The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1902-09-14
BY
David Christie
Murray
Author OF "A LIES
Atonement," "ln
Direst Peril y etc.

lice against the devices or the professional |
housebreaker. In the small hours we came |
upon an officer in a by-street who was
flashing his dark lantern upon every door
and every shattered window with what |
seemed to me almost needless scrutiny.
But my guide. the officer. and i getting
into conversation together, 1 made &C
quaintance with a fact OF much interest,
which revealed an unsupported ingenuity
and caution. Very small fragments OF all
sorts of the ininitesimal debris Of the
streets-bits OF wooden matches, inch-long
fractions of straw, atoms OF split quill
toothpicks-had been thrust into the inter-
stices OF doors and shutters on former
round. and on his succeeding rounds the
careful watcher was picking up all these
signals as he walked. They would have
been invisible to any felonious disturber.
but their absence would have told tale
to the man who had placed them there.
The small trap does tell its tale in hun
dreds OF cases in a year. A door or a shut
ter has been tempered with-almost neces-
sarily i'm the dark-and there follows sus-
piclon and, IL necessary, a stealthy gath
ering OF the forces, and then the surround
ing OF a block Of buildings and capture.
1t does no harm at all to instruct the pro-
fessional housebreaker as to this device.
for of the many fragments of desiccated
street rubbish he may find in any Granny of
an entrance he cannot tell which one will
be looked for by the man who placed IL
there, and the one which is apparently the
least significant of them all may be that
which the absence of will inevitably be-
tray him.
The man from Bow street and were not
fated to bring our brief association to
close without a touch of comedy drama.
My three days investigation had revealed
the fact that had been set going on in
sufficient knowledge, and that the journal
istic sensation in search of which had set
out was altogether illusory. My guide was
conveying me to Bow-street Station to
make his final report, and we were ready
to say goodbye. We were walking towards
the Lyceum Theater, which was at that
moment dismissirg matinee audience. AS
yet we were In the mere fringe of it, when
my companion touched me lighty-it might
have been by accident-oh the elbow. But
the touch had the effect Of drawing my at
tention to three gentlemen who came arm
in arm Tor, at least, in friendly contact
which had that look) along the pavement.
The two outer men were frock-coated and
silk-hatted and eminently respectable. The
middle man was parson, with fiat
trimmed felt hat with a cord around it and
an NJ b. waistcoat. The three were laugh
ing together. and the cleric seemed to lead
the talk. They went by. and in another
instant we were in the thick of the crowd.
II know that chap" my guide said,
guardedly, a minute later. L asked which
| chap. THAT parson. 1 don't pretend, mind
| you, to have actually spotted him, but 1
know him. You take my word for 1t. I
know him. He's changed, but he isn't
| changed quite enough for me. Mr.. Irving"
| (the great actor was not Sir Henry them
| sis playing Macbeth and that's the third
| time I've seen that chap turn out of the
| theater. Takes an uncommon interest in
| Shakespeare don't you Think"
1 really did not the spur of the
| moment what ought to think, and kept
| a Discreet silence. but whilst we were ar
| ranging a little business matter essential
| to friendly severance there came a COM
| missionaire from Lyceum Theatsr with
| message from Mr.. Bran Stoker. There
| had been complaints at the box office. The
| stalls and foyer and vestibule were fire.
| quented within the last few days by very
able pickpocket, or gang Of pickpockets,
and would Bow street be so good as to
send down an experienced man to keep an
| eye on things In general.
'Lordy. lordy, lordy!" said my guide
''To think L should have had a moments
doubt. To be sure, it's ten years since, but
bless my soul alive ought to have known
him anywhere" I hope I may give no
offense to fine artist in more ways than
II w II haf fha to
my friends suspicious instantly leaped had
| a very striking resemblance to Mr.. Forbes
Robertson. That means, of course, that he
had a face of the ascetic intellectual cast
| 1t turned out afterwards that he had been
an ascetic-for nine years-at Portland, and
he was undoubtedly a man of brains Nat
urally I kept track of the business until 1t
| finished. and a week later saw the parson
in the dock. But in the interim / met that
old lynx-eyed guardian of the Strand, who
told me with professionally restrained
| enjoyment how he had nailed his man. He
had. of course, been allowed his own dis
| erection as to how far he should take the
| run Of the house. and he had confined him
self 10 the upper circle and to one box,
from which he was able to take observa-
lions Of the stalls. Complaints continued
to be made at the box Office, but the
watcher was In no such hurry that he was
disposed to spoil case. He watched three
| days before he was entirely certain, and
! then he strolled down into the vestibule
and awaited the outcoming of the crowd.
The parson came with the rest. closing the
case of his opera glasses as he walked. and
smiling like man well pleased.
I tapped him on the shoulder and he
turned. He knew me in second. Perhaps
| I'd changed less than he had. OF course,
It's always business to avoid row. and I
says. quite respectfully. I'D like word
If you could spare the time. SIR Well. of
course. he could spare time, and plenty of
it. "Oh," he says, quite cheerful and chip
py, that you, Partridge?" he says. why.
certainly" We walked up the street to-
gether. and says he: Its like my bally
luck" he says. 'T wouldn't have minded