Evening Star Newspaper, August 23, 1925, Page 70

2 THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. AUGUST 2 1925— PAR'T Within a Hair's Breadth of Death on a Snow-Covered Mountain Western Climber, After Struggle to Summit, Finds That Descent Is Slqw, Laborious, and Perilous in the Extreme. Scaling a mountain in the face of a gale which threatened to hurl him and his father bodily from a precipice, and helping to save the life of an unconscious youns wom an by means of a “human tobog &an on Mount Adams, Wash,, were described last week by C. I Ruxk, noted western mountaineer Mr. Rusk’s articles, of which the following is the second. are of spe. cial interest now because the expe- dition to Mount Logan this Sum mer has focused public attention upon the hazards and thrills of mountain climbing. By C. E. RUSK. OUNT BAKER, the snowclad mountain. stands far north in the State of Washington and overlooks the international boundary Kulshan, the Great White Watcher, he Indlans called it: and for ages thelr generations, in awe, had seen it watching over the gateway to the Western Ocean. with its smoky ban- ner waving across leagues of un tracked forest One season. while there were still but six recorded ascents of Kulshan, I heard of some people who planned to climb it and entered into spondence with them. At first seemed there would be a party only one finally came—George Cantwell—to join us. When st length we had started, and entered upon the climb itself, a pull up the last lava ridze on the east side a route that has probably since never been followed by uny other climbers—brought us well on to the flank of the mountain. but into a_mo sition that vather appalled us. The ridge ended under a jumbled icefall so seamed and broken by hummocks and chasms and knifelike edges that it looked impossible for any human being to creep up its jagged surface. But we must go over it or abandon the climb. We were out of water, and Cantwell crept down over the rocks directly beneath an overhanging wall of lce and there filled the canteen We looked with misgiving at the ice fall above. But suddenly we caught inspiration to dare its dangers Glancing upward, we saw large vol umes of smoke rolling from hetween the two peaks. The knowledge was forced home to us that we stood upon an active volcano, and we felt that we must risk much to look upon the crater from which that black cloud rolled. It now became a ing back and forth in a maze of ice crevasses, and of crawling up over hard, slippery protuberances. The rope was here of little benefit, as the crevasses were so close together that it was seldom possible to bring it into play. We had a few narrow escapes from slipping in spite of the extreme care we used. A half or thre-quar tere of an hour was sufficient for us to overcome the icefall. It*merged into & great, crevassed snowslope which led up to the eastern cliffs directly beneath the summit The whole east fac from the snowline to the top is seamed and broken by big icefalls and crevasses that a view of it from an eminence a few miles away gives it the appearance of an immense white ruffied skirt. mighty but G problem of work of Mount Baker * ok ok % NSTEAD of lce we now had snow to contend with. The cracks were not so numerous nor o close together but they were immeasurably bigger, and we were confronted by the danger of the blind crevasse. Some of the chasms were clear-cut and well de. fined: but others were choked at surface by masses of rotten snow, while some were completely hidden by treacherous white coverings For hours our course was a zigzag one. Back and forth we went, cr ing now a rent on a precarfous snow bridge: working now clear around the end of one; occaslonally stepping or jumping a narrow one: but eaining ever slowly in altitude The general slope of the was growing exceedingly steep. By the time we had reached the foot of the cliffs we had to use the utmost care to maintain a footing. We knew that It was only a few hundred feet now to the summit; but we looked at the columnar crags with considerable apprehension. A chimney just above us offered the best prospect of scaling them. To reach this we had to scale a steep, rocky slope slightly coated with ice. It was slippery work and we made judicious use of the rope. When we Rot to the foot of the chimney we found our progress blocked by an overhanging bu of rock about breast-high. Ordinarily this would have been no obstacle, for [ could easily have boosted Cantwell up it hut with such footing as could he secured on that treacherous incline such an attempt was not e thought of. Cantwell found slightly to the right 10 a_position about level with the top of the overhang. and but for the ab sence of one foothold he could easil- swing himselfaround. I supplied the deficiency. Hugging close to the rock, mountain I that by going he could climb I turned “HUGGING CLOSE TO THE ROCK, I TURNED MY RIGHT SHOULDER. CANT- WELL STEPPED ON IT WITH HIS LEFT FOOT . AND SWUNG INTO THE CHIMNEY. corre- | it | the | right shoulder, Cantwell stepped lightly on it with his left foot, and | swung into the chimney. When he had firmly anchored it was | but the work of a few moments for me to ascend with the aid of the rope, and we were ready for the next stage. | was a short but exhausting climb up the chimney. We had to be care-| fil to avold slipping and dislodging | loose stones. We came out on to the | southern slope of the summit dome. | with but a short climb farther to bring s to the top. For several hours the smoke from the ter had been hidden from us hv | the south shoulder of the main peak Rut 2s we emerged from the chimney | there burst upon our mEnt the most| | thrillingly weird spectacle 1 had ever seen In the bowllike depression immedi ately between the two peaks was a great orifice in the snow. It was per- | haps 50 feet across, although the west. | ern side was partly blocked with snow. so that the opening had somewhat the shape of a half-moon. At a distance | of possibly 200 feet a semi-circular | crevasse swept halfway around it | From the unknown depths of this | abyss the black smoke rolled. Tt| drifted away, shifting with the wind. | until it was finally dissipated in the rarefied air. The wild, unearthly lone liness of the scene impressed us pro- foundiy, for its counterpart perhaps does not exist on earth **xx 3 | getting late, and could not linger long 10 gaze upon | this awe-inspiring piace, nor could we take the time for a closer investiga tion. We turned summitward once me We skirted the upper fringe of | the cliffs, partly upon frozen gravel partiy on crystallized snow. both of which were steep and slippery. We | soon topped the highest point of the | cliffs. To the west rose the final dome of snow. A sharp climb brought | Cantwell, who was in the lead. to a| cornice shoulder high. Over this he | peered | “What can vou see”" 1 asked | Nothing!" answered he. 1 came up to him and gave him a He drew me up with the rope We were on the level snow plateau of Kulshan's great sumn It had taken us 11 tremendous hours from our camp at timber line Our climb of Kulshan seems to have been the seventh recorded ascent Since then many others have climbed it. Some noted mount ing clubs have conquered it 1 several years it was the object of the annual Mount Baker marathon. an event wherein hardy climbers competed for a prize in being the first to make the irip from the city of Bellingham to the summit of the mountain and back again Cantwell got 4 picture of the crater which was probably the last ever taken of it in activity, and was an excellent one. although. sirange to say, the great rolls of black smoke scarcely showed on the prints. But a fine pho. tograph taken from the summit xome time iater by F. H. Kiser gives no sign her of orifice in the snow or smoke An apparently firm field of snow cov. ered the great mysterious hole we «aw, and the only remaining traces of #sion in the snow of the circular cre- The weird crater was seeming my UT it was we | hoost I dead If earth ever approaches Heaven in its physical aspects it must do =o through the medium of a great moun- tain. To one standing upon the shore of that lordly Western river, the Colum- bia, and looking up the Hood Rive valley, far beyond the streteh of happy homeiands and across the peaceful folds of evergreen hills, there comes a vizion of sublime purity, beauty and grandeur in perfect blandisg—a glory | scemingly apart from earth, distant jand yet near, celestinl majesty su- I preme, white, calm and lone, evanes- cent vet substantial gift of God to man—the ethereal mountain. My experiences on Mount Hood in clude one of the most thrilling I have | to record * o & ok LTHOUGH Mount Hood had come down to me through the long vista of vears, together with that other sublime mountain, Adams, the oppor- tunity to visit Oregon’s premier peak was never presented to me until after Ih said my last farewell to the more nertherly glant In August, 1922, 1 turned toward its glittering spire to | add it to my list of ice kings A sharp pull brought me well up on to the spur. The terrifically precipi- tous tower of the mountain seemed al most to lean over me, so near at hand it was. Surely no man could hope alone to climb that frightful snow slope and the cliffs beyvond! From summit vidge to amphitheater of Eliot Glacter it looked to be an almost per. pendicular drop. Scarcely less for- bidding were the snowfields and crags | by which I must ascend. The crevasses cut straight across the face of the mountain, and I had to | work around them on the left. Such climbing produced resuits in the way of attaining altitude. It was not a great distance from the big crevasse to the first of the cliff ridges |leading to the summit. It was a re. | lief to set foot on rocks again and to | 100k back at the near ice precipice I | | sible for a man to work his way un- | my weight to | met | of the Kthereal Mountain had just come up and to wonder how T had done it. I soon found the end of one of the long ropes that are stretched from the summit 16 the lower end of the cliffs to ald climbers Suddenly T heard a hail from above Looking up. I saw a man standing on a rock slightly to my right How far am 1 from the called “Only about three hundred feet “What time is it? “Eleven o'clock “EIl be up by “Yes he repli T was 1 narrow bone. by h 1 top?” bon’"" cried 1 ou'll be up in hailf an honr,’ i W in 20 minutes was now on the summit-a long regular. gravel-covered back King off terribly steep on the but frightfully on the north. 1 saw at a short distance the United States Service's fire Tookout station, a replica of the one on Mount Adams, lofty watch tower of Uncle Sam's wooded domains, 11,22 feet above the sea. It was the loc ont who had greeted me I now had a chance to form an ir pression of the terrifving grandeur of | the north side of Mount Hood. Break ing squarely off, the stope drops in | one almost perpendicular sweep to the floor of Eliot Glacter. thousands of feet below. Fascinating as is this awful precipice, one can scarcely look over it for the first time without the | hair rising o _hix head and- cold shivers running pver his body. One step from the firm surface of the top would hurl a pereon down this desperate incline, unable to stop until he had plunged, a shapeless mass. into the maw of the glacler. Although so terrible and forbldding when close at hand, this imposing spectacle when seen from the Hood River Valley, or distant points, blends into the sym al beautv and esthetie charm For [ DECIDED it was time to trust my fate once more to the treachery of the northern slope. 1 dropped rapidly down along the ropex. The rocks gave me little trou ble. 1 paused now and then to study the picturesque volcanic cliffs north of my route and to note the stern menace of the terrible slope. Far be low the Eliot Glacier spread like a great white map, its corrugated sur- face beaming brightly in the half light until lost in its distant terminal moraines in the edge of the primal forest. From my craggy height the floor of the vast ice field looked almost level, although I knew it to have a steep slope toward the foothills. Feathery clouds were hanging low above the frozen cataract. All tgo soon I came to the end of the largest rope. I now realize to the full the seriousnexs of my situation. There had been but little softening of the snow during the day. What was worse, it was now beginning to harden again. A chilly little breeze was _blowing, and, =o close that I could almost touch it, a cloud was drifting across the face of the moun- tain. Getting the best grip possible upon my nerves, I left the last protecting point of rock, and stepped out on to the icy snow. It seemed hardly pos- aided down that frightful had but one ally to heip battle with the cruel my Swiss ice ax. T prove its life-saving value Although I moved so slowly—for T had to test en?-h foothold ere I trusted | t, and had frequently to | reach down and cut steps below me— | 1 was soon a long way from the rocks and upward retreat was cut off by the ice-snow above. I had carefully ana- lyzed my chances in case of accident The big crevasse was directly below | me, vet T did not reckon it as a| seérious factor. In the event of an unchecked slide I | should probably shoot across it as though it were not there. If such a | thing «hould happen, the contour of | the mountain would undoubtedly urge | me toward Eliot Glacier and I should | be hurled over its hordering precipice on to the jagged ice field 1 realized that if 1 once lost my foot- steep. I/ me in my | This was | it was to| | senting my ing T must stop myself within a short distance, for a man sliding over that > “IT WAS NOW OR NEVER with speed accele rating at every vard, would soon be unconscious or nearly = ax 1o be absolutely helpless, and gravity would then work its will with him un hindered, bearing him down. down down, a broken and senxeless mass to the depth of the unfeeling glacie True, 1 knew hundreds, In the past had glissaded hilariously down this slope in happy security: but that was when the snow was soft and safe and friendly. On this day it was hard, | and no man could make that slide and live to tell the tale. Only those who | have keen a great snow slope in good and in bad conditions can know the terrible difference There had been a fresh fall of snow a short time before. This had nearly all melted from the slope. However tehes of ft still lav in crusty, white sheete. an inch or twe thick, in the de pressions of the dark, hard, older | &now. | found that by stepping on to this new snow I could get a better footing 1 began tn seek out these white patches, working from one to another er the ridges of jcy snow. I had almosi come to believe that my troubles were over, when, without warning, a sheet on which I was standing started to siide with me. I | jabbed the point of my ice ax down hard into the old snow heneath and succeeded in getting a firm enough hold to keep from going. too. I saw that the new snow was unreliabie So T kept away from the white patches whenever possible; but they continued occasionally to start, some- times at the touch of my ax, some- times for no apparent cause, They went slithering down the mountain with an ominous grating sound. My progress was terribly slow. I began to fear I should never get down - or should get down all too quickly. And then it happened *xn rough, hard snow I spite of all my precautions, my feet xuddeniy shot from under me I started on a lightning-like dexcent toward the lower regions of the moun tain, gaining speed ax I went, my body bumping over the icy protuber. ances of the snow. The supreme mo- ment of my mountaineering career was at hand. But my a4 was working clearly and rapidly—was under no illusions as to what I wasx up against. 1 instantly realized that something must be done jmmediately. And nobody ‘Was there to do it but myself. 1 had started on my back, thus pre- broadest possible =liding surface to the pitiless snow and pre. venting effective use of my arm. For- tunately, 1 still retained my hold upon my ice ax. I turned quickl: upon my left side. Grasping the han. die of the ax near the middle with both hands, I brought the point hard down into the snow. My momentum tore the steel tip from its shallow hold, and T shot on unchecked. It was now or never. I knew that my life hung by seconds. Another minute would be too late. Everv foot of flight was adding to my sneed. Mustering my last available ounce of strength, I deliberately poised the axe and again thrust the point straight down into the &now.. With a thrill T felt the steel pene. trate, strain and hold. With a des- perate grasp upon the slender pole, T shot on downward the length of my arms, and lay sprawling, while my feet sought vainly for a niche upon the mountainside. Fearing the ax might still give way. I kicked with my heels untll ‘T was sure I had worked them into the fcy surface enough that 1 might ven- ture to rise. I cautiously and slowly worked my way up on to my feet and stood leaning on the ice-axe, gasping for breath. ok ox K T was minutes before my strength | came back to me. Looking down | the mountainside, I saw far below, my heavy cap, on edge like a hoop, rolling with terrific speed. bounding | from point to point of the uneven! show, flving llke a thing of life to escape the dangers of that awful slope. For 500 feet or so it went, Wwith | undiminished rapidity, toward Newton Clark Glacier, and then it apparently | would have | precious atones or magnificently em- | some dead hundreds of t 1 r i « 11 I KNEW THAT MY LIFE HUNG BY SEC. ONDS stopped in one of the depressions in f the snow, for T could no more Then 1 had lelsure to look back see how far I had come. My track Ita was white and visible, for ed off the dirty surface of the snow. doubtedly worst stretch of the siope; but th wak danger enough ahead no more careful than I had been, and | me that day I A" with night Victor wanted a_good ‘ il | taint I had scrap- had =lid about fifty feet. My involuntary descent taken me over had the un- very 4 1 could be ‘ooper Spur was still a long way off. But there were no more accidents for T got safely by the end From there on although still bad i t the big was not crevasse, %0 bad | enough herenfter T made more rapid prog ess down the slope. It was with nfinite relief that 1 ally stepped ipon the friendly, dependable rocks of yoper Spur. The descent from the ummit to this point had taken me onger than the ascent x ok K * “TER my earlier climb of Mount Adamk, It was my desire again to cale the eastern face of the mountain the main object of spending a alone at the highest point on Ridge that 1 could reach. 1 point of observation rom which to study the upper part of Rusk Glazier and the Castle. Accordingly. I set out one Fall with 9,000 feet narrow and have heen At an elevation of over we found the ridze shattered that it would dangerous in the extreme to attempt | the great decided | dark myster further progress. Here 1 should be my bivonc: while Green | was equally certain ha would return to the lower camp. 1 called this lofty perch “Camp of the Stars About 3 o'clock shadows hegan to gather great precipice, and the snow rock spires stood out in remarkable | relief on the skyline. The sun was almost directly over the mountain Its rays fell in queer bars through the interstices of the cliffs. roar of distant streams droning through the air peace seemed to brood over the big peak, broken occaslonally by the far wonderful somber around the { | away crash of an avalanche ! | The solitude was intense. | country looked ghostly and unreal | through the dense, smoky haze, and | the pinnacles of Great Rocks could |-n‘ | but faintly seen. But for the stream roar it would have been oppressively still. At two minutes after 5 the sun dropped behind the great snow wall above me. The dark shadow of noon journey eastward across | country. The cliffs were magnificent | |in the ‘glowing twilight. | And then the marvelous night came on i Profound darkness closed rapidly | | around the mountain. Soon looking downward was like looking into an inky veoid. Green's campfire shone Jike great Jower star, while overhead the natural stars came out in briliiant mul titudes, with Polaris in the north and the evening sta directly over the mountain dome, Constellation upon constellation hiazed like a diamond set ting in the crown of night A myriad master-orbs, each with its mighty retinue of attendant satellites, whirled | their ceaseless flight acroms the dome jof Heaven Cumbering earth-smoke had no place in the firmament above. The ne of the mountain were subdued in the solemnity of the fath omless night. The roar of the l’y("{n(‘ streams came now but faintly, as if to intensify the stillness. Now and then came a sharp crack from a tortured glacier, and occasionally the dull chug of an icearea setthng more firmly in its uneven bed. At times could he heard the clatter of rocks that broke | from their fetters and plunged into ¥ Y | wall ab and | to leys were filled depths of osion was doing The solitude was oppressive. cliffs wrapped work Slin he Tor were A wonderf red:ax bloo At 11 o'clock hange. The half-moon lenden and dead, over fthe black of It gradually got srighter as it reached the clearer sk ve. Landmarks far below began ake on dim shapes I could see that the with smoke nyors and A heavier the white arms reaching out Mke gre octopus he | points. All through the balance of the came | night A great | glowed and The lower | Finally the sum appeare: completely | and | unreal . 4 ter. | the glow Mount Adarns had started on ita atter | e, £0% 00 L5 G150 | tion glittering tentacles from the higher and the glacter mwonlight seemn: the cliffs with the mellow thelr savage grandeur »ftened and subdued. At last a red glow tinged the Fast d, like a . T all through began to show thre the canyons and val obscured, the higher ¥ Iving long lines ir contrast was A Strange world Iticolored cliffs above caugh of the wun and sprang whields flashe morning greetings: a m dianwonds sparkied « icepoints, and m ing red world bel fetters rising its in It ridges darker The m back their the awakening | marvelous night wasl end; (Copyright. 1925 The Chineset Way. OND-HAND newspapers A have ge sale na newshe who sel back the resells duced peated from v the paper has besn worrs jce. A The Largest Rosary. Wha rosary Is belleved 1o ha the the world has heen pre Pi Merano n sented to Pope s expe wood carver of The feet fine in eirc age ed woody is lian Detective Clears Mystery Of Jewel Robbery at the Vatican BY BEATRICE BASKERVILI ROME. VERYRODY who story will admit it best detective mtory of |h" vear. And the fact that it is not fietion, but plain fact, only to its quality. - Conan Doyle loved to write it. Per- haps he hax never realized how huge ix the treasure houred within the pre- cincts of the Pope's tiny territory Imagine cupboards and cupboards, over a dozen of them, filled with gold and silver vessels for the decoration of the altars at St. Peter’s, Rome. Imagine other cupboards and cup- boards filled with smaller jewels, gold crosses inset with diamonds, rubies, amethysts, emeralds, sapphires, pearis, turquoises: imagine gold statues three feet high: priests’ veatments of richest gold_and silver cloth and of ancient hand-woven brocade sewn with August reads to be the g | this | adds broidered by the pious hands of nuns, vears ago. Imagine this treasure, including the hieratic sapphire ring, jeweled rosa- ries, pectoral crosses: historical relics | such as the cross of the first Christian Roman Emperor, Constantine the Greet: the solid gold and bejeweled altar service once belonging to the last of the direct line of royal Btuaris, Cardinal Stuart of York: the count- less smaller treasures, too many to mention. Then you have an idea of St. Peter's treasure. It money vaiue has been estimated at something be- tween $7,000,000 and 310,000,000, During the night of July 3 last burglars let themselves down into one of the treasure rooms through a hole in the celling and helped themselves Since the death of the late Pope Bene- dict XV no such consternation has reigned in the papal palaces an when early on the morning of the $th the theft was discovered by one of the caretakers. When Cardinal Merry del Val, arch- priest of St. Peter's, supréme custo. dian of the treasure, hadl partly recov ered from the shock he carsfully went through the whole accumulation. He found that the burglare had carried off the priceless sapphire ring worn by the bronze statue of 8t. Peter on high feasts: that a kolid gold altar service which he himself had dedi- cated to the apostle was gone, but that the famous gold altar service, once the property of Cardinal Stuart of York, last direct survivor of the royal Stuarts, was left. Left, too, ‘were the Emperor Constantine’s cross, Justin's cross, the Dalmatic and the bulk of the other most precious ob- jects. Later on he stated that the Value of the stolen things might be about a million lire—roughly, $50,000. Signor Cadolini, commissioner of the Roman police, now enters. He is the story's Sheriock Holmes. Youny quiet, alert Dr. Marotta, a newcomer in Rome, Is his Dr. Watson. *xx % (CADOLINT thoroughly inspected the Canonica, that wing of 8t Peter's where the treasure was Kept. He found that the celling had been opened by plercing the floor of a room where certain painters—Augusto Mat- tioll and his two sons, with Amerigo Leardi and Dordo Lumario—had been working for some weeks past. Luma- rio had actually been sleeping in the room where the hole was made. For | nearly two vears past workmen have been adding new storles to the Canonica, to house prelates attached to St. Peter's. One of the clergy to whom the treasury is intrusted told | Cadolini he had a few days back, on two separate occasions, noticed plaster had fallen from the ceiling of the room where the theft was perpetrated. He sent a servant to the room over- head and the man returned to say the aforementioned painters were working there. “There is nothing in the room but a big packing case covered with paint pots and brushes,” he added. The case hid the hole, then very near completion; but nelther prelate nor servant suspected this. The plas- ter was swept up and nothing more was sald—at least not just then. Cadolini put the painters under ar- rest, questioned many prelates, serv- ants, sacristans and returned to the central police depot or Questura. Here he sent for Marotta. “‘Seen that man Btella lately?” he asked. - “‘Late last evening. He repeated h! tale of walting for stolen diamonds from Paris, 'and wants me to buy them. But he wants to make sure I have the cash.” Cadolin’s dark eyes glittered. Not being a British &herlock Holmes, he does not wear a mask of indifference to hit Watson-Marotta. “0dd you should have scraped his acquaintance just outside the Canon- fca three weeks back,” he remarked. Marotta satiled. “The same idea struck me,” Cadolinl brought his fist down on the table with & daas. 1 more minutes wera over { table | Marotta’s | Peter's ring whole the stolen treasure was laid the diamonds &h of the pyxes and 1wc quick eyes where a sapphire had once adorned & and holes in other pece { where diamonds shogld have beer | THE TREASURE L.OOT. AS RECOVERED BY THE POLICE DETEC- TIVE MAROTTA. THESE ARTI fadonna! If we prove right!” He looked at his wrist. ‘Eleven o'clock. Banks close at 12 You must have the money to show Stella. How much does he ask “Three hundred will sell for less.” “Better take sand. If we arous thousand. But he four hundred thou his suspicions now we are done for.” He wrote some. thing, handed it to hix adjutant. “Rush this to the bank. And secrec; eh! Not a word, not even to the car- dinals at St. Peter’'s. Not to the Pope himself, supposing he sends for you.™ “Benissimo!” returned the Itallan Watson, and left, plungine down the stairs of the gloomy Questura or STELLA, THE SHOEMAKER, WHO 1S ALLEGED TO HAVE ORGANIZED THE BURGLARY OF ST, PETER'S TREASURE. CLES ARE WORTH ABOUT $50.000. Rome central police_depot five at a time. The British Watson, of course, would never have done such a thing. All through Saturday, Sunday and Monday Cadolini was besieged by car- dinals, prelates, sacristans, journal- iste, =ociety women, merely inquisitive citizens, for news of the burglars and their loot. But Cadolinl shrugged his shoulders and said, “No _develop- ments.” And many of the beslegers went home with a poor idea of k detective powers. i anything. Giving the burglars to smelt_all that gold and sell i stones. Probably the loot is over the frontier by this time, while the Ques- tura sleeps.” That was Roman opinion. * % %% I Monday evening the prelates of St. Peter’s had become as pessi- mistic as the most skeptical cafe haunter in the Iiternal City. They {blamed Cadolini, his satellites, the ministry of interior, everybody but Marotta. And he was spared for the simple reason that the critics and ama. teur sleuths ignored his existence. Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Marotta hardly left the man Stella for a min- ute. He had shown him the 400,000 lire notes; also a false passport, vised for any country, =0 he could get off: Wwith the Paris diamonds, the moment they arrived. At last, on Monday at midnight, Stella, who keeps a shoe store in the Via Flavia, told Marotta he would be at his shop Wwithin half an hour and hand over the goods. «“Don't forget fo bring all money," he warned him. “Of course mot. 1 must take the midnight train.” Wondering whether the diamonds really came from Paris, or from the Vatican treasury, Marotta took the fastest car at the Questura, and, by 10, knocked at the closed shutters of the shoe shop. After verifying his visitor's identity, Stelia let him in. He was for haying a drink first. But Marotta, who knew Cadolini was to follow in 10 minutes, insisted on see- ing the loot at once, and began count- ing out his money. Stella. led him into @ amall room, cloged the door, turned on the light, and. pointed to a couple of bulgy grips, “‘Be_quick,” whispered Marotta, fe- verish with excitement and suspense. And e flourished the notes above his Ja a trice Stella began taking the loot from the grips. Before many time the | | street. | about “Where 2 manded “T'm_not for that Tty ose stones? i zive you are with the them « can ma over the way But if yvou want a price.” And they beg: in a fever lest Cadolini should be late While they were appraising the boot Marotta objecting that was risky to take out such things melted, and Stella_assuring him ziani would melt them down ima co ple of hours, there was a knockeat the shop shutters. There he is,” to open. But it was Cadolini with Marotta whipped his 1 Stella uttered a shout terror tried to run out at the hack. Marc ta's revoiver stopped him a se ond the handcuffs were round the by glar's wrists, and he, with his Was rushed off to the Questur: other police, acting on M: formation, went 1o -arrest He was found; not at his store, bed An all-night to hysterical calm. But Stella_made confession, whereby it had organized the theft painters to carry accessory before seems to have limited his role to tr of melting the vessels and dispos: of the gems that had been taken o before Marotta caught th Some of the diamonds back to the Questura on t morning by a very pale and jeweler who has a store in the \ Condotti. Rome’s smartest shoppins Graziani, he said, had on Monday sold him six diamonds fo $8,000. He often did busines with this man, and cut diamonds him. Onlyson reading of his arres did the terrible truth flash on hin The diathonds belonged to the sacre treasure of St. Peter! And proved, for they exactly fit settings in one of the chalices. Great was the rejoicing at the Vat can when the lost treasure was re turned. The Pope gave the police his apostolic benediction, and commanded a prelate to discreetly but exhaus tively examine all the employes of the Canonica, to find out which of the if any, are responsible for letting t workmen have such a free hand in t Graziani bas takeb them, we agehe. Marc said Stella, and wer his mer out volver In but it reduced Stella left ( a fairly was clear using Grazi lling and thieves rought uesd anxio empt “Just like our police, never find out { bullding. Cadolini has Cardinal Merry de the | Val's promise that the recovered pieces are, and not till the remair have been we will be Jeft as they reset or straightened der of the jewels sought after. “I hope,” he explained, “to get ther all back for you.” “Even St. Peter's sapphire? the cardinal. ‘Even St. Peter's sapphire.” And Rome believes he will askec GRAZIANI, THE JEWELER, WHO SOLD SIX OF THE STOLEN DIAMONDS FOR $8,000