CHAPTER III.

A CONUNDRUM.

I had not gone far on my way after deciding that the lovely blonde had

quite escaped me--in fact, I was once more about to pass under the

viaduct opposite the Woman's Building and which separated Midway from

the grounds proper--when a tall figure in blue appeared at my elbow,

and fell easily into my somewhat hasty stride while saying:

'You will pardon me, I hope, for intruding, and let me say how much I

appreciated and enjoyed the sudden way in which you halted that Turk

just now. It was scientifically done.'

I turned to look at the speaker. His words were courteously uttered,

and I knew him at once by his blue uniform for one of those

college-bred guards who have helped so much to make the great Fair a

success to question-asking visitors. He was a tall, handsome fellow,

with an eye as brown as his hair, and as honest and direct as the

sun's rays at that very moment, and I recognised him almost at once as

the guard who had hastened to lend his aid, and had sent the Turks to

the right-about, there being nothing else to do. A churl could not

have resisted that pleasant half-smile.

'It was nothing,' I said carelessly; 'the fellow was wantonly

heedless.'

'It was a very pretty and scientific turn of the wrist,' he insisted,

'and--yes, those fellows at first were obsequious enough; now, some of

them, having found out how ill-mannered the Americans dare be without

being beaten, are aping our manners. I--I trust the young lady was not

hurt?'

The big brown eyes turned from me as he put the question, for that it

was, and I saw a dull-red flush rise from his throat and dye his face

to the very tip of his jaunty visor. I detected, too, a note of

anxiety in the mellow voice that he could not quite suppress.

'I don't know, but fancy not--not much, at any rate.' We had come out

from the shadow of the viaduct, and he halted as I spoke. I checked my

steps also, and I checked my speech too. The anxiety in the voice was

reflected now in the face. I was smiling slightly, and through my mind

flitted a fragment of doggerel:

'Oh, there's nothing so flirtatious

As the bowld soldier boy!'

Suddenly the brown eyes came back to my face, open and clear as day.

'I owe it to myself,' he said, with sudden dignity, 'to explain. At

the moment when she turned away, I recognised the young lady as an

acquaintance, and was naturally interested to know if she had received

any hurt--the blow seemed a severe one. I saw you pick up her bag and

start in pursuit, and when you came back I ventured to address you. I

could not follow far; this is my beat.'

'I see!' I was quite won by the young fellow's frank and manly air and

his handsome face; 'and I'm sorry I can't enlighten you. I did not

find the lady.'

'Oh!' There was a world of disappointment in this one syllable, and

before he could utter another a new voice broke into the dialogue.

'Pardon me, please! But'--a little pant--'but I saw you pick up my

friend's bag, and--and she was so fatigued after the shock that I ran

back.'

The speaker stopped here, and for several seconds seemed occupied in

recovering her breath. She was a small and plump brunette, well

dressed, and wearing a dashing sailor-hat of black, wide-brimmed and

adorned with two aggressive-looking scarlet wings; this and the red

veil dotted with black which partially concealed the face was all that

I had time to note before she spoke again, coming closer to me and

altogether ignoring the good-looking guard.

'She was so startled and nervous after the shock that she sat down

near the Java Village, and I came back the moment I could leave her.'

She shot a glance over her shoulder, and turned her look squarely

upon the guard, who had drawn back a pace. 'A chair-boy,' she hurried

on, 'waiting near the Libbey Glass Works saw you pick up the bag, and

told us the way you had gone. Will you please give me the bag?'

I had been studying the little brunette while she talked, and I now

said:

'I am very sorry your friend did not come in person. She did not seem

much hurt.'

'She was not, and she would have come with me, only----' Again she

cast her eyes in the direction of the guard, who still stood looking

both anxious and ill at ease, and for a moment she seemed to hesitate.

In that moment the guard's fine face flushed again, and then set

itself in cold, resolute lines. He lifted his hand in salute to me,

and, without a second glance at the little brunette, strode back

toward the viaduct.

The face of the girl showed instant relief, and she put out her hand.

'The bag, please!'

'Excuse me,' I answered, 'but really I can't let the lady's property

out of my hands without something to prove your right to it. Since the

lady is so near, if you will permit, I will go back with you.'

'How dare'--she threw back her head, and her black eyes darted

annihilation--'how dare you, sir! Because I condescend to address you,

to oblige an acquaintance, do you fancy I will accept your escort and

pocket your insult? Not for ten thousand leather bags!' She turned

upon her heel and went swiftly back towards Midway, and after watching

her for a moment I resumed my often-interrupted march, smiling as I

went to think how the clever little brunette had been thwarted. That

she was an adventuress I did not for a moment doubt. She had seen the

dropped bag, of course, and had noted my pursuit of its owner, and

its failure, and she had counted upon making me an easy dupe with that

assured little demand of hers. But I was not quite a stranger to her

kind. Perhaps if the good-looking guard had not been so suddenly put

to rout I might have turned the young lady over to him; such offenders

were his legitimate care. But as I thought of her easy,

self-possessed, good society air, and the black eyes so keen and

sophisticated, and then of his frank, ingenuous face, I almost laughed

aloud. She would have laughed at his authority, and slipped through

his fingers easily.

How quickly he had turned away at the first hint that she found his

presence at our brief interview undesirable, flushing like a boy, too!

Of course I readily saw why she should prefer to make her little

attempt without witnesses, especially those clothed with a measure of

authority; and yet he had seemed to go away reluctantly.

And then I remembered his explanation or excuse in having followed and

addressed me. He had known the young lady--owner of the bag. Why, of

course--he wanted to hear of her further, from the lips of this

supposed girl friend.

'Poor fellow!' I thought, beginning to imagine a little romance there

in the White City; and then I turned myself about with a sudden jerk.

Truly, my wits were wool-gathering. Confound that little adventuress!

He had turned away so suddenly, and he knew the owner of the bag. I

would find him at once--he was not far away--and I would wash my hands

of that little black bag.

But it was not to be. I had expected to find my handsome guard easily,

and I did not find him at all. After a half-hour spent in prowling up

and down, I encountered a file of guards marching briskly. I caught at

my watch, and then scoffed at myself. Of course my guard had gone to

dinner; I would do likewise, and then, when my other and more personal

duties had been discharged, I would look up the guard. It would be

quite easy.

The arrangements for our comfort during our stay in the White City had

been completed in advance of our coming, and Dave and I had been

quartered together in a cosy little apartment, which we could reach

easily and as quietly as if it were an isolated dwelling, instead of

being in the very centre of all the beauty and bustle of the Fair.

Having paid my respects to the 'man in authority,' and after he had

made me familiar with the inner workings of the splendid system by

which the White City was to be watched over and protected, and

acquainted with some of my co-workers, I was ready for a hearty

luncheon, and then I found myself my own master for the remainder of

the day, or until four o'clock, when Dave and I were to meet by

appointment at the Ferris Wheel and tempt its dangers together.

Of course my first attempt, after luncheon, was to find my handsome

guard; but while good-looking young fellows and polite young fellows

in blue uniforms were to be seen on every hand, the one face for which

I looked was nowhere visible. I still had the lost bag in my outer

pocket, which I watched jealously, for its bulk could be but too

plainly seen; and when Dave and I found ourselves moving slowly upward

at the tip of one of those giant spokes of the big wheel, he fixed his

eye upon this pocket, and asked with a grin:

'Got an extra luncheon in case we are stranded in mid-air until past

the Christian dinner-hour?'

Of course I told him the story of the find--but briefly, for my eyes

were busy watching the people in the grounds below grow less and less

in size, until they seemed like flies moving about eccentrically, the

legs of the men seeming to jerk about convulsively, and looking

automatic from that height.

There was much to amuse us in Midway, or on it; for at first the

street, with its strange population, was spectacle enough, and we did

not think of the black bag again until we found ourselves occupying

isolated places upon the lofty seats in Hagenbeck's great animal show,

and being serenaded by an excellent band, while we watched the entry

of the happy family.

We had entered at a time midway between the closing of one performance

and the beginning of another, and we found it a comfortable place in

which to exchange experiences and compare notes.

My first question had been of the Camps and their swindling friends,

but Dave's report was scant. He had seen the man of the canes, but the

seller of 'soo-vy-neer' matches was no longer he of the big moustache

and goodly height, but a small elderly Turk, who piped weakly and

plied his calling listlessly. The Camps, Smug, the gentlemanly agent,

all had disappeared from off Midway. I was not surprised at this,

neither was I disappointed; and having said as much, I took up the

parable of my latest adventure upon Midway, telling of my encounter

with the guard and the little brunette, and letting my fun-loving

friend enjoy another good laugh at my expense.

'I must say, Carl, old fellow, that so far as I have traced your

career this first day at the Fair, you have not shone out brilliantly.

But never mind, partner: "a bad beginning"--you know the rest. Oh, are

we to have a look at the bag?'

I had drawn it forth and placed it upon my knee. It was a small

receptacle of finest alligator-skin, with an outside pocket, and

having attached to it the tiny chain and hook by which it had been

secured to the young lady's girdle. It closed with a silver clasp, and

in the open outside pocket was a fine white handkerchief with some

initials embroidered in one corner.

'J. J.,' read Dave slowly. 'That don't tell us much, does it, old

man?'

I looked about me. There was no one near us, and on the opposite side

of the big pavilion the band was playing 'After the Ball.' I pressed

the silver clasp, and the bag lay open in my hand.

'Gad!' exclaimed Dave. 'The woman who owns that is as dainty as a

princess.'

He was quite right. The little bag contained only a small

silver-handled penknife, a dainty tablet and pencil, a glove-buttoner,

a second little handkerchief, fine and smoothly folded, and two

letters.

When I had taken out these articles one by one and laid them on my

knee, Dave took the bag from my hand and turned it upside down.

'Nothing more,' he said, shaking his head sagely. 'Not a bit of candy;

not a powder-puff or perfume sachet. Well, well! Carl, the owner of

this little article, whoever she is, besides being dainty and without

vanity, is a very clever little woman, and I'll wager she's pretty,

too.'

This outbreak was so like Dave that I only smiled, while I unfolded

the handkerchief and shook it out over my unoccupied knee. In one

corner, in exquisitely dainty embroidery, were the two initials 'J.

J.,' and when Dave had shut the bag and looked again at the closed

clasp, he discovered, finely cut on the metal, the same initials.

'J. J.,' mused Dave; 'that suggests any number of charming

personalities--Juliet, Juno, Jessica.'

'Jane, or Jemima,' I supplemented, taking up one of the letters.

It was post-marked Boston, and bore date three days before, but it

gave us no further information.

Through the name, across the middle of the square envelope, half a

dozen heavy lines had been pencilled, and these in turn checked

through with little vertical dashes; below were the sketchily-drawn

supports, which indicated a bridge, and upon this bridge a procession

of people vaguely outlined as to body, but elaborated as to face to

such a degree of artistic cleverness that Dave uttered an exclamation

of delight.

'An artist, upon my soul! Look at those faces! Gad! but that is well

done! There are types for you, and hardly more than thumb-nail

portraits at that. But it's spoiled the address; we can't get J. J.'s

name out of that.'

It was quite true; under the crossed lines forming the platform of a

bridge, evidently a sketch of one of the structures spanning the

lagoons, the name was quite concealed, but below, through the waving

water-lines and the curves of the arch, we could read and guess the

remainder of the address, thus:

'---- ---- ---- ---- ----,

'Chicago,

'Illinois.

'Massachusetts Building, World's Fair.'

I put this letter down and took up the other envelope. Upon this was

written a woman's name, nothing more, neither town, county, nor state.

'Conundrum?' commented Dave over my shoulder. Just then there was a

sudden blare from the band, and a roar that almost startled my

sophisticated nerves.

I turned my eyes toward the arena, where a splendid white horse now

stood, caparisoned in a sort of armour upon back and neck, and pawing

impatiently, while he waited opposite a sort of portable platform

higher than the horse's back, and gaily cushioned and decorated. A

great tawny male lion was in the act of leaping from the ground to

this high perch. I had seen many exhibitions of animal intelligence

and training, but when this king of lions, uttering a second mighty

roar, leaped to the back of the waiting horse and rode about the ring

like a trained rider, leaped through a hoop held in the mouth of a big

spotted boarhound, and otherwise acquitted himself like an

accomplished rider, I forgot the conundrum of the little black bag,

and my mission at the World's Fair, and looked and applauded, and was

simply one of five hundred sight-seers.

It was useless to contend; the charm was upon us; the first day at the

Fair had us at last in thrall, and we watched the trained lions,

tigers, bears, and pumas, admired the ponies, applauded the dogs, and

wondered at the plucky woman trainer, without a thought beyond the

passing moment.

The fever lasted until night had fallen, until we had trundled from

end to end of Midway in a pair of wheeled chairs, visited the Dahomey

Village, the Ostrich Farm, the Chinese Theatre, and the little

community of quaint, shy, industrious Javanese, leaving it still in

the spirit of adventure, and sauntering, after a dinner in Old Vienna,

here and there through a veritable fairyland, glittering, glistening,

shining, radiant from the splendid dome of the Administration

Building, with its girdles of fire, its great statues shining under

the golden glow, and the lagoons with their lights and shadows, their

gondolas gliding to and fro between flowering banks or illuminated

façades, with fountains playing, music filling the air, and everywhere

laughter, merry voices, and gay throngs of enchanted pleasure seekers.

What wonder that we lingered long, and that it was only when we were

shut between four walls, the lights out, the White City asleep, that I

thought again of J. J. and her lost letters; and now, as I thought,

the fair blond face seemed to rise before me, and I saw again the slim

figure flit past me on Midway.

Brainerd lay sleeping near me, and I thought of his comment, 'A

conundrum?' Why not search for the answer in these white billets, and,

finding it, take the little black bag to the bureau of the 'lost or

found'?

I took up the bag, opened it, hesitated, and put it down. Why should I

read those letters from a stranger, and to a stranger? I leaned out of

the window and drank in the loveliness all about me, illuminated by a

faint young moon.

'A conundrum?' I took up the letter post-marked Boston, and slowly

drew out--ah, it was more than a mere letter that my hand touched that

night. I had put my finger upon a thread in the web of fate!

Against Odds: A Detective Story · 第 3 / 35 章