Chapter X: Part 10

Widows, with large families, and who wrote most mournful stories, sending on every cent they could save (while half-starving their families in order to do so, probably), were among the number of correspondents. Clergymen of poor parishes sent for tickets, with long letters, in which they commented piously upon the matter of hazard and lotteries, in a manner to excuse themselves for sending, and hoping that they should draw something to help them out of their poverty and misery, and expressing their belief that "God would pardon them if they were doing wrong," were also of the number. Many letters were of a comical nature, the writers half-laughing at themselves for doing so foolish a thing as buying tickets in a lottery; but yet unable to resist the temptation. By some of the letters it was evident to me that the writers told abominable lies about their sufferings and trials, in order to excite the sympathy of the "agents," and induce them to use their best efforts to secure for them winning tickets. Some of the correspondents offered to give the "agents" half their prize money, in order to bribe them to select a successful ticket. Some of them sent counterfeit money. I found such notes as this at bottom of several letters, "One dollar counterfeit, two dollars good. Send tickets in Scheme No. 8." "Counterfeit; send back." These were evidently directions to clerks. If the writing in these letters which contained only counterfeit money had been good, I might have suspected the writers of perpetrating an appropriate joke; but the letters were evidently from ignorant people, some of whom, perhaps, knew that the bills they sent were counterfeit, and hoped that the great banking company, in their vast press of business, would fail to detect the bills. Many of the letters were written in excellent mercantile hand; but I noticed some badge of ignorance about all these, as well as about the poorly-written and misspelled ones. Probably ninety-nine in a hundred of the victims were made such through their ignorance of the world and the wicked men in it.

"Knowledge is power;" not only a power to execute, but a power for salvation; and when her light shall be sufficiently diffused, all such crafts _as these bogus lottery swindlers_ will "have had their day," and not before. I doubt somewhat that if all the newspapers of the land should, on some given week, publish each a full _exposé_ of these swindles, and repeat the same every week, for a month, the majority of the victims would be saved. Many would; but some with their eyes opened, as far as facts could open them, would still be duped. The investigation of this bogus lottery business did more to weaken my respect for the good sense of my fellow-men in general, than had all the experiences of my life theretofore. But I find I am tempted on beyond the limits I had set for myself in this article. The subject is an interesting one to me, and I may return to it at another time, and to some of its phases not here commented upon.

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THE BORROWED DIAMOND RING.

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THE DETECTIVE OFFICER'S CHIEF "INCUBUS"--AT WINTER GARDEN
THEATRE--"HARRY DUBOIS"--AN EXPERT ROGUE EXAMINES HIS
PROSPECTIVE VICTIMS--SOME SOUTHERNERS--HARRY "INTRODUCES"
HIMSELF IN HIS OWN PECULIAR AND ADROIT WAY--HARRY AND HIS
FRIEND ARE INVITED TO THE SOUTHERNERS' PRIVATE BOX--HARRY
"BORROWS" MR. CLEMENS' DIAMOND RING, AND ADROITLY ESCAPES--MY
DILEMMA--VISIT TO HARRY'S OLD BOARDING MISTRESS--HIS
WHEREABOUTS DISCOVERED--ACTIVE WORK--A RAPID DRIVE TO PINE
STREET--A FORTUNATE LIGHT IN THE OFFICE OF THE LATE HON. SIMEON
DRAPER--A SUDDEN VISIT FOR A "SICK MAN" TO HARRY'S ROOM--HOW
ENTRANCE WAS EFFECTED--THE RING SECURED--HUNT FOR MR.
CLEMENS--A SLIGHTLY MYSTERIOUS LETTER--A HAPPY INTERVIEW.

Just before the late war broke out, and the Winter Garden Theatre being in its prime, my friend, Henry C. P., of New Haven, Conn., being in town, urged me to accompany him there one night to see the play. The house was quite crowded with a more than usually fashionable set of play-goers, many being from different parts of the land, visitors for a time in New York. No matter where I go, to theatre, court, or church, along Broadway crowded with its vast moving tides of humanity, or through the streets of some half-deserted hamlet, my mind is ever on my business; rather, ever pondering on the craft and crime of society, symbols of which, in more or less emphatic shape, I am ever liable to see. It is one of the greatest vexations which the detective suffers, that the nature of his business is such that he can never fully liberate his thoughts from dwelling upon the frailties, the follies, and particularly the crimes, petty and felonious, of which so many of his fellow-men are constantly being guilty. Like an incubus of dread and darkness, these thoughts are ever weighing on his mind. He has no peace; and the only approximate peace he can win, is to let his thoughts drift on in the usual current, without attempting to direct them by his will. Consequently, that night, though for a while I enjoyed the play, studying its representations of human nature with some delight, and being not a little pleased with the beauty of sundry of the female _dramatis personæ_, who were rather above the average in personal graces, my eye was wandering over the parquet, family circle, etc., considerably. Hearing a slight noise in a part of the gallery, I observed that three young men, probably having a "prior engagement" to fill somewhere, were leaving the theatre,--a thing of no moment in itself, and which I should have forgotten on the instant, only that the vacancy they left enabled me to cast my eye a little farther on, when I discovered a character of much interest to me--a man elegantly apparelled, and having every outward semblance of a gentleman. At the moment my eye first rested on him there, he was peering into one of the boxes, and I saw him soon in the act of whispering some mystery, apparently, into the ear of the comrade who sat by his side. The latter person I did not know; but knowing the company he was in, I divined that some mischief was up, for the former person was no other than a man whom, in my detective career, I had several times encountered--an elegant, scheming fellow, who sometimes operated on Wall Street, kept an office at 34 Pine Street, as a real estate broker and money lender, etc., though he was seldom there, and was as skilful a juggler and pickpocket as any of whom New York could at that time boast. I could not, from my then position, well see into the boxes, so I changed my seat--through the courtesy of an old friend, who gave me his in exchange for mine--to a point where I could watch the boxes and the two elegant gentlemen, of whom I have spoken, without the latter's knowing the fact. As I have intimated, the season was gay. In one of the boxes sat two gentlemen and two ladies, the former evidently Southerners I judged, and so I thought the ladies to be also. They were quite richly dressed, and "sported" a large amount of richest jewelry. I was not at a loss, as soon as I had enjoyed a good view of them, as to the nature of the special concern which they had evidently awakened in the minds of the two worthies whom I was watching. I felt very sure that some plan was being devised by the latter two to make the acquaintance of the gentlemen, and, perhaps, the ladies in the box, with an eye to relieving them of some of their jewelry or money.

"Harry Dubois" was one of the aliases of the elegant rogue; his friend's name I knew not, and have never learned it. I was not surprised then, when, after a little polite leave-taking at the end of an act, and the gentlemen left their ladies in the box, to see Harry and friend leave their seats, and saunter out. Divining that the gentlemen had gone into the refreshment-room, I followed, disguising myself as I went out, by the assumption of a pair of spectacle bows, to which was attached a false nose quite unlike my own, in order that Harry might by no means discover me. I arrived in the refreshment-room, and had selected out my friends of the box before Harry and his friend, or "pal," came in. I had prepared my mind to expect some peculiarly stealthy, circumlocutory proceeding upon the part of Harry. Perhaps he would come only to "watch and wait" still longer; perhaps he would find there somebody, also, who knew the gentlemen of the box, and get a formal introduction. Indeed, I had conceived a half dozen modes of operation on his part, when, to my astonishment, Harry, having first cast a searching glance over the room, and giving his "pal" a knowing touch on the elbow, rushed, with all smiles upon his face, up to the apparently elder of the gentlemen of the box, who were at this moment lifting glasses of wine to their lips, and exclaimed, "Pardon me, Mr. Le Franc; but how _do_ you do? I am exceedingly glad to see you! How long have you been on from New Orleans, my dear sir?"

The gentleman addressed looked with astonishment upon the elegantly attired Harry, whose face was the symbol of the frankest honesty and most certain refinement, and evidently "taken" by Harry's manner, replied, "My dear sir, there's a mistake here, for my name is not Le Franc; and truly, sir, I can never have known you, for I surely do not now, and if I had I should never have forgotten you."

"Upon my honor," said Harry, "I thought you were a Mr. Le Franc, of New Orleans. You look just like him, with whom, and others, I went on an excursion up to Donaldsonville, three years ago, at the invitation and expense of Bob McDonald."

"Bob McDonald? Why, he's my cousin, sir. If you know him, give me your hand. My name, sir, is William Hale, of Savannah, and this is my cousin, Mr. Clemens, of Mobile" (turning to his friend), "Mr. ---- Ah! excuse me, but you have not given me your name, sir, I forgot."

Fully pleased, Harry pulled out a card case from his vest pocket, and presented to Mr. Hale a neat card, inscribed:--

=HENRY CLARKSON DUBOIS=

ATTORNEY AT LAW.

_Specialty--Dealing in Real Estate, Effecting Loans, and
Securing Advances on Cotton._

Office, 34 Pine Street, N. Y. City.

"Pardon me that I give you my business card; I find I have no other about me."

"Ah, Mr. Dubois! I am sure I am very glad to know you as Bob McDonald's friend. Tell me when you last saw him. How was he? Jolly fellow--isn't he? Take some wine with us? and your friend, too; he'll join us?"

Harry was nothing loth to accept the wine. He was making splendid progress, he doubtless thought; and joining in the wine, he said, "You asked when I last saw Bob. Well, when he was here in New York, three months ago, on his way to Hamilton, Canada, he was my guest for a week, at the Metropolitan, where I board."

"Just so," said Mr. Hale. "Bob wrote us at that time from Canada. I am sorry I did not go on there when he was there. He was well as usual then, I suppose, and just as full of the 'Old McDonald'" (for his father was a great old sport) "as ever, eh?"

I saw that Harry was making smooth inroad into the affections of these gentlemen, and wondered what would be the result. Mr. Hale treated to cigars. Harry refused, saying, that with permission he would smoke a cigarette,--pulling a box from his pocket,--commented on the habit which he had learned in Cuba, when he was attached, as he said, to the United States legation there, and quite took the Savannah gentleman aback with his delicate manipulation of the dainty cigarette. Harry's mastery of good manners seemed to completely win the Southern gentlemen, and Harry's friend too, though less elegant than he, was no "slouch" of a fellow in appearance.

The next act of the play had begun before the gentlemen had finished their cigars and chat, and Mr. Hale said to his friend Clemens, "Wouldn't Mary be delighted to meet so intimate a friend of her cousin Bob? Mr. Dubois, I spoke of McDonald as my cousin; so he is by marriage; but he is cousin by blood to my wife, and she likes him above all her kin. Wouldn't you and your friend do us the honor to accompany us to our box, where our wives now are?"

"With the greatest pleasure," said Harry, suiting the action to the word, and away they started for the box. I lost no time in getting back to my seat, on the way depositing my spectacles and false nose in a side pocket.

From what I afterwards learned from Mr. Hale, he delightedly presented Harry to his wife, as an intimate friend of her cousin Bob; and it was evident to me that Harry was making as sure victory of the esteem of Mrs. Hale, and the other lady, Mrs. Clemens, as he had of their husbands. He laughed and chatted with the ladies to their evident delight. They could not have heard much of the second act, so busily were they engaged with him--gentlemen and ladies both. I noticed that Harry was not lacking, on that occasion, in a good degree of effrontery, mingled with his polite manners, which fact was assurance to me that he had formed some plan of operations already, but what it would be I could not conjecture. I saw more or less display of jewelry, Harry taking a splendid solitaire diamond from his finger, and evidently telling some story about it. But eventually, as the act was drawing to a close, I discovered that Mr. Clemens had taken from his finger a very costly ring, which, as the sequel proved, he had bought at Anthony's the day before, for fifteen hundred dollars, to take as a present to his brother, then studying medicine in Harvard College, whither Mr. Clemens and his lady were about going. All was very jubilant in the box as the act drew to a close, and there was a clatter in the box--the gentlemen laughing, and the ladies shaking their fans at them, as if half menacingly forbidding them to go out, evidently begging them to stay, and so forth. But Harry, according to the story I learned afterwards, kindly assured the ladies that he would return with his new "charge" all duly and "soundly," which the ladies interpreted to mean soberly, and they let them go.

Harry left the box, the last of the gentlemen, and as he did so, foolishly waved his hand in parting, at the ladies; and the mystery was at once unravelled to me, for on his finger was what I took to be, knew to be, that new, flashing ring of Mr. Clemens.

I hastened to the refreshment-room. I saw at once the flush of victory on Harry's face, and watched him intently.

He was very brilliant in conversation, and very generous; insisted on "treating" all the while himself. Wouldn't allow Mr. Hale or his friend to call for anything, etc.

The time for the next act coming on, the gentlemen, not a little "warmed up" with the numerous glasses of wine they had taken, returned to their box, and I to my place, replacing my spectacles in my side pocket.

I had been a little delayed in getting back to my place by a crowd gathered around a lady who had fainted, and when I resumed my seat, and looked into the box, what was my astonishment at not finding Harry there. I saw that Mrs. Clemens was very serious about something, while the rest seemed very much excited; meanwhile, Harry's friend seemed engaged in some sort of wonder-looking protestations, for he _looked_ astonished, and was putting one hand very emphatically upon the palm of the other. The whole thing flashed upon me. I saw that there was no time to lose; and I left my seat, and proceeded directly to the refreshment-room, in time to find Mr. Hale and his friend there, eagerly inquiring of the bar-keeper if "Mr. Dubois" had returned there; if he had seen him since they went up last time to the box, and sundry other hurried queries. The bar-keeper had not seen him; no clew could they get to him; and Mr. Hale said, "Clemens, you are 'done for,' sure. That's one of those arch scamps we read of. He's borrowed that ring, and we'll never see it again."

"Let's find a policeman, and put him on the track," said Clemens.

"Foolishness," said Mr. Hale; "no policeman can track that fellow. He's too keen; besides, who knows but he'll take the train for Philadelphia or somewhere. I don't believe he lives here. Here's his card, to be sure, but who knows that it's not a fraud? Let's hunt the directory," and the bar-keeper brought forward the desired directory. No "Harry Clarkson Dubois" was to be found in it. The gentlemen looked confounded and dejected, and Hale said, "Well, Clemens, let's go back to the ladies. They've more wit than we. You know what your wife said. If we'd taken her advice perhaps we should have got out from here in time to catch the villain," and so they sauntered back.

I did not feel like making myself known to them. They might take me, perhaps, as Harry's coöperator, and so I silently watched them leave. Turning the matter over in my mind a moment, I resolved upon the best course to pursue. Harry must be come upon that night if I were to succeed with him, I saw. I had known his lodging-room three months before, but had heard he had changed quarters; where to hunt him was the point. I bethought me of a boarding-house keeper in West 13th Street, with whom Harry once boarded, and who, not knowing his real character, had great respect for him, and whom, too, Harry evidently really respected, for I had been told that he always spoke of her in terms of admiration. I fancied she would be as apt as any one to know where were his quarters, and I took a carriage, and drove immediately to her house. Fortunately she was at home; and on inquiring of her if she could tell me where I could find Mr. Dubois the next morning, for I did not let her know my haste, she said that she guessed I'd be most apt to find him in his office in Pine Street, No. 34; that he had applied to her for board two days before, with which she could not accommodate him for a week or so to come; so he said he would sleep on a lounge in his office, and take his meals out till she could give him quarters, and that the day before he sent up for blankets, with which she had supplied him.

My plan was complete. Hurrying away from her house, I ordered the driver to push straight for my rooms, where, arming myself completely, I drove on as far as the post office, when, ordering the driver to await my return, I alighted, and proceeded to 34 Pine Street. As it chanced, next door was the office of my friend, the late Simeon Draper, and I was not a little pleased to find a light there, and one of his clerks and another man looking over some papers, as I saw through the window. Tapping on the door, it was readily unlocked, and I said to the clerk, who recognized me, "No questions asked; but let _me_ inquire if you are going to be here for fifteen minutes longer?"

"Yes, for an hour, perhaps."

"Well, I may call again."

"Do so--are you after a 'bird'?" asked the clerk, with a knowing wink in his eye; for he very quickly divined that I was on some detective mission; for Mr. Draper had been a frequent patron of mine, and often sent this clerk to me on business.

I closed the door, and ran up two flights of stairs to "Dubois's" room, and immediately rapped upon the door.

No noise within--all silence! Had the bird flown? I thought not. I believed he was there. Again I rapped.

"Who's there?" asked a half-sleepy voice.

I replied, "O! you're asleep, Mr. Dubois--are you? Well, no matter. It's a case of exigency. I knew you were here; saw you as you came in; and there's a man fainted away in Draper's office, and I'm alone with him, and want you, if you will, to watch him while I run for a doctor. Don't mind to dress yourself more than half--come quickly," and I started away rapidly down stairs, and returned as rapidly, and rapping on the door again, exclaimed, "Get ready, and run down as quick as you can, while I go for a doctor. The door's unlocked; but see here, he may revive, and want some stimulus. Here's the key to the back closet. There's a bottle of brandy there. Here, take it."

The unsuspicious Harry opened the door slightly to take the key, when I pushed in. On his finger gleamed that very ring. He was but half dressed, coat off, a muscular fellow, and just in trim for fighting. I saw the situation, and pulling out a pistol, clapped it to his face, and extending my left hand, said, "It's no use, Harry; give me Mr. Clemens' ring without any noise, or I'll call the officers at the door below."

Harry was never before so confounded; protested he had no ring but his own.

"We'll see," said I. "Mr. Hale will be here in a moment. If he comes, it's all day with you. He can identify the ring, and--so--can--I. Give it to me at once!" I exclaimed, with a stern voice.

Harry saw that I knew all about it, and yielded, begging me to not expose him. I assured him I had no care to do so; but should exact of him the expenses I had incurred for the carriage, which, at that time of night, would be about fifteen dollars; which he quickly took from out a large sized roll of bills from his inner vest pocket. The gas he had lighted when he rose to dress, was turned on at full head, and gleamed like a spectre through the room. I examined the money to see that it was not counterfeit, put it in my pocket, and bade Harry "good night," telling him I guessed the man in Draper's had recovered by this time, and that he needn't trouble himself to go down.

I drove to my rooms, paid the driver, and having deposited the ring in my little safe, went to bed, and pondered on the next step--the finding of Mr. Clemens next day. I arose rather early next morning, and went in search. I expected to find him and his friends at some of the prominent hotels; but they were not there to be found, but had left the St. Nicholas some three days before, and where gone nobody knew. But the coachman would know where he took them. After waiting hours to find the coachman, I at last learned that they had all gone to a house in Madison Square, to which I proceeded, and found it the private residence of one of our prominent citizens. The parties, therefore, were evidently of the _elite_, and were to be approached delicately. Perhaps they hadn't told their friends of their loss, and from pride might not want it known. How should I proceed? Well, I rung the bell, and inquired of the servant if a Mr. Clemens was stopping there; and learned that he was, but that he and his wife had gone out, and would not be back till evening. "Was a Mr. Hale there?" "Yes; but he, too, and his wife have gone with Mr. and Mrs. Clemens." I didn't want the ring about me. I had pressing work to do that day and that evening; in fact, I hardly knew whether I should have time to call that evening or not. So I asked the servant if he could provide me envelope and paper, for I would leave a note for my friends. I was ushered into the library, and given the due materials; and addressing a note to Mr. Hale, which ran much as follows:--

"SIR: I have not the pleasure of your personal acquaintance,
but the fact that I am the _true_ friend of your cousin, Mr.
Robert McDonald, of New Orleans, will be all the assurance, I
presume, that you will want of my being entitled to an audience
with you. I have called to see you upon interesting and
important business, and finding that you are not to return till
evening, I beg to ask you to expect me at half past eight
o'clock. Do not, if you please, by any means fail to be at
home. I would also be pleased to meet Mr. Clemens; and I trust
you will not consider me impertinent (and you will not when you
come to learn my errand), if I ask also to meet Mrs. Hale and
Mrs. Clemens at the same time.

"I would prefer to meet none of the family residing here, but
yourselves alone.

"Yours, very respectfully,

"---- ----."

I hurried through my business for the remainder of the day, and a little before half past eight was duly at the house on Madison Square.

Being admitted, I called for Mr. Hale. He came to see me in the hall; looked at me mysteriously; was very civil and polite, but coldly so. I said, "I left a note here to-day for you."

"Yes, sir, I received a curious note, and don't know what to make of it. Please explain your business. We are strangers, and you will excuse me that I am always cautious with strangers, whoever they may be."

He had evidently taken the lesson of the night before to heart.

"But," asked I, "are Mr. and Mrs. Clemens ready to receive me, as I requested in my note?"

"Yes, and Mrs. Hale too."

"Can I see them all immediately, for I've but little time to spare?"

"Yes, sir," said he, quite rigidly; "follow me, sir."

I followed him to a small side parlor, where sat Mr. Clemens and the two ladies.

"This is the gentleman who left the note here to-day, and says he knows Bob McDonald," said Mr. Hale, as he bowed me to a chair, and cast a furtive glance at his friends as he spoke McDonald's name.

"Pardon me, sir," I broke in. "I did not say that I _knew_ Mr. McDonald, but that I was a 'true friend' of him, as you'll observe on looking at the note, if you have it, and as I guess I shall prove."

"O, then you don't know my cousin, Mr. McDonald?" asked Mrs. Hale. "I am glad you do not, sir, for I was beginning to fear you if you did. We've seen one of cousin's friends here of late to our regret."

"Well, ladies and gentlemen," said I, "I'll make my story short. You have, indeed, had occasion to regret meeting one of Mr. McDonald's pretended friends. Perhaps he does know him too, personally. But I do not; and I am a 'true friend' to Mr. McDonald, in that I would serve his friends as he would desire to have me, if he knew your late loss."

There were glances from the eyes of each into those of the others--a momentary silence and wonder-looking--when Mrs. Clemens tremulously exclaimed, "Why, sir, do you know all about it? Have you found the ring?"

"Foolish woman!" said Mr. Clemens. "How do you suppose anybody could find what wasn't lost--only stolen?"

"But I have something here for you, sir," said I, as I took the ring from my pocket, and held it up in the light.

"The same!" "That's it!" "Where did you get it?" "Did he lose it, and you find it?" "How glad I am!" etc., burst from their excited lips.

"Be calm, and I'll tell you all about it," said I; and taking their seats, for all had risen to their feet, they listened attentively to my story. I told them my business; how I came to notice them; all that I did--all except what transpired in Pine Street, making a short tale of that.

I had handed the ring, as I commenced my story, to Mr. Clemens, who placed it upon a book lying on the table, where it lay throughout our discourse, which was carried on for nearly an hour. Near the conclusion, Mr. Clemens said, "But after all this I do not feel that the ring is yet justly mine. You have earned a part of it, at least, and I wish you to tell me how much I shall pay you for your trouble. I should have lost the ring wholly but for you, and I am willing to pay you half its value, seven hundred and fifty dollars."

"O, no," said I, "I could not for a moment consent to take so much. In fact, I would have no right to."

"Well, name the price."

"If you give me fifty dollars I shall be satisfied."

"No such paltry sum, sir," said the generous Southerner. "You shall take double, yes, four times that, at least."

"Yes," said Mr. Hale, "and I'll gladly pay half of it, or the whole of it, or double it, and make it four hundred."

But I insisted upon only one hundred; and paying me that, Mr. Clemens restored the ring to his finger, saying, "The next time I allow a stranger, no matter whose friend he is, to trifle with my property, I shall _know_ it, I reckon. It's been a good lesson, cheaply bought, for me."

Business over, these cheerful people insisted upon entertaining me till a late hour, and I recited to them some quaint instances in the detective's life; but they could not but think that their adventure in New York had been the most remarkable of all.

I dare say that the lesson they learned that night will serve them through life; and although their loss was so stupidly occasioned that I presume they keep it secret as to themselves, I've no doubt they sometimes tell it, in the third person, as a warning to their friends who may be "going abroad, travelling."

It is a trite saying, that "'tis not all gold that glitters." Everybody has heard it, and repeated it, but few only profit by it.

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THE MYSTERY AT NO. 89 ---- STREET, NEW YORK.

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"KLEPTOMANIA"--THE TENDENCY TO SUPERSTITION--AN OLD KNICKERBOCKER
FAMILY--A VERY "PROPER" OLD GENTLEMAN, A MR. GARRETSON--HE
CALLS ON ME AT MY OFFICE, AND FINDS A CURIOUS-LOOKING ROOM--HIS
STORY OF WONDERS--"EVERYTHING" STOLEN--TALK ABOUT DISEMBODIED
SPIRITS--THE MYSTERY DEEPENS--PROBABLE CONJECTURE
BAFFLED--VISIT TO MR. GARRETSON'S HOUSE--MRS. GARRETSON, A
BEAUTIFUL AND CULTIVATED OLD LADY--WE SEARCH THE HOUSE--AN
ATTIC FULL OF OLD SOUVENIRS--WE LINGER AMONG THEM--MR.
GARRETSON'S DAUGHTER IS CONVINCED THAT DISEMBODIED SPIRITS ARE
THEIR TORMENTORS--SHE PUTS AN UNANSWERABLE QUESTION--A
DANGEROUS DOG AND THE SPIRITS--TEDIOUS AND UNAVAILING WATCHING
FOR SEVERAL DAYS AND NIGHTS--THE "SPIRITS" AGAIN AT
WORK--RE-CALLED--THE MYSTERY GROWS MORE WONDERFUL--THE "SPIRIT"
DISCOVERED AND THE MYSTERY UNRAVELLED--THE FAMILY SENT
AWAY--THE ATTIC RE-VISITED WITH MR. G. AND ITS TREASURES
REVEALED--A RE-DISCOVERY OF THE "SPIRITS"--THE FAMILY REVIEW
THEIR LONG-LOST TREASURES FOUND--REFLECTIONS ON THE CAUSES OF
THE MYSTERY--A PROBLEM FOR THE DOCTORS.

"Kleptomania," the delicate term of modern coinage from the old Greek, which is used to signify a passion for thieving under peculiar circumstances, and is mostly used when the thief is a person of some importance and of moneyed means, so that the lust for gain is not supposed to be his prompter to the "offence against the statute in such cases made and provided," indicates a moral "dereliction" which not only attacks the wakeful subject, but sometimes infuses itself into the dreams of sleepers. Many women in a state of pregnancy are said to be liable to this disease, so to term it, who, in any other state, would be horrified at the bare mention of the crime of theft. They exhibit great adroitness in their man[oe]uvres when under the influence of the disease, and possess a boldness, too, of which, in their strictly "right minds," they would be utterly incapable. Such establishments as Stewart's great retail dry goods store expend large sums of money yearly in the employment of detectives to watch the customers, to see that they do not slyly purloin such goods as they may easily secrete in carpet-bags, in their pockets, under shawls, or under their dresses, and so on. Not a small number of these would-be thieves are kleptomaniacs, and mostly women suffering under diseases peculiar to the sex, or women in a state of pregnancy, whose blood is more or less driven in unusual quantities into the head, and stirs there passions and desires which they never so feel at other times. The philosophy of this thing would be a pleasant matter of study, and falls legitimately enough into the line of a detective's life to investigate; but here is not the place for its discussion at any great length.

I may run some risk in the narration of this tale, of trespassing upon the feelings of some persons who might prefer that I say nothing about it; for the facts were known to a large circle of highly-respectable people, mostly relatives of the "chief person of the drama," who would, perhaps, prefer that the matter should rest in peace, and go out in oblivion by and by. But I will endeavor to be delicate and courteous enough, in the avoidance of names, and in my general descriptions, to offend no one of those relatives who may read this.

There are a great many people who have a natural tendency to superstitions of all kinds. They have excellent common sense, for example, in everything except in matters of a religious nature. A family of such people may be divided into religious partisans of the bitterest stamp; the one may be a Baptist, for instance, and believe that all the rest, who disagree with him, must be lost. Another member may be a modern "Adventist," deny the doctrine of the essential immortality of the soul, and think his brother, who does believe in it, guilty of a proud and sinful assumption and godless vanity in so doing. Another may become an English churchman, and gravitate from that character into the Roman Catholic church, and feel that all the rest,--the Baptist, the Adventist, etc.,--must "perish eternally," unless they come into the fold of the Roman see. And still another may be a modern Spiritualist, and believe in the return of "departed souls" to earth, to commune directly, or through "mediums," with poor mortals here, etc. It seems to depend very much upon how the superstitious element in each member of such families is first or finally addressed, as to what each may become.

The reader will please conceive of an old, respectable family of Knickerbockers, into whose veins was infused a little Yankee blood, imported from near Boston, Mass., a family whose sires held in the past high rank and official position in the state and nation--a family not a little proud of its far-off Dutch and English stock--reared in wealth and luxury, well bred, of course, at home, and well educated, both the males and the females; with a large amount of landed estate in various parts of the country, and blessed with a plenty of houses and building lots in the cities of New York and Brooklyn; and, in fact, I have been told that their property could be pointed out all along the road, from Jersey City to Morristown, New Jersey. In fact it was by the possession of city lots, and the constant increase of value thereof, that the family acquired the larger portion of their estate. Add to this that the relatives of the family are mostly rich, and that such of them as are not rich, belong to that highly respectable, humdrum sort of people, who are here and there found in the midst of the stir and bustle of New York, who persist in representing old notions, old modes of doing business, and whose chief pride exercises and delights itself in talking over what their fathers did, who their grandfathers were, etc., or in preserving, perhaps, some legend, that when Washington had his residence near Bowling Green, their grand-uncle, or some other relative, was a welcome visitor there. It is necessary to bring to the mind's eye this class of people in order to comprehend the commotion which bestirred them at the time when I was called to "work up a case" in their midst.

One day, in the last "decade," I was waited on by a very proper old gentlemen, neatly dressed, with long white locks smoothly combed, hanging over his shoulders. The old gentleman possessed one of those passionless faces, so difficult to read, unless you can get a chance to peer down the eyes. He wore his gloves just one size too large; a little too independent to conform to the fashion of tight gloves, and a little too aristocratic to go without any,--(although I think a poor-fitting glove no ornament, to say the least),--and walked with the short, dainty, quick step of the men of note of the last century; he was tall, that is, about five feet and ten inches in height, rather slim, though he evidently had been a man of quite robust form.

But some name I must have--and what better can I substitute for the real one than Garretson? I might have chosen Paulding, or Van Wyck; but I may wish to use them yet in this. Well, such a looking man was Mr. Garretson, as he came one day into my office, bearing me a note of introduction from an old skipper who had his office in Pearl Street then, near Wall Street. The note, it appeared, was written at Mr. Garretson's, on peculiar family note paper, and bore the Garretson coat of arms, and would, I presume, have been sealed with the Garretson "stamp," and a pile of sealing-wax as large as one of the lead drops on "bulls," which the Pope attaches to deeds of excommunication, or of convocation of councils, if it had not been a note of introduction, and therefore not proper to be sealed; for the Garretsons were never known to do anything which was not proper, not suitable to their rank, and so forth, to do. The old gentleman stared a little as he entered my office, evidently expecting to find its appointments a little more to his taste, instead of finding "everything" in the office, and nothing in order; and asking if such were my name, and being answered in the affirmative, he daintily handed me the note.

"Be seated, sir," said I, as I took it; and pointed him to a seat near the window, which looked out on the public street, and the only empty seat in my office save mine, the rest being filled with books, papers, coats, hats, shackling irons, some old disguises, masks, etc., which I had that day pulled out of a trunk to give them an airing, and had scattered about. As I read the note, I looked at the old gentleman, and found him looking out of the window, as if he were uneasy, and was questioning in his mind what manner of man was he whom he had come to visit and consult,--for so intimated the letter of my old friend, the skipper.

I finished the perusal of the note in a minute or so, and stepping up to the old man, offered him my hand, with the usual salutations, and drawing my chair near him, sat down.

"Well, Mr. Garretson, our friend has intimated your business with me. I am at your service."

There was quite a long pause, when the old man brought his cane down on the floor between his legs, rested his hands upon the head of it, bent over it a little, and began:--

"Really, Mr. ----, I was thinking why, on the whole, I had come here; for the more I think, the less do I believe that you can give us any assistance. We've tried everything ourselves."

"Yes, sir, perhaps I cannot assist you; but if you will tell me your story, I shall probably be able to tell you whether I can or not immediately."

"That's the trouble, sir; the question of probabilities in the matter," said he; "for my story is a peculiar one, and involves the disclosure of matters which I should not like to tell you, unless you can conscientiously say that you think you can solve one of the greatest mysteries in the world,"--and here he paused.

"Why, sir," said I, "everything is a mystery to those who do not understand it. I cannot assure you that I can be of any service to you; but it is my business to unravel these matters which are mysteries to most people, and however complicated your case may be, I dare say I can cite many instances of as difficult ones, which have been worked out."

"I presume so," said he. "You are right. 'What man has done man may do,' you know; but we've tried everything which seems possible to be done, to solve the trouble."

"Doubtless all you have thought of as being practicable has been tried, sir; but there is some solution of your trouble possible, sir, of course."

"Yes, yes; that's true--unless there is some superior power at work in the matter. Some of my family and friends think there is."

"O, ho! Then to find out _that_ for a certainty would be a solution worth having; but you can only discover that by first proving that your affair is not operated by any ordinary power. Do you mean that it's thought to be the work of disembodied spirits?"

"Yes, and I confess I am half-inclined to think so myself; and I almost feel sorry that I have come to you so soon," said he, in a voice and manner which revealed to me his superstitious proclivities quite pointedly.

"O, well, sir," I replied, "it is not proper for me to press you to tell your story now. You must be your own judge of the propriety of doing so; but if you wish to, you can recite your case to me confidentially, and I will give you whatever construction of it may occur to me."

"Well, if the matter can remain a secret with you, if you do not see a way to solve it, I will tell you, and I do presume that you may be able to cast some light upon it. The case is this. I live at No. 89 ---- Street, as you already know from Mr. ----'s note."

"Yes, sir; I call the house to mind; have often noticed it as I have passed along that street."

"Well, sir, now for some eight months I've been able to keep nothing in our house of a small kind, and valuable nature, such as spoons, napkin rings, all sorts of silver ware, jewelry, watches, ladies' dresses, and my own clothing, etc., in fact, anything; it is all mysteriously carried off. I say mysteriously, for we have kept watch, night after night, and things would disappear right before our eyes, as it were."

"Well," said I, after a pause of some length, in which the old man seemed to be pondering whether he would go on with his story or not, looking bewildered, as if there was something he wished to tell me about, but did not quite dare to, or was ashamed to tell. "Well, tell me the whole story. How many persons are there in your family?"

"My wife and myself, three unmarried daughters; two married ones spend much time there too; and two of my sons, unmarried. They are in business; but I like to have my family about me--"

"Are these all?"

"Yes, except the servants. I have four maid-servants in the house, besides my coachman and butler."

"Do you suspect none of these servants?"

"No; I've tested them in every way. They have all, with the exception of one girl, been with me for from ten to twenty-five years. I called the women maid-servants; two of them are widows, one has been a widow for twenty years, and has lived with us for all that time, and the butler has been with us longer. I would trust any of them as soon as I would my own children."

"Of course, then, you suspect no one in your house?"

"No, no; there's nobody there to do these things. We've all watched and watched, I tell you, and the servants are as much interested as we to know who is the guilty actor, for they have lost many things as well as the rest of us."

"You speak of one girl who has not been there so long as the rest. How long has she been with you?"

"About three years."

"Has she a lover who visits the house?"

"O, yes; and he's been coming there for two years."

"Why don't he marry her and take her away?"

"My wife wouldn't part with her--will keep her as long as she lives, if she can. She thinks she's the best servant she ever saw. We should suspect her least of all. She has lost nearly every keepsake her lover has given her, and some very valuable things which her mother gave her on leaving Ireland, and the poor girl has nearly cried her eyes out over her loss."

"Well, her lover, what sort of a man is he?"

"A hard working mechanic; works at the Novelty Works, and bears an excellent name."

"Is he Irish, too? I suppose he is."

"No; he is an Englishman--a Yorkshire man, I think."

"Is he Protestant or Catholic?"

"Protestant to be sure. She's Catholic, though."

"Have you ever talked with him about your losses?"

"Yes; and he and Mary, the girl, have watched several times, sitting up to keep my wife company, who was watching too; sitting up half the night, and things would disappear then."

"So you have no reason for suspecting him. Well, the case _does_ look a little strange, I confess," said I; "but I would like to have you go into detail all about your premises; where the things taken were, who were in your house at the time, the kind of locks you have on your doors; what searches you have made, at what hours, or between what hours, the things have been taken; for how long, in consecutive days or weeks, things have been stolen; if there's been any cessation of these pilferings for any length of time since they began; if you have ever discovered any traces of anybody's having gotten into the house at this or that window; what part of the house has been rifled the most,"--and every other query I could then think of, I added.

This drew from the old gentleman a minute story of the whole affair. I found the locks were the best; that he had a ferocious watch-dog loose every night in the lower and middle part of the house, but excluded from the chambers, on the servants' account, who were afraid of him; that all parts of the house were rifled alike, and it seemed from what he said that the thefts were accomplished from about the time of the family's retiring until morning, for they had watched sometimes till near morning, and then on rising would find something gone, mostly things of value, too; but sometimes trivial things, such as the grand-children's tops, etc., when they happened to be visiting there. The relatives of the family had been called in to watch too; but things went when they were there the same, and when the watch was most complete as to the number of watchers, then it was that the most valuable things were missed, and injury (evidently out of pure malevolence) done to valuable furniture; and finally Mr. Garretson told me that there had been two obvious attempts to fire the house,--and this he uttered with tremulous emotions.

From all I could gather from him I could not make up my mind to any conclusions upon which it could rest, and I told him I must visit the premises, and make examinations for myself. But I could not go till the next day or night, for that night I had engaged to meet some parties in counsel upon an important matter; "but which," said I, to him, "was more mysterious, a week ago, than anything you have told me, and which has been worked out. Now we are to consult as to how best to get the guilty parties into our hands, for we know who they are." This seemed to encourage Mr. Garretson for a little, and we parted, I to call at his house some time next day, at my convenience.

I went as appointed, and was presented by Mr. Garretson to his wife, a fair-looking old lady, of the blonde school. Indeed, she was a motherly, sweet woman to look upon, and had evidently drunken at the "fountain of youth" somewhere; for although she was only five years younger than Mr. Garretson, as I learned, she looked thirty years his junior. Her face was a blending of the Greek and modern German in style, nose aquiline, and head broad, and not lacking in height; a pleasingly-shaped head to look upon; and there was all the mercy, tenderness, and kindness in her eye and voice which one could desire to find in a woman.

There was a sweet, unostentatious dignity, too, about her which compelled respect. She gave me a long account of the household's troubles, of her own watchings night after night, of the hypotheses she had had about the matter, and how one by one they had been exploded; and she and Mr. Garretson took me all over the house, even up into the attic, among piles of old "lumber," such as boxes, old trunks, old furniture, that had been set aside to make room for new, piled up with hosts of things which almost any other family would have sent off to the auction shops, or sold to second-hand furniture men. But she explained that some of these things had belonged to her grandfather, and other deceased relatives, and that a large old Dutch wooden chest, with great iron clasps all over it, was brought over by Mr. Garretson's ancestors from Europe. These she couldn't bear to sell, she said; "and often," said she, "they afford me great pleasure, for when Mr. Garretson and the girls are gone from home, I sit up here in this old chair" (and she pointed to a large chair, the posts of which were large enough each to make a modern chair out of), "and muse, read, and think over the past, and dwell upon heavenly things to come."

In her talk, Mrs. Garretson became quite animated, and we waited up there, listening to her stories about the old furniture and her ancestors, quite a long while. I noticed that with the excitement of the hour her face had become quite rosy, and that there was a peculiar spot on each cheek, not unlike the hectic flush upon the cheeks of the consumptive. But she was, apparently, in the full vigor of health; a tall, but solidly-made woman, and evidently had no trouble in her lungs. But the spots gave her face a peculiar expression, and withal seemed, somehow, to give her eyes the look of subtle intelligence, which I had not observed before. I found that although Mr. Garretson was a sensible old man, well educated, and, withal, courtly, yet Mrs. G. was the chief spirit of the house, and so I consulted her further when we came from the attic. We visited each chamber, and looked into each closet, of course; and the windows of the house in front and rear were all examined, and I satisfied myself too that there was no easy approach, and no way of getting in without great risk to life or limb from the other adjoining houses; and I examined the basement as thoroughly, talked with the servants, and finally with the daughters, two of whom were then at home, and who came in from making morning calls. One of these daughters had settled down upon the conviction that the thefts were the work of disembodied spirits; but to my query if she meant by these words "departed _friends_," she smiled, and said, "Not exactly;" and went on to tell me her religious notions about "evil spirits," as well as good ones, etc. The father fell in with her views considerably; but the clear-headed old lady, the mother, in a kind way, combated them with great force. But there was no answering the daughter when she retorted,--

"Well, perhaps it is not the work of spirits; but will you tell me whose work it is--who does it?"