The Marion daily mirror. (Marion, Ohio) 1892-1912, 1912-01-13

the world. She turned 10 rOseWOou
desk and took up telephone.
Creamery, s--7--4--6," she called.
'The Efingham? MIR. Ranscome,
please e.-This is Mrs. Missioner, Mr.
Ranscome. am at home
Can you come up for a few minutesI
THANK you,v and as she returned
the receiver to the hook, she explain
ed: "Ranscome is the oldest expert
in New York
"while we are about IT," said Sands
slowly, I'VE may as we'll call head
quarters" He reached for the tele-
phone, but his hand was stayed by
Dorothy's fluttering fingers.
"oh, Brrxton," she said, please
don't call the police" and as his eye
brows went up, she added, "I am so
frightened"
81 wouldn't be hasty, Sands" said
Griswold. The newspapers follow
the sleuths, you know"
I'm not think of the newspapers
replied Mrs. Missioner, but maybe
we'd better wait for Mr. Ranscome.
You see," and there was perplexity
In the glance that swept the group,
"this is no ordinary theft"
mot a burglary, you think?" asked
Griswold quickly. He had lighted his
cigarette, and, leaning back In cozy
corner of the inglenook was smoking
with little abrupt puffs that con-
trasted with the ease of his position.
He studied the widow covertly
through weaving wreaths.
"If burglar could reach this room,
| must reorganize my household" she
murmured. She was gazing into the
flames Her shoulders dropped, and
Sands, noticing her WEAKNESS,
switched of the lights. The rainbow
sparkle of the jewel trays varied fan
tastically the pattern of the rug on
which they lay. but the background OF
dusk rested her
And there is no one you suspectT
There is no one in the house can
suspect"
"You are to be congratulated" Girls
wold commented, with smile dis
creetly divided between sincerity and
satire. And, Of course. having such
an impeccable household"
"If were you, Doris" Sands broke
in impatiently, I'D send for the po-
lice at once" His slow logic had car
ried him to the fact that even now
the thief might be on the road to es-
cape. Little Miss March glanced at
him admiringly. Swift or slow OF wit,
the man of action appeals.
81 think Mr.. Sands is right, Mrs.
Missioner" she said softly ut fright
ened me at first, but Bruxton knows"
advise me-" said the widow, her
satin slipper tap-tap-tappiug the fen
der Of FURNISHED )rass. 81 am not
testing when | say | am in the hands
of my friends. All this IS more than
puzzling."
"Puzzling!" echoed Dorothy. "It's
n mystery-and it's all very dreadful
too" Sands looked at her, smiling
There was eloquence in those rare
smiles of his. much more than in his
speech. Not without cause did Wal
Street know him as "Silent" Sands.
why not private detective?'
Griswold suggested. 1T is the bes
way to recover stolen property"
Mr.. Ranscome, madam"
A footman of conventional natterI
stood on the threshold as II on |
pedestal and looked at Mrs. Missione
from a carven face.
Let him come up, Blodgett,' sh
responded, The carven feature
blurred into the background. A roun,
ilt.e UeA with the face of dreame
a'',. Ehs eyes of student entered, a
, most On his toes, Mrs. Missione
greeted him pleasantly, and as sh
! pressed the button that filled IN
room with light again. she presente
, him to her friends. "Mr. Ranscome,
! she added, rs an expert OF experts.
. Briefly the widow recounted the az
/ cident in the opera box, the discover
! of the supposed Maharanee dif
/ monds worthlessness, and her SUI
3 plcion as to the other stones Of he
4 necklace. During her recital Rams
! comes glance caressed the gems 4
D the scattered trays, and II was by
a visible effort that he wrested his eye
| lIOm tucm 10 lOOh 1T lut blOhSs VI
- the table.
|. Are they real?" asked the widow
e The little man seemed not to hea
0 her.
e did you say, madam. the Maharl
e nee diamond?"
$ Eyes" she answered, and waves c
0 pain rippled across her face. "Ot
8 Mr. Ranscome, think of it-think q
Q it," She clasped her hands so tense
$ ly the rings upon them bit her flesl
k Think OF II, Mr.. Ranscomew
L "The Maharanee!" he murmured-
y say, rather. groaned In an underton'
"A glorious jewel, a wonderful jewe
Il queens jewel! Gone, did you say
r Absolutely gone--not a trace of itY'
d With the fiat OF his hand, he sprea
y the smaller stones on the table, strol
T. Ing their gloss with sensitive finger
Il He held three or four to the ligh
then. with disdainful gesture, smea
5. ed the glistening pile broadcast acroi
c. the board.
p None" replied the widow. "Ar
:. those?"
"Theae Mrs MisRiOnern tha aYne