The Bismarck tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, N.D.) 1916-current, 1924-08-16
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W Ma2eK Thief
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THE JEWELED CASKET
CopyriSl,, 1914


| The cripple was ready to fight. bu,
the White Eagle was wary old cam
palgner. He believed that woulc
IRE, and so he sharply again ordered
the hunchback to obey. At the muzzle
OF my pistol Letter bound, with the
lmpromptu ropes that | had manu-.
featured frop the neckties, the hands
and feet Of his master. Then made
the cripple insert his wrist through
a slip-noose. I drew it tight, and
the rest was easy. The use of towels
as gags was unnecessary.
And a few minutes later | decided
that it had not been necessary even
to bind them. In fact, my presence
here was unnecessary. For the An
derson jewel-boX could not be found
IN the expansive overcoat pockets of
either Of them. Nor had they left
1T IN the hall downstairs, or i'm the
drawing room, or anywhere else in
the house.
1t must have been delivered to n
confederate waiting outside the mil
lionalre's house. Yet this | did not
believe. The White Eagle was not
the sort who lets some one else take
charge of the spells of his warfare
against society.
"Perhaps," said Cochet as / re-
turned from my, fruitless search of
the premises, "monsieur is ready to
apologize"
In truth, ] was. From my pocket
drew a jackknife. ! opened it and
placed it on the floor.
ut will take you perhaps fifteen
minutes to saw your bonds" / told
Cochet And despite monsieurs af-
fable manner. | feel that need
quarter of an hour in which to dis
appear"
Cochet smiled; but behind that
smile lay deadly menace. Always,
from now on, more dangerous
enemy than the police would be at
my heels. Though he smiled, Cochet
would never forgive this indignity.
"Bon soir, messieurs," ] said. u
had failed, but ! tried to carry off
my failure with u good grace. am
not your vulgar crook who descends
to threat or torture. My reasoning
had been sound. ! did not believe
that the box had been surrendered
to confederate, but whatlis belief
in the face of fact?
"You will have time to escape from
this house." | said, "before the po-
lice arrive here, provided that there
is some element of truth in the jests
l heard you exchange. Because
have been unfortunate is no reason
that should wish you i'll fortune
Again, good evening, gentlemen"
And then | saw CLEAN of triumph
on the delicate face of the hunch-
back. ! Now, one cannot succeed at
my profession unless one has the
quick intuition of woman. And to
that intuition must be coupled the !
logic of 4 man-not of an ordinary
man, but the sort Of man that | am.
| remembered how insensitive the
cripple's hump had seemed to the
rough touch of the bully whom | had
knocked down. tried to visualize
the sleight of hand by which the box
had been extracted from Andersons |
safe even as the millionaire locked |
its door. Where had the box been |
remembered the aflait of the one
eyed man, and how a pearl had been |
secretcd in a glass eye. The jewel
box was too bulky to be placed in
the pocket of a dinner jacket, and
both of these men wore evening
clothes. And the cripple wore lex |
Of triumph. Also, his hump was not
sensitive.
Oh, Armand Cochet is the White
Eagle, but | am John Ainsley! Shall
| add more, or shall let the modest
narration Of my deeds speak for me ?
! bent over, tore the dinner jacket
from the body of Letter, exposed the
carefully contrived false hump, and
from that artificial deformity | took
the jewel-box.
waved them hooking goodby.
With the box under my arm beneath
my coat, sauntered out of the
house, over to Fifth Avenue, and tax
led, like any law-abiding citizen, to
my apartment overlooking the Park.
Five minutes later Twas examin-
ing the contents of the casket !
was rich. / could abandon forever,
the life to which necessity had driven
me. At least, on that April evening
] thought that ] could. l did not
know that sometimes there is truth
in old saws. l had forgotten one Of
"Once thief