The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1899-01-11
TRAPPED.

sTwo hundred pounds reward! Now,
here's your chance, Jimmy" !" raped
out my chief one morning. "Camden
Town-yoar own neighborhood. The
poIice up there are making confoupd-
ed mystery Of it. 1t ought to be simple
as clockwork. Ha, ha! Twenty bales OF
rare silk. worth thousands, consigned
all the way from Lyons to ,jowetts, the
big west end diapers. Jowetts agent
rughes off to the station to meet 1t and
finds that some rogues have got there
one hour before him. presented forged
credentials and driven off with the
stuff in q van in broad twilight. Now
Soon after midnight constable noted
Just such van as described suspicious
Iy rounding the corner of Windygate
street, Camden Town, and at that very
minute. mark you, some ono ran up and
led him off with bogus tale of MUIR
der going on at the other end Of his
beat. When be got back. van gone and
all beautifully quiet.
"Here are two days gone and no de-
yelopments. Jowetts, half mad because
the kind of silk spoils in no time unless
kept very dry, have been here and
offered e2OU for immediate recovery.
There you are! Windygate street is
cul de sac, with about so or 60 houses
in it. The silk mag be slowed in any
ens Of them, and all the local p.lice
have done is to put an extra man on
watch at the open end on the chance
that there will be an attempt to remove
Che bales OF you go! l give you "a
hours.
hurried out with confident smile.
In less than an hour had gotto Windy
gate street-a quiet double row Of
houses Of featureiess three story type
and was IN time to see the especial
man exchanging chafl with servant
girl at the opposite corner. He said
something, and she tripped off. Anoth-
er stare. and then he passed me with
confidential whisper.
"Thought / knew you, Mr.. Girdle-
stone. It's all right-a bit Of business.
That's the girl at house half way
down. Knows nearly every one in the
street and ready to talk all day. Oh,
I'm careful, sir! We don't want 'em to
take fright and destroy the silk. No, not
ghost Of clew so far. sir, except the
van business. There's the rut by the
curb where it turned, and then much
lighter one where it was turned back,
unloaded no doubt. There's been no rain
since. Saucyl But, bless you. sir. it
might be done every night. There's not
soul stirring here after H."
"Humph! Shift your point dozen
yards higher up, out of sight. and let
me know anything that happens.
There'll be rag and bottle man along
here presently. you understand.
hurried home. 1t was barely ten
minutes walk. Half an hour later l
was leaving again by the back entrance,
SO dirty and disreputable that my own
wife had given start. To hire barrow
and stack some rubbish on it was sim
plicity itself. Within the hour was
wheeling it into Windygate street,
shouting hoarsely record price for rags
and cid bottles. At every area door
had the impudence to knock and relter-
ate the statement, and at one likely
looking house even contrived to trip
over the STEP bring down some glass
With an unnerving crash and sham
giddiness. No use. 1t merely provoked
the remark "Serve him rightl' At the
end Of my arduous round was only the
richer by barrow load of unconsidered
tri6es. Until nearly dusk l hung about
the place, and then, with few whis-
oered instructions to the constable on
watch, trudged back home to think out
o more definite plan Of action.
It must have been about s O'Clock
when as sat studying the Camden Town
Directory the nosc curious, undreamed
of coincidence occurred The bell rang
hesitatingIy, pause, and then my wife
tapped to say tha: q young person ap-
Darently in trouble, wished to see me
upon private business. Next moment
young lady in Widows weeds had float
ed impressively into the room and was
raisirs her veil from white, worried
face.
"Mr. Girdlestone-th police inspect
or?'' she queried quickly in voice as
singularly sweet as her expression, and
bowed. Her description was near
enough for tho nonce ''Then, l hope
YOU won't think me silly, but really |
felt as if could put up with it no longer
Or, If my dear husband were only
here!" A touching pause. broken by
half sob, then: My name is Varney
I live at 9 Windygate street-if you
know it, sir. 1t may sound strange, but
20 in fear OF something happening al
most in fear of my lifel You know.
when dear Harold died had to let the
ground and first floor, to man named
winston and his wife.
"They seemed strange from tho firs'
and kept all their doors locked. Then
ahey began TO have mysterious visitors
aonp after dark, and my servant KEPT
waking me at night to say she could moi
sleep for the queer noises. I'm positive
Ahere's something wrong. and yet
aaren't say anything, for there are fire
arms about-the man deliberately sho
NV cat one day because it looked at hi
canary. But that's not all. These Las
awo days there has been contlnua
.a;aeing sound down in tha basement