Putting the scarabæus in his left
trousers pocket, Mr. Middleton departed,
and as he went about his
affairs during the next several days,
he ceased to think of the talisman, but on the
fourth day his attention was recalled to it in a
way that indeed seemed to prove that it was a
charm possessed of the powers the emir of the
tribe of Al-Yam had attributed to it. He was
faring northward in a street car at eleven of
the morning, diverting himself with the study
of the passengers sitting opposite, when he
became aware that the scarabæus in his left
trousers pocket was slowly traveling up his leg.
Had the talisman been other than the heavy
object it was, he would not have noticed it, but
it was of too considerable weight to travel over
his person without making its progress felt.
Deterred by none of the superstitious tremors
which the unaccountable peregrinations of the
gold beetle would have excited in one less
intrepid, he quickly thrust his hand into his
pocket to close it over another hand already
there, a hand which beyond a first little start
to escape, lay passive and unresisting, a hand
soft and delicate, yet well-muscled withal,
long-fingered and finely formed. At the same
time, a well-modulated voice at his side exclaimed:
“Why, I did not recognize you at first. I
was not looking when you came and you evidently
did not notice me.”
“No, I did not,” said Mr. Middleton, composedly,
still retaining his grasp upon the hand
in his pocket. “I cannot see that you have
changed any,” he continued, scrutinizing the
young woman at his side, for she was young
and, moreover, of a very pleasing presence,
and he did not altogether rebel against the
circumstances that allowed him to fondle the
hand of one so comely. The day, which had
begun with a slight chill, had turned off warm
and she had removed her cloak, which, lying
across her own lap and partially across Mr.
Middleton’s, had been the blind behind which
she had introduced her hand into the pocket
where reposed the fateful talisman.
The persons in the car seemed to take an
interest in this sudden recognition on the part
of a pair who had been riding side by side for
so long, oblivious of each other’s identity.
Moreover, the young woman was tastefully
gowned and of a very smart appearance, while
Mr. Middleton’s new suit became him and
fitted him nicely and altogether they were a
couple nearly any one would find pleasure in
looking upon. A slight movement to withdraw
the hand lying within his own, caused
Mr. Middleton’s grasp to tighten and almost
simultaneously, the young woman at his side
leaned forward and with a look in which sorrow
and pain were mingled, said in a lowered
voice:
“Oh, I have such a dreadful thing to tell
you about our friend Amy. I hate to tell you,
but as I wish to bespeak your kind offices, I
must do so. I am going to ask you to be the
agent of a restitution. She has, oh, she has
become a kleptomaniac. With every luxury,
with her fine home on the Lake Shore Drive,
with all her father’s wealth, with no want
money can gratify, she takes things. In her
circumstances it is out of the question to call it
stealing. It is a mania, a form of insanity.
When she is doing it, she seems to be in the
grasp of some other mind, to be another person,
and her actions are involuntary, unconscious.
Then she seems to come to herself,
when her agony is dreadful to behold.”
The young woman’s voice broke a little
here, she paused a moment to resume control
of herself, and perceiving her eyes swimming
with tears and her lips quivering with unhappiness,
Mr. Middleton was penetrated with pity
and pressed most tenderly and sympathetically
the delicate hand of which he was temporarily
custodian.
“She took things in stores, trumpery, cheap
things. She took magazines and penny papers
from news stands. But oh, she descended to
the dreadful depths of—oh, I can hardly tell
it—she was detected in trying to pick a man’s
pocket. It is here that I wish to employ you
as an agent of restitution, or rather retribution,
I should say. Will you please take this ring
off my left hand and take it to the man she
tried to rob? I cannot use the fingers of my
right hand owing to temporary incapacitation,”
and she held out to Mr. Middleton her left
hand, upon the third finger of which gleamed a
splendid ring of diamonds and emeralds. Mr.
Middleton possessed himself of this second
hand, but paused, and regarding the sweet face
turned up to his so beseechingly, so piteously,
said:
“But that would be compounding a felony.
And how do you know the man will not have
her arrested anyway?”
“The man is a gentleman and having heard
her story, will not think of such a thing. You
are to ask him to accept the ring not as a price
for immunity from arrest, but as a punishment,
a retribution to Amy. The loss of the ring,
which she has commissioned me to get to this
gentleman in some manner, will be a lesson she
is only too anxious to give herself, a forcible
reminder, as it were. Let me beg of you to
undertake this commission.”
All the while, Mr. Middleton was retaining
hold of both the hands of the sorrowful young
woman. Had they been other than the soft
and shapely hands they were, had they been
hard and gnarled and large, long before would
he, melted by compassion at the young woman’s
tale, have released her. But her very
charms had been her undoing and because of
her perfect hands, this tale has grown long.
That he might have excuse in the eyes of the
other passengers for holding the young woman’s
hand, Mr. Middleton removed the ring as he
had been bidden, planning to return it shortly.
As he removed the ring, he released the hand
in his pocket and his plan was frustrated by
the young woman starting up with the exclamation
that she had passed her corner, and
springing from the car. She was so far in
advance of him, when he succeeded in getting
off the car and was walking so rapidly, that he
could not overtake her except by running, and
he was averse to attracting the attention that
this would occasion. So he determined to
shadow her and ascertaining her residence, find
some means of restoring the ring without the
knowledge of her friends, as he had no desire
to do anything which might cause them to
learn of her unfortunate infirmity, especially,
as this last experience might have worked a
cure. She did indeed enter a stately mansion
of the Lake Shore Drive—but by the back
door.
Pondering upon this episode, Mr. Middleton
went to an acquaintance who kept a large loan
bank on Madison Street, who, after discovering
that he had no desire to pawn the ring,
appraised it at seven hundred dollars.
On the following evening, Mr. Middleton
was replacing his new suit by his old, as was
his custom when he intended to remain in his
room of an evening. This example cannot be
too highly commended to all young men. The
amount which would be saved in this nation
were all to economize in this way, would be
sufficient to buy beer for all the Teutonic citizens
of the large state of Illinois. As Mr.
Middleton was changing his clothes, the scarabæus
dropped from his pocket and as he
picked it up, a collar button fell from his neckband,
and scrambling for it as it rolled toward
the unexplored regions under his bed, he
tripped and sprawled at full length, his nose
coming in sharp contact with an evening paper
lying on the floor. He was about to rise from
his recumbent position, when his eyes, glancing
along his nose to discover if it had sustained
any injury, observed that said member
rested upon a notice which read:
“Lost, a diamond and emerald ring. $800
will be paid for its return and no questions
asked. David O. Crecelius.”
The address was that of the house on the
Lake Shore Drive which the kleptomaniac
had entered! Once more did the scarabæus
seem to be exerting its influence. But for the
talisman, he would never have seen the notice,
and a little shiver ran through him as he
thought of this. Immediately he reclothed
himself in his new suit.
“There is time for me to think out a course
of action between here and my destination,”
said he. “The walking so conducive to reflection
can be much better employed in taking
me toward the Lake Shore Drive, than in uselessly
pacing my room, and I’ll be there when
I get through.”
As he traveled eastward, he engaged in a
series of ratiocinative processes and the result
of the deductive and inductive reasoning which
he applied to the case in hand, was as follows:
The kleptomaniac could hardly be a daughter
of the house. She would have entered by the
front door. If she were the daughter of the
house, she would not have had the ring advertised
for, counting herself fortunate to get out
of the difficulty so cheaply. However, if her
parents had noted the absence of the ring, she
might have said it was lost and so they advertised,
but nothing could have been further
from her wishes, for there would be the great
danger that the outcome of the advertisement
would be a complete exposure. She could
easily prevent her parents noticing the ring was
gone, at least making satisfactory explanations
for not wearing it. With her wealth, she
could have it duplicated inside of a few days
and her friends never know the original was
lost. As this is what the daughter of the house
in all probability would have done, the kleptomaniac
could hardly have been the daughter of
the house. He suspected that she was a lady’s
maid, who, wearing her mistress’s jewelry, had
purchased her way out of one difficulty at the
risk of getting into another. The advertisement
would seem to indicate that she was
trusted. The disappearance of the ring was
apparently not connected with her. The matter
was very simple. He would hand over the
ring and take the eight hundred dollars and
need say nothing that would implicate the
young woman, be she daughter of the house
and kleptomaniac, or serving-maid and common
thief. But one thing puzzled him. Why
was the reward greater than the value of the
ring?
Eight hundred dollars. The young lady in
Englewood was getting nearer.
A bitter east wind was blowing as he walked
up to the entrance of the mansion of Mr. David
Crecelius. Behind him the street lay all deserted
and the melancholy voice of the waves
filled the air. Nowhere could he see a light
about the house and he was oppressed by a feeling
of undefinable apprehension as he pressed
the bell. A considerable interval elapsing without
any one appearing and a second and a
third ringing failing to elicit any response
from within the silent pile, he was about to
depart, feeling greatly relieved that it was not
necessary to hold parley with any one within
the gloomy and forbidding edifice, when he
heard a sudden light thud at his feet and discovered
that the scarabæus had dropped
through a hole in his trousers’ pocket which
had at that moment reached a size large enough
to allow it to escape. After a hurried search,
he had possessed himself of the talisman and
was about to depart, when the door swung
open before him and a venerable white-haired
man stood in a dim green glow. Boldly did
Mr. Middleton enter, for had not the talisman
delayed him until the venerable man
opened the door?
“Come in, sir, come in,” said the venerable
man, whom Mr. Middleton saw was none other
than David O. Crecelius, the capitalist, whose
portraits he had seen again and again in the
Sunday papers and the weekly papers of a
moral and entertaining nature, accompanying
accounts of his life and achievements, with
exhortations to the youth of the land to imitate
them, advice which Mr. Middleton then
and there resolved to follow, reflecting upon
the impeccable sources from which it emanated.
“All the servants seem to be gone. My
family is abroad and the household force has
been cut down, and I have given everybody
leave to go out to-night, all but one maid, and
she seems to have gone, too,” said Mr. Crecelius,
leading Mr. Middleton into a spacious
salon and seating him near where great portières
of a funereal purple moved uneasily in
the superheated atmosphere of the house. At
that moment, a voice from the hallway, a voice
he had surely heard before, said:
“Did some one ring? I am very sorry, but
it was impossible for me to come,” and Mr.
Middleton was aware that some one was looking
hard at the back of his head.
“Yes. I let them in. It’s no matter. Run
away now.”
When Mr. Middleton had finished explaining
the reason for his call and had fished up
the ring, Mr. Crecelius did not, as he had
expected he would, arise and make out a check
for $800.
“This ring,” said that gentleman after a
little pause, “have you it with you?”
Mr. Middleton glanced at the hollow of his
left hand. He had fished up the scarabæus
instead of the ring. But his left thumb soon
showed him the ring was safe in his vest
pocket. The delay and caution of Mr. Crecelius,
and above all, the prevention of the
immediate delivery of the ring caused by the
scarabæus coming up in its stead caused Mr.
Middleton to delay.
“It can be produced,” said he.
“How did you get it?”
“It came into my possession innocently
enough so far as I was concerned. As to the
person from whom I received it, that is a
different matter, but though I made no promises,
I feel I am in honor bound not to disclose
that person’s identity.”
As he uttered these words, Mr. Middleton
saw the portière at his side rustle slightly. It
was not the swaying caused by the currents of
overheated air.
“I will give you two hundred dollars more
to tell me who gave you or sold you the
ring.”
“I cannot do that.”
“Very well. I’ll only give you four hundred
dollars reward.”
“The ring is worth more than that.”
“If you retain it, or sell it, you become a
thief.”
“You have advertised eight hundred dollars
reward and no questions asked. I may have
found it. Knowing of your loss through reading
your advertisement, I may have gone to
great trouble to recover it. At any rate, I
have it. I deliver it. Your advertisement is
in effect a contract which I can call upon you
to carry out. The ring is not mine, but for my
services in getting it, I am entitled to the eight
hundred dollars you agree to give. You cannot
give less.”
“Do you think it right to take advantage of
my necessity in this way? You ought to
accept less. The ring is not worth over seven
hundred dollars. For returning it, three hundred
dollars ought to be enough. It is wrong
to drive a hard bargain by taking advantage of
my necessity.”
“You have built your fortune on such principles.
You have engineered countless schemes
and your dollars came from the straits you
reduced others to.”
“But do you think it right? What I may
have done, does not justify you. I venture to
say you and other young chaps have sat with
heels cocked up and pipes in mouth and discussed
me and called me a villain for doing
what you are trying to do with me.”
“I have indeed. But that was in the past
and I have changed my views materially. At
present, I have the exclusive possession of the
ability to secure something you very much
want. You offered eight hundred dollars.
Intrinsically, the ring is not worth it, but for
certain reasons, possession of the ring is worth
eight hundred dollars.”
“Possession of the ring! Certain reasons!”
said Mr. Crecelius, springing to his feet and
pacing up and down the room angrily. As
Mr. Middleton was cudgelling his brains to find
some reason for this outburst of anger, he
became cognizant of a small piece of folded
paper lying near his feet. He was about to
pick it up and hand it to the financier, when he
was stayed by the reflection that it might have
dropped from his own pocket and examining
it, read:
“It’s his wife’s ring. I wore it along with
some of her other things. Ten years ago, he
gave it to another woman, and his wife found
it out and he had to buy it back. He is afraid
his wife will think he gave the ring away a
second time. That is why I dared give it to
you. Make him give you a thousand.
“The One You Didn’t Give Away.”
Mr. Middleton put the note in his pocket,
and the eminent capitalist having ceased pacing
and standing gazing at him, he remarked:
“Certain reasons, such as preventing an
altercation with your wife over her suspicions
that you had not lost the ring, but had disposed
of it as on a former occasion ten years
since.”
“Young man, you cannot blackmail me.
My wife knows all about that. The knowledge
of that occurrence is worthless as a piece
of blackmail.”
“As blackmail, yes; but not worthless as an
indication of the extent you desire to regain
possession of the ring. Your wife knows of
your former escapade and that is gone and
past. But the present disappearance of the
ring will cause her to think you have repeated
the escapade. This knowledge of certain conditions
causes me to see that my services in
securing and delivering the ring are worth one
thousand dollars. Upon the payment of that
sum, cash, I hand you the ring.”
The distinguished money-king gave Mr.
Middleton a very black look and then left the
room to return almost immediately with a
thousand dollars in bills, which Mr. Middleton
counted, placed in his vest pocket, and forthwith
delivered the ring. As he did so, yielding
to the pride with which the successful outcome
of his tilt with the great capitalist inflamed
him, he remarked with a condescension
which the suavity of his tones could not conceal:
“Had you, sir, employed in this affair the
perspicacity you have displayed on so many
notable occasions, it would have occurred to
you that this ring, being of a common pattern,
could be duplicated for seven hundred dollars
and so you be saved both money and
worry.”
A look of admiration overspread the face of
the eminent manipulator, and grasping Mr.
Middleton’s hand with great fervor, he exclaimed:
“A man after my own heart. I am always
ready to acknowledge a defeat. You have
good stuff in you. I must know you better.
You must stay and have a glass of champagne
with me. I will get it myself,” and he hurried
out of the room.
In the state of Wisconsin, from which Mr.
Middleton hailed, there is a great deal of the
alcoholic beverage, beer, but such champagne
as is to be found there is all due to importation,
since it is not native to the soil, but is
brought in at great expense from France, La
Belle France, and New Jersey, La Belle New
Jersey. Mr. Middleton had seen, smelled, and
tasted beer, but champagne was unknown to
him save by hearsay, and his improper curiosity
and his readiness to succumb to temptation
caused him to linger in the salon of
Mr. Crecelius, thereby nearly accomplishing
his ruin. Suddenly there was a patter of
light steps across the floor, a hand fell lightly
on his shoulder and a voice lightly on his
ear.
“You made him raving mad when you said
what you did. He telephoned the police.
Now he has gone for the wine and will try to
hold you until they come.”
“But he cannot arrest me. I have done
nothing,” said Mr. Middleton, his heart going
pit-a-pat, in spite of the boldness of his words.
“He can make all sorts of trouble for you.
Even if you did come out all right in the end,
think of the trouble. Come, come quick!”
A soft hand had grasped one of his and he
was up and away, following his fair guide up
stairs, through the house, and down into the
kitchen.
“I have recovered my wits a bit,” said Mr.
Middleton. “He is so angry that he has no
thought but immediate vengeance, and so
accordingly telephones the police, and if they
were to catch me here, it certainly would be
bad. But to-morrow he will be in a mood to
appreciate the good sense of the letter I shall
send him, calling his attention to the fact that
if he arrests me, in the trial there must come
out the reason why I demanded one thousand
dollars, the story of his domestic indiscretion,
and so he will not think of pursuing the matter
further.”
“It was very kind and very noble of you not
to expose me,” said the young woman in a
voice in which gratitude and sadness were
mingled; “and all the admiration and gratitude
a woman can feel under such circumstances, I
feel toward you. To you I owe my continued
good name and even my very freedom. I
know that marriage with such as you, is not
for such as me. I am going to ask you to give
to her who would have all, but expects and
deserves nothing, the consolation of a kiss.
Whatever happy maiden may be so fortunate
as to receive your love, I shall have treasured
in memory the golden remembrance that once
my preserver bestowed on me the symbol of
love.”
Mr. Middleton looked down at the girl, supplicating
for the favor her sex is wont to deny,
and he said to himself that seldom had he seen
a more flower-like face. Her lovely lips were
already puckered in a rosy pout, her hands
raised ready to rest on his shoulders as he
should encircle her with his arms, when he
noted with a start that her eyes, snapping,
alert, and eager, were bent not upon his face,
but upon his upper left hand vest pocket,
where bulged the one thousand dollars in bills.
“I am more than honored and I shall be
ravished with delight to comply. But here,
where we stand, we are exposed to view from
three sides. If Mr. Crecelius were to look in
and see you being kissed by me, whom he so
dislikes, in what a bad plight you would be.
Not even for the exquisite pleasure of kissing
you would I subject you to such a danger. But
in the shadow by the outer door, we would not
be seen.”
As he said these words, Mr. Middleton
placed the money in his inside vest pocket,
buttoned his vest, buttoned his inner coat, and
buttoned his overcoat, moving toward the outer
door as he did so, the young woman following
him more and more slowly, the light in her
eyes dying with each successive buttoning. In
fact, she did not enter into the shadow at all,
and Mr. Middleton stepped back a bit when he
threw his arms about her and pressed her to his
bosom. Perfunctorily and coldly did she yield
to his embrace, but whatever ardor was lacking
on her part, was compensated for by Mr. Middleton,
who clasped her with exceeding tightness
and showered kisses upon her pouting lips
until she pushed him from her, exclaiming with
annoyance:
“You’ve kissed me quite enough, you great
big softy.”
Mr. Middleton said nothing of these transactions
when on the ensuing evening he sat in the
presence of the young lady of Englewood, nor
did he, when on the evening thereafter he once
more sat in the presence of the urbane prince
of the tribe of Al-Yam. Having handed him a
bowl of delicately flavored sherbet, Achmed
began to narrate The Adventure of Nora Sullivan
and the Student of Heredity.
