Evening Star Newspaper, May 10, 1931, Page 85

= i been smiling out of pleasure, but his words carried a touch of disguised malice. .“And how’s the little post office game?” he asked. “I don't understand,” the girl said. But the speaker only smiled and moved away. “An ass without ears,” said Tachman. He danced the encore with the girl. “I don't see what they see to stare at,” the girl said at last. “Don’t you?” asked Tachman. “Well, what?” “You.” “Is that so?” “I'm staring at you myself,” he said. It may have been sheer accident that caused Tachman to turn to look toward the door be- fore seating himself after that dance. For the first time that evening he turned his back on the girl while she was looking. When he again faced about, she clutched at his coat lapel. “Handsome, listen!” she began swiftly, under her breath, “Some cat has stuck something on your coat. Pretend not to know. We'll dance to the door, and you slip out and pull it off.” “What kind of a something?” “A 2-cent stamp and a special delivery, right on your right shoulder.” “¥’ll give them to our waiter for a tip,” he said. “I wonder who did it?” As the music started, they rose again to dance, both with heightened color. They edged gently toward the door. But they had started too late. Even as they swung into the rhythm, the music faded out into a wail. Some one sang out: “Dry squad!” Some one nearer the door shouted: “Cops!” Tachman, turning, saw the blue bulk of a policeman ahead; so unexpected was the sight that he stopped irresolutely. “Shed your booze. Handsome, quick?” cried the girl. Tachman felt the girl tugging at the flask in his pocket, caught a flash of silver as it sledded across the floor. Then suddenly his mind resumed control of his actions. “The back door for us!” he said softly. “They haven't a thing on you, Handsome— mot a thing!” He clutched at his pocket. The diamonds still lay there. “Quick!” he repeated, and used his strength $o make passage for her through the crowd. At that point the lights went out. FEW moments later he had led her out of the room into a kind of store house filled with bins and boxes. “Wait here a minute!” he told her. She did not see what he did; the darkness prevented that. Whatever it was, the time required was exceedingly short. She drew two breaths and he was back. “Out the same door and stick out your chin. They haven’t a thing on us.” Front does it. Brains does it. If now he could find the door knob and slip back into the dining room, the police might search him till next week. All they would find was his money and a cloak room check. “And here we are,” he said. Torley awaited his man outside a darkly opened door; but the darkness in the outer room was not complete, so that the two postage stamps stood out from their background like dead leaves on a lawn. “Don't move!” he commanded sharply, thrusting the muzzle of his pistol against the shapely back, “Who are you and what's your game?” asked Tachman. “Police. You're under arrest.” “Fer what?” “For shoving your hand down the wroung pecket in the dark.” “Me” ‘Torley could hear the relief in nis voice. “You're crazy!” “That’s the bird’s bandkershief now, stick- ing out of your coat,” said Torley. “That handkerchief? You're crazy! my handkerchief!” “Show me,” said Tcrley. “It’'s initialed and everything. drawerful like it at my hotel.” “What hotel is that?” asked Torley. “The Green Ballast. My name's Tachman., You can phone and ask them.” “What you're really pulled for is something else,” said Torley. “The lady is excused, but . she can come with you if she wants.” “What did I steal now?” asker Tachman. “Diamonds,” said Torley. “How about it, ladye” “Me?" asked the girl. “Come where?” “To the bureau, where he's going.” “I don't know a thing,” said the girl. me up, Handsome, when you get out.” Trcy were gathered at police detective head- arters—Capt. Thomas Torley, Traffic Officer Masters, the auctioneer Linton, Tachman, and the little spitfire in black, whom Linton had spoken of as giving the name of Reemer. Others cutside included men whom only Torley knew by name, present only Torley knew why. “You may as well come clean,” said the officer. “We know everything you done after you lcft this auction.” “What did I do?” asked Tachman, “A plenty. First, you high-hat a clerk at the door who is all set to @ you a favor. Then you head north past a traffic cop with eyes in his head and make a left turn across the tracks. I can see you myself, with your gray hat on your head and your tan topcoat on your arm, 2 ecents plus 10, and all the janes a-rubbering, you don’t know why. Next you board car No. 346, Route Three, south- bound, Charles Mallory, conductor. After riding three blocks in a back seat you change farther front, and Mallory just ready to do you the same favor. Next you get off at Twenty- second, bub leave your topcoat behind.” “Who says I aid? You?” “Mallory says you did. He’s inside.” “Conductors don’t remember their passen- gers like that,” sald Tachman. “They do if they carry enough postage. You Tachman winced. The police detective con- That's I've got & “Call He clutched at his pocket. The diamonds still lay there. “Quick,” he said softly. “The back door Jor us.” ~Listen,” said Torley. “The thief that steals that necklace leaves a paste double in its place, Where does he get it? From the owner—where else? And how? Breaks a lock. What happens The paste is so good he gets stung like a hick. This is a year ago in De- troit, when the Curlews are visiting there. They don't report the loss—too small. Get the point?” “No, nor nobody elee.” Looking Back on Old Annapolis Continued from Ninth Page to an extent, did the same thing, but then Vir- ginia’s territory was later retroceded. Tm is & certain similarity between the plan of Annapolis and the City of Wash- ington. Indeed it is said that Sir Christopher Wren's design of London was used as a basis for Annapolis, and that Gen. Washington was influenced in approving and modifying the scheme submitted by L’Enfant, because of his familiarity with the Maryland city, which had two focal points from which several streets radiate. Another city, we are told, that in- fluenced his judgment was Williamsburg, Va., which had a mall, an imposing tract of green around which imposing colonial buildings were grouped and toward which the principal streets converged. Nowadays, two things that cannot be dis- associated are Annapolis and the Naval Academy and yet the latier is comparatively a recent imstitution as compered with the old landmarks and events of the ancient cily. Naturally the people of the District of Colum- bia can claim no part in establishing this im- portant naval school at Fort Severn, in 1845, and yet it was George Bancroft, the historian, who later identified himself with Washington; and who died here in 1891, who was primarily responsible for the War Department turning over to the Navy Department Fort Severn and its adjacent grounds for a naval school, and to which Comdr. Pranklin Buchanan was assigned as command in the new position. Comdr. Buchanan later became Admiral Buchanan of the Confederate Navy and opposed Admiral Farragut in the fight in Mobile Bay. George Bancroft was the Secretary of the Navy, and during his brief service as such effected many reforms. He also had the name of a poet, and was a great lover of flowers, and is credited with having originated the American Beauty rose in the garden attached to his home, 1623 H street northwest. For a number of years subsequent to 1886 the writer frequently visited Annapolis, and in this way became somewhat acquainted with the names of a few of its residents—in some cases very old Maryland family names. Especially does he recall the Revells, Worthingtons, Ma- gruders, Hagners, Monroes, Rideouts, Ingle- harts, Basils, Vansants, Waltons, Tidings, Brights, Thompsons, Metcalfs, Sands, Duvi Brewers, Mitchells, Tuckers and the Randalls— particularly Miss Margaret Randall, who mar- ried. Dr. Worthington, and who was Mrs, Proctor's Sunday school teacher at old St. Anne’s when the Rev. Dr. Southgate was its distinguished rector. The writer would like to refer in this story to many notable places at Annapolis which he has in mind—such as old St. John's College, Carvel Hall and other historic buildings and places—but these may be taken care of later, for the horde of strangers due to visit Wash- ington in 1932 will no doubt want to see all the shrines and show places to be seen in this part of the country. THE RING AND THE ROPE Centinued jrom Pourth Page windy seas in her eyes and the dusk-shadows in her hair. “Catherine.” His voice was low. “You've got the whole thing wrong! Nobody took your ring. 1 gave it away. Gave it to this girl because I happen to love her, I'm sorry, Catherine, but of course that doesn’t help . . .” He broke off miserably. He couldn't see Catherine’s eyes. But he knew that the blue was getting colder and colder until it would be gray ice in a little while. “Then the ring was never in the shop?” Catherine’s voice was curiously lifeless. Like the monotone of winds on an unimportant night. “No.” David said it slowly. “I forgot.” “Of course. But it's of no matter now. Or maybe it is. I guess it is better that you did not remember.” Then she crossed the grass until she came to the place where she had tossed the emerald. Bhe stooped and brushed her hand across the tossed the blue-green jewel into the crimson flames. The gypsy had not moved. There was some- thing very tender and very sad in her eyes. David sensed it rather than saw it. He must say something, he knew. He ought to stop Catherine. He spoke her name and waited. He was glad that she didn't answer. That she turned and ran away very quickly. As quickly as the gypsy maiden had run on other days. “You were most kind.” The husky voice of the gypsy girl was low and vibrant. “I did not know until today about the other girl,k I am sorry. It was all so much my fault.” She dréw herself away very proudly, very gently. The man’s arms pulled her back. They went around the slim waist and his mouth was pressed against the blue-black fragrance of her hair. “You would have died rather than tell?” “They wouldn't have killed me. Or maybe they would. One never knows. - But what does it matter? Thank you again.” This time she slipped away and was gone up the long, long road to the cabin. She was & wralth in the flying night. A girl from a gypsy land with the promise of Eden in dream-dark eyes. A girl who ran as though knew of the night and was - “The crook that breaks that lock works out in Detroit. He’s on file there, see But the crook that steals the real thing steals it in Chicago. That's why I took your fingerprints. I wire them pronto to that burg. Sure enough—they know you fine, Youre Duke Tachman when you're home.” “You haven't connected me yet with the diamonds,” said Tachman. “No? What's that on your hand when we ink your fingers?” . “Well, what?” “They say it's flour,” said Torley, “And what if it is” “Only this.” Torley produced a heavy little packag:, as shapeless as a bag of buttons. The necklace had been wrapped loosely in a man's white handkerchief, and as the detective opened it a white powder fell away. Torley took up & pinch between his fingers. “Flour,” he said. But it was not the flour that captured the eye of every person in the room, but the fiery knot of diamonds revealed when the cloth was fully unfolded. ] “This is the Curlew necklace that was stole,” Torley said. “I never seen it before, but I know. I fished it out of a flour barrel in a ctorcroom behind the kitchen.” s “That don’t pin it on me,” said Tachman. ’ “The flour barrel don't, but I ask you to notice. This necklace is wrapped in one of your own marked handkerchiefs. You have half a drawerful just like it at the Green Ballast. I know because I looked. You must of forgot about wrapping it in a handkerchief.” And Tachman remembered that he had done Just that irrevocable thing. . : ' 11|P IT wasn't for that dvy squad, I weulM of caught him with the goods,” said Torley a little later, when identifications had been made and the man taken away. *“On the other hand, if he hadn’t rubbed up his waiter I wouldn’t of had the chance. Somebody tipped him off we was looking for stamps.” ' “What I don’t see,” sald Linton, “is how you knew he was in that store room?” “I see him open the door,” said Torley, “three steps behind.” “Easy when you know. Another question, if you don’t mind: How did you know he had wrapped the diamonds in & marked hand- kerchief?” g “Didn’t. Not till afterward. Just fishing to find out his hotel, and he grabs my bait. We would of had him anyhow, but the hand- kerchief makes it easier.” . “You spoke of Detroit. How did you know about Detroit?” 5 ) s “He brings that glass to the auction, don' he, so good it fools you for a minute? Where does he get it? The family lve here, so I phone out. The answer is, the old lady has it stole from her in Detroit last Winter. The thief takes it for real. That's that. Stung, but he don't throw it away. Then the old lady dies, and they can't find a will and they telegraph it everywhere what will become of her diamonds, and he begins figuring. It don'® take so much smart to lay for a public auction you know is coming off.” “What I don’t yet see,” sald Linton, “is why