles. He has no thought of picion. He steps across the doorsill and T close the door. We all leap on him and gag and bind him. We get the necklaces and get away. “Like taking candy from a child!" said Mike. “Say, it's almost too easy. * % %k heim and his family planned to sail on the Germanic was an ideal morning for beginning a voyage. The sparkling and the day promised to be hot, Early enough to permit the au- tomobile to reach the Germanic's dock, Mr. Adelheim, his wife, Rosa and Mrs. Adelheim's maid entered the automobile under the porte cochere land were driven away. James—in street costume—saying the last fare- well. As the car glided from the ldriveway into Elm avenue, James waved his hand and then he turned and entered the house. He walked immediately to the back door and opened i admitting Mike. Lop-ear and the Beaut. and then he closed the door and locked it. The front door of the Adelheim mansion opened inward and when it was opened a man standing behind it was fully hidden. Mike was placed behind the door. On the opposite side of the hall James placed a tall- backed Spanish oak chair. Behind this it was easy for Lop-ear to con- ceal himself. The Beaut, a pile of freshly laundered linen in her arms, stood with one foot on_the lowest step of the stairway. James stood by the door, ready to open it. When the man from Dibdin's rang the door- bell James would open the door and the Beaut. looking back over her shoulder, would smile and mount the stairs. James would ask the man from Dibdin's to enter, and as he crossed the threshold Mike and Lop- car would throw themselves upon him from behind and bear him down and with the aid of James bind and gag him before he could so much as cry out. It was an admirable plan. Benny, the book agent. that same morning left the Westcote Hotel with his sample copy of “Aunt Jane's Cook Book” under his arm ready for a day of business. It was his fifth day in Westcote and he had d‘one well there and was feeling fine. Experience had taught Benny that there was little chance of selling books in the early morning, and he walked slowly down the main street, stopping now and then to look into a window or to light a fresh ciga- rette and thus he came to Harger's, where Abe Rosenheld stood in the doorway. Benny stopped to look into the window where an array of phono- &raphs and records made a pleasing Idlsplu)n ‘With proper business alert- ness Abe stepped to his side. _“We just got in a new lot of those No. 7 sizes,” he sald in a friendly tone. “Maybe you would like to come inside and hear how good a few records sound on a low-price ma- chine like that?" “Guess not.” sald Benny. “Phono- gra.!)h is something I can't use. I don’t stay in one place long enough. I'm a book agent, see? I chase ali over the country. Unless you've got a folding phonograph that will fold up and fit in a vest pocket I'd have to carry a trunk. This is some morn- ing. isn't it?" “Fine!” said Abe. e “How's book- phone him in a week or two, maybe,” Mr. Adelheim had said. but before the “week or two™ arrived the sentence of banishment came and Mr. Adelheim pleaded the additional cost of the trip s an excuse for not buying the neck- lace. James, although an ex-convict and able to secure a position with re- <pectable people only by the use of forged letters of recommendation, was thoroughly a butler. Even when off duty he maintained the lordly manner of his profession and as he sat at a small table in the back room of Dacey’s saloon he seemed to be quite @ harmless creature, not at all like Mike-the-Thief or Lop-ear Larry on whose faces crime had left traces. “There were four at the table and the fourth was Lizzie, better known as “Can’'t complain,” answered Benny jauntily. “I've given most of this burg the once over and I've got rid of over a hundred books, and that is going some, believe me! Say, you look as if you'd lost your last friend.” A lover is always ready to pour his troubles into a sympathetic ear and Benny counted sympathy among his assets. In three minutes Benny was inside Harger's and Abe was telling his Rosa troubles. “And only this morning she is going away,” he said, “and I feel rotten and no mistake. How I should live through it I don’t know." “You got to do something to for- get it sald Benny wisely. “Get over to New York once in a while in the evening and see a good musical show. That's what cheers me up Liz-the-Beauty. or Lizzie-the-Beaut, or as simply the Beaut, on account of her pretty face. The four leaned over the table, their heads close togethar. .“And that's our only chance,” said when I've had a bad day with ‘Aunt Jane's. I make tracks for the box office. Say, why don’t you let me ring you up and fix it to drag you away from gloom some of these even- Ings? Maybe I'll be fecling pale ‘WESTCOTE,” ‘WHISPERED AGAIN AND AGAI THE morning on which Mr. Adel-I sun was bright and the air was! blue myself by tonight If T get & streak of door-slamming instead of glad-hands. Have you seen the ‘Persian Peai how 7" “Me, I haven't seen nothing at all,” sald Abe. “All right, then” sald Benny. “Maybe T'll call you up this after- noon and fix up a date for tonight with you. What's your telephone number here?” “Two three, Westcote,” said Abe. “Fasy one to remember,” said Benny. “Twenty-three for Abe. Maybe I'll call yoy up. Say, what's the shortest way to Elm avenu “I could tell you that with my eyes shut,” said Abe, and he told it with his eyes open. Benny wended his way to Elm ave- nue. It was a broad avenue, parked down the middle with grass plots in which flower beds alternated with groups of barberry and hydrangeat All the houses were pretentious structures, and Benny began at the lower end of the avenue and worked his way up one side, beginning witk No. 1. At noon he had—so regular was his dismissal from the front doors—reached the end of the street and begun on the even numbers on the opposite side. He cut through to 0o \ HE i ! | The fambly and the maid plles ] Dixon street at noon and ate a lunch- eon at a restaurant there and then returned to Elm avenue. Five min- utes before 1 o'clock he opened the iron gate of No. 48 Elm avenue and started up the walk., James, peering through the lace of the front door panels, turned as he saw Benny enter the yard with the oilcloth-covered parcel under his arm. “Get ready!" he exclalmed. comes the man from Dibdin's." When James called up Dibdin's Mr. Dibdin had not the least suspicion of anything wrong. James did not make the mistake of giving his false mes- sage to a clerk. He asked for Mr. Dibdin_himself. 'Mr. Dibdin?" he inquired when that gentleman went to the telephone. “This i Mr. Adelheim’s residence in Westcote speaking. This is James, the butler, speaking for Mr. Adel- heim, sir. Mr. Adelheim would like you to send out the necklaces he looked at recently, sir. One moment. Mr. Adelheim wishes you would in- lude a few somewhat less expensive —perhaps as low as $500. I beg par- d‘on sir? I'll just ask Mr. Adelheim. sir.! le waited a few moments. Mr. Adelheim says it will not be worth while sending anything worth over a thousand dollars. He cannot use anything over that value. Oh, v sir! Mr. Adelheim will be here at 1 o'clock. Any time between 1 and 5, sir. He is confined to the house at all times. He—I beg pardon? Very well, sir! He replaced the receiver and turned to Mike and Lop-ear, rubbing his hands gleefully. “He's going to send eight or_ten he chuckled. “Eight or ten. Some- where between four thousand and ten thousand dollars. Excellent business, Michael, excellent business!” * ok ok ok B!."l‘ one thing. and that unknown to the robbers—for a wandering book agent cannot be counted a seri- ous menace—threatened the success of the plot. The Germanic did not sall! When Mr. Adelheim's automobile reached the dock it was halted by a placard reading “On Account of the War All Sailings Canceled Until Further Notice.” It was 11 o'clock and Mr. Adel- heim’s house was closed and servant- les: There was nothing to be done but go to a hotel until Mr. Adelheim could learn whether 1t would be safe, in any event, to venture a visit to the German baths and whether any boat would sail that could convey his party. He gave the order to his chauffeur and the blg motor car turned and rolled away from the dock. Mr. Adelheim sat with his chin on his breast, thinking. as the car rolled up Seventh avenue. “You, Rosa, could anyway go out to Westcote and see if maybe you could fix it to open up the house again if we have to. Might you could find James out there and he could get back the servants and you could telephone to the hotel right away after and let me know and 1 could tell you do we sail or not. “Yes, father,” said Rosa, her heart leaping at the thought that she might not be taken so, far from Abe after all. They dropped her at the Penn- sylvania station and proceeded to the hotel Mr. Adelheim had chosen. “Papa,” said Mrs. Adelheim, as she got out of the automobile, “if maybe we don’t go and don’t have the ex- pense you could buy me that birth- day necklace, y Now you are in town we could go together to Dib- din's and look at what he's got. ure we could!” said Mr. Adel- heim. “And we could go up there now, before we have lunch,” said Mrs. Adelheim. Jf Mr. Adelheim had agreed to this there would have been no question of a robbery, but a twinge of pain in his foot turned Mr. Adelheim's pla- cidity to irritability at that moment. “After we find out something about the boats is plenty time, mamma,” he said crossly. “The necklaces are not vegetables that they would all rot and spoil in a couple of hours, I as- sure you.” Mr. Dibdin was then placing the last of ten necklaces in a box. “Royston,” he sald to one of his most trustworthy clerks, “take these out to Mr. Adelheim, 40 Elm avenue, Westcote. He will choose one. You need not ask for the mone: Mr. Adelheim is good for any amount. Benny, the book-agent, pressing the button of the electric door bell of No. 40 Elm avenue, did so without hurry or eagerness. He only both- ered to press the button at all be- cause it was part of his system not to miss a single house on any street he was working. Not a book had he sold on the entire aristocratic avenue and No. 40 looked less likely than any of the other houses. It looked hopeless, so hopeless that Benny /took out his cigarette box and prepared to light a cigarette as soon as the door should have been slammed in' his face. He stood carelessly looking at the door and it opened. In the door- way, dignified and haughty, stood James. “How do you do?” said Benny. “ I standing would 1iKé to see—' “Yes, sir,” said James, back to one side, the better to hide Lop-ear and the Spanish chair; “will you please step inside, sir?” I “Here Benny steppde inside. He caught & glimpse of the Beaut and smiled. Instantly two powerful men threw themselves upon him and bote him to the floor, wrapping their arms around his neck and smothering his first yelp of surprise. The door slammed be- hind him and James jumped into the mess and grasped Benny by the legs. Benny was very much surprsied. Held to the floor, he heard the deep breathing of‘ the three men as they bound his hands and ankles and fasténed cool-feeling linen dolleys around his head, working with mad haste. Perhaps no book agent had ever stepped innocently through a2 doorway to such a reception. So deftly and rapidly did the men work that in a minute or less Benny was trussed and bound fast in the tall-backed Spanish chalr, one eye only showing over the tap of the bandages that wrapped his head. ‘What he would have id no one will ever know. He did not say it because he could not speak. What expression his face might have shown will no less remain unknown, for his face was completely hidden. Only the one eye remained uncov- ered. But one thing seemed certain —they were not kindly intentioned | gentlemen, tnese three that had | handled him so roughly. The ugly glances they threw at him as they Dacked away from hlm suggested that this was no merry joke they | were playing. | It seemed, a moment later, that | it was Benny's book—his sample “cony of “Aunt Jane's Cook Book™ they were after, for all three dived for it as they removed their eyes from Benny. They dived for it eagerly, like men securing a much desired treasure, but Lop-ear, being the most spry. put his hands on the oilcloth-covered parcel first and tore off the wrapper. Instantly his look of ecager greed changed to one of fatuous surprise, like that of a child that slips a seemingly tempting morsel into its mouth and discovers it is & stinging, burning red pepper. His mouth fell open and his eyes bulged. He goggled at the harm- less sample copy of “Aunt Jane's Cook Book"” stupidly James find Mike, bending to catch the first zlimpse of the sparkling necklaces, showed _their surprise in different | ways. James, still haughty, looked as if some one had suddenly stuck a ‘p in_his plump calf. Mike swore. “Blank!” he said with utter dis- gust. “This ain't no diamonds, this here is a book.” He turned and glared at James. “You're a gwell guy, ain't you?' he snarled. “You set out to catch a diamond man and you catch a book agent. * % ¥ % Y, the words filtering through bandages, would have grinned if the bandages had not held his faclal muscles dormant. He was a cheerful chap, merry under adver- | sity. He wished he could speak. so that he might rally the three robbers on their disappointment, but he uld not speak. One eye only was at liberty, and he turned this eye on The Beaut. jly for the fraction of a second and then he screwed up the eye and winked! He winked twice. ‘The effect was anything but what he might have expected. The Beaut did not smile an acknowledgment of her appreciation' of the joke. She turned pale and looked at Benny's free eye with wide-eyed fear. As the three men wrangled over the misfortune that had thrown a book agent into their hands she stepped closer to Benny and stared at him, trying to remember whether she had ever seen that winking eye before. ‘To her gullty mind the wink meant something hidden and dire. It seemed to hint some mutual knowledge. Benny winked again. The Beaut backed away, keeping her eyes on Benny, and touched James on the arm. “What's the matter? he asked, croesly, for she interrupted him in the midst of a discussion whether it would be better to make a getaway at once or walt for the man from Didbin’s. James and Mike were in favor of waiting; Lop-ear was for getting away while the going was good. “What's the matter now The Beaut turned to Benny. “He's not frightened!” she gasped. “What of it?" asked James. “Sup- pose he ain't? “I don’t like it,” said The Beaut. “He winked at me. He was trying to fix something with me. Mike, I think he's a detective.” Mike turned and looked at Benny sharply. “What if he 187" he asked. “If I had all the detectives and all the cops fixed like I've got him fixed I wouldn’t worry none. Now— The door bell rang. For an in- stand the robbers and The Beaut stood motionless. James tiptoed to the door and looked through the lace panels. “Get him out of here; into the other room with him!” he whispered. “It's the daughter. Get him out and :nm back. We've got to handle er.” Walking carefully, Mike and Lop- ear lifted Benny and his chair and carried them into the Iibrary and deposited him against the wall and returned. They took their positions on either side of the door as before and James opened the door. “Why, James!” exclaimed Miss Rosa. “I_hardly expected— She had no time to say what she had hardly expected, for Mike and Lop-ear were upon her, as they had been upon Benny, and before the frightened girl could faint with fear they had bound and gagged her and tied her to a chair as they had tled Benny. ‘They carried her into the library and placed her chair alongside that of Benny, quite as if they were econ- omizing space so that they might have room for allcomers. Poor Rosa, with two free eyes, tried to twist her head to see who her companion might be, and Bemny, twisting his head, winked = cheerful, hopeful, wink. A fraction of the pamic fear left Rosa’s eye she breathed a long. deep sigh and watted in her bonds, hanging loose and lmp in a faint. Benny, seeing she needed no more comforting at the moment, went on with what he had been doing. By pressing upward im his chair he was able to move his head upward a fraction of an inch, and by dropping down again he lowered his head by the same space. He was not doing this for amusement. ‘When he pushed his head back against the back of the chair his bandages pressed against the carving \ He looked at her stead- | D. C, OCTOBER 16, 1921—PART Z.' 0. 40 Elm Avenue— Another Benny Story, by Ellis Parker Butler of the chair back. Slowly—very slowly—he was working his ba: dages upward, and as the three ra; cals and The Beaut rearranged the hall for the reception of the man from Dibdiu's the bandage worked up and down. It covered his eye. It :e‘l.ch;rdoa his lfo;e‘!al‘e’wd. His mouth , only en by a flap of doily. _Then slowly and lnchn by inch Benny began hunching _his chair forward across the oiled floor of the library. The rugs were in storage and were not there to im- pede him. slowl{, inch by inch, he approached the iibrary table. e arms of his chair touched the edge of the table and Benny, with a last upward and downward Iift of his head, worked off the bandages. A foot or so back from the edge of the table stood the desk telephone of Mr. Adelheim, and Benny _tilted his chair forward until his breast rested against the table edge and his teeth could bite the mouthplece of the telephone. Very cautiously he drew the telephone toward himself. He bent his head a little lower and took the cord of the receiver in his teeth. With infinite care he lowered the receiver to the table and let it lie there. He placed his 1ips close to the mouthplece. “Two, three, Westcote. Two, three, Westcote. Two, three, Westcote,” he whispered again and again, hardly louder ‘than a drawn breath. Then he changed. “Abe Rosenheim, get cops and come to 40 Elm avenue. Abe Rosenheim get cops and come to 40 Elm avenue. Abe— From the receiver lying on the ta- ble a voice fssued faintly. “Why? What's the matter?" “Robbers in the house: book agent and girl in danger. Hurry. Sur- round hou Hurry™ ITH superb carefulness Benny lifted the receiver with his teeth and hung it back on the hook. With his head "he pushed the telephone back on the table as far as he could. Slowly and carefully he hunched the chair away from the table. When it was three feet away he threw hi: body heavily sldeways against h bonds and the chair toppled sldeways to the floor with an amazing clai ter. The three robbers and The Beaut dashed into the room. “Trying to get to the telephonel” cried Mike, and he raised the chair upright and slapped Benny acros the face. Benny laughed out lou He did not care how much they slap- ped him. He wished to gain time for Abe Rosenheld to reach the house. Mike pushed the chair back against the wall and swung & couch in front of it. James returned to his place at the front door. “Quick!” he cried, clapping his hands. “Here comes the man from Dibdin’s! This time 1t wi the man from Dibdin’s. with his precious box un- der his arm. Mr. and Mrs. Adelheim, having lunched, and having learned that Germany was not at the moment apt to be & salubrious climate for in- valids, entered their automobile and drove to Dibdin's, reaching that fa- mous establishment just as the clerk with the necklaces was stepping aboard the train at the Pennsylvania station. Mr. Adelheim asked at once for Mr. Didbin, for he meant to deal directly with the arbiter of prices, but Mr. Dibdin was out and would not be back for half an hour or 80. Mrs. Adelheim awaited him by walking through the store, looking into the cases of jewels, and Mr. Adel- helm sat in Mr. Dibdin’s own office. The moment the great dlamond mer- chant entered he recognized Mrs. Adelhefm. Mrs. Adelhelm? You here? And I sent the necklaces to your house not ? _Somebody else house, maybe, Mr. Dibdin. My ho it 1s closed up. To Germany we were going this morning only the. boat don’t sail like we expected an The great jewelers are always pre- pared for such emergencies. He had but to turn to the nearest clerk. “Phone Brunn's Agency diamond thieves at—your address, Mrs. Adel- heim?—at 4 Elm avenue, Westcote. Haste! Come Mrs. Adelheim, T wiil go _there, too. Henry, get Higgins and Varger into my car quick. Is Mr. Adelhetim—7" “We have our own car.” sald Mrs. Adelheim. “We ride in our own car jast as quic And Rosa we sent out there!" She did not faint. She hurried Mr. Adelheim into the car and the chauf- feur cut free from all speed laws and made & record. Mr. Dibdin's car had three minutes’ start, but Mr. Adel- heim's car gained a minute on the way to Westcote, and that meant something. In the man from Dibdin's we are not much interested. Men from Dib- din’s must expect adventures at times and perhaps this particular man from Dibdin’s may have had other adven- tures In the course of his business, but he had had none in which he was more graciously received by a stately butler nor more expeditiously thrown down on a hard hall floor, nor more quickly_bound, gagged and tied in a chair. He saw the three robbers open his case of necklaces and gloat over the contents for one short minute and then—as _he had a sickly intuition of what Dibdin would say when the loss of the jewels was discovered—he heard men leaping onto the veranda and heard the door crash in. He sa: The Beaut, with her hand on her heart, leap up the stairs and saw Mike-the-Thief and Lop-ear Larry and James, the butler. fall struggling under the blows of five brawny po- licemen while Abe Roseheld rushed into the library and half sobbing and half laughing cut the bonds of poor Rosa. Abe was still rubbing the hands of his sweetheart when the two automobfles whirred up the gravel driveway. One of the police- men was coming down the stairs with his hard_fist clutching _‘The Beaut's arm as Mr. Adelheim hobbled painfully into the house and another policeman told Mr. Adelheim briefly and with proper emphasis how Abe Roseheld had come to the rescue of the man from Dibdin's and the dia- mand necklaces and Rosa. “And she's in there” said the po-! liceman. “She fainted, but I guess | she's all right enough. That feller | Abe is lookin’ after her.” “Rosa!” cried Mrs. Adelheim. “And | Abe!” she exclaimed as she knelt by | her daughter. “You are & brave man, ! cold 1 co — - 9 - Abe. No more do I say you couldn't have Rosa after this, Abe. Rosa, do you know me “Yes, mama,” she said. “In a min- ute I will be all right again. Abe, if you squeeze my hund so hard you will make me faint again. Mr. Adelheim, hobbling painfully on his gouty foot, entered the roomn and saw Benny, the book agent, still bound in his chair. A glare of anger blazed in Mr. Adelheim's eyes. He hobbled across the room. “And you!” he shouted. “Yon would come into my house and be : thief! You would frighten my Ro Here's for you, rascal that you ar * * % * E balanced himself unsteadily, favoring his gouty foot, and raised his cane high in the air over his head. He brought it down to- ward the head of the bound and help less Benny. It was a blow fit to brain any one that had braine. but Benn moved his head to one side and the cane splintered on the back of the tall, Spanish oak hall chair. The next instant Abe was holding Mr Adelheim by the arm. “No, papa!” he cried. “You should not hit him. He is not a robber, he is a book agent. He isn't the one what did it, he is the one what undid it. Mr. Adelheim growled. “What, then, is he doing in mv house, this book agent?” he demand- ed fiercely. “I am selling,” sald Benny cheer- ful ‘one of the most remarkahle works ever published in this or anv other country. One volume, contain- ing all the choicest recipes of all the well known cooks of the world, (o gether with tables of weights and measures and other valuable house- hold information, the price for the cntire compendium being only §2 50 cents down and the balance on de- livery of the hook. If somebody will untie me 1 will be pleased to show sample copy— " “Well, my frie Abe. as he went to release Benny, “I could sax this; tied or untled. you could right away put me and Rosa down for one . and I don’t kick if T have pay it the whole $2 in cash after what you done for me.” (Copyright, 19211 THE BUSINESS MINISTER — — continued He said Kimball was in he slowly. “N thrown off, and as he fell called out” “That's right, sir.” said Hall heart- ily. “But I reckon there is more to it than that. When MF. Kimball came out this morning I was waiting for him in the park. It was rather touch and go, because he had some men st work above the lake. He went down that way to the statlon. As he was crossing the bridge he tried the rails. It's very odd, sir, but a bit of the bar—It's sort of rustic stuff— was that loose it came oft in his hand. He put it back and went on. He met Mr. Sandford in the road and turned back with him. I had to get out of the way quick. I judged they were coming back to tpe house, so I did a run and dropped over the fence. Then I went into the rhododendrons and waited for them to pass. You see. sir, Parker had to keep well out of sight behind, and T was as near A8 makes no matter. Well, it was Mr. Kimball made the quarrel. One min- ute they were walking quite ftiendly, the next he whips round on Mr. Sand- ford and he called him a bad name. I couldn’t hear all, he was talking so quick, but there was ugly words in it. Then he made to strike Mr. Sand- ford, and Mr. Sandford closed and chucked him back, and into the water |he went just where that same rail that he looked at was loose. But it's true enough as he fell he called out, “You scoundrel, you've murdered m “Well, well. So ke didn't bring it oft after all” said Reggie. “We trumped his last card. “Sir?” said the detective “You were the trump,” said Reggie. Oh, my aunt, I feel much better 1 wonder if there's any lunch in these parts? What about it, Lomas, old thing? {_“I'm damned if T understand {Lomas. “I want Sandford. Let’ up to the house.” They found Sandford sitting In an easy chair in the dead man’s library. He was reading: to Reggie's inef- fable admiration he was reading a book by Mr. Sidney Webb on the history of trade unions. Sergt. Parker, the detective, made himself uncom- fortable at the table and pored over his mnotebook. “All right, all right, Parker. Quite understood,” Lomas waved him awa: ‘Good afternoon, Mr. Sandford. Sorry to detain you. Most unfortunate af- air. Good afternoon. It is not neces- sary to apologize,” said Sandford, completely himself. “I realize that the police must require my account of the affair. Yesterday afternoon Mr. Kimball rang me up at my rooms. He said that my affair—that was his phrase—my affair had taken a new turn, and he wished me to come and see him here this morning. He named the train by which I was to travel. I thought it strange that he should bring me into the country, but I had no valid ground of objection. Accord- ingly I came this morning. I thought it strange that he sent no conveyance to meet me. I started to walk to the house. In the lane he met me walk- ing. He talked of indifferent things in a rather broken manner, I thought, but that was common with him, and yet T was surprised he did not come to the point. He was, however, quite friendly until we reached the bridge over the lake. Then, without any warning or reason, he turned upon me and was violently abusive. His lan- guage was vulgar and even filthy. He attempted to strike me and I defended myself. I was, in fact, a good deal alarmed, for he was, a8 you know, much bigger and heavier than I, and |he was in a frenzy of rage. To my surprise, I may say my relief, I was able to resist him. I pushed him off. really, you know, it seemed quite easy —and’ the hand-rail behind him gave jway and he fell into the water. As jhe fell he called out, ‘You scoundrel, you have murdered me! I can only suppose he was not responsible for his actions.” “Much obliged.” said Lomas. “I'm afraid you've had a distressing time. “It has been a remarkable expe- rience,” said Sandford. “May T ask if there is any reason why I should not return to town?” “No, no.” Lomas looked at him queerly. “You have an uncommon cool head. They'll want your evidence at the inquest, of course. But it's fair to say I quite accept your story." “I am obliged to you,” said Sand- ford, in a tone of surprise, as if he could not conceive that any one should not. “I_am told there is a train at 3:35. Good afternoon.’ “One moment. One moment,” said Reggie. “Do you know of any reason in the world Kimball had to hate you?’ sald Sandford, in offended dignity. “Our relations were short and wholly official. I conceive that he had no reason to complain of my services.” “And yet he meant to murder you or have you hanged for his murder.” “If he d@id, I can only suppose that he was out of his mind.” “was he out of his mind when he worked the Coal Ramp_ to ruin you? “Dear me,” said Sandford, “do you really suggest, sir, that Mr. Kimball ‘was ble for that scandalous plece of finance?” “Who else?” “But really—you startle me. That is to say, as a minister he betrayed the secrets of the department? The poor fellow must have been mad,” sajd Sandford, with grave sympathy. “Yes, yes. But why was he mad? ‘Why did he hate you? My dear chap, do search your memory. Can you think of any sort of connection be- tween Kimball and you?” “I never heard of him till he be- came prominent in the house. I never saw him till he came into the office. Our relations_were always perfectly correct. No, I can only suppose that he was insane. Is it any use to try to discover reasons for the antipa- thies of madness? I have not studied the subject, but it seems obvious that they must be irrational. I am sorry I cannot help your investigations. 1 h&llsvtnl better catch my train. fellow. Reggie. He's so'damned honest,” =aid * * k¥ HBEGAD. he don’'t know Low near he was to dead,” said Lomas. Did you ever hear anything less plausible than that yarn of his? If we didn't know it was true we wouldn’t believe a word of it. Good God, suppose Hall hadn’t been down there watching! We should have had the outside facts. Sandford, who had been accused and suspended by Kim- ball, suddenly comes down to Kim- ball's house, meets him, quarrels with him and throws him into the lake. “And the men working in the park a little way off just saw the struggle, just heard Kimball call out that he was murdered,” said Reggle. "Don’t forget the men. They're a most in- teresting touch. He always thought of everything, did Mr. Kimball. He had them there, just the right dis- tance for the evidence he wanted. I don' know if you see the full sig- nificance of those men- working in the park.” Lomas sat down. *“I don't mind owning 1 thought they were accl- denta “My dear cha Oh, my dear chap, there was very little accidental in the vicinity of the late Kimball They were there to give evidence that would hang Sandford. And that proves Kimball didn't mean to throw Sandford into the lake. He wanted to be thrown in, he wanted to be }(il)ed and get Sandford hanged for 1 suppose 80.” Lomas agreed. “It's a case that's happened before. And you couldn’t always say the creatures that planned it were mad.” “Not legally mad. Not medically mad. Quite a lot of people would be ready to die if they could get their enemies killed by their death. Quly they don’t see their way. But he was an able fellow. the late Kimball.” “Able!” echoed Lomas. “I should say so. If our men hadn’t been here. Sandford would have been as good as hanged. Nobody could have be- lieved his story. Why did he come lucky. I didn't think vyowd be like this.” I expected an old man with glasses and- “This" sald Reggie maliciously— “this is the Chief of the Criminal vestigaton Department Mr. Lomas Lomas let hs eyeglass fall. 1 shall go on being young as long as Miss Amber is acting.” “May 1 sit down?" Her golden eyes sent a glance at Reggie. “I am Jane Brown, vou know. Amber—of course I had to have another name for the stage— Amber because of my hair.” She touched it. “And your eyes,” said Reggie. ‘Never mind,” said she, with an- other glance, but the gayety had gone out of them. “My father was a | doctor in Liverpool. He is worth twenty thousand of me, and he never made “enough to live on. A poor, middle-class practice, the work wore him out by the time he was fifty, and now he's an invalid in Devonshire. | He can’'t walk upstairs even—heart. you know. Well, he was the doctor the Kimball family went to. Old Mr. Kimball was a clerk, and the =on, the man who was drowned the other day. began like that, too. The old people died about the time young Mr. Kimball and his sister grew up. She kept house for her brother, He began as a broker and got on. In a way— &1y father always says that—in a way he was devoted to her. Nothing he could pay for was too good for her. But he made awful demands on her. She mustn’t have any interests of her own. She mustn't make any friends. Like some men are with their wives, you know. Horrible, isn't it? ‘Common forms of selfishness. Pass- ing Into mania. Not only male. You know. Some mothers are like tha “I also [but if it couid set anythi am young enough 10 go to the theater. | do anybody any & She turned upon Reggie. | Amber,” and rang tea said Regzie 1 always woman's _stors I don’t know w no, I'm not a h, no, Gon't! that poor miserably sad. wanted it—no, W, it seems some- better. It wouldn't cru st the gods themselves have no power,” Reggie said. We can’t help her, poor soul. 1 dare say [it's something to her to know 1 her son is safe and making £ood pite of all the deviltry “Something to her—of cour: i said Miss Amber, and looked divic “You won't mind my saying pic ssionally that you have been very eful, Miss Amber” said Lom You have cleared up what was a v tiresome my; 1 was being both- ered. That erious disturbance of the machinery of empire.” ile sui- ceeded, as he desired. in setting the conversation to a lighter tune. [Il« made Miss Amber's eves again merty He did not prevent Ileggie from louk- ing at her. “You must promise me another opportunity to thank you,” i said, us she was Eoing. “Dear me, 1 thought you had becu doing nothing else,” said she demure- ly, and looked at the table and mide a face. “Oh, Mr. Fortune, what, w a tea! I Jeave all my reputation e hind me. Men hate 10 sec women eat don’t they? But do men always mai: tea like this?” “I've a simple mind. ple._life. She looked at him fairly. “You said imple. Do vou know how 1 feel? 1 !feel as if 1 n't a secret left all u own,” and she swept away. He wa a long time gone letting her out. “And that's that,” Reggie said when he came back. “Reall how to make it usejess, I live the sim- Lamos was dim belind “Yes, I know they are. worse with men and their “The wife can't grow up. dren can,” Reggie agreed. “It is exactly that,” said she eager- 1% “You understand. Oh, well, Ellen Kimball fell in love. He was just an ordinary sort of man, a clerk of some here? There could be no evidence of Kimball's telephone call. Wkat did Sandford come for? Kimball put him under a cloud, he was furious. he meant murder and did it. The jury wouldn't leave the box. “That's right, sir.” said Supt. Bell. ‘It it wasn't for Mr. Fortune he'd be down and out “How do you mean?” Reggie seem- ed to come back from other thoughts. "Oh, because I told you to have Kim- ball watched. But why did he hate Sandford? We den't know anything Well, well. For God's sake let's have some food! There was a modest pub in the village. I saw it when you let off your futile scream at the trac- tion engine. Let's go. I don't seem to_want to eat Kimball's grub. Two or three days after Lomas re- celved an invitation to lunch in Wim- pole street. “I owe you on Reggie wrote. “{ owe mymelf one. I want to for- get the high tea of Alwynstow. Let's forget all about crime.” They did. For an hour and a half. At the end of which Lomas said dreamily. “I meant to say something when I came. What was it? T be- lieve you have talked of everything elsa in creation. Ah yes, the Kim- ball case! Well, T thiak we have combed it all out.” “Have you, though? up. = “Yes, we've been dealing with a stcckholder or two. We hinted that there might be developments about a certain murder case. And two of them began to talk. We've got Rand- son's past hn'"()l’l, lhnat " Reggle said, uite ob- vious, wasn't {t? Kimball meant to use this coal scheme to ruin Sanford. He sent Mason, who had probably been his go-between in other financial things, to give the brokers the tip. It was also Rand-Mason who paid the money into Sandford’s account. Re- member the stout man in glasses. Then probably he struck for better pay or they had a row. Anyway, he threatened to give the show away. Kimball couldn’t trust him any more. Daren't trust him. So he wiped Rand- Mason out. Is that right, sir?” “I'm not omniscient myself. But certainly Rand-Mason was the man who put the brokers on to it. There is not much doubt he went to Sand- £ rd’s bank. By the way, Kimball had several big sticks. His valet says he liked weight.” “I dare sa Had Kimball any pers?” “Not a line that throws light on this. I'd like to hear why Kimball tried this murder plan last instead of first?” T don’t know that the thing really matters. Who was Kimball? Who is Sandford? What he that Kimball couldn’t bear him?” “I wonder if Jane Brown knows.” He handed Lomas a letter. “Dear Sir: Your advertisement for information about Mrs. Ellen Edith Sandford, I have some which is at your service if you can satisfy me why you want it. Yours truly. “JANE BROWN.” “I should say Jane is a character,’ said Lom: “Yes, she allured me. I told her who I was and she said she’'d come to tea.” She kept her appointment. Reggie found himself facing a large young woman. In her construction nature had been very happy. She was phy- sically in the grand style, but she had a merry eye, and her clothes were not only charming, but of a sophisti- cated elegance. Reggle, there is no doubt, stared at her for a moment and a half. *Miss—Jane—Brown,” he said slowly. “I haven’t brought my godfathers and godmothers, Mr. Fortune,” she smiled. “But I am Jane Brown, real- ly. I always felt I couldn’t live up to tt. T see you know me.” “If seeing were knowing, I should know Miss Joan Amber very well. It's delightful to be able to thank her for the real Rosalind—all the Rosa- lind there i8.” She made him & curtesy. ‘T'm Reggie sat sort—Sandford was his name. Horace Kimball was furious. My father says Sandford was nothing in particular. There was no special reason why she should mar: him or wh she ldn’t. He was inrignificant. our father understood men, Miss Amber.” Indeed he does. Of course, Horace Kimball did the absurd thing. said she mustn't marry, abused Sandford, and eo on, and, of course that made her marry, Unfortunately—this rcal- 11y seems to be the only thing against her—unfortunately she was married in a sly, secret sort of way. She simply slunk out of his house and left him to find out. 1 suppose he had terrified her, poor thing_ or his bully- ing made her sullen,” said Miss Am ber. ‘Her brother was furious. My father says that he never saw such a strange case of a man holding down a passionate rage. He thought at one time that Horace Kimball would have gone mad. The thing seemed like an obsession. Doesn’t it seem paltry? A man wild with temper becaus lous of his sister marryi “Most jealousy is paltr; shrugged. “Jealous of his sister marrying.” Reggie repeated. “Common human emotion. mothers hating their sons’ wives, Miss Amber. Still, men do their bit. Fathers proverbially object to daugh- ters marrying. Brothers—well, there's quite a lot of folklore about brothers killing their ' sisters’ lovers. Yes, common human emotion, * ¥ * X «\\/ELL." Miss Amber continued. “it’s fair to say Horace Kimball seemed to get over the worst of his. He just lost himself in his business, my father says. He wouldn't see his sister again, not even when her child was born (it was a boy). He simply swept her out of his lite. Even when Sandford got into trouble he wouldn't hear of helping her. My father quar- reled with him over that. He said to my father, ‘She's made her bed, and they can all die in it’ I call that simply devilish.” “Yes, I believe in the devil, too.” sald Reggle. “Devilish! You're exactly right, Miss Amber. Sandford got into trouble, did he? What was that? "It was some scandal about his business. A breach of trust in some way. His employers didn't prosecute but they dismissed him in disgrace. My father doesn’t remember the de- tails. It was giving away some busi- ness secrets.” Reggie looked at Lomas, “That's very Interesting,” he said. “Interesting! Poor people, it was misery for them. Sandford was ruin- ed. My father says he never really tried to make a fresh start. He just died because he didn’t want to go on living. And his wife broke her heart over it. She seemed like a woman frightened out of her senses, my father says. She got it into her head that it was all her brother's fault that he had planned the whole thing: It was absurd, of course, but can you wonder?” i “T don’t wonder.” said Reggie. “She was deadly afraid of her brother. She made up her mind that he would be the death of her baby, too. So she ran away from Liverpool and hid in a little village in north Wales, Llanfairfechan, and nobody knew where she had gone. She had a little money of her own, and her hus- band had been well insured. She had just enough, and she lived quite alone in a cottage off the road to the moun- tains, and there she died. My father says her son did rather well. He got scholarships to Oxford, and my father fancies he went into the clvil service, but_he lost sight of him after the mother died ™ “T'm infinftely obliged to you, Miss Commonest in the form or] cigar smoke. Reggie it hate, manfa. He broke the man the girl married. Curious that aiffair. wasn't it? Even the great crimina he runs in a groove, he heeps to one kind of crime. The same dodge for the son that he used for the father ‘Then either he lost track of the mother or he preferred to hurt her thro the son. He w; an epicure in s little pleasures. The son came alon I dare say Kimball took that de - ment because the son was in it. then he was ready to smash e thing for the sake of his hate lage his own career, do a filthy gnur- der, die himself, if he could tortur: his sister's child. The devil 1» with power, Loma: 1 fancy you annoy him a little, my dear Fortune. But how can you - lieve in the devil? You have just seen her.” | Regzle isn't she?” think you mizht theory. When is it to be “Lomas, old thing, you're not only bland, you're obvious. Which is much worse. (Copyright, The “Legal Day.” ‘ D\\"’ is a word with many mean- ings. Generally it is understood as time of light. the time between dawn and dark, the time between one night and the next. Legally it is tromlors midnight to the next. There is a siderial day or star day of twenty-three hours and fifty-six min- utes, a solar day or sun day of twenty-four hours, and u lTunar da or noon day of twenty-four hours and fifty minutes. The civil day from midnight to midnight. or twenty-four hours, is our fuil day and we count it as beginning at midnight because the Romans, who gave us the calenda we use, so counted it. The Egyptia also counted the day as beginning at midnight. while the Je 1 the Athhnians counted the d ning at sunset and the Ba Chaldeans, Assyrians and Hindus, other peoples of remote times. couni- ed sunrise as the beginning of u day. A “day” in the work sense used i mean from “sun to sun.” that is from sunrise to sunset shorter and varies with and locality. A hotel day is from the time one registers till twenty-four hours after. The length of a day, meaning the time of light, differs with the distance north or south of tha equator. At the equator the day and night are of equal duration. North of the equator the days lengthen from midwinter to midsummer, and south of the equator they lengthen from midsummer to midwinter. At the poles the day and night are six months long, and when it is day at the north pole it is night at the south pole. Cities that we know on our side of the equator have some very long days and short nights in summer and the contrary in winter; for example, at Petrograd the longest day is nine- teen hours and the shortest five. At Wardbury, Norway, the longest day lasts from May to July and at Spitzbergen, one day may be three and one-half months long. his pipe. Jealousy. miled. a woman, act on that P. Dutton & Compan Yarmouth Rows. THB quaint old seaport town of Yarmouth, on the eastern coast of England, contains some extremely narrow streets, or “rows” as they call them there. The rows aro not very well adapted to trafiic in the American sense, since 115 of thess narrow passages, making a length of over seven miles in all. make up tha whole number of the to: ‘s streets. One of these rows, known as “Kitty ‘Witches Row perhaps the narrow est built-up sireet anywhere. Its greatest width is fifty-six inches. Its entrance is considerably narrower. Twenty-nine inches from wall to wall is the measurement given for part. A stout person would, it seems. experience some inconvenience in try- ing to pass through. this -