Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1931-10-11

Peter Hames had not CHANGED to remove
his hat and deposit upon the table devoted
to the use of clients and callers in Mar
tins Bank it is probable that the mystery
of the great robbery, which of
the most dramatic shocks to the Princi-
pality of Monaco had experienced for many
years would have gone unSolved. AS 1t was,
Hames, standing bare-headed before one of
the blackboards upon which were chalked quo
tations from the money market of the previous
day, had somewhat the air of an official He
found himself courteously accosted by a young
man who was complete stranger to him.
Can you tell me where 1 should be likely
to find Mr.. Pontifex the manager?" the latter
inquired. Il should be glad to see him for a
few minutes if possible
Peter HameS turned to inspect his queStioner
"a fair, thin young man, with f1axen hair,
curiously sandy complexion and wearing a rim
less monocle He was correctly dressed in
Riviera f1annels. His tone was pleasantly mod
ulated and his speech itself rendered almost
intriguing by slight stutter.
II haven't seen Pontifex for the last quarter
of an hour" Peter Hames replied, but fancy
he is in his room there. am not an official
of the bank" he explained as he noticed the
young mans hesitation, but they don't stand
ceremony here
Thanks very much" the amiable re-
joinder. Sorry 1 made a mistake. Do they
close here punctually, do you know"
ION the stroke. But if you're here they don't
throw you out into the street. All the same"
Peter Hames added. glancing at the clock, IF
you want to see Pontfex you had better look
him up now. It's five minutes to twelve"
HE young man nodded. He turned away,
] knocked at the door of the private office
and evidently hidden to enter, for he
opened it and disappeared, closing it behind
him. Peter Hames remained staring after him,
a slight frown upon his face. The stranger
had somehow or other created very curious
impression. Hames had the feeling that he
had been talking to a dummy. He had an
idea that the faXen hair was false, that the
eyeglass and the stutter were the eccentricities
of an amateur actor, the complexion unnatural,
the easy manners pose.
1t was idea at which he found himself
laughing a moment later. There was nothing
definite to justify this queer fancy. The young
man, except for his wildly faxen hair, was,
in fact, almost a type-as much of a type in
his way as the red-cheeked, busting Million
aire yacht owner, Sir Richard Branksome, who
had just come hurrying in.
"BleSs my soul, Peter I've run It fine, haven't
~" the latter exclaimed as he drew out :. ca
pacious pocketbook and laid satchel upon the
table. I'm going to touch EN- for a bit this
morning, too"
II hear you're off on Saturday" Peter Hames
observed
"Of to Athens and Constantinople," Sir
Richard aSsented. "Afterward to Port Sudan
and overland to Khartoum. If you want any
money out of this old bank, you'd better get it
quick. I'm going to suck 'en dry. don't trust
these eastern banks. I like full money chest
What do you think of that, eh?"
He held out two checks. Peter Hames wills
tied. One was for a million francs, the other
for 10000 pounds.
You don't suppose they'll have that ready
for you?" he demanded.
Sir Richard smiled II gave them a weeks
notice." he conf1ded. I'll go and collect. Wait
for m4 and we'll go and have cocktail"
Sir ERichard turned toward one of the paying
grilles. Peter Hames lit cigarette, and, seated
on the edge of one of the writing tables await
ed his friends return. He glanced with indif-
ferent curiosity around the place from which
very nearly all the clients had now departed,
ex&ept for man at the next table supporting
his head in his hands and apparently worrying
over a letter.
"A fussy old lady hurried toward the exit,
which she barely reached before the clock
struck II. Almost at the first chime Mr.. Ur-
quart, the genial submanager of the bank,
came hurrying forward to ~meet his distin-
guished client, Sir Richard. with a great pile
of notes in his hand He changed them from
his right to his left to offer the customary
greeting to his client.
Precisely at that moment several things
The man who had been seated at
the writing table, with his head bent forward
suddenly sprang to his feet, disclosing the
fact that he was wearing a small black silk
mask. swing of his right arm and dig
In the back, which Urquart, who was an old
foot ball player, recognized, and the latter lay
yazing at the ceiling with both hands empty.
The stranger, who appeared to be a man OF
average build, but light-footed, and wearing