[A] Copyright by Short Story Publishing Company. Republished
from the _Black Cat_, by permission.
"Thank heaven, you have come," exclaimed Mr. Van Rawlston, as Mr.
Mitchel entered. "I have a thousand pounds on my mind, and----"
"Never heard of the disease," interrupted Mr. Mitchel. "If you consider
mind and brain to be synonymous, the locality is popularly supposed to
be inundated with water occasionally--but then, you mentioned a thousand
pounds, and, a pound being a pint, we would have a thousand pints, or
five hundred quarts, and--well, really, your head seems hardly large
enough, so----"
"I am talking of money," ejaculated Mr. Van Rawlston, sharply; "English
money. Pounds sterling."
"The deuce you are! Money, eh? Money on the brain! Oh, I've heard of
that. It is a very common disorder."
"Mitchel, I sent for you to help me. I am up to my ears in a mystery.
I've been in this room nearly all day trying to solve it. I've had your
friend Barnes working on it for several hours, yet we have made no
progress. In despair I thought of you; of your cool, keen, analytical
brain, and I decided that you could discover the truth, if any man can.
But if you are in a jesting humor, why----"
"A thousand pardons, old friend. That is one pardon for each of your
pounds. But, there, forgive me, and I will be serious. I received your
note late, because I did not reach home until dinner time. You asked me
to call here as soon as possible, and here I am within half an hour of
reading your message. Now, then, about this thousand pounds sterling.
Where are they, or is it, as you are most accustomed to speaking. The
plural or singular verb seems to be a matter of choice with large
amounts."
"The money is in this room."
"In this room? You know that, and yet cannot find it?"
"Therein lies the mystery. I had it in my hands this morning, and within
a few minutes it had vanished."
"Now, Mr. Van Rawlston, if you are presenting a problem for me to solve,
I beg of you to be minutely accurate in your statements. You say 'had
vanished.' That is manifestly an impossibility. I presume you mean
'seemed to have vanished.'"
"There was no seeming about it. It was a single bank-note, and I placed
it on this table. Five minutes later it had disappeared."
"'Disappeared' is a better word, by long odds. It passed out of your
sight, you mean. That I can believe. The question then arises, how was
this disappearance managed. I say managed, which is an intimation of my
belief that the note did not hide itself, but rather that it was hidden.
From this postulate I deduce that two or more persons, besides yourself,
were present at the time of said disappearance of said bank-note. Am I
correct?"
"You are, but really I can't see how you have guessed that there was
more than one person with me!"
"It could not be otherwise. Had there been but one person in this room
with you, you would not think, you would know absolutely that he took
the note. That you have a doubt as to the identity of the culprit, shows
that you suspect one of two or more persons."
"Mitchel, I am delighted that I sent for you. You are exactly the man to
recover this money."
"What about Barnes? I think you mentioned his name?"
"Yes. Naturally my first thought was to send for a detective, and I
remembered him in connection with that ruby robbery of yours, which
occurred at my house. He is now following a clue which he considers a
good one, and will report during the evening. But perhaps I should
relate the exact circumstances of this affair. The details are
strikingly curious, I assure you."
"Now that I know that Barnes is on the scent, I may say that I am eager
for the fray. Nothing would please me better than to succeed where he
fails. Every time I outwit him, it is a feather in my cap, and another
argument in favor of my theory that the professional detective is a much
over-rated genius. Allow me to light a cigar, and make myself
comfortable, in exchange for which privilege I will devote my undivided
attention to your tale of woe."
Mr. Mitchel drew forth a handsome gold case, which bore his monogram in
diamonds, and selected a choice Havana, which he puffed complacently as
Mr. Van Rawlston proceeded.
"Some thirty years ago, or more," began Mr. Van Rawlston, "there came
into my office a young Englishman, who introduced himself as Thomas
Eggleston. The object of his visit was curious. He wished to borrow four
thousand dollars upon collateral. Imagine my surprise when the security
offered proved to be an English bank-note for one thousand pounds. It
seemed odd that he should wish to borrow, when he could readily have
exchanged his note for American currency, but he explained that for
sentimental reasons he wished not to part with this note permanently. He
desired to redeem it in the future, and keep it as a memento--the
foundation of the fortune which he hoped to earn in this new land."
"A singular wish," interposed Mr. Mitchel.
"Singular indeed. So much so that my interest was keenly aroused. I
agreed to advance the sum demanded without charge. Moreover, I put him
in the way of some good speculations which paved his way to success at
the outset. It was not long before his thousand-pound note was back in
his possession. Since then we have been close friends, and I was not
surprised, when he died a few days ago, to find that I had been named as
executor of his estates. Now I must speak of three other persons. When
Eggleston came to this country he brought with him a sister. A few years
later she married a man named Hetheridge, a worthless scamp, who
supposed he was marrying money, and who soon abandoned his wife when he
learned that she was poor. I think he drank himself to death. Mrs.
Hetheridge did not survive him very long, but she left a little girl,
now grown to womanhood. Alice Hetheridge is one of the persons who was
present when the bank-note disappeared. A second was Arthur Lumley, of
whom I know little, except that he is in love with Alice, and that he
was here to-day. Robert Eggleston was also present. He is the nephew of
the deceased, and proved to be the heir to the bulk of the estate. He
has only been in this country a few months, and has lived in this house
during that time. Now I come to the events of to-day."
"Kindly be as explicit as possible," said Mr. Mitchel. "Omit no detail,
however trifling."
"My friend died very unexpectedly," continued Mr. Van Rawlston. "On
Saturday he was well, and on Monday dead. On Wednesday morning, the day
of the funeral, his man of business brought me his client's will. I
learned by it that I was chosen an executor, and I undertook to make its
contents known to the family. I appointed this morning for that purpose,
and when I came, I was surprised to find young Lumley present. Alice
took me aside, and explained that she had invited him, and so I was
silenced. I asked her to bring me a certain box described in the will,
which she did. It was locked, the key having been brought to me with the
will. I took from it a packet which contained a bank-note for a thousand
pounds; the same upon which I had once loaned Eggleston money. There
were also some government bonds, and railroad securities. Having
compared these with the list attached to the will, I then read aloud the
testament of my dear friend. A part of this I will read to you, as
possibly shedding some light upon the situation."
"One moment," interposed Mr. Mitchel. "You said that the packet taken
from the box contained the bank-note as well as the bonds and other
securities. Are you sure that the note was there?"
"Oh, yes. I found it first, and placed it on the table in front of me,
while I went through the other papers. When I looked for it again, it
had vanished. I say vanished, though you do not like the word, because
it seems incredible that one would dare to steal in the presence of
three others. But listen to an extract from the will. After bequeathing
all of his property to his nephew, Eggleston inserted this paragraph:
"'To my dear niece I must explain why she is not named as my heiress. My
father married twice. By his first wife he had a son, William, and by my
own mother, my sister and myself. When he died, my half-brother,
William, was ten years my senior, and had amassed a considerable
fortune, whereas I found myself penniless and dependent upon his bounty.
He was not a generous man, but he presented me a bank-note for a
thousand pounds, and paid my passage to this country. My first impulse,
after my arrival, was to make my way as rapidly as I could, and then to
return to William the identical bank-note which he had given me. For
this reason I used it as collateral, and borrowed money, instead of
changing it for American currency. By the time the note was again in my
possession my brother had given me another proof of his recognition of
our consanguinity, and I decided that it would be churlish to carry out
my intention. Recently William lost his entire fortune in unfortunate
speculations, and the shock killed him. Before he died he gave his son
Robert a letter to me, reminding me that all that I owned had been the
fruit of his bounty, and claiming from me a share of my fortune for his
son. I took Robert into my house, and I am bound to say that I have not
learned to love him. This, however, may be a prejudice, due to the fact
that he had come between me and my wish to make Alice my heiress. It may
be in recognition of the possibility of this prejudice that I feel
compelled to ease my conscience by bequeathing to William's son the
fortune which grew out of William's bounty. The original bank-note,
however, was a free gift to me, and I certainly may dispose of it as I
please. I ask my niece Alice to accept it from me, as all that my
conscience permits me to call my own.'"
"An interesting and curious statement," commented Mr. Mitchel. "Now tell
me about the vanishment of the note."
"There is my difficulty. I have so little to tell. After reading the
will, I laid it down, and reached out my hand, intending to give the
bank-note to Alice, whereupon I discovered that it had disappeared."
"Tell me exactly where each person was seated."
"We were all at this table, which, you see, is small. I sat at this end,
Alice at my right hand, young Eggleston at my left, and Lumley opposite
to me."
"So that all three were easily within reach of the bank-note when you
placed it upon the table? That complicates matters. Well, when you
discovered that you could not find the note, who spoke first, and what
comment was made?"
"I cannot be certain. I was stunned, and the others seemed as much
surprised as I was. I remember that Eggleston asked Alice whether she
had picked it up, adding, 'It is yours, you know.' But she made an
indignant denial. Lumley said nothing, but sat looking at us as though
seeking an explanation. Then I recall that Eggleston made a very
practical suggestion."
"Ah, what was that?"
"He laughed as he did so, but what he said was reasonable enough. In
substance it was, that if each person in the room were searched, and the
note not found, it would thus be proven that it had merely been blown
from the table by some draught, in which case a thorough search should
find it."
"Was his suggestion acted upon?"
"You may be sure of that. I declined once to allow my guests to be
searched when that fellow Thauret suggested it, at the time of the ruby
robbery. And you will remember that the scoundrel himself had the jewel.
That taught me a lesson. Therefore when Eggleston made his suggestion, I
began with him. The search was thorough, I assure you, but I found
nothing. I had as little success with Lumley, and I even examined my own
pockets, with the vague hope that I might have inadvertently put the
note in one of them. But all my looking was in vain."
"Might not one of these men have secreted the bank-note elsewhere, and
then have possessed himself of it after your search?"
"I took care to prevent that. As soon as I had gone through Eggleston, I
unceremoniously bundled him out of the room. I did the same with Lumley,
and neither has been allowed in here since."
"What about the young lady?"
"It would be absurd to suspect her. The note was her property. Still she
insisted upon my searching her, and I examined her pocket. Of course, I
found nothing."
"Ah, you only examined her pocket. Well, under the circumstances, I
suppose that was all you could do. Thus, having sent the three persons
out of the room, you think that the bank-note is still here. A natural
deduction, only I wish that the woman might have been more thoroughly
searched. I suppose you have looked about the room?"
"I sent for Mr. Barnes, and he and I made a most careful search."
"What view does he take of the case?"
Before Mr. Van Rawlston could reply there was a sharp ring at the
door-bell, and a moment later Mr. Barnes himself was ushered in.
"Speak of the Devil, and his imps appear," said Mr. Mitchel, jocularly.
"Well, Mr. Imp of Satan, what luck? Has your patron assisted you? Have
you had the Devil's own luck, and solved this problem before I fairly
got my wits upon it? You look flushed with victory."
"I did not know you were to be called in, Mr. Mitchel," replied Mr.
Barnes, "and I am sorry if you shall be disappointed, but really, I
think I can explain this affair. The truth is, it did not strike me as
very complex."
"Hear that," exclaimed Mr. Mitchel. "Not complex! The sudden vanishing
of a thousand-pound note, before the very eyes, and under the very
noses, as it were, of four persons, not complex! The Devil certainly
has sharpened your wits; eh, Mr. Barnes?"
"Oh, I don't mind your chaffing. Let me explain why I considered this
case simple. You will agree that the note was either mislaid or stolen?"
"Logical deduction number one," cried Mr. Mitchel, turning down a finger
of the right hand.
"It was not mislaid, or we would have found it. Therefore it was
stolen."
"A doubtful point, Mr. Barnes," said Mr. Mitchel, "but we will give you
the benefit of the doubt, and call it logical deduction number two." He
turned down another finger.
"If stolen the note was taken by one of three persons," pursued the
detective.
"He leaves you out of it, Van Rawlston. Well, I suppose I must give you
the benefit of the doubt this time. So there goes L. D. number three."
He dropped another finger.
"Of these three, one actually owned the note, and another had just heard
of the inheritance of a large fortune. The third, therefore, comes under
suspicion."
"Illogical deduction number one," said Mr. Mitchel, sharply, as he
turned down a finger of the left hand.
"Why illogical?" asked the detective.
"First, people have been known to steal their own goods; second, rich
men are often thieves. Mr. Lumley, being in love with the owner of the
note, was as unlikely to steal it as she was herself."
"Suppose that he had stolen it before he heard that his sweetheart was
to inherit it?"
"In that case, of course, he may have desired to return it, and yet not
have had the opportunity."
"Such was probably the fact. That he stole the note I am reasonably
certain."
"How did he get it out of this room?" asked Mr. Van Rawlston.
"He must have hidden it elsewhere than in his pockets," said Mr. Barnes.
"You overlooked the fact, Mr. Van Rawlston, that you cannot thoroughly
search a man in the presence of a lady."
"Good point," exclaimed Mr. Mitchel. "You have your wits about you
to-day, Mr. Barnes. Now tell us what you have learned in corroboration
of your theory."
"Lumley is in love with Miss Hetheridge. Up to a few hours ago, he was a
clerk, upon a salary not sufficient to permit him to marry. Curiously
enough, for one would hardly have thought him so foolish, when he left
this house he went direct to his employer and resigned his position.
Next, I traced him to a business agency, where he obtained an option to
purchase a partnership in a good concern, agreeing to pay five thousand
dollars for the same."
"Five thousand dollars! About one thousand pounds," said Mr. Mitchel,
thoughtfully.
"The scoundrel!" cried Mr. Van Rawlston. "Undoubtedly he is the thief. I
trust you have arrested him, Mr. Barnes?"
"No. He left the city by a train leaving the Grand Central an hour ago."
"Track him, Mr. Barnes. Track him to the end of the earth if necessary.
Spare no money. I'll pay the expense." Mr. Van Rawlston was excited.
"I do not know his destination," said the detective, "but, fortunately,
the train is a 'local,' and he cannot go far on it. I will do my best to
catch up with him. But no time is to be lost."
As he hurried out, Mr. Mitchel shouted after him:
"Luck, and the Devil go with you, Mr. Barnes." Then, turning to Mr. Van
Rawlston, he continued: "After all, shrewd detective though he be, Mr.
Barnes may be on the wrong scent. The note may still be in this house. I
do not like to say in this room, after your thorough search. Still, if
it could be managed, without the knowledge of Eggleston and Miss
Hetheridge, I would like to remain here to-night."
"You wish to make a search yourself, eh? Very good. I will arrange it.
By the way, I should tell you that there is to be an auction here
to-morrow. Eggleston had arranged a sale of his library before his
sudden death, and as the date was fixed and the catalogues sent to all
possible buyers, we have thought best to allow the sale to proceed. This
being the library, you will see the necessity for settling this mystery
before to-morrow, if possible."
"A crowd coming here to-morrow? Excellent. Nothing could be better. Rest
easy, Van Rawlston. If Barnes does not recover the bank-note, I will."
It was already nine o'clock in the evening, and Mr. Van Rawlston decided
to go to his own home. Upon inquiry he learned that Eggleston was not in
the house, and that Miss Hetheridge was in her room. He dismissed the
servant, and locked Mr. Mitchel in the library. Next he went up-stairs
to Miss Hetheridge, told her that he had thought best to lock the
library door, and bade her good-night. Passing out to the street, he
handed the door-key to Mr. Mitchel through the front window.
Left thus alone in a strange house, Mr. Mitchel dropped into an easy
chair and began to analyze the situation. He did not light the gas, as
that would have betrayed his presence, but the glowing grate-fire shed
light enough for him to see about him.
Mr. Eggleston had amassed a great collection of books, for the library
was a long room occupying the whole of one side of the house, the
parlors being on the opposite side of the hallway. Windows in front
overlooked the street, and at the back opened upon a small yard. Just
below these back windows extended a shed, the roof of an extension,
which served as a laundry.
Mr. Mitchel went over in his mind the incidents which had been related
to him, and two of his conclusions are worthy of note here:
"Barnes argues," thought he, "that Lumley may have taken the bank-note
before he knew that it had been bequeathed to his sweetheart. But the
same holds good with the girl herself, and might well explain her
stealing what was really her own property. That is one point worth
bearing in mind, but the best of all is my scheme for finding the note
itself. Why should I trouble myself with a search which might occupy me
all night, when by waiting I may see the thief take the note from its
present hiding-place, always supposing that it is in this room?
Decidedly, patience is a virtue in this instance, and I have only to
wait."
A couple of hours later, Mr. Mitchel started up from a slight doze, and
realized that he had been disturbed, though at first he could not tell
by what.
Then he heard a sound which indicated that someone was fitting a key
into the lock. Perhaps the thief was coming! This thought awakened him
to his full faculties, and he quickly hid among the folds of some heavy
draperies which served upon occasion to divide the room into two
apartments. The door opened, and he heard the stealthy tread of soft
footsteps, though at first the figure of the intruder was hidden from
his view by the draperies which surrounded him. In a few moments his
suspense was at an end. A young woman, of girlish figure, passed by him
and went over to the fireplace. She was in a dainty night-robe, her long
black hair hanging in rich profusion down her back. She leaned against
the mantel, and gazed into the fire without moving, for some minutes,
and then turning suddenly, crossed the room, going directly to one of
the book-shelves. Here she paused, then took down several books which
she placed upon a chair near by. Her back was towards Mr. Mitchel, but
he could see her reach into the recess with her arm, which was bared by
the act, the loose sleeve of her gown falling aside. Then there was a
clicking sound just perceptible to the ear, and Mr. Mitchel muttered to
himself:
"A secret closet, with a spring catch."
In another moment, the girl was replacing the books, and, this done, she
hurried from the library, locking the door after her. Mr. Mitchel
emerged from his hiding-place, and, going to the shelf where the girl
had been, removed the books and searched for the spring which would
unlock the secret compartment. It was not easily found, but Mr. Mitchel
was a patient and persistent man, and after nearly an hour discovered
the way of removing a sliding panel, and took an envelope from the
recess behind. Carrying this to the fireplace, he dropped to his knees,
and withdrawing its contents, held in his hand a Bank of England note
for one thousand pounds. He looked at it, smiled, and said in a low
tone:
"And Mr. Barnes was so certain that he would catch the thief!" Then he
smiled again, replaced the books on the shelf, decided that the large
sofa might serve as a comfortable bed, and so went to sleep.
He was awakened early, by a sense of cold. Starting up, for a moment
dazed by his unfamiliar surroundings, he gazed first at the gray ashes
of the dead fire in the grate, and then looked towards the windows
thickly covered with frost, and shivered. Remembering where he was, he
threw his arms about, and walked up and down the long room to start his
blood moving, and induce a little warmth. Presently he went to the back
windows and looked at the beautiful frosting, which resembled long fern
leaves. Suddenly he seemed unusually interested, and especially
attracted to one of the panes. He examined this closely, and taking a
note-book from his pocket made a rapid sketch of the pattern on the
glass. Then he raised the sash, looked out upon the shed, and emitted a
low whistle. Next he stepped out through the window, went down on his
hands and knees upon the tinned roof, and looked closely at something
which he saw there. Returning to the room, one would have said that his
next act was the most curious of all. He again opened the secret panel,
and replaced the envelope containing the bank-note. Then he went to the
table where Mr. Van Rawlston claimed that the note had vanished, and he
sat in the chair where Mr. Van Rawlston had been when he read the will.
Several hours later when Mr. Van Rawlston came in, Mr. Mitchel was
sitting in the same chair looking through a Bible.
"Well," said Mr. Van Rawlston. "How did you pass the night? Did the
thief pay you a visit?"
"I think so," replied Mr. Mitchel.
"Then you know who took the note?" asked Mr. Van Rawlston, eagerly.
"Perhaps; I do not like to jump to conclusions. This is a magnificent
Bible, Mr. Van Rawlston. Is it in the sale to-day? If so, I think I will
bid on it."
"Oh, yes; it is to be sold," replied Mr. Van Rawlston, testily. He
thought Mr. Mitchel merely wished to change the subject, and at that
moment he was more interested in bank-notes than in Bibles. He had no
idea that Mr. Mitchel really coveted the Bible. But then he did not know
that Mr. Mitchel collected books as well as gems. He was therefore much
astonished, some hours later, when the auction was in progress, to find
Mr. Mitchel not only bidding on the Bible, but bidding heavily.
At first the bidding was spiritless, and the price rose slowly until Mr.
Mitchel made an offer of five hundred dollars. After a moment's
hesitation young Eggleston bid fifty dollars more, and it was seen that
the contest was now between him and Mr. Mitchel. Bidding fifty dollars
at a time the price rose to nine hundred dollars, when Eggleston
remarked:
"I bid nine-fifty," then turned to Mr. Mitchel and added, "This is a
family relic, sir, and I hope you will not raise me again."
"This is an open sale, I believe," said Mr. Mitchel, bowing coldly. "I
offer a thousand dollars."
"One thousand and fifty," added Eggleston, quickly.
At this moment Mr. Barnes entered the room, accompanied by a short,
young man, and Mr. Mitchel's attention seemed attracted away from the
Bible. The auctioneer noticing this, called him by name, and asked if he
wished to bid again.
"One moment, please," said Mr. Mitchel. "May I look again at the
volume?"
It was passed to him, and he appeared to scrutinize it closely, started
slightly as though making a discovery, and handed it back, saying:
"I have made a mistake. I supposed that this was a genuine Soncino, but
I find that it is only a reprint." Then he turned to Eggleston with a
curious smile, and said, "You may have the family relic. I shall not bid
against you."
The auction over, the crowd dispersed, and when all strangers had
departed, Mr. Mitchel nodded meaningly to Mr. Barnes, and approached
young Eggleston, who was tying up the Bible in paper. Touching him upon
the arm, he said very quietly:
"Mr. Eggleston, I must ask the officer here to arrest you!"
Eggleston's hands quivered over the knot, and he seemed too agitated to
speak. The detective realizing that Mr. Mitchel had solved the problem,
quickly stepped closer to Eggleston.
"What does this mean?" asked Mr. Van Rawlston.
"Call Miss Hetheridge, and I will explain," said Mr. Mitchel.
"No, no! Not before her!" cried Eggleston, breaking down completely. "I
confess! I loved Alice, and wished to make it impossible for her to
marry Lumley. The note is here! Here, in the Bible. I stole it, and hid
it there!" With nervous fingers he tore off the wrappings, and rapidly
turning the pages searched for the note. "Heavens! It is not here!" He
looked at Mr. Mitchel inquiringly.
"No; it is not there. You paid too much for that Bible. Mr. Van
Rawlston, I prefer to have the lady called, if you please."
Mr. Van Rawlston left the room, and Mr. Mitchel addressed Mr. Barnes.
"By the way, Barnes, have you abandoned your theory?"
"I suppose I must now, though I had not up to a moment ago. I found Mr.
Lumley, and accused him of the theft. He would offer no explanation, but
willingly agreed to return with me."
"We seem to have arrived just in time," said Mr. Lumley, quietly.
"In the very nick of time, as you shall hear," said Mr. Mitchel. "Ah,
here is Miss Hetheridge. Will you be seated, please, Miss Hetheridge."
He bowed courteously as the young woman sat down, and then proceeded.
"I did not think that the bank-note had been removed from this room.
Why? Because I argued that the theft and the hiding must have
necessarily occupied but a moment; a chosen moment when the attention of
all three others was attracted away from the table where it lay. The one
chance was that Miss Hetheridge may have hidden it in the folds of her
gown. The men's pockets seemed too inaccessible. I agreed with Mr.
Barnes, that the lady would scarcely steal what was her own, though even
that was possible if she did not know that it was to be hers. For a
similar reason, I did not suspect Mr. Lumley, and thus by elimination
there was but one person left upon whom to fasten suspicion. I supposed
he would return here during the night to recover the bank-note, and I
remained in this room to watch for him."
At this Miss Hetheridge made a movement of her lips as though about to
speak, but no words escaped, and she shrank back in her chair.
"During the night," proceeded Mr. Mitchel, "Miss Hetheridge came into
this room, and hid something. After she had left the room, relocking the
door with a duplicate key, I found what she had hidden. It was a one
thousand-pound note."
There was silence for a moment, then Miss Hetheridge cried out:
"I can explain!"
"That is why I sent for you," said Mr. Mitchel.
"The note was my own," said the girl, speaking rapidly, "but after the
disappearance of the other, I was afraid to have it in my room lest it
be found, and seem to inculpate me. I only received it a few days before
my dear uncle died. He told me that his brother William had sent it as a
present to my mother upon her marriage, but as he had doubted the good
intentions of my father, he had kept the matter a secret. As both my
parents died, he had held the note in trust for me. He did not invest
it, because he thought that his own fortune would be an ample legacy to
leave me. A short time before he died, I passed my twenty-first
birthday, and he gave me the note. That is the whole truth."
"To which I can testify," interjected Mr. Lumley. "And I may now add
that Miss Hetheridge had not only promised to be my wife, but she
offered me the use of her money to buy the partnership, which to Mr.
Barnes seemed such a suspicious act."
"I have only to explain then," continued Mr. Mitchel, "how it was that I
decided that Miss Hetheridge was not the thief. This morning I found
heavy frost on the window-panes. Upon one, however, I noticed a
circular, transparent spot, where the pattern of the frosting had been
obliterated. Instantly I comprehended what had occurred. The thief, the
real thief, had come in the night, or rather in the morning, for I know
almost the hour. He stood upon the shed outside, and melted the frost by
breathing upon the pane, with his mouth close to the glass. Thus making
a peep-hole, he must have seen me asleep on the sofa, and so knew that
it would be useless for him to attempt an entrance. As the person who
did this trick stood upon the shed, I had but to measure the distance
from the shed to his peep-hole to be able to guess his height, which I
estimated to be more than six feet. Next, there was some very
interesting evidence in the frost on the tin roof. The marks made by the
man's feet, or his heels rather, for the frost was so light that only
the impressions of the nails in the heels would show. My own made
complete little horseshoe-shaped marks composed of dots. But those of my
predecessor were scarcely more than half a curve, which proved that he
walks on the side of his foot, thus slightly lifting the opposite side
from the ground, or roof, as it was in this instance. This much decided
me that Miss Hetheridge was not the thief, and I returned her bank-note
to the place where she had hidden it. Then I sat at the table where the
will was read, and studied the situation. The easiest way to hide the
note quickly seemed to be to slip it into the Bible which stood on the
table. Therefore I was not surprised when I found the bank-note which I
have here."
He drew forth the bank-note from his pocket and handed it to Mr. Van
Rawlston, who asked:
"But why, then, did you try to buy the Bible?"
"I had no idea of doing so. You forget that I had not seen Mr. Lumley.
He, too, might have been six feet high, and he, too, might have had the
habit of walking on the side of his heel, as I quickly observed that Mr.
Eggleston does. With only one of the men before me I decided to run up
the price of the Bible, knowing that if he were guilty he would bid over
me. Mr. Eggleston followed my lead, and I was almost sure of his guilt,
when he made the remark that he was buying a family relic. It was a
possible truth, and I was obliged to go on bidding, to see how anxious
he was to possess the volume. Then, as I said awhile ago, Mr. Lumley
arrived in the nick of time. One glance at his short stature, and I was
ready to let the Bible go."
"You said you could almost tell the hour at which this man peeped
through the window," said Mr. Barnes.
"Ah, I see! You wish me to teach you tricks in your own trade, eh? Well,
frost forms on a window-pane when the thermometer is near or below
thirty-two. On the wall here I found a recording thermometer, which
discloses the fact that at three o'clock this morning the temperature
was as high as forty-five, while at four it was below thirty. Frost
began to form between those hours. At five it was so cold, twenty
degrees, that I awoke. Our man must have come between half-past four and
five. Had he come before then, his peep-hole would have been fully
covered again with frost, whereas it was but thinly iced over, the mere
freezing of the water of the melted frost, there being no design, or
pattern, as there was over every other part of the window-pane. So I may
offer you a new version of an old saw, and say that, 'Frost shows which
way a thief goes.'"