'IT WAS GREENBACK BOB.'
Our chief had arranged for us, and in advance of our arrival, that our
letters should be received at the bureau, where a desk was always at
our disposal; and a little before four o'clock I dropped in once more
to look for letters and ask if Dave had made a second appearance. The
letters were in waiting for both of us, but there was no news of Dave,
and, stowing the letters in my pocket, I sought once more the Court of
Honour; seating myself near the great MacMonnies Fountain, in the
shade of the Administration Building, where Dave could not fail to
find me, to read my letters and wait for him.
I was in no haste, with that magnificent court spread out before me,
and the blue dancing waves of Lake Michigan in the distance, Nature's
background for the great Peristyle, surmounted by that novel and
beautiful Columbus quadriga, in itself a work of art such as is seldom
seen, and with golden Justice, dominant and serene, commanding and
overlooking all.
Forgetting my letters, I let my eyes wander slowly from point to point
of beauty, letting the moments pass unheeded.
'Fine figure of a woman, eh?'
I started, and came suddenly down to earth, at the sound of one of my
friend's characteristic speeches. He was standing beside me, as
imperturbable of countenance as usual, but looking somewhat blown; and
he dropped upon the bench, and stretched his legs, and pulled off his
hat, like a weary man who means to enjoy a little well-earned rest.
I knew him too well to display any curiosity, and I merely sorted out
from the bundle of letters still unopened in my hand those bearing his
name, and laid them upon his knee, and with merely a nod and smile, by
way of greeting, addressed myself to my own.
The first was a brief business document; the next a schoolboy's
letter, short, of course, from a young brother, my sole living tie and
charge. The third was from our chief, and I saw, upon opening it, that
it was addressed, within, to both of us.
'Dave,' I ventured, 'may I interrupt?'
'You can't,' he replied. 'I've done. They're of no consequence,' and
he thrust the two missives I had given him into his loose side-pocket.
'Blaze away, boy.'
The letter was not long, and, after some minor instructions and some
suggestions, came this passage:
'"I wonder if either of you remembers the case of the Englishman who
wrote us at much length some six months ago concerning his son, 'lost
or missing'--we did not succeed in finding him in New York----"'
'And small wonder,' chuckled Dave, whose memory was a storehouse. 'We
hadn't even the skeleton of a description.'
'"In New York, you remember,"' I read on, '"and it has seemed to me
that you may as well look out for him in your intervals of leisure, if
there are such."'
'Old man's growing sarcastic,' grumbled my friend.
'"It's a good thing, if successful,"' I continued; '"and the Fair is
the best place in the world for a 'hide out.' If the young fellow's
above-ground I'll wager something he's in Chicago now; that is, if he
really did come to America a year ago, as his fond father (?) writes.
I enclose for your further information his letter; and I would be
proud of the fact if you two fellows could unearth him at the
Columbian City. I give you _carte blanche_ for the case."'
'Umph! That means roll up your sleeves and go in.'
I took up the copy of the Englishman's letter. 'Shall I read it?' I
asked, 'or is it----'
'Don't say "engraven on your memory,"' implored Dave. 'Yes--go ahead.'
'"DUNDALK HOUSE,
'"_January 3, 1893_.
'"MESSRS. ----.
'"GENTLEMEN,--On November 6th, in the year 1892, Carroll L.
Rae, Esq., of Dundalk House, left his home, ostensibly for a
few days in London. He was never seen again at Dundalk, and
we have been accurately informed that he sailed for America
in that same month. Being of age, he drew from his bankers
while in London one thousand pounds, the full amount
deposited to his credit; since that time no trace of him has
been found.
'"Carroll L. Rae is twenty-six years of age, and tall,
lacking one-half inch of being six feet in height. He is
slender, broad-shouldered, upright; fair skin, blue eyes,
brown hair; features regular and refined; hair worn very
short, but inclined to curl close to skull; strong in
athletic sports; a graduate of Queen's College; has small,
aristocratic feet and hands; a skilled horseman; sings a fine
and unusually high tenor; has a singularly strong control
over all animals. We have no portrait of him since childhood.
Has strong leaning toward military life and somewhat literary
tendencies. Am prepared to send blank cheque for the payment
of expenses of thorough search, and add as reward when found
two thousand pounds. Address all correspondence to
'"SIR HUGO RAE,
'"Dundalk House, Egham,
'"Surrey."'
'Umph!' broke out Brainerd, when I had read the last word. 'Typical
old English paterfamilias! Tyrannical, I'll be bound. I'll bet
something the young fellow ran away from parental tyranny. How did the
thing come out at the first attempt? I don't seem to recall it.'
'And for a good reason. You were in Canada, and I was occupied with
that Rockville murder. I think they put Sturgis on the case. English
himself, you know.'
'Yes--well?'
'Well, as nearly as I remember, Sturgis advertised, to begin,
"something to his advantage," etc.'
'Of course!' contemptuously.
'This failed, and he made the tour of the hotels, swell places first,
then going down in the scale, hunted the registers; haunted the places
most affected by the English tourist; halted good-looking, or
English-looking, blond young men until they turned on him. In fact,
tried all the dodges--and failed.'
'Of course! It's one thing to find a person who has been hidden, and
quite another to search for one who hides himself. What do you think
has set the chief to looking this lost son up here, and through us?'
'Why, you know his ways--he seldom stops to explain; but I fancy he
may have heard again from Sir Hugo Rae.'
I took up the two sheets, and was about to thrust them into their
envelope, when Brainerd suddenly said:
'Hold on, boy! there's something written across the back of that
copied letter.'
I turned it over and read the half-dozen lines written thereon:
'"Carroll Rae, if found, is to be told at once that his brother, Sir
Hugo, is dead."'
'Oh!' ejaculated Brainerd; 'so it's not his father. Well, that alters
things. We may be able to find a Sir Carroll Rae, especially as he
must have about exhausted that thousand pounds if he has been doing
the States in true English style.'
'At any rate,' I added, 'it's on our books. I suppose one may keep an
eye out for a swell young Englishman here as well as elsewhere. It's
only one more face in the crowd.'
'And that reminds me,' said my friend. 'This business almost put it
out of my head. I took a turn on that Intramural road this afternoon.'
'Yes?' I knew better than to interrupt at this point.
'And I saw, I am sure I saw--whom do you think?'
'Dave, that's like a woman! I'm surprised at you. You saw Delbras.'
'Wrong! I saw, I'm certain of it, Greenback Bob.'
'Good!'
'He was dressed very swell--you might have mistaken him for one of the
board of directors; but it was Bob.'
'And you piped him home, of course?' I queried.
'Of course I didn't. He was going one way, and I the other, each on an
Intramural car.'
'Oh! and you were running to stop the car, and Bob, when I saw you at
Mount Vernon Station,' I said wickedly; 'did you overtake it?'
'I did--just.'
'And Bob?' eagerly.
'Well,' with a grin, 'I'm sorry to disappoint you, but when I jumped
on board, at the last moment, I found that Bob had got off while I got
on. In fact, I saw him going downstairs as I was borne away to
Fifty-seventh Street. There, boy, don't look so mournful; it's all in
the game. I couldn't find a trace of him; but we know he's here.'
* * * * *
I had decided on the night of my arrival, after pondering late the
adventure of the black bag, or, as I now described it to myself, Miss
Jenrys' bag, upon my course of action concerning it.
In her letter to her friend she had mentioned the entrance at
Fifty-seventh Street as being near their place of abode, and I had
promised myself that I would be early at that gate to watch for the
coming of Miss Jenrys, and to restore her property--what else?
But I had not counted upon a diamond robbery at the very beginning of
my World's Fair adventures, and as I wished to go unaccompanied, I did
not attempt to stand guard at evening.
But the second morning saw me at an early hour alone, and so near the
gate at Fifty-seventh Street that I could in no possible way miss the
lady should she appear.
I had not needed to avoid Dave. He had been prompt to tell me that he
meant to put in the day looking for Greenback Bob, and that he should
'do his looking' upon Midway.
'And why Midway?' I had asked him.
'Because, if there's a place that is better than all other places in
which to hide one's self, that place is the Midway.'
It was quite true; and as I made my way toward the northern entrance,
I turned over in my mind an idea suggested, or revived, by Dave's last
words.
As I passed toward the entrance between the unique little house of
South Dakota on one side and hospitable and home-like Nebraska State
Building on the other, my gaze was caught by the restfulness and charm
of the western façade of the latter, with its broad portico and the
little lawn lying between the broad steps facing the western boundary
of the grounds, the little stream flowing under overhanging trees of
nature's own planting, and past the little natural arbour of climbing
vines draping themselves among the branches, making shade and coolness
for the groups loitering underneath upon the rustic seats scattered
freely and inviting all.
While I gazed, a voice close behind me said, in a wheedling drawl:
'Dew come in! You never saw sech a place! Why, upstairs beats this all
out of sight. Sech parlours, with velvet chairs, and sofys, and a
pianer; I tell ye Nebrasky beats some o' them stuck-up Eastern
States!'
I turned, to see a fat, rosy-faced and eager woman, in the defiant
bonnet I have learned to know as from 'out west,' piloting a lean and
reluctant woman, quite as typical as a rural New Englander, through
the gate of the inclosure; and, prompted doubtless by the words I had
just heard, I took another and more extended survey of the building so
justly extolled, this time lifting my eyes to the upper window and the
balcony overhanging the stream.
Was it a mere passing resemblance, or a fancied one, or was the face I
saw for just an instant at one of those upper windows the face of the
little brunette adventuress who had laid claim to Miss Jenrys' bag? If
so, she had been scanning the increasing crowd through an opera-glass,
and had dropped this in seeming haste, and vanished, before I could
prolong my glance.
'It's hardly likely,' I said to myself, and turned toward the bridge
spanning the little stream, and lying between me and the entrance I
sought.
As I stepped upon the bridge I saw, on the other side, just coming out
from the shadow of the elevated tracks above the entrance, the lithe
form and rare blond face, not to be mistaken anywhere, with its fine
clear contour, its dark eyes, and fine healthful pallor.
She came forward leisurely, and stopped by the railing at the edge of
the platform to look down at the white-hooded Laplander who constantly
paddled up and down in the little stream, between the bridge and the
Lapland Village behind the inclosure, a few rods to the north.
Just then there was a cry from beyond the gates, followed by the
rat-tat-tat of a drum, and one of those perpetually arriving
'processions' came filing down the platform and across the bridge. I
was in no haste to accost Miss Jenrys at the very entrance, and
possibly in the face of one or more of my ever-present brethren of the
watchful eye, and so, while she waited unhurried upon one side of the
bridge, I stopped also, looking down upon the little stream and
feigning interest in the white-robed canoeist paddling, and doubtless
perspiring, in the mild June air. The procession was not a long one,
and was formed of boys, half-grown, and wholly effervescent, wearing
what was evidently an extemporized uniform, and carrying a banner
which informed me that it was a boys' school, sent from an outlying
town through the liberality of an 'Honorable' somebody whose name I
did not hear; for the fact of the sending was not emblazoned upon the
red-silk banner they carried, but was announced, often and willingly,
in reply to numerous queries all along the line.
They were a healthy and wholesome lot of fellows, and while I gazed at
them, not without a feeling of interest in and sympathy with their
day's pleasure, a little figure flitted past me, through the tiniest
of spaces between the marching lads and myself, pressed close against
the rail, and I saw again the little brunette hastening toward the
platform at the gate. Wondering a little, I kept my post.
There was the usual rabble of all sorts and conditions swelling the
ranks in the rear, and when these had crowded across the bridge, there
was another throng of more leisurely moving visitors. But Miss Jenrys
was not in this throng; and when they had passed and the stream of
travel had somewhat thinned I moved forward, only a few steps,
however, for just beyond me, advancing slowly, with a smile upon her
lips, and her eyes turned toward a companion, came Miss Jenrys.
She had entered the grounds alone--of that I had been ocularly
convinced; and that she should find a companion so soon had never
entered my thoughts.
But she had a companion, and I almost gnashed my teeth as I saw
tripping along at her side the little brunette.
She was talking volubly, in the low, quiet manner that I knew, and if
she saw me in passing she disguised the fact skilfully.
I waited until they were a few paces ahead, and then followed them
slowly, chewing the cud of bitter reflection.
Could it be that I was losing my skill in reading and judging
faces--I, upon whom the men of our force relied for a rapid, and
usually correct, guess at a strange face? Was I mistaken in this
little brunette, then? Or had I been mistaken in my judgment of Miss
Jenrys?
No, never! I had set her down at once for a lady, in the sweet
old-fashioned meaning of the word--womanly, refined, good and true;
and had not her letters confirmed this? But this dark-haired,
quick-speaking little person by her side--was she, after all, a
friend? And had I committed a _faux pas_ in refusing to deliver up the
little bag? And if so, had I the courage to approach these two and
commit myself? Could I tell Miss Jenrys how, failing to think of a
better way of finding her, I had read her letters? I had meant, of
course, to do this; but could I, with those pert, mocking eyes upon
me? No; in my heart I knew that it was not that which vexed me. Could
I bear the scrutiny of those clear, straightforward brown eyes in that
other presence, which would put me at so sore a disadvantage?
Then I shook myself and my senses together. After all she came alone.
Might they not separate soon? How could I tell that there was not a
friend, several friends perhaps, waiting for that troublesome brunette
back in the Nebraska Building?
They were walking straight down the street toward the lake, with a row
of State buildings upon one side and the great spreading Art Gallery
on the other. It was a perfect June morning, and the sight of the blue
lake at the end of that splendid promenade, and the fresh breeze
blowing off it, were inspiriting. There was to be some State function
that day, and the crowd was thickening. Made bold by numbers, I came
close behind them. Miss Jenrys had unfurled a big blue umbrella, and
the two walked in the shade of it; and in order to screen myself, in
part at least, should the brunette, whom I was beginning to detest
heartily, turn and look suddenly back, I shook out the closely-rolled
folds of my own umbrella and poised it carefully between my face and
the sun.
And now, made bold by my canopy, and frankly bent upon hearing what I
could, I drew daringly near, and when they stopped and stood to gaze
at the ornate New York State Building, I halted also.
'By no means,' I heard the soft voice of the lovely blonde say, as she
moved back a pace to look up at the façade. 'That would be quite too
enterprising. I am chaperoned by my aunt, who is not so good a
sight-seer as myself, and for two days I have ventured----' Here the
sharp call of some hurrying chair-boys drowned her words, and I next
heard the brunette's voice.
'Things do happen so strangely'--it was impossible to catch all of her
words--'mamma is sick so often--and papa--I do dislike being alone,
though--in the Art Gallery--acquaintances. That is all--I do wish----'
They moved on, Miss Jenrys increasing her speed perceptibly, and
seeking, it seemed to me, to walk a little aloof from her companion,
which caused me to wonder if she could be expecting or hoping to meet
anyone. I was no longer able to hear their conversation, but they
again paused and gazed long at the fine colonial building of the State
of Massachusetts.
I had hardly looked to see Miss Jenrys enter the placid New York
halls, but when she turned away from Massachusetts without entering or
so much as climbing the terrace steps, I wondered; and then, as the
pair turned away, and after a moment of seeming hesitation moved on
toward the lake, a man, tall and well dressed, passed me so closely
and at such a rapid pace as to attract my attention to himself. He
walked well, with a quick, swinging stride, and I think I never saw a
man's clothes fit better. His hands were gloved, and in one of them he
carried a natty umbrella, using it as a cane. I had not seen his face,
for he turned it neither to right nor left; and his splendid disregard
for the beauties all about him was explained when I saw him halt
beside Miss Jenrys and hold out a hand with the assured air of an old
friend. I was near enough to see the smile on her face when she turned
to greet him, but the few quick words they exchanged were of course
unheard. Then I saw her turn toward the brunette on the other side;
but that brisk little person had already drawn back, and now she said
a word or two, nodded airily, and, turning, went quickly away.
A moment later Miss Jenrys and her companion turned about and went
toward the Massachusetts Building, and I saw his face. It was dark and
handsome; and as they mounted the terrace side by side I pressed
boldly forward, under the shadow of my umbrella, and thanking my lucky
stars that I had it with me, and that--because it was on the cards
that at ten o'clock I was to go to the rendezvous where Farmer Camp
was to meet, or await, Mr. Smug, for he knew him by no other name--I
was lightly but sufficiently disguised in a wig slightly sprinkled
with gray, and long about my neck and ears, and a very respectable
looking short and light set of moustaches and whiskers, the whole
finished with a pair of gold-rimmed glasses.
Wearing these, I ventured so close that I heard, while toiling behind
them up the broad old-fashioned stairway, a few fragmentary words from
the lips of Miss Jenrys, who seemed replying to some question.
'I cannot, indeed--the best of reasons. My aunt is not here, Mr.
Voisin.'
'Mr. Voisin!' I fell back and meditated. So this was the handsome
Frenchman, the rival of 'him'! I did not again attempt to overhear
their conversation, but I followed them about the building as they
moved slowly from room to room, and now I did not follow with my eyes
upon the graceful and stately movements, the lovely profiles and turns
of the head, of the fair woman moving on before me, but I noted
carefully every gesture, every pose and turn, the gait, carriage, and
as correctly as possible the height, weight, and length of limb of
Mr. Maurice Voisin of France, and I felt that I was doing well.
When at last they turned from the building, which neither had seemed
in haste to leave, I looked at my watch, and knew that I had barely
time to reach the southern end of the grounds even aided by the
Intramural. As I came out upon the street once more, and was passing
hurriedly by the eastern portico of the New York Building, I chanced
to lift my eyes toward it. The great curtains between the fluted
columns were swaying in the breeze, and from between two, which she
seemed to be trying to hold together with unsteady hands, the face of
the little brunette, dark and frowning, looked cautiously out.