The Princeton union., 1900-02-22

Quest word for word, but with an
other title. Now, Mr.. Seymour, we
paid $50 for that story. That is not
the worst Of it. We have another story
from the same scoundrel, accepted and
paid for. AS you know, we do not
usually pay for stories until after they
are published; but in this case the al
legged writer said he was leaving the
country and would sell both cheap if
they We're taken at once. We took him
up, and he-took us in. Now, do you
think you can find the rascal if he is
still in this country?"
"Well, certainly can try. What sort
of Il man was he?" asked.
"Ah, that is another difficulty. Ihave
never seen him. All our business was
done by mail. Here is the address to
which the letters and finally the money
were sent. That is all you will have
to work upon. Stop--here is one of
the mans letters: you may need it; and
here is the book from which 'Daisy's
Quest was copied. Report to me if
you discover anything." And the
great man, for managing editors are
great men to reporters, rang his bell
to signify that the interview was over.
My first detective job! ] had had
three years of journalism, and had
found it commonplace work. Here was
my reward. Fame was within my
grasp. But was it? I read the letter
in my hand:
"sir-I beg to submit to you as editor Of
the Gazette the enclosed stories, in the hope
that they will be found suitable for your
columns AS 1 expect to leave soon for
England it would be 4 convenience could
you pay in advance Of publication for one
or both of the papers here offered. The
usual rate of compensation paid by the Ga
zette will be satisfactory. Very truly
yours.
JAMES C. DANDERS,
'3lS East Thirteenth Street"
So much for the letter. The book
was an odd volume, dated 1S4s, of an
English magazine, the Londoner, long
since dead. Such was my material.
Obviously my first lead was to go
to the address given and inquire for
James G. Danders. The place proved
to be a cheap saloon. The barkeeper
knew but little of Danders, who came
there only for his mail and at long in
tervals; for the last fortnight he had
not been there at all. Evidently Mr..
Danders had covered his tracks. For
all knew, he might be sending out
more stolen stories from the saloon on
the next corner. I drank some beer,
more because 1 wanted to pump the
bartender than for inspiration.
''What sort of man was Danders?'
echoed the bartender, in answer to my
question. well, not man that you
young fellow, perhaps 25 years old, red
dish hair, chin-whiskers, rather secdy
dress. When he came he'd sit there of
an evening reading the papers till clos
ing time. Never had much to say. and
never made no friends. But he paid for
his beer like man.
This last comment may have been a
reminder that l had not paid for my
| beer. L paid, and took a ten-mile walk
| to think the problem over. Surely some
! ideas would come in the course of ten
miles. [ went up Fifth avenue to the
end of the park and down along The
| west side. It was cold, blowy day IN
early May, and l felt chilled when /
reached my own part of the town un-
| der the shadow of the Jefferson Market
building. I knew that my own room
| would be chilly, and so cast about me
for some warm and pleasant place
| where l might rest and turn over In
| my mind the few, very few, ideas that
| my tenmilc tramp had brought up.
They hardly deserved to be. called ideas;
I was about rs much in the dark as
when [ started out. So far as I could
see, my only chance of finding Mr.. Dan
ders was to become an habitue of the
saloon in Thirteenth street. The no
ton was not a pleasant one. 1t might
be days or weeks before Danders ap.
| peared. Or, again. he might not ap.
pear at all. lie mi ght have been telling
the truth when he wrote that he was
about to sail for England. This de.
| tective business was not all it had been
cracked up to be.
Somewhat disheartened, I turned
into the secondhand book-shop of my