Daily British Whig (1850), 11 Jun 1912, p. 12

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THE DAILY BRITISH WHIG, TUESDAY, JUNE 11, 1912. | 'D been watching them for weeks--no, months-- and that morning as Mrs, Gooddale swept through 'the hotel foyer, the amiable Archie mincing in her wake, I had to cough to kill a chuckle. ; i; Fortanately I'm smal, of nondescript coloring, + dajoty and inconspicuous, so no one noticed me. But name is Winona. Note the flexibility of it---"Win"~-- V '--*"Nona"--"Ona"--as changeable as 1 wom- an, you see. And I'd been brought up to believe I 88d a right to other people's money, not as the so- alist sees it, nor yet Wfter the manner of the smug, fewerful politician, but with an element of danger to make success more elusive, sweeter when captured, Not the taking of a man's livelihood or life--but often y risking of my own. 5.80 before it perceptibly winked an eye I recognized my opportunity. That Mrs. Archie Gooddale stopped $0 leave her key at the hotel desk was of satisfying That she did not leave a red leather box, long and fat, was momentous! ' Out of my chair behind the curtains of the writing tobm I drew myself with an Inward gasp of non-he fief. Only a few moments earlier Mrs. Gooddale's French maid had hurried through the corridor to the street, jsunty turban set far down on her head, and f¥0m it, floating over her face, a black lace vell. I'd studied that make-up from 'ew York to Parls, from Paris to Naples, from Naples across the sea again, very detall of it I knew by heart. Likewise I knew the ways of hotel clerks, .. AD less than fi'teen minutes. by the bronse clock in She foyer a trim little figure, with black lace vell cov- "ering her face, walked up to the bifice desk. .""Mees Gooddale key, plees," ste demanded with an upward trill, RE » fhe clerk indifferently dragged lifs hand across the rows of pigeon holes, inserted if and clapped 80wn a key. It was just as Indifereiitly picked up. Then the bearer whisked into an elevator and was whirred out of sight. , The tenth floor reached, she stepped out, hurried own the main corridor and into a semi-private hall- y ay jutting from it. At the extreme end was a door, ore which she stopped, eyes shining. The little French maid was little me (with apologies for incor- fect English). And that door was the gate to Fortune, Quick as 8 flash I had it open and shat again, locked , with key and me on the inside. I was In a gold " Beyond were bed and dressing rooms. This door formed the sole entrance to the apartment. place had not yet been put in order. It was ident, too, that Mrs. Gooddale's maid had been sent Ut in haste on a mission for her mistress. For over hung silk and lace garments, flung there care- Iesaly, and among pastes and powers on the dressing table chaos reigned. I took In the rooms. their ar- ment and furnishing, at a glance. Not even the eres in thelr frames Incriisted with brilllants es- oaped me. Fluney, the theatrical manager through whom poor Archie's attentions to Totty Gilmore had Been "press agented" into & proposal of marriage, stopd on the bureau surrounded by diamonds. Maze » Salle, Mrs. Gooddale's chum of showgirl days, re- oh a reading table. In spite of eight months of tavel, away front the past into a very different future, aroma of the theatre still clung to everything. A pulled down all the window shades and made for the bureau, intent on one object, the feel of an oblong siiboth leather case under my hand, the sense that it was red, and within, the flash of the famous Gooddale Ids. But the bureau from drawer to drawer Jip nothing, Neither did the chiffonier, or dressing in the fog room. 'Back to the 1 made my way, groping, for were still In semi-darkness. I could not risk the window Stade, . : stepping across the threshold I tripped over a k dragged with me the chiffon dressing gown that ay | it. When I stumbled to my feet there lay long, red leather box. It had been reposing all the 'on the chair under that gown! I blinked hard, ost Inughed ontright at my stupidity, and, clutching Case, sprang it open. Oh, the gleam of green fire, the disembodied eyes of a Circe! 1 could--hon- estly, I could have made love to them, >. Surprising the Thief. Fhad just Shapped. 1 Sue Sass and made a dive for foplous hand! X the salon when a timid - : sounded iy door. ? Not a whit! I simply ignored the and continded to dive. It was repeated. Again response. At Jast the doorknob was turned. But, £0 , dt falled to yleld. 1 had it securely locked on inside. ~ s here, 1 know," came from without. "I seen in myself. t's queer," 1 heard the man ay) "If she's in 1 t to answer." humble tone was Archid Gooddale's. once I knew I must answer either 'to him or to BY RITA WEIMAN. (Copyright, 1911, by the New York Herald Co. All rights reserved "Eet ees all right," trilled I sweetly. bair and at once 'ave return to take the case to the offeece. Already ees eet down below." "You're a good girl, Murcelle," heartily. safe." : To which I did not reply. My acceni was beginning to hurt, - "1 told Mrs. Gooddale the jewelry would be ty RT - brows, too. ¥ oe 5 - -- rR -- ve -- moment was how to dispose of the real Marcelle with. out disclosing the presence of the spurious one. Sd At last heropened wiae the door. With swift agilits I slipped in back of it, flattened againei theswall. Marcelle walked in, sniffing like a fox terrier, and made straight for the curalned win 'lows. "Never mind that!" ¢ried Archie, nervously, "I'll at- tend to it." 4 French shoulders went up, and, 1 darg say, eyve- Through the crack where the door hinged 1 watched he top before Archie, give him one long, comprehensive stare, shrug again, and with evident re- Tuctance retire into the bedroom. '"Now will you please explain to me"---- As 1 came forward be led the way to the extreme énd of the room, close--oh, disastrously close---to my hat, coat and booty. "I suppose you had an objet' ---- Before 1 could stop him he had raised the window shade amd the light glancing in touched a corner of the red léather box. He pulled it from under my coat. A thoroughly frightened look came into his eyes as he quickly jerked open the cover. There they lay-- necklace, bracelets, brooch, earrings and rings." their green gleam shot eerily into the shadow. The man acinally shivered with relief, then came over to where I sat huddled in an armchair, 7 "I 'ave remem- , Archie approved , "Do You Mean to Say)" He Breathed Incredulously, "That You Meant to Steal These?" - As he turned and started for the salon I was hanging away the gown carefully, with great regard for detail. With every step he made I took a breath of relief; ang when he banged into a sharp corner of the bed I. gave a shriek, so tight was my tension keyed. Then, impatient to be rid of him, and with belated campunction for the trick 1 was playing his short sight, 1 burried inte the salon and opened the door to the "Oh, by the war» he remarked. pausing on his way out, "if Mrs. right." He crossed the threshold. Then he stopped with a sharp exclamation. Lpeered from behind the door. A miracle had come to pass! For there la the ball outside stood another Butcelte, vague as to outlines, but unmistakable the t she opéned her lips. "Monsieur Goodale, 1 "ave 'urry 'ome. We 'ave for got to take madam's" ---- le 'phones, teil her everything's all' "Du yout mean to say," he breathed iticredulousty, 'that you meant to steal these?" 1 nodded, guiped hard, "I--I've been the tool of a--a Fagin," 1 murmured. "For months I've Yollowed you, waiting for just such an epportuniyy as presented itself this morning. Oh, you don't know what if is to be forced to this kind of thing agaiust your will! I've been watching you, your wife, your maid, day and night ever since you left London. Fve scarcely slept, scarcely eaten. And to-day my moment of release came. You'd all gone out--you had forgotten to lock up the emeralds. 1 got luto your apariment--no matter how. I suppose 1 didn't lock the door securely when I closed it on the chambermaid. 1 beard it open--and my heart stood stil All sorts of plans rushed through my head. 1 wanted to throw myself from the window." 1 turned away. A convincing sob caught In my throat. "I'm so tired of it all" 1 moaned. Poor Archie covered his eyes with his hand as the tears commenced to roll down my cheeks, great pearly drops, beautiful enough to string. Archie cleared bis throat--1I could almost feel the lump in I "It's a pretty seeious state of affairs." he sald, with desperate attempt at severity. "You'll t my duty seems clear." *¥es" 1 8 . sivking still further into the chair, a crompled heap. "I suppose there's nothing else you can do. I've known~I'd come to this some day. And there at the ddor when I saw that little © French girl outside, I knew she was Fate--that my tangible, Something definite. wlasses stepped on suspicious warn. hour had struck. Bat somehow 1 felt--Noped--that if 1 should tell you my story, you wight and-- shoul you, : broke off, and pity. Why though?" with subtle appeal to NE pi. Gi to steal, and the fact that 1 didn't sucredd doesn't change madMers, does it?" 5 - Archie reached for his glasses, Thes recalling 8 that ther lay trampled on the floor, he took a second pair from his walsteoat pocket, adjusted, took them off and surreptitiously wiped ach glass, "If 1 should give you up' he Baif-questioned, taking up the jewel case again, . "It will mean' prison, of course," I answered In terrified whisper. And 1 know I léoked every inch the helpless little girl. "Everything's agalust me, even the confession I've just given you. Why 1 baven't a shred of defence---none whatever. You see I've not been at th : long enough to be weil versed in all its tr I'm hopeless--a bungler." Archie sprang open ¢ ence more, made sure the emerulds still nested In iheir velvet bed, then looked at me, "What would you db if 1 were to let you go?" "Oh" I breathed. with a little unbelieving gasp, "I'd leave it--all this--and try to find something decent to do. If only 1 had the chance" -- "Perhaps," mused Archie slowly, "1 could help you -- . "You don't mean ¥"---- 1 ¢rled, hands clasped before me © "Yes be interrupted softly, "I believe that at the core you are good. Your very confession proves it. You've got to keepsout of the clutches of this--this a --. Ss pe ee id Fagin you speak of, that's all, Let me see--suppose you meet me at my lawyers, Kirke, Brown & Halsey, to-morrow at twelve, and I'll see if 1 can't find some- thing for you." I glanced up at him in quick suspicion. Of course I wouldn't go to his lawyers', hut was he cleverer than 1 thought? Was this a seheme -- "No-----no," he added bastily, interrupting my look. This--er---experience will be gnite safe with me. 1 give yon my word to one shall ever know of it." He extended his.hand and 1 bent my head over it In mute though tearful gratitude. The Broken Appointnient. "To-morrow," he reminded me, as 1 whisked off the apron, speared on my hat and picked up my hand- bag in rapid succession. And on his face 1 could resd the sinile of compiacent self-satisfaction that inva- riably creams the milk of human kindness. Of course that to-morrow never came---save In one sense, My brother Bill took me to dinner the following night at the Waldorf. It's a way we have of either celebrating a big coup or forgetting & big disappoint ment. Dangerous if you lke. Bul, then, risk rapidly becomes meat and drink to one who depends on it for both. Besides, yon'd never have recognized me as I paused nonchalantly in the door#ay of the rose colored room. Dressing up to look to the manner born 1s a dis guise I've cultivated like many women not in my pro- fession. To-nigit 1 wore moonshine with green lights in it, and a black picture hat swooping down over my eyes. Also under the last was a tinge of shadow not east by the hat--and the red of my lips had come not exactly through biting them. Yes, I flatter myself 1 did look the lady as 1 stood waiting for Bill and the maitre d'botel to decide on a table. Suddenly I turned, hand laid Yghily on aly brother's arm. "The table next to the corver one," I drawled sug- gestion. "1 should ike it, 1 think." 3 Bil glanced in the direction indicated and I felt his muscles tighten. At a table shoved close to the one I'd pointed out sat Mr. and Mrs. Archie Geoddale. she was talking excitedly. Every hair in her red dour seemed to Sting frum the confining band oF bent. was fants and poiut ace ¥ at ber hgsband. furnbling nervously with his glasses. Brother Bill hesitated, eyes on me lu ra question. My answer was to wove a0 oo raid table I'a selected. . "Can't you see," my lips formed the words hurried] y #8 1 seated myself back to Mrs. Ogoddale, chair Et uP Against hers, "I've jot to know what the argument's about." . "Run your head lato the lion's » b> mouth," brother Bill But I was more {Her voice was Ped interested fn the lady's, = / © pliched bigh, like a fury stra, (FF "Don't 'muy dear' me. I want to know the weaning of it, that's all. A strange woman--and when Mas celle comes in, you keeping her out, and the shades drawn and whispers so that Marcelle couldn't catch & word. And then she vanishes and" "My dear," Archie managed to interject, "do I ever question where you lunch or dine? Didn't you go off with Finney yesterday? 1 assure you this was a mat ter of business, nothing more." "Business--in a dark corner for hours! may be half blind; mine are 'not! of me?" "Nothing--I mean, dear," Archie soothed, a hopeless note In his voice, "you're exaggerating. It was half an hour at most." "1 don't care if it was five iniputes. I want to know, and I'm going to!" And there, with brother Bill calmly ordering the dinner while 1 wanted to shriek to Archie to keep sllence at all costs, Mrs. Gooddale gradually drew forth the story as a dentist extracts"a tooth---with protest- ing, fidgeting and reluctance on the part of the pa- tient. When she had finished I was clinging with both hands to my chair like a shipwrecked sailor-to the mast. "Archie Gooddale," she gasped finally, "I thought you were a fool when you married me. Now 1 know you must have been the original one.' Lord, you make me want--to--scrateh!™ "Why," there was hurt astonishment In Archie's tones, "no harm's done" ------ "And you didn't even have her searched!" she choked. "Searched? Why, no. You saw for yourself this morning. been the use?' The poor thing"---- "Give me the key to that box!" Mrs. Gooddale in- terrupted swiftly. "Hereafter I'll look after the jewel cafe" And the next day she left her husband. The papers were full of it. Under the direction of John Finney, her former manager, she was going back on the stage, and would appear in vaudeville wearing the famous emeralds Gooudale had presented to her on their marriage. Such was the announcement. © During the three mont. that followed those emer- alds were manipulated by her press agent until she might have been entwined, chaiged, lu them, just as the billboards pletured her, For it was generally un. derstood that a dazzled public would rush to see the Jewels rather than to hear tae songbird. Even in show girl days Mrs, Gooddale's voice had never rivalled her shoulders, Poor Archie fled town to escape persistent reporters. But from the absolute indifference to his wife's deser- tion 1 judged freedom had not been unwelcome, even alsthe sacrifice of family jewels. Immedigtely after our dinner at the Waldorf brother BIIL too, had left the city "on urgent business." So I kept out of sight and amused myself following the press reports of Mrs, Gooddale's progress. But three lays. before the lady's début, blagonsd brilliantly on the first page of an evening paper were the headlines "Famous Emeralds Stolen!" Bets on the Emeralds, Of course no one believed it, though rewards wore offered broadcast for thelr return. It was Just pos- sible, the management explained, that they'd been lost, A day passed and no results. Added to the re- ward came a promise of "no questions asked." Sti another day went by. Then the opening was pos poned a week. At last the public began to take no. tice. Could It be possible that the story was true? Curiosity was aroused, conjecture stimulsted, the usual assortment of cranks came forward witp theo- ries. * The case was discussed in hotel corridors, on street corners. It became an absorbing topic of - terest. Archie's friends in club windows along Fifth avenue laid bets on the outcome. Jaded old New York took to wondering whether this press agent tithit had been hctually served with the reiish of truth. 'And speculators began to ask ten dollars a seat for the night of Mrs. Gooddale's first appearance, Then came the flash of the expesed after all. The Goodale emeralds had been found!---by a poor old seamstress whose family was on the verge of starvation. A beautiful story--and ob, pathetic to the point of tears. But Just here a doubting news- paper lannched forth. It advised {ts readers none too delicately that during last week's uproar Mrs. Gooddale's jewels had probably been reposing in a safe deposit vault. It published letters by the score, And at length came one, terse, to the point. "How is a poor bewildered public to know," the cynical writer inquired, "that the Gooddale lady's gowns are the real thing after all! Why has her hus- band made no effort to recover them since her un- ceremonjous leave taking? The answer is, Because they're probably made of paste." At once the newspapers seized on the question and flauntéd it. Certainly it offered a sensational solu- tion of the whole affalr. The emeralds a fake! The bare possibility of it made reportorial lips smack. An army of press representatives visited Mrs. Archie at her hotel She rose up shrieking defiance. she stormed. She let them send an expert. She'd have the stones examined before witnesses, She'd prove to them, to every one. She'd sue for libel, For, naturally, doubt as to the reality of her star drawing card mean fiasco, A meeting was arranged and a connoisseur se- lected to test the precious stones. Reporters of other papers were invited to be present, 1 put on a thick veil and a brisk, businesslike air and to that meeting I went. It was held in Mr. John Finney's: private office, at the top of his big vaudeville theatre. Unlike other rooms of the type--Dbare, tobacco stained and lined in posters ~this was a stunning place. A multitude of signed photographs covered the gold tinted walls. On a dull green rug in the centre of the room stood a huge, fiat mahogany desk. At this--judicially --sat the man- ager. Beside him, In high back chair, Mrs. Gooddale re- clined like a queen holding court, her manner that of delicate disdain, but in her eyes a sparkle that told she realized the advantages of the situation. On the desk lay a long--oh, so famillar---red leather box. Obviously the scene bad been arranged with care cal culated to prove the climax of advertisement. We were ushered in with the ceremony of a Fifth avenue reception. I half expected to have my name required. Wonder which I'd have given. But no ques. tions were asked. In I walked, one of the last to arrive. A group of reporters lolled near a window through which the sun streamed. Some strolbed about examining pictures, All were but mildly thrilled at the proceeding. That smile In Mrs, Gooddale's eye was enough to dispel any doubt, But she vouch safed no word, and when the expert hurried in she con. tinved to sit silent, while Finney banded bim the red leather case, / He snapped it open. The emerald eyes gleamed, winked, coquetted, But the sunfire played with theirs. He pulled down one of the several shades. The stones glittered more brilliantly. He fingered them, carried them to a window facing a side street cut off from strong light, Silence, while he took a glass from his pocket, examined them closely through it. Again he ran sensitive fingers over necklace, bracelets, brooch, ear rings and rings, taking up each in turn. A ripple of excitement stirred the alr. Mrs. Archie glanced at the expert--curiosity tinged with impatience. He was handing the jewels again, stiff more carefully, Presently he looked across them st ber, something like a question In his eyes. She half tose, uneasiness replacing the early sovereign poise, Your eyes What do you think The emeralds are all right, What would have by "How dared they!"

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