Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1926-10-31

~ remarked as ne eStaO-
hshed his two guests-Flip the white
dog. was of the party-at a comfort
able tatse an the coffee room of the
Cathedral III. "Only last night I
was thinking about you"
I'VE really wandered down this way
quite by chance" Goade observed. II
hadn't meant to come so far SOUTH"
Faulkener ordered his luncheon.
Jolly idea of yours" he remarked,
ito spend this six months leave wan
dering about quietly. The most tran
gull country I know, Devonshire.'
'Is IT," Goade murmured. II was
thinking of trying Mexico"
'Eh?"
IL mean to say that somehow Or
other Flip and l always seem to be
nosing our way into other peoples
business. We've had one or two quite
strenuous weeks in the most unlikely
places
You certainly did see through that
Unwtn affair."" Faulkener admitted.
Shocking thing. too. Where are you
going from here?"
1--WE haven't any plans" Goade ad-
mttted. Now I'm so far south,
shall make for the coast"
man, passing down the room,
paused to exchange a word with
Faulkener, who introduced him pres
emily to Goade.
This is Mr.. Goade from Scotland
Yard, Manton-N1aj. Manton, the gov
ernor Of our prison here"
II know Mr.. Goade quite we'll by
name and reputation" Maj. Manton
declared.
They talked for a moment. Then
the latter passed on and Capt. Faux
ener leaned toward his companion
confidentially.
Il didn't ask him to lunch. Goade,"
he said. because I wanted just a
word with you privately"
Not another case, / hope?"
NO. not exactly that" Faulkener
replied. after a moments hesitation.
There's a little matter here that's
bothering me. The person chiefly con-
serned doesn't want me to appeal to
Scotland Yard. l thought If I could
interest you you might see II you
could straighten 1t out for U.S."
Tell me about It," Goade invited
resignedly.
That's Just what I'd rather not do
I'd rather you heard the story from
the person chiefly concerned. You
can spare half an hour this after
noon?"
II suppose So" Goade assented, with
out enthusiasm. II meant to spend
''I'll put your name down at the
club" Faulkener suggested. There's
a decent rubber Of bridge there in
the afternoon. Can you be ready for
me at 4 o'clock?"
Certainly"
A T O'Clock Faulkener led the way
\ to the close and rang the bell Of
a very picturesque, red brick resi-
dence, UNCOVERED and with a strong
ecclesiastical flavor. A dignified but
Ter answered the summons and usher
ed them into a spacious library where
a tall and rather pompous-looking
man, with the neither garments of
dignitary of the church, was seated
at a writing table, debating letters
to a secretary. He waved her away
and rose to welcome his visitors.
Dean" Capt. Faulkener said. this
is Mr. Goade. of whom l have spoken.
Mr.. Goade, Dean Holloway"
The dean shook hands and indicat-
cd two easy chairs.
"I haven't said a word to Goade
about this little trouble" Faulkener
went on. II thought I'd like him to
have the details from you in your own
words. If l might venture upon a
word of advice, dean, I'd keep moth
ing from Mr.. Goade. You'll find he
continued. turning to his companion,
that the case Is just as simple as II
Is embarrassing"
The dean inclined his head. He
had a long, rugged face with an un-
usually large mouth, shaggy eyebrows
and iron-gray hair. Without being
exactly of ascetic appearance, he gave
one the impression of a man whose
lines had not always been cast in
the easy places.
II think" he began, his finger tips
pressed together, his eyes fixed upon
Goade, that my friend Faulkener
has used the right term to describe
our position. 1t Is embarrassing. /
shall tell you the story in as few
words as possible, but 1t is necessary
to enlarge for a moment on matters
of my personal history"
II should like you to tell it to me
in your own way" GOade said.
II started life as a curate with no
private means" the dean continued;
Il have never been possessed Of pri-
vate means. 1 have a large family
and my stipend left no room for lux
uries. The care of my children, there
fore, becomes an important matter
TO me. | have four daughters. the
eldest Of whom is 20 years old. will
be quite frank with you, Mr.. Goade.
1t Is our ambition-the ambition of
their mother and myself-to have
them comfortably settled in life.
There is not a great deal of young
society In this neighborhood. For
this reason my wife and I We're eX-
ceedingly gratified when a fortnight
ago we received an invitation from
the Duchess of Exeter for our daugh-
ter to join her house party at Exeter
Park. Our daughter made her prepa-
rations and departed. She received
the most delightful hospitality, but
she returned here in a state of great
distress"
The dean paused for a moment and
played with his watch chain.
II should explain" he went on,
that my daughter. Florence, had a
godmother. a great friend of my
wife's-the Princess Shibolzky-an
English lady. married to a Russian.
We always hoped, as the Shibolzkys
were very wealthy and had no chill
dren, that my daughter might bene-
tit by the association. The revolution,
however. changed all that. The prin-
cess died in something approaching
poverty. She, however, left to Flor.
ence the one remaining piece Of her
famous collection Of 1ewels-an emer.
aid pendant Of great beauty and,
believe, great value. We received the
jewel only month ago. A local jew
eler valued 1t at some $4,000, and
when the invitations from Exeter Park
arrived / was making inquiries with
a view to having IT insured.
Against my wishes my daughter
decided to take the jewel with her.
She had. 1t appears. a green evening
dress, and the effect Of the jewel, I
must admit, was exceedingly pleasing
I confess that should have had 1t in.
sured before allowing her to depart
with It. but I did not. She came back
without the jewel and with a very dis
tressing story. 1t Is a story Of few
words only, and II is one which she
shall tell you herself"