Pullman herald. [volume] (Pullman, W.T. [Wash.]) 1888-1989, 1891-11-27

other things as if by accident, or as if it
had been forgotten. Yet it was ALWAYS
forthcoming whenever | looked. | nut
asolltary sovereign on a corner of the
mantelpiece; the housemaid twice drew
my attention to the fact that the coin
was still lying there. No, nothing that
ever placed as bait disappeared. The
depredatlons were confined to such OBJ
Jects as | hadn't been thinking about I'M
til wanted them.
hesltated, as have said, to tell nv
landlord; SO now determined to consult
Scotland yard, for, during the sleepless
nights, which as the London season
waned grew longer, the subject assumed
far greater Importance than it did in the
day. 1t became an intolerable night
mare, and | would sometimes get out of
bed and search for any object l might
suddenly remember | had not seen for a
long while. Sometimes found it, some
times did not; sometimes | never set
eyes on it again-it was clean gone.
Indeed. at last, it was in this way, and
at these untimely hours, that | discov-
cred most of my losses. Thus, what with
them and my aleeplessness, l grew quite
detected; but | entirely refused to think
of myself i'll. 1t absolutely never oc-
CURED to me; so | walked down to Scot
land yard and confded my troubles to
! an inspector in what is now called the
criminal investigation department. I"
This resulted one Sunday morning in
m prDtp r l,o.l-facE
gentleman named Bunter An odd look
ing person, who had strange propen-
sity for peering and prying about, and
appearing to take a great fancy to the
house. 1t was just the sort of place he
wished
On this pretext introduced him to the
landlord, with view possibly of max
ing it worth that individuals while to
hand him over the lease. In this way
he managed to go all over the establish
ment and converse with everybody living
III it-everybody except the gentleman
who occupied the top story-the one per-
son | did not know. My friend from
Scotland yard was particularly inquisi-
tive about him since he could not see
him, and when told him that his habits
were irregular, coming home very late,
and occasionally not going out at all for
days, the official looked grave, finally
winked at me and said he would call
| again shortly.
But he never had the occasion to do so,
for it was during the night following the
visit Of this distinguished guest that |
discovered who was the thief and ar
rived at the secret of the mystery.
The month was August, the nights
hot and sultry, and less than ever condu-
Give to sleep. had nothing to do that
evening, and although | turned in early
it was with the usual result. The clocks
had just struck /, and had been in bed
since II without closing my eyes. 1t
was the old story; | was accustomed to
it. Suddenly. amid the host of perplex-
ing and often awe inspiring thoughts
whirling through ones brain under these
/ conditions, | remembered that pocket
! letter case containing the two 81 Scotch
! bank notes. Where was it? | had not
/ seen it for weeks. After restlessly striv-
4 ing to drive away the desire to get up
! and search for it it mastered me, and out
/ of bed | sprang. For fully an hour |
carried on the quest, but all in vain.
/ Every conceivable and inconceivable
corner, drawer and pocket was ran
sacked The key Of the escritoire had
been mislaid, so | could not examine
that; but knew it contained little else
than papers.
At length, entirely exhausted, irritat-
ed and fevered, and with the chamber
candle expiring with sputter, flung
myself on a couch III the drawing room.
Dawn had not yet broken, but in few
minutes, as | lay there cooled up in my
dressing gown, unexpectedly fell asleep
a restless, dreaming sleep, full of fan
tastic, weirdlike, indescribable shapes
When awOke it was daylight, though
the room was still shadowy and obscure
save in one spot close to the long win
dow, where the Venetian blind was part
! ly raised-the window nearest that dark
corner occupied by the old escritoire.
The head of the couch was toward the
mantelpiece, but almost facing the door
from the landing on the farther side of
the wall
At the moment opened my eyes with
a feeling of relief at having just escaped
some visionary peril to my amazement
saw that door slowly open and the
figure of a man stealthily entering by it.
1t did not make the faintest sound on its
hinges, nor did he with his footstep-not
SO much as the creaking of plank The
light in that part of the room was far too
dim to allow Of my seeing what he was
like. His face was slightly averted also,
and, except that the general look of the
man seemed to be not altogether I'M
familiar j could not in the least tell who
he was. The first impulse of course was
to sit up and call out, but for some mex
plicable reason | restrained it; perhaps
because the thought instantly crossed
my mind that here was the thief, and
upon that suppose | rapidly con-
Guided to watch him and pretend to be
still sleeping.
However this may be, did not move
as | observed him creep noiselessly across
the room to the end of the mantelpiece
farthest from that where | was lying.
He appeared not to notice me, and after
feeling with his hand for moment be-
tween the edge of the looking glass and
the wall by the mantelshelf he took
something away and Instantly crossed
back to the window by the escritoire.
He passed the little gap Of light so quick