New Britain herald., 1916-12-13
What Nadge and Dicky Saw in the Woods Near the COsgrOve
 Farmhouse.

Woods Near the COSgrOve
 Farmhouse.
 When Dicky told me that for fifteen years the fate of Robert Savarin had been unknown, l felt that at last l held in my hands the threads of the mystery of the Cosgrove farmhouse in the Catskills which had 50 puzzled me.
 After our first supper at the farm house the evening before, we had been shown a, collection of pictures in the farmhouse parlor from the brush or Mrs. Cosgrove's brother, Robert Savarin.
 DickN had recognized the artlstS work at once. and had pronounced the collection to be worth at least $5O,O0o.
 The hysterical joy of Mrs. CosgroVe at the announcement, ~r cJaculatlon cleverly stopped by her husband, what this will mean to Robert!" the midnight excursion of MT. and Mrs. Cosgrove and one of their sons, and theN anxiety of the woman to keep secret the difference between her twin sons-all these things pointed, in my mind, to some dangerous secret in possession of the Cosgrove family
 But Dicky's words had given me the clue.
 Robert SaVarin must be alive, and for some reason his sister and her family were keeping secret the fact that he was living.
 I knew how Dicky would ridicule any such suggestion on my part. I resolved not to have to assume any enthusiasm, for I was really wildly excited over the story. "Don't be mean, Dicky. Go on, tell me the whole story, there's a dear"
 "All right Dicl<y responded promptly, Ion one condition, that you walk along while I'm talking. I want to get to casting some time today
 I jumped up with alacrity.
 "Thats a bargain" I said, slipping my hand into his. "Now proceed"
 "Well, gentle reader" Dicky began, oratorically "the story Is simply this:
 "F1fteen years ago Robert Savarin was the romantic mystery of the New York studios. He was one Of those fellows with mighty lofty ideals about his work, and he never lowered them the way most of us have" There was just a tinge of self-reproachful bitter ness in Dicky's tone, but it was gone in an instant
 "He had worked like truck horse for years in the Paris studios. His work was years ahead of his day. and for a long time there was practically no sale for it. but he stuck to 1t doggedly, painting picture after pie ture, which commanded such small prices that he would never sell ono until actually driven to it by imminent starvation.
 ''11C was nlSyt eriOuS sort Of a fol- low. All the traditions of the studios gay he was a prince at heart, generous 10 a fault, shy as a timid girl, but with a tendency to melancholy that grew more pronounced as his chance for success seemed to get farther and farther away.
 The Furtive Stranger
 There was some sort of vague story going the rounds then of Savarin's en- tanglement with some girl-rumor said he was terribly hard hit At any rate, he suddenly disappeared from the knowledge of every one who had ever known him.
 "He had few intimates, and after perfunctory police search he was given up as dead, and tho paintings he had left in his studio were seized for the small debts he owed and sold at auction.
 'Tt has not been long now since his work commenced to have a voc1lc The real merit of 1t has been dis covered. The big picture dealers have been quietly getting hold of all his stuff they could find and the prices on them have loaped higher and higher, in the way such things have. "How this collection up here came to be overlooked I can't imagine. If he's really dead, 1t means a fortune to these people.
 By Jove!" Dicky's exclamation was 1 in such @ different tone than the story l he had been telling me that 1t startled me His voice was low. excited, and as l he spoke he drew me aside quickly ] into the shelter of some bushes. As | he did so, I caught sight of a man 1 furtively slipping along the hank of 1 the stream, casting quick glances from side to side, as if looking for some onc Diclxy Recognizes Him. Just ahead of us there was a mag nificent oak with one big limb curved l in such curious fashion that it turned