PAUL IS CHECKMATED
On entering the large jewelry store Mr. Montgomery and his wife walked
to the rear of the store, and advanced to the counter, behind which
stood a clerk unengaged.
“What shall I show you?” he inquired
“I didn't come to purchase,” said Mr. Montgomery, with suavity, “but to
sell. I suppose you purchase jewelry at times?”
“Sometimes,” said the clerk. “Let me see what you have.”
“First,” said the adventurer, “let me introduce myself. I am the Rev.
Mr. Barnes, of Hayfield Centre, Connecticut. You perhaps know the
place?”
“I don't think I remember it,” said the clerk, respectfully.
“It is a small place,” said Mr. Montgomery, modestly, “but my tastes are
plain and unobtrusive, and I do not aspire to a more conspicuous post.
However, that is not to the purpose. A lady parishioner, desiring to
donate a portion of her wealth to the poor, has placed in my hand a
diamond ring, the proceeds to be devoted to charitable objects. I desire
to sell it, and, knowing the high reputation of your firm feel safe in
offering it to you. I know very little of the value of such things,
since they are not in my line, but I am sure of fair treatment at your
hands.”
“You may depend upon that,” said the clerk, favorably impressed with the
appearance and manners of his customer. “Allow me to see the ring.”
The brilliant was handed over the counter.
“It is quite valuable,” said he, scrutinizing it closely.
“So I supposed, as the lady is possessed of wealth. You may rely upon
its being genuine.”
“I am not authorized to purchase,” said the clerk, “but I will show it to
one of the firm.”
Just at that moment, Mr. Montgomery, chancing to look toward the door,
was startled by seeing the entrance of Paul Hoffman. He saw that it
would be dangerous to carry the negotiation any farther and he quickly
gave a secret signal to his wife.
The hint was instantly understood and acted upon.
Mrs. Montgomery uttered a slight cry, and clung to her husband's arm.
“My dear,” she said, “I feel one of my attacks coming on. Take me out
quickly.
“My wife is suddenly taken sick,” said Mr. Montgomery, hurriedly.
“She is subject to fits. If you will give me the ring, I will return
to-morrow and negotiate for its sale.”
“I am very sorry,” said the clerk, with sympathy, handing back the ring.
“Can I get anything for the lady?”
“No, thank you. The best thing to do is to get her into the open air.
Thank you for your kindness.”
“Let me help you,” said the clerk, and coming from behind the counter he
took one arm of Mrs. Montgomery, who, leaning heavily on her husband and
the clerk, walked, or rather was carried, to the street door.
Of course, the attention of all within the store was drawn to the party.
“What was the matter?” inquired a fellow-clerk, as the salesman
returned.
“It was a clergyman from Connecticut, who wished to sell a diamond ring,
given to him for charitable purposes. His wife was taken suddenly sick.
He will bring it back to-morrow.”
“Was the ring a valuable one?”
“It must be worth in the neighborhood of three hundred dollars.”
Paul listened to this explanation, and a sudden light flashed upon him,
as he heard the estimated value of the ring. There had been something
familiar in the appearance of the adventurer, though, on account of
his successful disguise and his being accompanied by a lady, he had
not before felt any suspicion as to his identity with the man who had
swindled him. Now he felt convinced that it was Mr. Felix Montgomery,
and that it was his own appearance which had led to the sudden sickness
and the precipitate departure.
“That trick won't work, Mr. Montgomery,” he said to himself. “I've got
on your track sooner than I anticipated, and I mean to follow you up.”
Reaching the sidewalk, he caught sight of Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery just
turning the corner of a side street. The pair supposed they were safe,
not thinking that our hero had recognized them, and the lady no longer
exhibited illness, and was walking briskly at her husband's side. Paul
hurried up and tapped the adventurer on the shoulder. Mr. Montgomery,
turning, was annoyed on finding that he had not yet escaped. He
determined, however, to stick to his false character, and deny all
knowledge of the morning's transaction.
“Well, my young friend,” he said, “do you want me? I believe I have not
the pleasure of your acquaintance.”
“You are mistaken there, Mr. Felix Montgomery,” said Paul,
significantly.
“By what name did you address me?” said the swindler, assuming a tone of
surprise.
“I addressed you as Mr. Felix Montgomery.”
“You have made a mistake, my good friend. I am an humble clergyman from
Connecticut. I am called the Rev. Mr. Barnes. Should you ever visit
Hayfield Centre, I shall be glad to receive a call from you.”
“When I last met you, you were a jeweler from Syracuse,” said Paul,
bluntly.
Mr. Montgomery laughed heartily.
“My dear,” he said, turning to his wife, “is not this an excellent
joke? My young friend here thinks he recognizes in me a jeweler from
Syracuse.”
“Indeed, you are quite mistaken,” said the lady. “My husband is a
country minister. We came up to the city this morning on a little
business.”
“I understand on what business,” said Paul. “You wanted to dispose of a
diamond ring.”
Mr. Montgomery was disposed to deny the charge, but a moment's
reflection convinced him that it would be useless, as Paul had doubtless
been informed in Ball & Black's of his business there. He decided to put
on a bold front and admit it.
“I suppose you were in Ball & Black's just now,” he said.
“I was.”
“And so learned my business there? But I am at a loss to understand why
you should be interested in the matter.”
“That ring is mine,” said Paul. “You swindled me out of it this
morning.”
“My young friend, you must certainly be insane,” said Mr. Montgomery,
shrugging his shoulders. “My dear, did you hear that?”
“He is an impudent boy,” said the lady. “I am surprised that you should
be willing to talk to him.”
“If you leave here I will put a policeman on your track,” said Paul.
He looked so determined that Mr. Montgomery found that he must parley.
“You are under a strange hallucination, my young friend,” he said.
“If you will walk along with me, I think I can convince you of your
mistake.”
“There is no mistake about the matter,” said Paul, walking on with them.
“The ring is mine, and I must have it.”
“My dear, will you explain about the ring? He may credit your
testimony.”
“I don't see that any explanation is necessary,” said the lady.
“However, since you wish it, I will say that the ring was handed you by
Mrs. Benton, a wealthy lady of your parish, with instructions to sell
it, and devote the proceeds to charitable purposes.”
“Is that explanation satisfactory?” asked Mr. Montgomery.
“No, it is not,” said Paul, resolutely. “I don't believe one word of
it. I recognize you in spite of your dress. You gave me chloroform this
morning in a room in Lovejoy's Hotel, and when I was unconscious you
made off with the ring which I expected to sell you. You had better
return it, or I will call a policeman.”
“I am not the person you take me for,” said Felix Montgomery.
“You are the jeweler from Syracuse who swindled me out of my ring.”
“I never was a jeweler, and never lived in Syracuse,” said the
adventurer, with entire truth.
“You may be right, but that is what you told me this morning.”
“I wish you would go away, and cease to annoy us,” said the lady,
impatiently.
“I want my ring.”
“We have no ring of yours.”
“Show me the ring, and if it is not mine I will go away.”
“You are a very impudent fellow, upon my word,” said Mrs. Montgomery,
sharply, “to accuse a gentleman like my husband of taking your ring. I
don't believe you ever had one.”
“My dear,” interposed her husband, mildly, “I dare say my young friend
here really thinks we have his ring. Of course it is a great mistake.
Imagine what our friends in Hayfield Centre would think of such a
charge! But you must remember that he is unacquainted with my standing
in the community. In order to satisfy his mind, I am willing to let him
see the ring.”
“To let him see the ring?” repeated the lady, in surprise.
“Yes. Here, my lad,” taking the ring from his pocket, “this is the ring.
You will see at once that it is not yours.”
“I see that it is mine,” said Paul, taking the proffered ring, and
preparing to go, astonished at his own good fortune in so easily
recovering it.
“Not so fast!” exclaimed Mr. Montgomery, seizing him by the shoulder.
“Help! Police!”
An officer had turned the corner just before, and it was this that had
suggested the trap. He came up quickly, and, looking keenly from one to
the other, inquired what was the matter.
“This boy has just purloined a ring from my wife,” said Mr. Montgomery.
“Fortunately I caught him in the act.”
“Give up the ring, you young scoundrel!” said the officer, imposed upon
by the clerical appearance of the adventurer.
“It is mine,” said Paul.
“None of your gammon! Give up the ring, and come with me.”
The ring was restored to Mr. Montgomery, who overwhelmed the officer
with a profusion of thanks.
“It is not a diamond, only an imitation,” he said, “but my wife values
it as the gift of a friend. Don't be too hard on the boy. He may not be
so bad as he seems.”
“I'll attend to him,” said the policeman, emphatically. “I'll learn him
to rob ladies of rings in the street. Come along, sir!”
Paul tried to explain matters, but no attention was paid to his
protestations. To his anger and mortification he saw the swindler
make off triumphantly with the ring, while he, the wronged owner, was
arrested as a thief.
But at the station-house he had his revenge. He was able to prove to his
captor that he had lodged information against Mr. Montgomery, and the
policeman in turn was mortified to think how readily he had been
imposed upon. Of course Paul was set free, but the officer's blundering
interference seemed to render the recovery of the ring more doubtful
than ever.