Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-07-11

One August day about three years ago.
was summoned to Boston by telegram for
eonm,ltation in a case that had bothered
the police officials of that city to such an
extent that they were obliged to call In out
side help. Generally made the trip on the
Fall River boat. but the urgency OF the
telegram forced me to lose no time, ana
o'clock in the afternoon found me seated
in the smoking compartment OF coach
on the flyer"
had lighted a cigar. when the door open
Cd and tall, broad-shouldered gentleman
entered and sat down opposite to me- Al
first / felt annoyed, for l wished TO meol-
tate upon the case to which was going;
but, after another glance at the newcomer
resigned myself to a possible conversation
with him. Minute after minute passed py
and my companion did not speak. Present
ly he started. as If from an unpleasant rev.
erie. and took from his inner coat pocket
a handsome cigar case with gold mono
gram upon it. Opening 1t. his eyes dwelt
dreamily upon the photograph OF woman.
as he slowly drew out perfecto. When he
raised his hand 1 noticed a peculiar ring on
the third finger. 1t was a snakes head
looking out from between the arms OF let
ter "V'' made of small diamonds, while
the eyes of the snake were beautifully clear
emeralds
Then l recollected that I had seen a
similar ring at fencing exhibition of the
Manhattan Club the previous winter. This
man had won a final against Alex. Van
Cruger a rising young sculptor, and 1 re-
membered the circumstance the more easily
because 1t had been said there was i'll feel
ing between the men. Van Cruger had won
the hand of a society belle at whose shrine
my present companion had Worshiped with
hopes of success. But Van Cruger, young,
handsome, rich, bearing home the laurels
of European triumphs, appeared In social
circles and bore off one more of the world 8
prizes, the love of Helen Maitland.
The ring had attracted my attention at
the fencing match by its peculiar design.
had some curious Jewels myself, and had
read what literature / could find upon the
subject. 1t seemed to me, as l looked at
the ring that had read of such design
before In some historical connection.
longed to question Mr.. Hamilton, for such
was the name of the gentleman who now
sat opposite me.
During a ride of about three hours my
companion did not speak to me, but sat
gazing moodily out of the window. There
was something about the man that l did
not lke-not the signs of stern resolution
and an indomitable will that his features
bore, but the CLEAN of cruelty and treach-
cry that occasionally crept into his eyes.
At the Newport Junction he left the coach
and boarded the waiting Newport train,
remembered having read in the fashionable
items of late daily that Miss Maitland's
people were at their Newport residence,
and also that Van Cruger had been called
to Paris by an order from the French gov
eminent. 1 thought to myself: Now that
the field Is clear, my friend will have his
innings over again, and 1t will be well
played. II my study of his face is a correct
one"
Time passed and all thought of my after
noon trip and my silent companion had
long since fed. when one day my chief sent
for me. On the way from my rooms up
town I bought a paper and read the no.
tice Of the death, by heart failure, Of the
talented young sculptor, Alex. Van Cruger
He had been found dead upon his studio
floor that morning by the 1anitor of the
building where his rooms were.
When I entered the office of the chief
he asked me If l had heard of Van Cruger's
death. Upon my reply that had Just been
reading about 1t in the papers, he said:
Carroll Miss Maitland is almost frantic
with grief. and insists that Van Cruger
was murdered Now, that Is all nonsense,
for DIR. Everett says there never was a
palmer case of apparent heart failure, Still
you may well go up to the studio and
look around. Poor fellow! he had just been
modelling a beautiful bust of Miss Matt
land and was found lying almost beneath
1T"
When reached Van Cruger's rooms was
admitted without difficulty. Upon a work.
ing table stood clay model of Miss Matt
cred.
lights and began my search. Nothing