Newspaper Page Text
EIGHT
The Mystery of the Bojle Cabinet
PROLOGUE.
If a literary miner were to ap
praise this story he would say
of it:
“It pans out a big percentage
of thrills. "
There's “pav dirt" in this mys
tery story for every lover of an
exciting tale and an interesting
plot. It is one of the master
pieces of its author, who is a rec
ognized leader in the field of the
detective story.
Round a beautifully inlaid cab
inet dating from the days of
Louis XIV. which stands in a
Fifth avenue mansion weaves n
story of plot and counterplot,
mystery, suspense and surprise.
Jim Godfrey, shrewdest of re
porters, and the detective bu
reaus of Now York and Paris are
trying to unravel the intricately
entangled clews. And the read
er, too, will go along with them,
breathless and absorbed, getting
now a hint, again coming up
against a blank wall, until, like
them, he comes to the amazing
explanation. Anil the one who
baffles reporters, detectives and
readers is Crochard, the invinci
ble, a creation in detective fic
tion.
(Continued from Yesterday)
"Goldberger Is right In tlint," agreed
Godfrey. "Hut Hutch It patsou UD
known tlint will. I'.connuc It did.”
“It wnan't n Kimke bite?"
“Ob. no. Snnke poison wouldn't kill
a mun tlint i|iilckly. not even n for de
Innee. Tlint fellow practically dropped
where he wiin struck "
“Then what wnn It?"
Godfrey wns sitting erect ngnin. He
wn* not smiling now. Ills fitoe was
eery stern
“Tlint fellow wns killed hy some
agency outside himself." lie mild. “In
aonic wuy it drop or two of poison wns
Introduced Into his blood by nn instru
ment something like n hypodermic
needle, mid that poison wns so power
ful Unit n I most lustiiiitly It caused
paralysis of the henrt-"
“But you've already mi Id there's no
poison so powerful ns nil tlint."
“I snld we didn’t know of any. 1
wouldn't be so sure that Catherine de
Medici didn't Tills ruse Isn't an ex
traordinary ns some of the old poison
Init atorles "
“No." 1 screed, and fell silent shiv
•ring n little, for there Is something:
horrible and revolting about the pol
•oner.
CHAPTER 111
Th» Thunderbolt
A TEH all.” went on Godfrey,
"there Is one thine that neither
you nor I nor nn.v reasonable
nmn can lielleve, and thnt la
that this trench man mine from bear
on knows where— from I'arl*. perhaps
—with Vamine's address In hla pocket,
and hunted up the house nnd made hla
way Into It simply to kill himself there.
He hint some other object, nnd be met
blr denth while trying to accomplish
It."
“Have you found out who he la?"
“No. he's not registered nt any of
the hotels The I'rench consul never
heard of him tie belongs to none of
the Fretit h societies lie's not known
In the french quarter. He seema to
haTe dropped In from the clouds.
We’ve cabled our I’arla office to look
him up We may hear from tbcie to
ulghl hut even If we discover the
Identify of Theophlle d'Aurelle, It
won't help us nn>."
'*Wby not'” : demanded.
“Because It la evident that that Isn't
his name,"
"Go abend and tell me, Godfrey."
1 said, as lie looked at me, smiling "I
don't see It."
"Why, It's plain enough He had live
cards In his pocket, no two nlike. The
•lath, selected probably at random, he
had sent up to Yuntltio."
1 saw It then, of course Godfrey
•tolled again nt m.v expression.
"The real d'Aurelle. whoever he may
turn out to he. may be able to help
ua." be added. "If he can’t, we may
team something from the I’iirla police
The dead man's Hertlllon measure
ntenta have been cabled over to them
Even thnt won't help If he has never
beet: arrested And. of course, w# can’t
get lit motives until wo dud out some
thing shout him "
' But, Godfrey," I ssld, "how was li
done? That la what stumps me. How
wag It done?"
"Ahr agreed Godfrey. "That's It
How wss It done? I told you It was s
pretiv esse, l.ester But wult till wi
hear from Paris"
"That reminds tne." 1 ssld, sitting up
■uddenly. "I've got to cable to Parb
myself, on some business for Mr Van
tine "
“Not connected with this affair?”
"Oh, no; his shippers over there scnl
him s piece of furniture that doesn't
belong to him He asked me to straight
eg the matter auu”
By Burton E. Stevenson
OpyrlKhtoil 1913 by Hin-ton E Hlcveniion
I rilllj: 11.1 11,.' 1 >.l 111 ... \.ft S k t*f 1 III!
i’ll l>lc I till f* 1. i.i.d (.cut < iff ;i uieNNiigc t
Arimind ,v s..n, (••mrikr iln-m <>r il.
mistake and itnklntr them t(. c.-iiiie th<
mum' of tin* owner of tin* cnlilin't now
In Mr Vikritltii'V possession. Godfrey
got to Ills fi*i*t
"I must in* moving along." hi* until
“There's rn> use sitting hi*ri* tlienrl*
Ing until ivp tinvi* some sort of foun
datlnti to build on "
The ringing of my telephone stop
pod him
"IIolio." | mild, ttiklnic down the re
celver
‘‘l* thnt you. Mr [.enter?" asked a
voire
"Yes "
"Thin In Parks," and I suddenly real
l»ed thnt tils voice whs <inmrnllfmr lie
eniiNe It tv il s tnmrse it ml quivering with
emotion “Could you come down to
the house right away, sir?'
••Why. yes " | Kiiid. wonderlngly. "If
It's Iniportiint. lines Mr Vnntlne need
me?”
“We nil need yon!” enld the voice
and broke Into n dry soli "For Cod's
anke. come quick. Mr l.ester!"
"All right." I sii t.l without further
parley, for evidently lie hud lost his
self control. "Something has happen
ed down at Vantlne's,” I added to
Godfrey as I hima up the receiver.
“Slut 11 I come, too?" asked Godfrey.
“Perhaps you'd better It sounded
pretty serious"
We went down together In the ele
vator, and three minutes Inter we had
hailed a taxi and were speeding east
ward toward the avenue. As we
reached the avenue and turned down
town the driver pushed up Ills spark
Five minutes later we drew up before
the Van tine place.
Parks most have been on the front
steps looking for me, for be came run
nlng down them almost before the car
had stopped. Ills face startled me.
“Is It you. Mr. l.ester?" lie gasped.
"Sternly, man." 1 said "Don't let
yourself go to pieces. Now—what has
happened?"
"I’ll show you. sir,” he said and ran
up the steps, along the hull, to the
door of tin* anteroom where we hud
found Uic Fronchiimn’a body. "In
there, sir!" lie sobbed. “In there!"
The room was ablaae with light, and
for an lustsnt mv eyes w-ere so daz
tied that I could distinguish nothing
Dimly I saw Godfrey spring forward
and drop to Ids knees.
Then my eyes cleared, and 1 saw
on the very spot where D'Aurelle had
died, another body. I remember bend
lug over and peering Into the face.
It was the face of Philip Vnntlne.
“He's dead," said Godfrey.
Then there wua an Instant's silence.
“Lester, look here!'' cried Godfrey’s
voice, sharp. Insistent
Godfrey was kneeling there holding
something toward me.
“Look here!" lie cried again.
It was the dead man's band he was
holding- tlu> right hand, a swollen and
discolored hand—and on the back of It
Just above the knuckles, were two tiny
wounds, from which a few drops of
blood had trickled.
And ns I stared at this ghastly sight
senree able to believe my eves, I heard
a choking voice behtud uie saylug over
and over again:
“It was that woman done It! It was
that woman dooe It!"
1 have no very clear remembrance of
what happened after that The shock
was ho great that I had Just strength
enough to !otter to a chair and drop
Into It and sit there staring vaguely
at that dark splotch on the carpet
Two or throe' persons came tnto the
room—Parks and the other servants, 1
suppose. I beard Godfrey’s voice giv
ing orders, and Dually some one held
a glnss to my lips and commanded me
to drink. Again, then, ! saw Godfrey
standing over r.ie.
"Keel better?" he asked.
I nodded.
"1 don't wonder It knocked you out"
he went on "Pin feeling shaky my
self. 1 hud them cal! Vantlne's physi
cian. Hut h» can't do anything."
"Godfrey," I whispered, "whose voice
was It—something about a womanT"
"It was lingers. He's almost hysteri
cal. We'll get tho story as aoou as he
quiets down."
Home one called him from the door,
and he turned away, leaving uie star
Itig blankly at nothing. So there had
been a woman In Vantlne's life! Per
naps that was w-hy be had never mar
ried What ugly skeleton waa to lie
dragged from Its closet?
Hut If a woman killed Vnntlne, the
eaine woman also killed D'Aurelle.
where was her hiding place? From
what ambush did ahe strike?
I glanced shout the room ss s tre
mor of horror relied me. 1 arose,
slinking, from the chair and groped my
w-n.v toward the door. Godfrey heard
me coming, swung around and. with
one glance nt my face, came to me and
caught me hy the arms.
lie led me Into the hall, and s second
glass of brandy gave me back some
thing of my self control. 1 was
ashamed of my wen knees, but wbeu I
glanced at Godfrey I saw how white
his face was
"Hotter lake a drink yourself,” I said.
1 heard the decanlet rattle on the
glass
"I don't know when I have been to
shaken." be said, setting the glass
down empty. "It was so grewsome—
so utic»is*ct(*d snd thru Itoger* carry
“Look her©!*' he ~**ied again.
f*
ing on like n madman Ah. here's the
doctor." lie milled, an the front door
opened nml Parks slmwed a man In.
t knew Or. I Inches, of course, re
turned his nod and followed him and
Godfrey Into the anteroom. 1 heard
Godfrey telling him all he knew, while
Hughes listened with Incredulous face.
“Hut It's absurd, you know!’ he pro
tested. when Godfrey had finished.
“Things like this (lou t happen here in
New Vork. In Florence, perhaps. In
the middle ages; but not here In the
twentieth centuryl”
“I can scarcely believe my own
senses," Godfrey agreed “But 1 saw
the Frenchman lying here this after
noon; and now here's Vantlne.”
Hughes turned hack to the body
again, anil looked long and earnestly
at the Injured band.
“What sort of Instrument made this
wound, would you say. Hr. Godfrey?"
he questioned at last.
“A sharp Instrument with two prongs.
My theory Is that the prongs nre hol
low, like a hypodermic needle, and
leave a drop or two of poison at the
bottom of the wound. You see. o vein
has been cut”
“Yes," Hughes assented. “It wonld
acnrccly be possible to pierce the hand
here without striking a vein. One of
the prongs would t>e sure to do It”
“That's the reason there are two of
them, I fancy."
“But you nre. of course, aware that
no poison exists which would act so
quickly?” Hughes Inquired.
Godfrey looked at him strangely.
"You yourself mentioned Florence a
moment ago," he said. “You meant 1
auppose, that auoh n poison did at one
time exist there?"
"Something of the sort, perhaps,"
agreed Hughes.
“Well, the poison that existed In
Florence live centuries ago exists here
todny. There's the proof of It,” and
Godfrey pointed to the body.
"But what sort of devilish tnstrn
ment Is It?" cried Hughes, his nerves
giving way for an Instant his voice
mounting shrilly "Above nil, who
wields It?" Then he shook himself
together.
“There Is something supernatural
about It. something I can't understand
How does t* happen that each of the
victims Is struck on the right hand?
Why not on the left hand? Why the
hand at all?”
Godfrey answered with a despairing
shrug
"That Is what we've got to And out,"
he said
“We shall have to call 1n the police,"
suggested Hughes. "Maybe they can
solve It."
Godfrey smiled, a little skeptical
smile, quickly suppressed.
"At least they will have to he given
the chance.’.' be agreed. “Shall I at
tend to It?"
"Yes," said Hughes, “and yon would
better do It right away. The sooner
they get here the better."
“Very well," assented Godfrey, and
left the room.
Hughes sat down heavily on the
conch near the window and mopped
Ills face again with n shaking hand.
That was a trying hnlf hour. Hughes
sat on the conch, breathing heavily,
atartng at the floor. As for me, 1 was
thinking of my dead friend. 1 remem
bered Philip Vantlne as I had always
known him—a kindly, witty. Christian
gentleman. That such a man should
be killed like this, struck down by a
mysterious assassin, armed with a poi
soned weapon!
A woman! But why should she have
chosen Philip Ynntine of all men for
her victim Philip Vantlne, who had
never Injured any woman? And then
1 paused, for I realised that I kuew
nothing of Vautlne except what he
had chosen to tell me. Parks would
know. And then I shrank from the
thought. Must we probe that secret?
Must we oemuel a man to betray Mi
mast or'
(To be Continued Tomorrow.)
vUE AUGUSTA HERALD, AUGUSTA, GA.
THE TRAP
There Was a Rattle and a Clang As An Iron Curtain
Came Down From Above and Fitted Inside the Bars.
Then Everything Was in Darkness.
It was on an afternoon in March
i that Lord Ernest'left Challice’s shop
I in Resent Street at half-past three,
I As he walked slowly along the shady
j sid a of the street, no casual passer
b, would have suspected that he car
ried in his waist-coat pocket four
large rubies for which tie' had just
paid Mr. Ch all ice SIOO,OOO. The his
tory of these four rubies was very
j interesting. It is enough to say that
they had once adorned the person of
I a semi-independent ruler in North
| west India whose body was found by his
I servants one morning neatly strang
led, in a peculiarly, effective way, and
(hat some six weeks later they were
cut from the body us a dead Pathan
in one of the rabbit warren mazes at
the back of the largest bazaar in Cal
cutta These two facts alone would
be sufficient, to give the stones a pe
culiar interest, in the eyes of most
people. Lord Ernest himself knew
these facts—and several others of an
unusual nature —in the history of tha
rubies.
So, emotionless and unexcited, he
sat an hour later in the bow window
of the smoking-room at his club, over
looking the green park, with the eve
ning paper. But it was ignoranca
alone that enabled him to sit thus;
had he known that within a mile of
him the details of his purchase were
being eagerly discussed by two of the
most notorious scoundrels in London,
even the imperturbable Lord Ernest
Sinclair would hardly have been able
to maintain his accustomed calm.
Yet the fact was true that the
thieves’ telegraph had been working.
Tlie news of Lord Ernest's purchase,
the price he had given, and the fact
that he had left Challice's with the
jewels, has passed immediately by
subtle channels to a man who was
prepared to pay liberally for intel
ligence of a sufficiently Interesting
nature.
And so, while Lord Ernest sat In
his club and looked through the pa
per, Simon Warren sat in his house
in one of the, dull streets at the back
of the Burlington Arcade and talked
low and eagerly to Mr. James Haw
kins as to the best means of reliev
ing Lord Ernest of such an incubus
us his four newly acquired rubies
must form. An Introduction to Simon
Warren would have given supreme
pleasure to any one of the officials
at Scotland Yard. His name, it is
true, was unknown to theim But
his existence was a thorn in the f'esn
of every detective in London. He had
been, as they well knew, at the back
of most of the famous jewel thefts
of the last five years. He was the
master mind, and traces of his inge
nuity were found in every robbery.
But his cleverness in hiding his tracks
and the staunchness of those of his
confederates or tools who had fallen
into the hands of the law, had kept
him safe until now. The first reason
was likely to do so for all time—for
Simon Warren was a very wily bird.
The second reason, too, was equally
good, for he treated his friends well,
and they all knew that his scheming
and his freedom were necessary to
insure the success which generally
attended their plans.
So Mr. Simon Warren pursued his
nefarious calling in peace and freedom
in spite of the endeavors of Scotland
Yard to Interfere with the harmony or
his life. His present companion,
Jimmy Hawkins, was a person of a
different stamp. He was the sort of
man who associated naturally with a
jimmy and a dark lantern. Jim Haw
kins was an artist in his own line.
He was one of the most skilful men
in London at finding a safe, silent,
und unusual entrance into the houses
of other people. In fact, it is not too
much to say that he was a burglar.
It was for til is reason that Firnou
Warren hud sent for him as soon as
he received the news of Lord Ernest's
purchase. He had nad hiß eyes on
Lord Ernest for some time, and knew
that a successful visit to Lord
Ernest's house would have very sat-
Ufartory results. An he intended to
send James Hawkins to pay that visit.
Mr. Hawkins liiuiseif was by no
meaus averse to the suggestion. He
only stipulated that, as he was nat
urally of a shy and retiring disposi
tion, he should be at liberty to choose
his own time for the visit. Two
o'clock in the morning, he thought,
would be a very suitable hour. It
was unlikely that lx>rd Ernest would
be entertaining friends at that time,
and, above ail things, Mr. Hawkins
wished to avoid causing Lord Ernest j
any disturbances. Next Thursday,
thought Mr. Hawkins. I am disen
gaged. 1 will pay this visit next
Thursday, and if inv good friend, Mr.
Warren, will invite me to breakfast
on Friday, I shall be pleased to come
and inform him of the results of my
visit. Mr. Warren heartily agreed
with these ideas, and added that he
would be delighted to see Mr Haw
kins to breakfast on the day men
tioned.
Mr Hawklryi then expressed his
ability to dispose of some liquid re
froshnunts. This ability having been
quenched. Mr. Hawkins took his de
parture In high spirits, managing,
while Mr Warren's back was turned,
to pocket a heat gold cigarette case
that was lying in an exposed position t
on the mantel; iece.
Mr. Hawkins' movements during
the next few- days wor not of absorb
ing interest, and we can. therefore,
with safety pass to the evening of
Thursday, when Mr. Hawkins, after
spending a quiet day in bed, rose
about 7 p. m., and after a hearty
breakfast, donned an overcoat and
cap. and set of fthrough a mase of
narrow streets, which separated his
home front one of the main thor
oughfares of wist London. A ‘bus
conveyed him within a short distance
of Charing Cross, and a second 'bus
carried him thence westward. It wag
ill when he turned down a darkish
lane which passed along behind the
! well-known house in which Lord
i Ernest Sinclair sometimes, as a
i change from the monotony of cham
i hers, was wont to reside. How it
j chanced that about half-way down the
I lane, in the darkest part, there hap
j pened to be a hole in the wall, I do
1 not know. It was not a large hole;
| merely enough to give a footing to a
; strong toe. But the wall was not
! very high,, and Mr. Hawkins was over
; the wall and sitting in Lord Ernest's
summerhouse within twenty seconds
| of the time when he turned into the
; lane. So far, so good. But Mr. Haw
' kins knew very well that the hardest
: part of his task was yet to come. He
I had to get into the house; that was
i fairly simple to a man of Mr. Hawkins’
I resourecfulness. Then he had to open
the door of the room in which he
found himself when he had entered
by the windows. It might or it
might not be locked. Next there was
a short flight of steps. Then another
door; and, lastly, the safe-like cabinet
in which Lord Ernest kept his gems.
It will be seen that Mr. Hawkins’
knowledge of the geography of the
house was both extensive and peculiar.
His method of obtaining this knowl
edge is his own secret. But a
shrewd observer would hazard a guess
as to its source if he were informed
that Mr. Hawkins had a friend who
was walking out with one of the
maids in the house, and that this
friend had no more than one occa
sion been entertained to supper in
the lower regions of the house. It
was just past 11 when Mr. Hawkins
sat down in the dark summerhouse.
From that time until half-past one he
sat silent and motionless. Twice he
heard heavy and regular footsetps in
the lane, and grinned slightly at the
humor of the situation. At 12 o’clock
he saw the last light visible in the
house go out. At 1:30 he heard the
chime from a clock near at hand—
he rose and stretched himself. Then
he took from a capacious inner pocket
of his coat a pair of goloshes. These
he tied on his feet over his boots. A
pair of rubber gloves went on to his
hands, and he stepped noislessly to
the summerhouse door and listened.
All was dark and silent as the grave.
In twenty seconds he was across the
lawn and standing by the window at
which he meant to enter. Again his
hand went to his pocket. This time
he drew out a small lead phial and a
large lump of putty. Reaching up to
the square of glass above the top of
the lower frame, he quickly fashion
ed a neat cup of putty round the cor
ner of the glass nearest the hasp in
side, in somewhat as a martine shapes
WANTED—A MAN
He must be a man with the punch.
He most be able to take hold of an office chair
and an office desk and increase their efficiency
by 20 per cent.
He must be full of ideas. Not visionary, “look
good-on-paper'' ideas, but good practical ideas,
the kind that work; and he must have executive
ability to carry them out successfully. There is
a big salary waiting for the man who can fill the
job. There are many high-class positions ad
vertised in Herald want ads. Many which you
could fill with satisfaction.
If firms keep advertising these good positions
and you don't read the want ads every day, then
you don't deserve success.
Turn over to the “help wanted” ads now.
Read them today and every day and answer the
ones that look good to you. Begin today.
NOTE—This is an especially effective season
for the insertion of “situation wanted” ads. Jan
uary Ist is the time when the most changes are
made and many firms are now “lookingaround”
for good men to fill good positions which will
be open then.
her nest against a house-wall. Into
this cup he emptied the contents of
the lead phial; then he waited pa
tiently for nearly half an hour.
At the end of that time he felt the
glass Inside the putty cup with a
piece of wire hooked at the end. As
he expected, the acid had eaten
through the glass, and it was easy to
slip the wire into the hole, hook it
around the catch, and, with’ a little
manipulation, put the catch over
Inch by inch, without a sound, the
lower frame rose, and silently Mr.
Hawkins hoisted himself on to the sill
and into the room. A small electric
torch came from his pocket, and with
this he took his bearings, noting care
fully a chair that stood between him
and the passage and up the five stairs
at the end of it. Four steps from the
head of the stairs he turned to the
right and felt along the wall for the
handle of the door which he knew
was there. He turned the knob each
w»ay and pressed gently, but it was
no use; the door was locked; Out
came the torch again, and a short in
spection showed that the lock was
but an ordinary one. Ordinary locks
were not proof against the persuasive
methods of Mr. Hawkins. Three min
utes he fiddled in the lock w’ith a
bent nail, then he tried a shorter and
thicker nail from his waistcoat rocket.
There was a tiny clock, the door
swung inwards, and Mr. Haw’kins fol
-1 lowed it.
For a second the light from his
torch flickered across the opposite
wall and showed him a recess, about
six feet broad and four feet deep in
which stood a safe. It was in this
safe that the big jewel-cabinet was
locked every night—so Mr. Hawkins
understood. Lightly he stepped
across the room and stood by the safe
in the recess. His hand went again
lo his waistcoat pocket, and this time
he drew out a ring with three cu
rious shaped kevs on it—new keys,
as was evident by the file marks that
still shone on them.
As he drew out the ward of one
key caught on the edge of his pocket,
and the ring of keys fell to the
ground with a clink which, slight
though it was, seemed magnified by .
the utter silence into a tremendous
clatter. For quite five minutes Mr.
Hawkins stood absolutely still. For
at least one minute he heard his own
heart beating against his ribs. How- [
ever, his nerves were in good order,
and after counting slowly up to three
hundred, he decided that his luck was
in, and, stooping down, groped till
he found the keys. With his left
hand he guided a key into the lock
hole of the safe and turned it slow-ly.
Half an inch or more it turned with
out opposition. Then it met with a
lirm obstruction, and for all his
humoring he could turn it no more.
Sighing gently, he wi*hdrew the key
and fingered the second one into po
sition at the lock-hole. Even as he
turned it, there was a clash and a
clang behind him. and he felt that
something had moved quickly at the
mouth of the recess.
But again he stood for quite five
minutes before he moved, though this
TUESDAY, JANUARY 20.
time his mouth was dry and his heart
hammered all the time at his side.
Then he put out his hand, and his
heart seemed to stop. There was a
curtain of cold iron bars across the
recess. Dropping the keys into his
pocket, he faced about and felt cau
tiously at the trellis-work of iron.
At one side he found that it came out
of the wall, at the other it touched
the wall, and though he pulled with
consederable strength he could not
move it an inch. However, his fer
tile brain was already revolving half
a dozen possibilities of escape when
a new horror presnted itself. The
floor-safe, Mr. Hawkins, iron-grating
and all began to rise slowly.
Those readers who can remember
their sensations on first going up ill
an elevator—how they felt as if some
important part of their inside arrange
ments had been left below —will be
able to realize a little of what Mr,
Hawkins felt. Every separate hair on
his head seemed to stand up strrfght
as the cage moved slowly upwards.
Then there was a slight jar and the
cage came to rest In complete dark
ness. Mr, Hawkins ran through a
cunning collection of sanguinary re
marks—and cautiously felt over the
iron grating again. As he groped at
the corner to find a possible lever
age for his jemmy, there was a clicS
and the cage was flooded with light.
For a second or two the prisoner wai
quite dazzled. When he could see
clearly, he gaped in astonishment.
The iron grating faced a large and
comfortable bed room, at the end of
which was the bed. fe'itting up in
this with a smile on his face was
Lord Ernest Sinclair.
“Good evening,” he said unbanely;
“you must be the man I w r as expect
ing. Inspector Homes is coming
round to meet you at G o'clock. As
I have had litt'e sleep so far. I must
beg of you to rema'n reasonably quiet
till then. There is a stool to sit on,
and you will find a box of cigars un
derneath the stool. Have you some
matches? Good! I shall take the
precaution of letting down the iron
curtain in case you are foolish enough
to carry firearms. Good night!”
There was a rattle and a clang as
an iron curtain came down from above
and fitted inside the bars. Left in
complete darkness, Mr, Hawkins re
signed himself to his fate, and with a
philosophical calm worthy of better
things stretched out his hand for the
cigar-box.
Jones met his neighbor, Smith.
"You were shooting this morning?”
asked Smith.
"Yes, I had to kill my dob,” an
swered Jones.
“Was he mad?” asked Smith.
"Well,” said Jones, “he didn't seem
any too well pleased.”
“Who is that on the bench with the
the Judge?
“That is the judicial surgeon. Be
tween them they decide whether a man
needs an operation on his head or six
months in jail.”—Rt. Paul Dispatch.