Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1907-10-10
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IAEe HCAS lDOAlH- lOA Hc 4idu IOL OtCA
all his life in Paris he had neither father
nor mother living-but beyond that there
was little enough about his family his
tory. The court had offered to appoint
lawyer to defend him, which offer the
prisoner had refused and had made not
unable speech in his own behalf, which
in all likelihood had been the, means of
sensibly influencing the court, for in
pronouncing sentence the judge had ex-
pressed his regret that the prisoner had
misused his talents to commit the crime
with which he stood charged. Though
he examined all the papers connected
with the case Casa gne was unable TO
discover anything by which the identity
of the two persons could be more fully
established.
We have yet the locket," he said, at
length, 'hich perhaps may help u.s."
But it is the locket of Henry, not
Philip Graham" said D'Auburon.
Il have not forgotten that" replied
the detective. But a family likeness is
a strong thing sometimes. This portrait
of Henry Graham is undoubtedly a good
likeness. Recollect that DR.. Mason, the
laundress, the janitor at Blois and the
priest at Belliers have all recognized it as
his portrait. 1t was taken when he was
quite a young man. Sometimes father
and son, at the same age, very closely re-
semble each other. If there should be
strong likeness between the portrait and
Philip La SOUR whom should you take
the latter to be-"
why, Philip Graham, of course, as we
have all along hoped; but what of that?
We have no portrait with which to com
pare it."
You forget" replied Cassagne, the
admirable collection of photographs at
police headquarters
Which is under the strict surveillance
of the project of police. Do you sup
pose he would allow US to look at them,
when our success means his defeat? Not
exactly; why, we could never get beyond
the door"
q will take care of that" replied NJ
Cassagne.
NJ. Cassagne, on parting with his
friend, buttoned up his coat with the
air of a man who prepares himself for
energetic action, and passing across the
river, plunged into the most intricate re-
cesses of the Latin Quarter. Before
crossing the river, however, he had stop
ped at a famous confectioner's and pur-
chased a box of bon-bons. What did NJ.
Cassagne want with such things?
Arrived at a house in the Rue Bat
tiney, NJ. Cassagne stepped inside the
hallway and pressed his finger on a small
white button. The sound of an electric
bell ringing upstairs was almost immedi-
NoI1o h. H..
down the speaking tube:
who is there?"
is that Madame Cresson?" inquired
the detective, in a low but distinct voice
1T is"
81 am Alfred Cassagne. Let me come
upstairs. / want to see you about i'm
portant business"
A changing sound was heard, and a
black door which had hitherto prevented
ingress to the stairway, released by a
spring, swung slowly back upon its
hinges. The detective stepped on to the
stairs, and, closing the door after him
with some care, assembled to the second
story.
\ small, dark complexioned woman.
apparently about twenty-five years of age.
opened the door of one of the apartments
and invited him to enter. The room was
neatly furnished and was evidently one
of suite. At a table near one of the
windows a little girl sat doing sums on a
slate. She had the black hair of her
mother; a beautiful, s3ucy. piquant
mouth eyes of a deep. scintillating blue
and little figure that was the very per
lection of childish grace She arose on
the entrance of the detective, and ran
toward him, holding out both hands.
"Ah! Papa Alfred, how do you do?"
she exclaimed. Have you brought me
some bonbOns?'
"A kiss first" cried the detective, lift
ing her in his arms.
Mile Celeste Cresson having complied
by placing both arms around his neck
and putting her charming mouth to his,
he set her down on the floor and babe
her search for the bon-bons, in the course
of which she brought to light great
many articles of Papa Cassagne's pecu-
liar calling, all of which she placed in
her apron, declaring she would never sur
render them.
At length, having found her bon-bons.
her playmate was at liberty to address
himself to the young mother, who all
this time had been standing by clapping
her hands. and seemingly evincing as
much delight, when a wig or a pair of
handouts was unearthed from the, depths
of the detectives capacious pockets, as
the child herself.
Nine. Rosa Cresson. from whose face
ali trace of amusement had now vanished.
and who sat easily in her chair prepared
to listen to the detective. was a woman
with history. Married at an early age
and cruelty deserted by her husband, she
had been thrown upon her own resources.
There were ma y occupations open to her
by which she 3ould have earned a living
She could have found employment in
dressmaking had she chosen, for she was
an expert with her needle. She could
have taught the piano, or set up as a
translator of foreign documents, for she
was a very fine linguist. Her personal
charms and accomplishments were great
enough TO have induced many a theat
rical manager to take her up and proba-
bly, she would have drfted on to the stage
If it had not been for a slight incident
which turned her from it. and presenting
an opening in an entirely new field, de-
One day she entered the Bon Marche
to do some shopping. She had made her
purchases, paid for them and had reached
the door when a heavy hand was laid
upon her shoulder Turning, she was con-
fronted by one of the foorwalkers. who
accused her of taking piece of silk from
the counter. Indignant at the charge, she
made an imprisoned appeal. on the spur
of the moment, to a gentleman standing
near. Her appeal was successful, The
gentleman accompanied her into the Office
of the manager, became voucher for her
honesty. and offered if given half an
hours time to produce the stolen prop
erty The time was accorded him, and
he left the Office, to return with the piece
of silk in question, which he had COM
PEELED a notorious female shoplifter to
disgorge just as she was being bowed out
by an obsequious shopman to her carriage
You had better strike the Marquise de
Brabant from your books, monsieur" he
had observed, laconically, when the man
ager insisted that one of his best Gus
toners had been insulted.