a
ork
iE
AERCIALT
JEST AND
re.
L
Tortoise
By
Frederic
-
CHAPTER L
CONTEMPLATES A VOYAGE TO
AMERICA.
MONK
“I am off to America on Friday next!”
“What! off to America?”
“Yes; I'm not joking.”
“Are you really serious?” Fancy, go-
ing to America this time of the year, at
the end of November! It must be very
important business which takes you
there! Can’t you send some one else?
You know Clara won't consider her
firstborn properly baptized if you don’t
stand godfather to him. That ceremony
is to take place next Sunday.”
“Unfortunately it is important busi-
ness—very importar.t business—that only
I can undertake. I am awfully sorry
to disappoint your wife, but I must go.”
This conversation took place in
Monk’s sitting room. It was my usual
habit, on leaving my office at seven
o'clock, to go up to Monk's rooms and
Lave a chat with him, and sometimes
persuade him to come home with me.
I ought perhaps here to inform my
readers that, some years before this
story begins, I had returned to my native
country after having spent several years
abroad, where I had made a small com-
petency as an engineer. When I again
saw Monk, the friend of my boyhood,
I found he had, strange to say, adopted
the profession of private detective. As
far as I could understand, he carried on
this business just as much out of love
for his work as for a means of earning
his living, and had already won himself
a reputation by his shrewdness, honesty,
and disinterestedness.
Monk’s sudden announcement took
my breath away; he had never for a
moment said a word about going to
America before. .
“Is it a new case you have on hand »
1 asked.
“No; it is not a new case.”
I looked doubtingly at him; this was
not the Monk I was accustomed to see
standing quietly before me with the
handsome, open countenance, and the
intelligent grey eyes looking fearlessly
into mine.
He was now pacing restlessly up and
down the floor. All at once he stopped
in front of me.
“Can you stay with me this evening?”
“Yes; with pleasure,” I replied. “Clara
has gone to the theatre with a friend.
I am therefore free, and it was my in-
tention to propose; to you that we should
spend the evening together.”
“That's right; let us have supper at
once, for I have something to tell you,
and until I have done so I shall have
no peace.”
Monk rang; and soon after we sat
down to supper. My host ate scarcely
anything ; indeed, he hardly attended to
his duties as host, and could not
conceal his impatience to hasten the end
of the meal.
It was quite apparent that something
unusual was the matter, so I got through
my supper as quickly as possible with
out interchanging many words.
When we returned again to the sit-
ting-room, Monk placed me in one of
his comfortable chairs, and set before
me some whiskey and water and cigars.
He himself lit a cigar, but soon threw
it half-smoked into the fire.
“You said you wanted to speak to me
about something, Monk.”
“Yes, if you have patience to listen
to me.”
“Of course I have!”
A faint smile lit up Monk’s dark coun-
tenance.
“I have put your patience to a severe
test over and over again with my lec-
tures on detective science, logic, deduc-
tions, and the like; but what I have in
mind this evening is nothing of that
sort. Do you feel inclined to. ‘hear a
story about myself, the story of how it
was I came to be the kind of man I
am, and to lead the life I do 7”
“My dear fellow,” I answered, “I
am more than ready to listen to you.
Any one can see that some time or an-
other something has happened to you
which has thrown a shadow over your
existence, but, as you can understand,
one does net ask one’s friends about
that sort of thing. One generally waits
until one is approached.”
“You are right, and I ought to have
told you all about it long ago; especially
as, for my part, 1 have nothing what-
ever to conceal. Yes, a man is wrong
to shut himself up in himself more than
is necessary; and in my ease I am afraid
I have been foolish, and doubly stupid,
not to have called to my aid a clever
friend’s assistance. I have stared my-
self blind with trying to find a way out
of the dark. It is, however, wrong of
me to call the affair my affair, since
no longer play any paft In it; but, in
any case, it concerns some one who was
|
| shall get to know as much of my his-
tory as I know of it myself.”
“Go on, Monk; go on! If an honest
man and an intelligent woman can help
you in any way, you have them at your
disposal in Clara and myself.”
I stretched out my hand to him; Monk
seized it *and shook it heartily. All
doubt and restlessness on his side had
vanished. In giving the account of
| his story, I only wish that I could have
| given it in his own clear language and
| striking words. To detail it in full is
| of course impossible; but I will do the
best I can, and if the narrative should
| become tedious, or wanting in clear-
ness, it is my fault, and not Monk's.
CHAPTER 11,
OLD FRICK.
When we separated, about fifteen
years ago (began Monk), that time you
went to Zurich to complete your stud-
ies as engineer, I went in seriously for
law, and was fortunate enough in four
years’ time to take my degree with
honors.
My friends and teachers tried to per-
suade me to follow a scientific career.
An endowment could have been had
from the university; and with this, to
gether with a small inheritance from my
father, I could have followed without
trouble the beaten path to a professor-
ship at the university,—so I was told,
at any rate,
But this was not to my mind; to have
got free from the student's bench only to
climb immediately to the dusty chair of
a professor, seemed to me anything but
attractive.
1 first got a situation in the office of
a government official, far up in the coun-
plenty of game and fishing; and I re-
turned to Christiania the year after, a
bearded, red-cheeked, young Nimrod.
tor in the Christiania police office, and
spent about two years in fining young
men for disorderly conduct in the streets
female population of the town.
As you can well understand, it was
hardly an occupation likely to attract a
man for any length of time, and I ex-
plained this to our amiable chief super
intendent when, one day, I placed my
resignation on his desk.
“Stop, a moment, my dear Monk,”
he said, with his genial smile. “Could
you not wait a little, before you hand
in this resignation? I must admit I
have not found that you possess any
special talent, either with regard to ar-
resting drunken students, or as a censor
of vice; still, on the other hand, I should
be much deceived, after my many years
of experience, if you do not find your
right sphere in the detective department.
Practically every one is aware that it
is to you we Owe our success in the
great post office robbery, although offi-
cially you had nothing to do with it;
and 1, at any rate, know how well you
cleared up the Fjorstat murder. For
many months 1 have been thinking of
offering you an appointment on the de-
tective force. If you will take your
‘resignation back, you can consider the
matter as settled.”
I gladly accepted the offer, but not
until I had obtained a year’s leave; a
year which IT spent abroad in travel, to
study languages and life in the great
countries.
I need hardly mention how useful my
stay abroad has been to me.
I have no doubt that I found my
right vocation when 1 joined the detec-
tive police; especially if I am to take
into - consideration the overwhelming
praise which my superiors gradually
poured upon me, or the flattering atten-
tion which the papers and the public
began to bestow upon me.
Monk paused, and for a few minutes
paced up and down the floor, as was his
habit when he was deeply occupied in
thought.
Well, he continued, I think I have now
given you an account of my life until
the day when the incident occurred
which since has played. such an im-
portant part in my life, and continues
to do so to this very day.
It was a rainy and stormy night at the
end of September, about seven years
ago, when, wet to the skin, and dead
beat, IT came driving up to my lodgings
in University Street. At that time I
always had rooms on the ground floor,
so that I could get in and out quickly
and unobserved.
I had been on an expedition after
some burglars high up on the Egeberg
hills, The expedition had been long and
irksome, both for myself and my assist-
ants, and without result.
1 always employ the same cabman—
you remember: Peter Lyverson, of
course? Well, he had been waiting for
us five hours in one of the small streets
in the East end, and was just as disap-
pointed at the lack of success and as
wet as I was, so I thought it only right
to ask him inside and give him a stiff
glass of brandy.
Lyverson had just finished his glass,
and with a profusion of thanks was
lighting a cigar and bowing himself out,
when we heard a ring at the telephone.
“Wait a moment,” I cried to him, and
rushed to the apparatus.
“Hello! are you Monk, the police
detective?”
“Yes; who is it?”
“Bartholomew Frick of Drammen
Road. Can you come out here at once?
My house has been broken into. I
thought that a man like you would pre-
quickly as possible!”
“All right, T will come.”
It was not pleasant, for I was wet and
tired: - but business is business, and
Bartholomew Frick was right in saying
that I liked to be the first on the spot.
Some minutes later the carriage was
rolling along the deserted streets in the
pouring rain toward Drammen Road.
I used the time, while we were on
as dear to me as my owa life. Are you
prepared to listen to me? If so, youl |
rast amram ee
our ey, to recall what I knew about
“Old Friek.”
Bartholomew or “Captain” Frick, as
! which he had collected and brought
| with him from all quarters of the globe.
! ook about him to make inquiries re-
.
' in needy circumstances.
try, where there was little to do, but |
. and a girl, and it was generally assumed
Then I became the youngest inspec- |
and keeping order among the erratic |
. seen him, although your house is not far
fer to be the first on the spot, and as
pressed my hand in his own large ones;
. they were of the fulness and size of a
TR RRR RT
he was also called, had left Norway
when quite a young man—somewhere
between twenty and thirty years of age.
For a generation or so no one heard
anything of him, until suddenly he
returned to his native country, an old
man. This was some years before my
story begins. .
He came to Christiania, bringing with
him. a whole shipload of curiosities and
costly articles, and was, on the whole,
considered to be a very rich man.
His title of captain he presumably
got from the fact that he had won his
fortune, so people said, as captain of a
pirate ship, and later on as a slave-
dealer.
A more likely explanation, and one
which carried with it a greater convic-
tion of truth, was that he had acquired
his fortune at gold washing in Aus-
tralia, and diamond digging in Africa.
He had, in both places, been one of
the first to discover the rich treasures
there.
On his return to Christiania he bought
himself a large house in Drammen Road,
and this he filled with the curiosities
After becoming settled, he began to
garding his family, and he found that
his only remaining relations were his
brother's widow and two young children
Apparently in order to make some
reparation for his earlier neglect, he
overwhelmed the poor widow with bene-
factions, and brought the poor, weak
soul to a state of great bewilderment
by placing large and, to her notions,
fabulous sums at her disposal.
After a short time she died, and Frick
then adopted her two children, a boy
that they would inherit his wealth.
Old Frick was a well-known figure
in Christiania, and had a widespread
reputation for his riches, benevolence,
and—irascibility.
The house is situated just outside
Skillebek, as you must know. I should
not wonder, however, if you have never
from his property, for during the last
few years old Frick has been confined
to his house, an invalid, and he never
shows himself outside of it. "As it usu-
ally happens, the indifference of the
world to him now is just as great as its
interest in him and his affairs was at
one time.
Presidently the carriage drew up be-
fore an iron gate, which was immedi-
ately opened by a man, the coachman of
the house, with a lantern in his hand.
Words were unnecessary; he was pre-
pared for my arrival, and 1 followed
him immediately up to the house
We went along a passage and passed
one or two rooms, in the last of which
stood some servants whispering to-
gether, until we came, at length, into
a large room or salon which was lighted
up.
This salon presented a motley ap-
pearance. Some of the furniture was
old-fashioned, and some of it modern.
There were tropical plants in large tubs;
Venetian pier glasses on the walls, hav-
ing between them large cases filled with
wonders from all climes, and of all
ages; stuffed animals in the middle of
the room and in the corners. On a
shelf stood some heavy altar candelabra
from an old church. and from a neigh-
boring shelf hung a lamp, doubtless
stolen from some Hindoo temple.
On a bracket, opposite a clock worked
by sand, a relic of the Middle Ages,
ticked a splendid specimen of a modern
Parisian timepiece. Indeed, I might go
on forever enumerating the extraordi-
nary and wonderful assortment of curi-
osities that met one’s eye at every turn.
In spite of this conglomeration, the
room was not unpleasant. My first im-
pression—and later it proved to be cor-
rect—was that, though all these things
had been brought together by Bartholo-
mew Frick, they had been arranged by
his niece.
At one end of the room only was
there any noticeab!~ disorder. = There
several chairs were overturned, a couple
of tupboards stood wide open, and a
window was entirely smashed, both glass
and woodwork. The storm and rain,
however, did not beat in, as this room
lay to the leeward side of the house, and
the cheerful fire in the grate at the
other end of the room impressed one
with a sense of warmth and comfort.
By the fireside sat old Frick in an
armchair, On the mantelpiece before
him lay a large American revolver,
with brightly polished barrel, and lean-
ing against his chair was an enormous
Prussian cavalry sword. ;
The master of the house was clad in a
large-patterned dressing gown ,and slip-
pers, and he got up at once when I came
in.
At his side stood his brother’s chil-
dren, a fine young fellow with an honest
face, and a very pretty young girl.
Old Frick himself could hardly be
considered handsome. He had a large,
fat, red face, with an enormous reddish-
blue nose, white bushy hair, which stuck
out in unkempt tufts, and a white, thick
beard under his chin. His eyes were
light, and generally friendly; but when
he was angry, which not seldom hap-
pened, they changed into a kind of
greenish color, which was anything but
pleasant to see.
Every human being is said to resemble
some animal or another in appearance;
Bartholomew Frick would not have done
discredit to a Bengal tiger.
He came quickly across to me, and
wairus’s flippers. He was stout, broad,
and thick-set, but moved about with
youthful emergy, although somewhat
elumsily.
“Oh, are you here already, Mr. Monk? |
Glad to set you! It isn't more than |
twenty minutes since I rang you up |
through the telephong; that's smart
work if you like! That's the thing, |
Looe man, promptitude above every- |
ng! It is the most important thing |
Tow
in the world. How do you think Napo-
leon managed to conquer the whole of
Europe? What do you think it was
that helped him? His promptitude, my
friend, and nothing else. Don’t talk to
me of generalship or anything of that
sort. He was smarter and quicker than
every one else, and that’s the reason he
could do what he liked with them all.
“But now you mast hear how it all
happened with regard to the burglary—
ah, you wink at me, Sigrid? I suppose
you mean that I must first introduce you
to Mr. Monk? Very well! This is my
niece, Sigrid Frick, and that is my
nephew, Einar Frick; both are the joy
and stay of my old age. But now what
| about the—what are you now making
signs about, Einar? I suppose you mean
Mr. Monk should be asked to take a {
seat.”
“And a glass of wine,” whispered the
young girl, casting a compassionate
glance at my wet clothes.
“Yes, of course; Mr. Monk shall sit
down and have everything he wants.
But meanwhile I can in a few words
tell him how it all happened.”
Bartholomew Frick was, however, not |
a man of a few words, and it took some
time before I got to know how he had
lain sleepless, kept awake by a “devil-
ish unpleasant pain in his big toe,” and
so toward one o'clock he had heard a
strange sound in the room below,—for
he slept just over the salon where we
sat.
The old man had lost not a minute in
getting out of bed; he had seized a
loaded revolver, which always lay at
hand on his table, and a sword, which °
was also within reach, both mementoes,
no doubt, of his adventurous life.
Thus armed, and with slippers on his
feet, but with no other clothes on than
his nightshirt, he had crept down the
stairs and slowly opened the door of the
salon. ’
Here he saw two men, who weré
quietly at work breaking open his cup-
boards and emptying their most valuable
contents into a sack.
“T first of all fired two shots at their
heads,” continued Frick; “but when the
smoke had lifted, T saw they were both
as alive as ever, and on their way to
the window to escape. I rushed after
them with the sword. and they would
not have got away alive if I had not
stumbled over that confounded pan-
ther!” and he pointed to a large stuffed -
panther which lay overturned on its side
in the middle of the room.
“But you might have killed them,
uncle!” faltered the young girl, re
proachfully.
“Yes, killed them! T only wish I had
hacked them to sausage-meat! But just
listen; now comes the most irritating
part of all. Only one of the scoundrels
could get out through the open window,
for the one half has no hinges on it and
does not open; so the other fellow, who
evidently didn’t think he had time to es-
cape before I came up, disappeared head
foremost, through both glass and frame-
work. But he didn’t get through quick-
ly enough, for when I got away from
that confounded panther, his left leg
was still hanging inside the window
ledge. ‘You shan’t take that with you,
at any rate,’ thoucnt I, for now I was
only a couple of yards from him, and the
sword was just raised above my head,
ready to strike, when one of my feet
caught in the jaw of the ice bear, and
over I fell for the second time.
“Yes, you laugh! Perhaps you do not
believe me? But I tell you, if that ice
bear had not been in the way, I should
have been able at this moment to place
on the table before you the rascal’s foot,
and perhaps a bit of his leg as well.
Here, you can see for yourself; the
sword just cut off the heel with a bit
of the sole, and more than that I could
not manage; but another inch or two
would have done it.” .
He triumphantly put before me
broad heel, with a bit of the sole at-
tached, evidently cut from the boot with
a powerful stroke.
“This was the only bit of the scoun-
drel that was left behind; the rest of
him ran across the garden over the rail.
ings, and out into the road. The re-
volver had also fallen from my grasp,
or else I should have tried a couple
more shots after them. 1 once shot a
Zulu at seventy paces, with the same re-
volver; he had stolen a hen from me,
the rascal!”
1 didn’t quite know what to think
of such a bloodthirsty old mang But a
certain humorous twinkle in his eyes
gave me to understand that this was not
genuine, and, as the young people didn’t
try to hide their merriment, we all three
had a good laugh.
1 afterward learned that old Frick
suffered from many of the defects which
are so often the outcome of a hard and
adventurous life, such as he had led
from his youth to old age: stubborn-
ness, waywardness, and tyrannical con-
tempt for the feelings of others when
his own were aroused. Otherwise his
heart was soft and as good as gold.
It was plain to see that the burglary
had not in the least ruffled his temper.
On the contrary, he felt himself com-
siderably enlivened with this reminder
of a life which had been full of such
seenes.
At last he finished his description of
how the thieves had disappeared, the
house had become aroused, and I tele-
phoned for, etc, with the result known.
But what he was especially proud about !
was that he had given orders that noth-
ing should be touched or moved in the
room after the burglary.
“I myself have been a policeman,” he
said. “I was sheriff in Ballarat for three
years in succession, and I had charge of
many investigations there. One thing 1
have learned by experience, and that is,
that the place of a crime must remain
untouched until the police arrive, other-
wise it is impossible for them to get to
work.”
I thanked him for his thoughtfulness
and presence of mind, which seemed to
please him.
1 have described this, my first meet-
ing with old Frick, so fully, not because
it is of any great importance to my
|
story, but because it will, perhaps, give
| you some idea of the man and his char
acteristics.
Next I proceeded to examine the scene
of the burglary. It was just as Frick had
said, nothing had been touched or
moved. Even the sack which the thieves
had used to stow away their spoil in, lay
there on the floor, just as they had flung
it from them when they took to flight.
Several of the cupboards in the room
had been filled with gold and silver
articles, and precious stones. It was a
complete museum; and the thieves had,
so far, carried out a sensible plan in
having broken open all the cupboards
and drawers, but only putting into the
bag the articles which were of the most
value and the easiest of transport.
Otherwise there was little else to dis-
cover. We could follow the tracks of
the thieves through the garden, over the
_ palings, and out into Drammen Road;
but they had left nothing behind them
except old Frick’s trophy, the heel with
the bit of sole adhering, and the sack.
This was emptied, and the contents
set in their places in the cupboards.
Nothing seemed to be missing; and as
each article was numbered, and the
place in which it was to stand, it was
an easy matter to contro] them.
Suddenly “Miss Frick clasped her
hands together, and exclaimed :—
“But the tortoise, uncle! the tortoise
is gone!”
“It is a precious gem we have given
that name—a large diamond set in gold,
and in the shape of a tortoise,” she
|
pression.
“That is the most valuable of all my
collection,” continued Frick. “I don’t
know what the diamond can be worth
when it is polished, but all I know is
that 1 have been offered £2,000 for it as
it Is now. It is black.”
He raked about with his large fingers
at the bottom of the sack, and finally
turned it inside out, but there was no
diamond tortoise. Then the room and
at last the garden, and the nearest part
of Drammen Road was searched most
_ carefully by aid of the lantern, but with-
. out result,
“How large was the
asked.
“It could at a pinch be hidden in the
hollow of a man’s hand—say about two
inches in diameter with the setting.”
© It was now nearly three o'clock in
‘ the morning. There was no more for
me to do there, so I prepared to take
my departure.
The old man began again to lament
the loss of the diamond, and complained
in the most energetic manner that he
had not been able to shoot, or cut in
two, the rascals who had robbed him.
“It would be stupid of me to promise
anything,” said I. “but, for my own
part, I am pretty sure we shall have
the birds caged before many days, and
that we shall secure the diamond as
well.”
With these words, I took my depart-
ure, put the cut off heel bits in my
tortoise?” I
pocket, and went home.
My thoughts on the way were natur-
ally taken up with what I had heard
and seen at Bartholomew Frick’s.
But, remarkably enough, it was the
young girl, Miss Frick, upon whom my
thoughts dwelt most of all. I had only
heard her speak a few words, and this
was the first time 1 had seen her face;
but she attracted me strangely. I have
never been of an impressionable nature,
and no woman had ever had much of an
attraction for me. So I was astonished
to find how clearly her image stood out
before me after the few hours we had
been together. I already felt a strong
desire to please her—a desire to do
something which would compel her ad-
miration.
You must, in any case, get the dia-
mond back for her uncle, I thought; wo-
men naturally set value upon a detec-
tive’s skill. It will, at any rate, please
her uncle, and bring me into her soci-
ety again.
I had at once noticed that the rob:
“bery at Frick’s was of a simple and
not very complicated kind; and though
the matter from a professional stand-
point had not interested me particularly,
it had suddenly become invested with a
new importance.
As soon as I arrived home, 1 hurried-
ly changed my wet clothes, made myself
a cup of coffee over the spirit lamp,
and then took out the piece of heel.
It was a broad, strong heel, with an
iron rim round it, and entirely new,
just like the sole. Tt did not seem to
have belonged to the usual kind of cheap
boots which our ordinary criminals are
apt to patronize; at the same time it did
not seem to have belonged to the bet-
ter class of foot-gear.
how seemed to me to be familiar; a
vague recollection of something set my
brain to work.
Ah, suddenly I saw it all! The heel
and sole belonged to the same sort of
shoes, in fact they were a perfect match
to a pair which had just helped the
police to circumstantial evidence by an
impression on soft soil in a similar case.
It was the same kind of boot with which
the prison soeiety provides discharged
prisoners, so that they shall not be en-
prison.
register of those who arc let loose.
In the meanwhile, I went into the
| guardroom and ordered two constables
added, when she saw my puzzled ex- |
to follow me.
“Black John, the Throndhjemer, as
you perhaps remember, sir, was dis=
charged yesterday morning; I don’t see
any others.”
“That's all right! find out where he
hangs about when he is out.”
“I know him well, sir. He generally
puts up at ‘Fat Bertha’s/ she who has
the coffee-house and lodgings for trav-
elers up by Vaalerengen. But he often
frequents the sheds in the brick fields
and round about there.”
I always had a trap in readiness at
the police station, and in a quarter of
an hour I, and two officers in plain
clothes, stopped at a suitable distance
from Fat Bertha’s lodging-house.
Black John was not there, however,
and we began to search among the brick
ovens.
Daylight was just breaking when we
came to the second oven, and the work
men were arriving with their tin cans
in hand. Two men crept out on the
other side and began to run across a
ploughed field which adjoined one of the’
sheds.
We set off after them; but it seemed
as if they had got too much of a start,
and were likely to get away from us in
the morning mist.
Suddenly one of them began to drop
behind, and we soon had him between
us. We let the other one get away for
the time being.
The fellow we had got hold of swore
and cursed, but otherwise made no ree
sistance.
“If it hadn’t been for that sore foot
of mine, the police wouldn’t have got me
this time,” he bawled. ‘
We followed the direction of his look,
and saw how his left foot had forced its
way through the shoe, which was drage
ging about his ankle, a
Black John’s volubility did not deceive
me. I kept a sharp eye on all his move-
ments while he, with a kind of raw
good nature, joked with the constables,
he slowly passed one hand behind him,
and with a deft movement threw a small
parcel some ten or twelve paces behind
him.
“You had better leave tricks of that
sort alone, Black John,” I said in a
friendly tone, stepping back and picking
up a dirty little packet wrapped in a
greasy piece of The Morning Post.
Inside three or four wrappers of the
same sort I found the strangest object
I had ever seen.
It was a large black diamond, of a
flattened oval shape, tapering at the
ends. It was set in a proad gold rim
of the same form as the stone, and, to
make its likeness to a tortoise more comt
plete, a head was introduced, together
with a little stumpy tail, and four knobs
underneath, to represent feet—all of
gold. In the head shone two green
precious stones for eyes.
“Oh, no; it won’t be of much use
to me, I can see,” said Black John, re-
signedly. “I suppose I am in for an-
other year or two.”
He exhibited a subtle humor, while he
tramped along to the town between *'
two policemen. The effects of just
prison libations did not seem quite to
have left him.
“Ours is a hard sort of a professio
sir,” he continuued confidentially. 4
think it’s just as well to be a convict all
one’s life. Then one wouldn't get such
frights at night. Such a one as I had
last night!”
“Were you frightened, then, last night,
in the Drammen Road?” I asked syme
pathetically.
“Frightened, indeed! What would you
say, sir, if you were busy rooting about
in a house at night, when you thought
all was quiet and still, and an old our-
ang outang in a shirt were suddenly to
appear before you with a sword in one
hand a pistol in the other, firing away
at you till the bullets whistled about
your ears?”
In this kind of jocular strain he talked
until we reached the town, where we
parted.
: (To be Continued.)
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tirely shoeless when they come out of
|
One of the thieves must be a dis-
charged prisoner, [' went on reasoning.
| The boots are quite new ; he must, there-
fore, have been just lately released—
| in all probability yesterday morning. The
burglary must have been planned and
the necessary watch on the house under-
taken by a confederate, who, of course,
must have been at large for some time
previous.
Ten minutes later I stood in the ante.
room to my office at the police station.
It was not yet morning. The official on
duty sat and dozed over the stove.
“Find out from the ledger if any of
our burglars have been diseharged from
jail in the course of the last two or
three days,” I asked.
It is, unfortunately, a fact, that a
|
|
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|
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