_Specialty--Dealing in Real Estate, Effecting Loans, and
Securing Advances on Cotton._
Office, 34 Pine Street, N. Y. City.
"Pardon me that I give you my business card; I find I have no other
about me."
"Ah, Mr. Dubois! I am sure I am very glad to know you as Bob McDonald's
friend. Tell me when you last saw him. How was he? Jolly fellow--isn't
he? Take some wine with us? and your friend, too; he'll join us?"
Harry was nothing loth to accept the wine. He was making splendid
progress, he doubtless thought; and joining in the wine, he said, "You
asked when I last saw Bob. Well, when he was here in New York, three
months ago, on his way to Hamilton, Canada, he was my guest for a week,
at the Metropolitan, where I board."
"Just so," said Mr. Hale. "Bob wrote us at that time from Canada. I am
sorry I did not go on there when he was there. He was well as usual
then, I suppose, and just as full of the 'Old McDonald'" (for his
father was a great old sport) "as ever, eh?"
I saw that Harry was making smooth inroad into the affections of these
gentlemen, and wondered what would be the result. Mr. Hale treated to
cigars. Harry refused, saying, that with permission he would smoke a
cigarette,--pulling a box from his pocket,--commented on the habit
which he had learned in Cuba, when he was attached, as he said, to the
United States legation there, and quite took the Savannah gentleman
aback with his delicate manipulation of the dainty cigarette. Harry's
mastery of good manners seemed to completely win the Southern
gentlemen, and Harry's friend too, though less elegant than he, was no
"slouch" of a fellow in appearance.
The next act of the play had begun before the gentlemen had finished
their cigars and chat, and Mr. Hale said to his friend Clemens,
"Wouldn't Mary be delighted to meet so intimate a friend of her cousin
Bob? Mr. Dubois, I spoke of McDonald as my cousin; so he is by
marriage; but he is cousin by blood to my wife, and she likes him above
all her kin. Wouldn't you and your friend do us the honor to accompany
us to our box, where our wives now are?"
"With the greatest pleasure," said Harry, suiting the action to the
word, and away they started for the box. I lost no time in getting back
to my seat, on the way depositing my spectacles and false nose in a
side pocket.
From what I afterwards learned from Mr. Hale, he delightedly presented
Harry to his wife, as an intimate friend of her cousin Bob; and it was
evident to me that Harry was making as sure victory of the esteem of
Mrs. Hale, and the other lady, Mrs. Clemens, as he had of their
husbands. He laughed and chatted with the ladies to their evident
delight. They could not have heard much of the second act, so busily
were they engaged with him--gentlemen and ladies both. I noticed that
Harry was not lacking, on that occasion, in a good degree of
effrontery, mingled with his polite manners, which fact was assurance
to me that he had formed some plan of operations already, but what it
would be I could not conjecture. I saw more or less display of jewelry,
Harry taking a splendid solitaire diamond from his finger, and
evidently telling some story about it. But eventually, as the act was
drawing to a close, I discovered that Mr. Clemens had taken from his
finger a very costly ring, which, as the sequel proved, he had bought
at Anthony's the day before, for fifteen hundred dollars, to take as a
present to his brother, then studying medicine in Harvard College,
whither Mr. Clemens and his lady were about going. All was very
jubilant in the box as the act drew to a close, and there was a clatter
in the box--the gentlemen laughing, and the ladies shaking their fans
at them, as if half menacingly forbidding them to go out, evidently
begging them to stay, and so forth. But Harry, according to the story I
learned afterwards, kindly assured the ladies that he would return with
his new "charge" all duly and "soundly," which the ladies interpreted
to mean soberly, and they let them go.
Harry left the box, the last of the gentlemen, and as he did so,
foolishly waved his hand in parting, at the ladies; and the mystery was
at once unravelled to me, for on his finger was what I took to be, knew
to be, that new, flashing ring of Mr. Clemens.
I hastened to the refreshment-room. I saw at once the flush of victory
on Harry's face, and watched him intently.
He was very brilliant in conversation, and very generous; insisted on
"treating" all the while himself. Wouldn't allow Mr. Hale or his friend
to call for anything, etc.
The time for the next act coming on, the gentlemen, not a little
"warmed up" with the numerous glasses of wine they had taken, returned
to their box, and I to my place, replacing my spectacles in my side
pocket.
I had been a little delayed in getting back to my place by a crowd
gathered around a lady who had fainted, and when I resumed my seat, and
looked into the box, what was my astonishment at not finding Harry
there. I saw that Mrs. Clemens was very serious about something, while
the rest seemed very much excited; meanwhile, Harry's friend seemed
engaged in some sort of wonder-looking protestations, for he _looked_
astonished, and was putting one hand very emphatically upon the palm of
the other. The whole thing flashed upon me. I saw that there was no
time to lose; and I left my seat, and proceeded directly to the
refreshment-room, in time to find Mr. Hale and his friend there,
eagerly inquiring of the bar-keeper if "Mr. Dubois" had returned there;
if he had seen him since they went up last time to the box, and sundry
other hurried queries. The bar-keeper had not seen him; no clew could
they get to him; and Mr. Hale said, "Clemens, you are 'done for,' sure.
That's one of those arch scamps we read of. He's borrowed that ring,
and we'll never see it again."
"Let's find a policeman, and put him on the track," said Clemens.
"Foolishness," said Mr. Hale; "no policeman can track that fellow. He's
too keen; besides, who knows but he'll take the train for Philadelphia
or somewhere. I don't believe he lives here. Here's his card, to be
sure, but who knows that it's not a fraud? Let's hunt the directory,"
and the bar-keeper brought forward the desired directory. No "Harry
Clarkson Dubois" was to be found in it. The gentlemen looked confounded
and dejected, and Hale said, "Well, Clemens, let's go back to the
ladies. They've more wit than we. You know what your wife said. If we'd
taken her advice perhaps we should have got out from here in time to
catch the villain," and so they sauntered back.
I did not feel like making myself known to them. They might take me,
perhaps, as Harry's coöperator, and so I silently watched them leave.
Turning the matter over in my mind a moment, I resolved upon the best
course to pursue. Harry must be come upon that night if I were to
succeed with him, I saw. I had known his lodging-room three months
before, but had heard he had changed quarters; where to hunt him was
the point. I bethought me of a boarding-house keeper in West 13th
Street, with whom Harry once boarded, and who, not knowing his real
character, had great respect for him, and whom, too, Harry evidently
really respected, for I had been told that he always spoke of her in
terms of admiration. I fancied she would be as apt as any one to know
where were his quarters, and I took a carriage, and drove immediately
to her house. Fortunately she was at home; and on inquiring of her if
she could tell me where I could find Mr. Dubois the next morning, for I
did not let her know my haste, she said that she guessed I'd be most
apt to find him in his office in Pine Street, No. 34; that he had
applied to her for board two days before, with which she could not
accommodate him for a week or so to come; so he said he would sleep on
a lounge in his office, and take his meals out till she could give him
quarters, and that the day before he sent up for blankets, with which
she had supplied him.
My plan was complete. Hurrying away from her house, I ordered the
driver to push straight for my rooms, where, arming myself completely,
I drove on as far as the post office, when, ordering the driver to
await my return, I alighted, and proceeded to 34 Pine Street. As it
chanced, next door was the office of my friend, the late Simeon Draper,
and I was not a little pleased to find a light there, and one of his
clerks and another man looking over some papers, as I saw through the
window. Tapping on the door, it was readily unlocked, and I said to the
clerk, who recognized me, "No questions asked; but let _me_ inquire if
you are going to be here for fifteen minutes longer?"
[Illustration: RECOVERING THE DIAMOND RING.]
"Yes, for an hour, perhaps."
"Well, I may call again."
"Do so--are you after a 'bird'?" asked the clerk, with a knowing wink
in his eye; for he very quickly divined that I was on some detective
mission; for Mr. Draper had been a frequent patron of mine, and often
sent this clerk to me on business.
I closed the door, and ran up two flights of stairs to "Dubois's" room,
and immediately rapped upon the door.
No noise within--all silence! Had the bird flown? I thought not. I
believed he was there. Again I rapped.
"Who's there?" asked a half-sleepy voice.
I replied, "O! you're asleep, Mr. Dubois--are you? Well, no matter.
It's a case of exigency. I knew you were here; saw you as you came in;
and there's a man fainted away in Draper's office, and I'm alone with
him, and want you, if you will, to watch him while I run for a doctor.
Don't mind to dress yourself more than half--come quickly," and I
started away rapidly down stairs, and returned as rapidly, and rapping
on the door again, exclaimed, "Get ready, and run down as quick as you
can, while I go for a doctor. The door's unlocked; but see here, he may
revive, and want some stimulus. Here's the key to the back closet.
There's a bottle of brandy there. Here, take it."
The unsuspicious Harry opened the door slightly to take the key, when I
pushed in. On his finger gleamed that very ring. He was but half
dressed, coat off, a muscular fellow, and just in trim for fighting. I
saw the situation, and pulling out a pistol, clapped it to his face,
and extending my left hand, said, "It's no use, Harry; give me Mr.
Clemens' ring without any noise, or I'll call the officers at the door
below."
Harry was never before so confounded; protested he had no ring but his
own.
"We'll see," said I. "Mr. Hale will be here in a moment. If he comes,
it's all day with you. He can identify the ring, and--so--can--I. Give
it to me at once!" I exclaimed, with a stern voice.
Harry saw that I knew all about it, and yielded, begging me to not
expose him. I assured him I had no care to do so; but should exact of
him the expenses I had incurred for the carriage, which, at that time
of night, would be about fifteen dollars; which he quickly took from
out a large sized roll of bills from his inner vest pocket. The gas he
had lighted when he rose to dress, was turned on at full head, and
gleamed like a spectre through the room. I examined the money to see
that it was not counterfeit, put it in my pocket, and bade Harry "good
night," telling him I guessed the man in Draper's had recovered by this
time, and that he needn't trouble himself to go down.
I drove to my rooms, paid the driver, and having deposited the ring in
my little safe, went to bed, and pondered on the next step--the finding
of Mr. Clemens next day. I arose rather early next morning, and went in
search. I expected to find him and his friends at some of the prominent
hotels; but they were not there to be found, but had left the St.
Nicholas some three days before, and where gone nobody knew. But the
coachman would know where he took them. After waiting hours to find the
coachman, I at last learned that they had all gone to a house in
Madison Square, to which I proceeded, and found it the private
residence of one of our prominent citizens. The parties, therefore,
were evidently of the _elite_, and were to be approached delicately.
Perhaps they hadn't told their friends of their loss, and from pride
might not want it known. How should I proceed? Well, I rung the bell,
and inquired of the servant if a Mr. Clemens was stopping there; and
learned that he was, but that he and his wife had gone out, and would
not be back till evening. "Was a Mr. Hale there?" "Yes; but he, too,
and his wife have gone with Mr. and Mrs. Clemens." I didn't want the
ring about me. I had pressing work to do that day and that evening; in
fact, I hardly knew whether I should have time to call that evening or
not. So I asked the servant if he could provide me envelope and paper,
for I would leave a note for my friends. I was ushered into the
library, and given the due materials; and addressing a note to Mr.
Hale, which ran much as follows:--
"SIR: I have not the pleasure of your personal acquaintance,
but the fact that I am the _true_ friend of your cousin, Mr.
Robert McDonald, of New Orleans, will be all the assurance, I
presume, that you will want of my being entitled to an audience
with you. I have called to see you upon interesting and
important business, and finding that you are not to return till
evening, I beg to ask you to expect me at half past eight
o'clock. Do not, if you please, by any means fail to be at
home. I would also be pleased to meet Mr. Clemens; and I trust
you will not consider me impertinent (and you will not when you
come to learn my errand), if I ask also to meet Mrs. Hale and
Mrs. Clemens at the same time.
"I would prefer to meet none of the family residing here, but
yourselves alone.
"Yours, very respectfully,
"---- ----."
I hurried through my business for the remainder of the day, and a
little before half past eight was duly at the house on Madison Square.
Being admitted, I called for Mr. Hale. He came to see me in the hall;
looked at me mysteriously; was very civil and polite, but coldly so. I
said, "I left a note here to-day for you."
"Yes, sir, I received a curious note, and don't know what to make of
it. Please explain your business. We are strangers, and you will excuse
me that I am always cautious with strangers, whoever they may be."
He had evidently taken the lesson of the night before to heart.
"But," asked I, "are Mr. and Mrs. Clemens ready to receive me, as I
requested in my note?"
"Yes, and Mrs. Hale too."
"Can I see them all immediately, for I've but little time to spare?"
"Yes, sir," said he, quite rigidly; "follow me, sir."
I followed him to a small side parlor, where sat Mr. Clemens and the
two ladies.
"This is the gentleman who left the note here to-day, and says he knows
Bob McDonald," said Mr. Hale, as he bowed me to a chair, and cast a
furtive glance at his friends as he spoke McDonald's name.
"Pardon me, sir," I broke in. "I did not say that I _knew_ Mr.
McDonald, but that I was a 'true friend' of him, as you'll observe on
looking at the note, if you have it, and as I guess I shall prove."
"O, then you don't know my cousin, Mr. McDonald?" asked Mrs. Hale. "I
am glad you do not, sir, for I was beginning to fear you if you did.
We've seen one of cousin's friends here of late to our regret."
"Well, ladies and gentlemen," said I, "I'll make my story short. You
have, indeed, had occasion to regret meeting one of Mr. McDonald's
pretended friends. Perhaps he does know him too, personally. But I do
not; and I am a 'true friend' to Mr. McDonald, in that I would serve
his friends as he would desire to have me, if he knew your late loss."
There were glances from the eyes of each into those of the others--a
momentary silence and wonder-looking--when Mrs. Clemens tremulously
exclaimed, "Why, sir, do you know all about it? Have you found the
ring?"
"Foolish woman!" said Mr. Clemens. "How do you suppose anybody could
find what wasn't lost--only stolen?"
"But I have something here for you, sir," said I, as I took the ring
from my pocket, and held it up in the light.
"The same!" "That's it!" "Where did you get it?" "Did he lose it, and
you find it?" "How glad I am!" etc., burst from their excited lips.
"Be calm, and I'll tell you all about it," said I; and taking their
seats, for all had risen to their feet, they listened attentively to my
story. I told them my business; how I came to notice them; all that I
did--all except what transpired in Pine Street, making a short tale of
that.
I had handed the ring, as I commenced my story, to Mr. Clemens, who
placed it upon a book lying on the table, where it lay throughout our
discourse, which was carried on for nearly an hour. Near the
conclusion, Mr. Clemens said, "But after all this I do not feel that
the ring is yet justly mine. You have earned a part of it, at least,
and I wish you to tell me how much I shall pay you for your trouble. I
should have lost the ring wholly but for you, and I am willing to pay
you half its value, seven hundred and fifty dollars."
"O, no," said I, "I could not for a moment consent to take so much. In
fact, I would have no right to."
"Well, name the price."
"If you give me fifty dollars I shall be satisfied."
"No such paltry sum, sir," said the generous Southerner. "You shall
take double, yes, four times that, at least."
"Yes," said Mr. Hale, "and I'll gladly pay half of it, or the whole of
it, or double it, and make it four hundred."
But I insisted upon only one hundred; and paying me that, Mr. Clemens
restored the ring to his finger, saying, "The next time I allow a
stranger, no matter whose friend he is, to trifle with my property, I
shall _know_ it, I reckon. It's been a good lesson, cheaply bought, for
me."
Business over, these cheerful people insisted upon entertaining me till
a late hour, and I recited to them some quaint instances in the
detective's life; but they could not but think that their adventure in
New York had been the most remarkable of all.
I dare say that the lesson they learned that night will serve them
through life; and although their loss was so stupidly occasioned that I
presume they keep it secret as to themselves, I've no doubt they
sometimes tell it, in the third person, as a warning to their friends
who may be "going abroad, travelling."
It is a trite saying, that "'tis not all gold that glitters." Everybody
has heard it, and repeated it, but few only profit by it.
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