Twice-a-week plain dealer. (Cresco, Howard County, Iowa) 1895-1913, 1899-10-13
unless he or she had a privaye- copy d


In half an hour I was at the library,
where my story was told to the head
librarian, who was quite friend of
ours and more than willing to help the
Gazette. The system pursued at the
library made 1t easy to find out when
book had been used. and by whom,
Every reader had to fill up blank card
with the name Of the volume wanted
and sign it. Each days cards, several
hundred in number, were preserved. 1t
would be matter of time and patience
to wade through this mass, beginning
few days before Danders' letter to the
Gazette and going back, but this was
one of the tests of born detective; he
ought to shadow man for months
without complaint; go without food or
sleep for week-in fact, make per-
feet martyr of himself and enjoy 1t.
The librarian was willing to allow
me to search the cards for what
wanted, and I began work at once,
sticking to it until the closing gong
rang through the building. In the three
hours so occupied went over the cards
of two weeks without finding that any
one had called for the Iondoner. 1t was
quite possible that there might be other
volumes of that copy floating about
the city; the rascal who called himself
Danders might have picked one up for
few cents. I went home In discon-
ISOLATE mood, going mile out of my way
to stop at the saloon in Thirteenth
street, where my barkeeping friend told
me that Danders had not reappeared.
"I'll give five dollars to get two
minutes glance at Danders. There's
my address. Send messenger for me
when Danders comes, and the money
will be yours"
The man understood. Walking home
an idea came to me. If the Manhattan
library's copy of the Londoner for 1s4s
had been used within month or two,
the dust upon 1t would not be so thick
as upon volumes that were never dis
turbed, say the volumes of that bril-
liant periodical, the Congressional Rec
ord
A good nights sleep put new heart
into me, and before the doors of the
library opened was there. So were
eight or ten other eager workers, evil
IDENTIFY professional readers, to whom
the Manhattan's books were tools. One
man, whom I recognized as a designer
of theatrical costumes, told me he came
to look for ideas in the great art works
of France and Germany, and seldom
came away from his days work without
sketches enough to provide whole
burlesque company with costumes;
which, however, to those who know the
sort of costumes affected by bur-
lesquers, is not, perhaps, saying much.
Several of my companions on the steps
might have been students; one was a
tramp, who wanted days rest in a
comfortable chair; and another, with
whom scraped acquaintance day or
two later, was clerk in big publish
ing house.
One figure in the little group partic-
ularly interested me, that of a dark
young girl, apparently not more than
IS or 10 years of age, who seemed out
of place among these workers. There
was nothing of the student about her,
and not much of the worker; her dress
was extremely neat, and, to my mex
pert eyes, even fashionable. Slender,
dark, quiet, decidedly pretty and de-
cidedly lady, her one idea seemed to
be to get into the library as soon as pos
sible and without attracting attention.
1t was something of q surprise to me to
note later in the day that this young
woman, instead of porting over novel,
was copying extracts from volumes al
most as big as herself.
Nine o'clock struck, the big doors of
the library swung open, and our little
group, now numbering at least score
of persons, filed in and scattered. /
took up my pile of cards where I had
left off, and went at it pending the ar
rival of the librarian. That gentleman
smiled at my suggestion to examine
the copy of the Londoner for 1S4S, but
good-naturedly led the way to an alcove
in the second story. In the semi-dark-
ness almost ran over a young fellow
carrying an armful of books, one of the
attendants of the library. The partic-
ular copy of the Londoner was found,
and no second glance was needed to
show that it had been taken down more
recently than any of its fellows upon
the same shelf. Plainly it was worth
while to keep on with my search among
the cards.
When noon came stopped, tired and
hungry, having gone back full month
without finding what I sought. AS l
crossed the main hall of the library to
leave for luncheon, the young girl l
had noticed at the door was carrying
one of her big books back to the desk.
She staggered under the weight.
"Will you allow me to help you?"
whispered, for loud talk is forbidden In
side the library. And, taking her smile
ried it to the desk.
'Thank you," she whispered, and
was gone.
met her again on my way back from
luncheon. l was so tired with my
mornings work that ventured upon
little stroll towards one of my favor
lite haunts in the Bowery, book-stall
where 1 had sometimes found treas
ures. Hope deferred, says the poet or
somebody else, maketh the heart sick:
and my hopes had been aroused and
deferred several thousand times that
morning. Upon every card took up
l had hoped to see "Londoner Maya
zine, 1885," and had seen nothing of
the kind. The sleuth-hound within me
was tired out. Another day of it, and l
should ask to have some one else do