Newspapers / The Charlotte Observer (Charlotte, … / Jan. 8, 1911, edition 1 / Page 15
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- V RIS w'o uld pa wn her s-nil f(ir a rare jewel. Tiieretbrc, the fol- tucked ‘'vay in a popular 1 ^n'isian pa per,proved ~ ^ood itress work, ' i'A- the fact leaked out has 'I l-\-med: ■? N-wVirk, '=:t.pping at the >v, will v.f.ir tl'.e Koval Ruby in lier tomorrow at ihc opening night chr.red gem was recently purchased • - from tlie Hey ot Tunis, by her \.mer;. ,n .:.\pitalist.” ciirv'sity seekers, held in : - -I Paris, road 'id c in>f..red at the per- T-:■? to witness the !;-I'l ''■'f ilu' jewel. They iM-rks . nd stared at the -'.'uinil stai;e-box, tor in- !'•) 1 ''ozed oui ihi.t this K‘il I A, an I the knowl- ■''■- .id rapii.lly through the 'u' e'Mr.r'? Thar, wns ihe -ill sv !• \\ oi’id s]ie '■‘1 .. ier this ad\’criise- •' '^-le w :• Ih -ut i;, or siav at - '' 1 lie k \*al Riibv v/ouid ’'.lie ^'t n'.ind had been ■ ■ 1 i ;.\ y I'lush curtains ai • th.* \\\!t ;'l'e.' i )ux su;idenly ’ ’-i r f: ihcr u.-ihered Miss M ! -. ■ tlh' box, removed her ■ >-ltiak, tinvw it over the ''' all. an>l handed her to • \i'\-t ' hn St,'ip,''. I lundrefls hi.s' ^lass.'s Jiotcd the , ; r 1 curi'’sii v-seel:in" 1 l^r.'.'tth as Miss Hlondell thi' pin ticjhtly secunnj:^ the 1* I-bo.v >ni and tlirew tliC ’ irom '"irr nock, revealint^ 1 Ruby, scintillatinj^ in tlie ^'itin" of a white satin ■’T ar. inslant. J'-r* n'luhitutle of ev: •; wa^'. >r. tM'' V''n« irons pen.';;mt, ' ' i hir .]d ch dn ;■;> .ir- lier • I’.ifn-iell ler:ni.'(i sligiUly t'j- ■ I'ai'-t t'> ^mak. A- ni;.: 'i.iif oi the biv;ithl('ss ' ^ t:r’t’i‘d to tiK' sii^^lit >:p I'-'r ri^'it sh'nhK-r. : ui':;^u'd I'i>r a nionK'nt ’ 'a ' K' ''’ d I\u! >y dn ‘D slid .-11 l’;. ;>eve'- d I'liain and 1 - V ;i^ ht b('l( t'v t!ie brass i- ;/ the upiiolslered cn- X. . • !' ••n-j nsed gasps came : ^ 'i'a low curious •• tt from a'.C(-nt k'- "I'l .1 >11'-* at the far end of llie t ' tbi‘ Hlondells’, wlio had r‘. See with the rest, *' i! m-'n ent Mr. Plondell ' ' ■’ (>nd of chain r ]•-Ilia in bis dau!;hter’s ■ 'n'!i! (l as wax-white as the whicii was duly reojis- '.unitreds of eyes behind ! iroment the i^irl nii-sed * Ifd u].' the chain, and lu^' klv to the fl'tor. 1 - ■ ■ ' ’■ ;*n 1 sat down,’' she . f d ' ••• in a low tone, which ’ : t'/n.^e ear-instruments ol r b ■ i'Ti'd to the floor!” cried d'■ awed audience in y to their excitement '■! :ii relievins:^ the situation, il ' BLI’^i^'llnndhisdaughter tarrhing tlu* hardwood il r U.'Ct. The head usher ■V n thf' ]»'issa,‘:(eway to ihe i'll' sir';dr c^entleman in the 'V!'!' r of the adjoining box 1* \() lulp. But Blondell r.a* small dixjr and warned U' Ikt. V-hile his daughter up- Jk- chairs and shook out her • no S!V! ill :irticle to lo.se. A 1 ruby of fifty-eight and :iti.'i' ‘‘(iriiLs, tne siiL^e of a ■/V. bigger than the ball to an b’i :.;:k hat ])in, and not quite ; 1 a ch'iTy, with a ring im- it d (* to]), through which the ' 1 'lipped. his hack to the curtain, pre- ■ >^,t.vnc(', lilondell, his face ! a,niied the Hx)r. which slanted iu upholstered enclosure jutting ''it. »f the audicncc. in their excite- in'tl to points of vantaj?e along the i ' rutini/icd every movement of ill I he box. One man in the main iWN body of the theatre, quite near the Blon- dells, rose in his seat and giv. e a cjuick sign \\hich attracted the capitalist’s attention. ■^A look of recogniLion lighted up his face and he cried in a tense tone; Pod Poe!’' A second later, “Come here! The man who had made the motion tucued his hat under his arm and sauntered up the aisle, turned into the passageway to the box and edged 1 hrough tho.se crowding for a look, with aji air of quiet authority. This is Mr. Poe, Christopher Poc,” her father introduced in a flurried tone. “ You have heard me speak of him. He is the banker.’’ “Oh, 3’es; so glad to know 3’ou. You saw the stone drop just now?” the girl asked quickly, her c}'es still searching. “\es; but, really, thvrc is no use look ing,” Pc^’s tone po.^sessed a strange fmalitv. He bent to remove the light chain of line gold which still clung to the gardenia, and made a casual e.\amination of it. “Nipped otT with a pair of pliers.” he smiled. “A common trick, easily executed by fifty men in Paris. Your tiglitly pinned scari prevented it from dropping or being j-tolcn in the crowd. You felt nothing, I si.pposc, on the way from the carriage to th? “nlrance?” this last to Miss Blondell. ‘'I was a bit anxious,” she admitted, turning up her flushed face. “I pressed the jewel tightly through the scarf. Now that you speak of it, 1 did fell son s.^*ng cold touch the back of my neck tor an instant, but I felt quickly for the chain and found it safe, only protruding slightly above my scarf in the back.*’ "And already revered by n pair of pliers conccaled in u clever liand,’’ added Poe. “ It has hai'>pened often, tliis nipping. You ^vere pressing the stone with your hand on the scarf. 'I'ne thief knew he could not get the gem in the crowd; he \vaited for you to^ unpin the scarf when you were safe in the box and oil your guard. The stone slid down and dropped the moment you threw the wrap back and leaned forv.ard; but naturally, you did not notice it at the exact instant of fr.lling; several seconds passed before the discovery, and that was all the thief needed.” “Absurd!” lau£rhed Miss Blondell. “You don’t mean that the thing is stolen. It’s surely here somewhere. Pl couldn’t have disappeared from the box in that instant.'’ “CerUainly no person sa'ic it disapj^car,” n’plix'd Poe. “I Wi'.s watching tlie curtain my.= ..lf, it did not move. "I here was no one in tlic par.sageway behind the box and surely na thief inside it.” “Then how' could the stone hove dii- af)]:>cared?” cricd the ^rl. “You can see ai a g!.:nce there are no cracks or crevices it could have slipped through or l(;d-,'cd in.” “ I'haL's the only assurance 1 ha\ e that it is stolen,’’ answered Poe, bending his short waist and picking a small sj)linLcr of wood, not a quarter of an inch long, from the leg of a chair near the doorv.ay. l>ut it’s absurd to think that anyone could ha\'c stolen the jewel in the second it dropped to the floor before I stooped to find it.” “It couldn’t have bounced up three feet and over onto the stage, it couldn't have been picked up by the gentiemaa in the adjoini]'.gbox—” Poe st0])ped abruptly, Ins brows shot up on liis forehead and t^ie satincal wrinkles again ap])cared, joining the corners of his nostrils and lips. He had glanccd toward thi^ other box and found it empty. For a second he fingered the splin ter of wood in his pocket, the wrinkles deepening and his eyes fixed. Turning short he said in a low tone to Eiondell, “Wait for me at Palais d'Orsay,’’ then he bowed absently to the girl, ducked through the plush curtains and hurried out an exit. As he sat in a cab five minutes later, on his way to a music hall in Rue dc Clichy, Christopher Poe looked and acted more like a bored Frenchman in search of pleasure than anything else. Had the Jehu v;ho drove known the truth about his fare he would hax’C been more particular in his work, and would never have dared to juggle with the little taximeter at his side. But only two men really knev; Poe. His friends knew only that he had more money than he could spend; that he was one of the six vice-presidents of the Manhattan National Bank, and director in several others. Burns and Mitchell were the two who knew him >vell and they marvelled at the man. To them alone was it known that Poe gave practically his entire time to running down bank crooks. His position at the Man hattan was honorary, he was what they call a “stop-gap,” drawing no salary and work ing unth the bank rather than for it. This allowed him the leisure to indulge, often with Burris and Mitchell, in tracking down bank thieves. Poe’s criminal knowledge wa*' greater than any living man s. It ^^as said of him by Bcirns and Mitchell and the few officials in the Bankers’ Protective Association who guessed at Poe’s quiet work that he was as familiar with the haunts of “peter” men and safe-blowers as he was with the art centers of Europe. ^ On this occasion Poe was merely enjoymg a vacation in Paris and had stumbled ^^to an interesting crime, an attempt at the solution of which he could not ^esist. The cab dropped him. before a popular Clichy music hall, and he stepped into the m.anager's small ofnce in front. “I want the names of all the legerdemain performers on your circuit. Only those not working now; any act out of the ordinary, Monsieur Fleury,” he said, having shaken hands cordially v/ith the fnendly little Frenchmaji at the desk, and having left a hundred-franc note in the man’s palm. head and bulging eyes, helping to support the flabby bridge of a bent nose, peered out. Seeing that the visitor was a gentleman, with an expression not unlike a concert hall man, Torche invited him in, with a bow, and the greeting in his native tongue. * “ I am intruding, Torche? Y"ou are quite alone?” asked Poe, quickly sca.nning the man’s face. “Quite alone,” answered Torche, with ■J THE ALLOWED POE TO GIVE A STRANGE LITTLE WHLSTLB “Monsieur Poe always paj’s so well,” smiled the nianager, pocketing the note, taking down a huge index and beginning to jot down names and addresses rapidly, “You want sv.'ord-swallowcrs, snake- charmers, card-fakers; all the curious ones in Paris?” “Exactly, if they can do sleiglit-of-hand as well,” ansv;ered Poe, idly toying with the splinter from the chair and removing several particles from it to examine in detail w’ith the aid of a little pocket magnifier. A con fidence gleamed in those strange eyes and his lips moved expressi^•ely. In ten minutes’ time the manager pene trated Poe’s abstraction and they ran over the list together, Poe asking particularl}’’ concerning the act of each performer. “This man Torche?” he exclaimed, his finger suddenly stopping at the name. “ He has bulging eyes, a prominent forehead and can dress like a gentleman on the stage?” “Exactly!” cried the French manager. “Y^ou know him?” “Not yet,” smiled Christopher Poe, the satirical v/rinkles from his lips deepening for the moment. “You have seen him then, surely?” “I believe so. His act is clever, you say?” “He is a very wizard at both of his special ties I told you of,” replied the manager. “He is not well liked. He is too cunning.” Poe w-aited for no further particulars, but thanked the manager, stepped through the door, purchased a bag of luscious red cher ries from a street vender, got into the/wait ing cab and gave the driver Torche’s ad dress. During the two-mile drive to an obscure street off Rue Saint Jacques, in the Latin quarter, Christopher Poe leaned back in the cab, consuming the cherries and holding telegraphic converse ^^•ith himself. The cab stopped at the out-of-the-way address shortly, and Poe( telling the cabby to wait, jumped down and selected the handle from a cord under the painted numeral IV on the door-step. There was a noise inside. A match scratched. The door swung open and a tliin, hatchet face with a prominent fore evident relief, glancing toward the closet door. Poe took a profTered chair and went to the point at once: “I am an Englishman, as you perceive from my looks rather than my accent, for I have spent my life among the concert people here. Llonsieur Fleur>' w^as so good as to suggest that you can do clever w^ork. I am opening a concert hall on the Clichy and he suggests that you do legerdemain for me.” “Legerdemain, ah!” the prominent eyes of the other brightened; he threw’ a slip of paper into the air, snatched up a keen- bladcd knife that lay on a box beside a loaf of bread and cut the dropping paper into six clean pieces, while it was still in the air, so swiftly that Poe’s eyes were deceived, and it seemed to be done in a single stroke. Bravo!’’ he cried. “'Y'ou have other acts as well. The trained pigeons, the white mice, Monsieur Fleury suggested.” “I have given them up. They do not pay now. Too many people train mice. It is nothing!” answered the other, the con ceited grin on his face giving way to the creep of a crafty gleam. “I’ll tell you! Did you ever think of training a rat?” cried Christopher Poe, as if with sudden inspiration, not failing to note the sudden change in Torche. The defiant look in Torche’s face broke dow n a little and he seemed nervous as there came a second w^arning creak from the closet door. Poe made no move, but held his breath, feeling the air of suspicion and ready for the slightest surprising twist in the scene. “A rat! A capital idea!” laughed the concert performer. “I will try it.” His tone had become disagreeable and harsh^ “If you make good with your training come to me through Monsieur Fleury and the two hundred francs a week are yours.” Poe rose quickly as though the inter view were ended and started tow'ard the door. Torche hesitated, seemed to waver be tween two desires, and finally advanced close to Poe and asked in a tone that ap peared anxious: “The sleight-of-hand alone will not do?” “No, I’m afiaid not,” Poe had halfway opened the door. Torche had drawn strangely close, edging a little to one side, tow’ard the knife which he had throw^n back beside the bread. “ir/ra/ is that?’' cried Poe,pointing over Torche’s shoulder to the closet door and assuming a look of horror. Torche, throv. n ofl his guard by the sim ple trick, turned on his heel with a hiss and stared at the closet door, his hand instinc- ti\’cly seeking the knife beside him. The door had not moved, but the ruse allowed Poe to give a strange little whistle, almost unnoticed; a w^histle curiously like that which had issued from the lips of the single man sitting at the far end of the box next to the Blondells’ at the Chatelet. At that instant, while Torche’s gaze was still fixed on the closet door, a pink nose and tvvo glassy eyes peeped out from beneath the left leg of the performer’s flapping trousers and Poe dropped one of the bright red cherries, from the bag he had purchased, v/ithin a foot or two of the animal.^ W ith a sw'ift sw'oop the sleek rat pounced upon the cherry, clutched it between its teeth and, like a flash, darted up the trou sers leg agahi. Christopher Poe stood with a cynical sm.ile deeply grooved in his hard cheeks. With a. guttural snarl, Torche sprang to action, clutchcd the knife in a leap and dashed on Poe, onl)’^ to find a steady revol ver aimed between his eyes and the cool voice of Poe demanding: “Give me the Royal Ruby!'* ^‘Sa majestc diaboliaue! Le diahle!’’ hissed Torche, backing from the gun, the whites of his eyes rolling and his hands quivering up like the rays of heat from a stove, with stead}^ motion. “ Y^ou have the secret. Y'ou saw me in the box to-night!” His agony-strained fingers, still clutching the knife, had quivered up above his head and with a sudden twist he jerked the whole force of liis bcdy behind the blade and crashed it down upon his adversary'. Be fore Poe could puli the trigger a large wo man leaped on him from behind with a bestial snarl and bowled him to the floor, tiie knife hurtling into the closet from Vv'hich the w oman had burst forth unnoticed. In the struggle that followed, the French j)air fought like savages, Poe’s revolver was lacked from liis hand, and Torche suddenly leaped after it, gi\ing Poe the chance to twist from beneath the woman with a wrestling trick and dash through the door to the head of the stairs, where Torche had stooped to pick up the rev'olver. Before Poe could grasp Torche the wo man hurled herself upon him again, and in the turmoil that followed the stooping Torche lost his balance and hurtled down the rickety flight of steps; near the bottom the body crashed through the rotten rail and Poe trembled at the sound of an agonizing screairf, as the man slipped through the opening between the balus trades and dropped with a kicking clatter to the main floor, four stories below. The woman stiffened up and released her hold on Poe as she listened in aw'ful silence, the muscles in her face stretched tense with horror. In that instant Poe recognized her as an Apache, dyed in criminality, whom he had encountered before. She returned to the fight like a lioness, but Poe managed to skilfully bind her ankles and wrists with the cord torn from her dressing gow-n.- He left her struggling on the door-sill, moaning, ‘'Udicble Poe!” and snatchkig at the cord with her teeth. She wriggled through the doorway into the room, and struggled toward one corner, hissing \ile oaths at Poe meantime, who stood with his arms folded, watching her direction intently. Finding that she was surely edging to ward a rickety desk in the corner, Poe antic ipated her effort, stepped to the crazy piece of furniture and picked up several articles, one after another, the w^oman w'atching him with greedy, cat-like eyes. Suddenly his hand encountered a long stemmed, deep-bowled clay pipe, filled with fresh tobacco. A hiss of pent-up breath greeted his movement and he turned with a keen look at the woman. Her face had be come as stone, and not a single feature be trayed her. Christopher Poe smiled, dropped the pipe into a loose outside pocket with satis faction in his manner, dusted his clothes, raised his hat to the woman who had sud denly slumped into a sobbing bundle, and remarked: “Good-night, Mignon; the po lice will call upon you soon.” Poe felt his way do^^Ti the long, dark stair way. The whole house had been raised by Torche’s plunge and Poe found three ex cited members of the gendarmerie adminis tering first aid. They stopped long enough to seize him as a stranger, at the advic« of the regular lodgers in the house; but Poe only smiled, turned back Torche’s left trousers leg, showed the astonished police the big trick rat, still warm, but dead, in a cleverly-contrived pocket, its hMne, where it had remained until the end. After a few significant sent«ttces whis pered to the poKceman in command, Poe was allowed to depart and eater the waiting cab, directing the astonished driver to takd him to the Palais d’Orsay. Fifteen minutes later he walked into the Blondell svdte and w^as greeted by father ' and daughter with the eager question: “Well? Have you got the Royal Rub}’?’* for something in his usually impenetrable face bore a trace of success. j “I’m not quite certain,” he answered, stepping to the center table and taking the long-stemmed clay pipe from his pocket. Before the astonished eyes of the watchers he tapped the bowl of the pipe against his palm and some of the tobacco dropped out. At the second tap a glittering stone rolled’ from the big bowl. Poe picked it up and handed it to Miss Blondell. . “ The Royal Ruby!” she cried. ,. “Quite intact!” he answered, “in spite of being carricd in a rat’s mouth, and hidden in a pipe bowl. An ingenious gentleman, your thief.” They pressed him for explanations. “W^ell,” said Christopher Poe, vdth some hesitation, running a slim hand through his' tufty hair, in a characteristic movement,. “I didn’t have time to ask for the details. But here are a few rough suggestions^. Your imagination will supply easily anyr thing that may be missing. Torche, a con cert performer,withawonderful trained rat, has an exacting mistress of criminal record. She reads that the Royal Ruby is to be ’ w’orn at the Chatelet. Together the pair evolve a schcme to secure* the jewel for the: vanity of Mignon, the mistress.” “ Yes,” the Elondells breathed eagerly. “They have forty-eight hours in which to train the rat to pounce at once on any rouncb / glittering, red thing. Torche lias trained ^ him to retrieve l)y smell and sight, before. - A rat’s senue of smell is stronger than its sight, but this one has bce^ taught to dis-^ tinguish colors in performing. “ Torche goes to the Chatelet, easily learns v.’hich is the Blondells’ box and secures the one next to it. To-night, the rat being letter-perfect, he takes him in the pocket . built in one baggy trousers leg, as he carries him continually, on and off the stage. He goes early to the performance, vraits for the ' Blondell carriage, stuniblefj against Mr^ Blondell and, with a sleight- of-hand motion, cleverly clips the chain shouing above your " scarf. Knowing that you vail ba\ e secured the scarf so the stone will not drop until you remove it, or seeing your hand »)ver the. stone and realizing the fc’lly of getting av. ay . with it in the crowd, he hurries ahead of you into the cpera-hou^e and is just in time to' drop the well-trained rat beside ihe curtain to your box, which joins that to his, and push the animal in with a dexterous shove of his foot, himself concealed from the audience by the plush curtain. The rat seeks the dark corner by the stage; Torche has practised the thing well by dropping the rat in the closet to his ov;n room and throw ing a cherry first, and then a paste ruby in to him, teaching the animal to seize the glitter ing bit of red at the signal of a low whistle w’hich he uses on the stage. The rat grabs ■ the jewel and runs for its home in Torche’s trousers leg, guided by sense of smell.” “ But that sounds impossible! ” cried Miss Blondell. “ Not when one considers that the rat has been trained for years and was particularly instructed for this performance. Of course, Torche took a big chance at failure all around. His chances of success were about one in six, but there was slight danger of detection, and the game was worth the candle. The very boldness of the plan made it successful.” “How did you find out all this?” cried Blondell, his eyes bulging with interest.^ “What w^as the clue you picked up from the floor in the box? ” “Only a splinter from a chair leg, with a few' hairs clinging to it,” smiled Poe. “When!, the rat made his hasty exit he bumped! against the chair and several of his hairs were torn off and held by the splinter. l! suspected they w^ere the hairs of a small I animal and on examining them felt certain,] by the color and bristly texture, that they w’ere the hairs of a rat or mouse. So I put two and two together, secured a list of con cert performers from a theatrical friend, and found one who had trained mice and a. rat. I took a chance and called on him^' after asking the description of the jjerformer and finding that it tallied exactly with the man in the box next to yours, whose strange whistle I had noticed and connected with the peculiar signals usually given by animal trainers to their pets. ‘ ‘ It was all quite too simple. I found the. man Torche and used theS^ait of offering an engagement, knowing that he would be glad of w’ork, to avert possible suspicion^ from himself. It was quite too easy," though a little out of the banking line. . Even Torche felt that I had seen through the game and tried to knife me when I re ferred to his rat. Poor fellow, he’ll prob ably get a life sentence for trying to satisfy Mignon’s vanity. It was the folly of a. lover. The stone would have been traced in time, anyway, imless they intended to"^^ cut it up and sell it. You can be quite sure, there is always a woman behind every jewel mystery.”
The Charlotte Observer (Charlotte, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Jan. 8, 1911, edition 1
15
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