Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 28, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 February 1911 — Page 3

Mrs. Bingham’s Solitaire

Taken from the Archives of Bullivants, Limited, the greatest inquiry and detective agency of modern times

By FREDERICK. REDDALE

■■■■■■ft NE of the most Interest-" Oing exploits of Percival Nagel—the immaculate, l late, the boyish, the ex^ quisite Percy Nagel, of ■■■*■■ Bullivants’ great agenc* cy—was the occasion £» when, impersonating one of New York’s gildsH irab ec * y° uth . he unraveled jS' the mystery attending the disappearance of an J »J_ unset diamond of almost fabulous value V owned by Mrs. “Barty” Bingham, pne of Man-

hattan’s four thousand, a multiManhattan’s four thousand, a multimillionairess by virtue of copper, coal, oil, and other quite too horrid crude “products never mentioned in polite society. Mrs. “Barty” Bingham—the late lamented Bartholomew had considerately left her a widow, fair, fat, and 40—had literally bought her way into the social swim by virtue of lavish entertaining, via a box at the Metropolitan, a mansion in hideously bad taste on Riverside Drive, a "cottage” at Newport, and a “country place” in the Berkshires. Herself of the earth earthy, it is perhaps unnecessary to chronicle that she combined under her exaggerated coiffure all that was offensive to good taste and good manners. Loud of voice, parrot-like in speech, of execrable taste in dress and surroundings, at times profane and positively vulgar, with absolutely no mental resources, and never satisfied unless surrounded by a crowd of sycophants, Mrs. “Barty” existed solely by virtue of her millions. That she spent her money like water on these and their ilk, that she was at the same time cruel and parsimonious in dealing with her domestics, naturally of a mean and suspicious disposition, may serve to round out the portrait of a woman who for years was the jest, the joke, and the dupe of a certain coterie in the so-called “society” of New York. There be those yet living who will recognize the type. Yet she had her good points and her generous moments. To Bullivants' agency in the Park Row building came—or rather longdistance telephoned—Mrs. Bingham—the Mrs. Bingham, if you please, in great trouble. So great was the emergency that none but Bullivants’ best and brightest would suffice her needs. It so happened that Percival Nagel ®f the irreproachable clothes and manners was the only member of the staff on hand could cope with a case like hers. So he was immediately dispatched to the scene of trouble—a huge, rambling palace t some five or six miles outside of Lenox—his only instructions being that, to disarm suspicion—and scandal—he was to present himself in the guise of a weekend guest agfi receive his instructions from the sorely-harassed chatelaine on his arrival. Fortunately for Percy and for Bullivants he was used to playing many parts and could fill the role of idle exquisite to perfection. He knew just what to do and how and when to do it—even to snubbing and insulting the servants at' first and tipping them lavishly afterward—as is the habit of our newly-rich American hobble-de-hoy aristocracy. So thoroughly did he enter into the part he was to play that he seriously debated with Bullivants’ manager whether it wouldn’t be wise to make his appearance at the gates of “The Boulders" in his “own” $7,000 Mercedes, and with his "own” particular . and private chauffeur and valet? For Percy Nagel liked a Joke. However, better counsels prevailed, and he approached the sacred region by way of the Berkshire Express, carrying his own well-filled suit-case containing everything that the most supercilious “man” could possibly expect, from flannels to Tuxedo—several changes in all. Arriving at “The Boulders” about five o’clock of a Saturday, he was straightway shown to his room, where he changed, bathed, and otherwise went through the motions commonly ascribed to those who move in American upper circles, whether they need It or not. Then, after the prescribed decent Interval, there came a message from Mrs. "Barty” Bingham herself that she would be pleased to see him fin the “morning-room”—for you must know that Mrs. Bingham patterned herself and her household after what she supposed the English landed gentry would do or say. So. with a preternaturally solemn face. Mr. Percival Nagel followed his conductor and shortly found himself in the presence of his whilom hostess, who inspected him through a gold and jeweled lorgnette, although her eyesight was warranted to catch 1 derelfet housemaid at 40 rods. Nagel’s mentaf and monosyllabic comments were somewhat to this effect: “Ugh! Fat blowsy mean upstart—parvenu—toady suspicious—vain—yet—”

(Copyright, 1910, by W. O. Chapman)

He had got thus far in his mental catalogueing when the lady spoke: “You are Mr. Nagel? Yes. Well, Mr. —er—Nagel—there’s been a most unpleasant er—occurrence here concerning which —er—*-I—er desiah no publicity, you understand, but which —er —l want cleared up and —er —the guilty persons punished.” She did not explain how the guilty were to be punished without publicity, but Nagel let that pass, merely saying: “If you will acquaint me with the facts, Mrs. Bingham, I shall be in a position to understand and advise.” “You’re,a detective, ain’t you?” inquired the mistress of “The Boulders,” dropping into \the vernacular when she “ran” an eating-house in Kokomo. “Sometimes we are.;., called that,” Nagel responded gently. “Well, then, see what you can make of this: You must know that my late husband was partial to precious stones. Jest before he died he bought’ an’ gave me a very swell stone —a di’mond —’most as big as a pigeon’s egg, and worth all of $50,000. I never had It set, ’cause some day 1 thought I might pick up its mate, an’ then if wearin’ eardrops came into fashion I’d have a pair, you see. Well, Mr. Nagel, the night before last while we was all at dinner somebody started t’ talk about di’monds. My niece, very foolishly, mentioned my big di’mond, an’ nothin’ would do but I must have it down to show ’em. So, I sent my maid to get it out of the safe. I always kep’ it in its own case, you know, an’ it was passed round the table from one end to the other, up one side an’ down again. Fin’lly it came back to me, an’ I shut the lid an’ laid the case by my plate. After a bit I told Celeste—that’s my maid —to take th’ thing upstairs an’ put it away. Thinks I to myself, I’d take a look at the beauty before It went, so I snapped back th’ lid. True as I’m settln’ an’ breathin’ here this minute, Mr. Nagel, th’ stone was gone! There was nothin’ Inside but th’ crimson plush linin’!” “And then what happened?” queried Nagel, as the short-breathed narrator paused, her fat bosom palpitating and she herself hoarse with emotion.

“Why, th’ whole table was in an uproar. My guests felt dreadfully. Bein’ a lady, I accused no one, of course—but some one took that drmond, Mr. Nagel, an’ I want to know who it was pretty quick!” “You are sure the stone was in the box when it came back to you after going the rounds of the table?” “If it was my last dying word I’d swear to It,” was the agitated answer. “How many were at table, not counting the servants, of course?” “Let me see,” and Mrs. Bingham began counting on her plump and hideously bejeweled fingers. “Why—er—we sat down 18 all told.” “Yes. And who was the last person who handled the box and the stone before it was returned to you?” “That’s the most awful part of th’ whole thing, Mr. Nagel,” returned his hostess, lowering her voice and almost whispering. “Sir Nigel Deering occupied the place of honor on my right hand. It was him who handed the box to me with one of his bee-yu-tiful bows. It would mortify me to death even to hint that he knew anything aboufit.” • “What did your guests say and do?” “Why they all jumped up dn’ pushed their chairs back an’ began to hunt for the stone. But I knew that was no use—’cause I’d seen it in th’ box when it came back to me, an’ so I told ’em. Then some of the :nen —Oh, they all acted like perfect gentlemen—laughed and tried to joke it off. an’ said we’d ought to close the doors and search every one present. An’ would you believe it, Sir Nigel Deering behaved just noble —said that he’d volunteer to be th’ first one!” “And was the suggestion carried out?” queried Nagel, gently. For despite the Inherent vulgarity of his hostess and employer, he somehow could not help liking her. "Why, Mr. Nagel, of course not!” came the surprised ejaculation. ”1 hope I know my duties to my guests. Not for a dozen such di’monds woiAd I so insult them —particularly Sir Nigel. ’Course, I laughed It offsaid I guessed th’ maids ’d find it in th’ raornin’ when they swep’, an’ turned it off like that. But true as I sit here, Mr. Nagel. I haven’t slep’ a wink thlnkin’ of it! I don’t wish any scandal or any horrid talk, but I do want my di’mond back.” “Who suggested your application to my firm?” was Nagel's next query; > Again Mrs. “darty" lowered her voice. “It was Sir Nigel Deering.” she confessed. "Said he’d heard of you in London.” Percy nodded, reflecting that might very well be the case, and also that the suggestion showed the baronet to be well posted In such matters. "Now, Mrs. Bingham,” he resumed,' ■peaking very earnestly and eyeing

the lady closely, *•I want you to tell me if there Is anyone you suspect? Remember, we expect the fullest confidence from our clients. Otherwise we can promise no results. You may •rely, upon my discretion.” lira. Bingham grew positively chalklike under her make-up. “Must I answer that question, Mr. Nagel?” she inquired, hoarsely. “Unless you want me to drop the case here and now, Mrs. Bingham,” was the merciless rejoinder. “Oh —how can I—l’m sure I don’t know —but—it was so queer, you know —and —” “Any of the servants?” Nagel put in. She shook her head while dabbing at her eyes with a four-inch square of cambric. “Then It must have been —” “Hush, for pity’s sake,” she implored, looking around and out of the open window. “I thought—it might have been—oh, how can I say it? — either Sir Nigel Deerlng or my own niece! There!” “But why?” persisted her inquisitor. “Because—oh—well, because they are both poor, Mr. Nagel! And—and —I think he wants to marry her, —perhaps she wanted to help him! And if that’s so, I’d have done anything for them!” Her voice had sunk to a hoarse whisper during the delivery of this wholly illogical and purely-feminine' supposition, gnd she had leaned toward him in her agitation, her jellylike figure all a-quiver with emotion. “But you won’t let it go any further, Mr. Nagel?’’ she Implored. — —- “You may trust my discretion to the lattermost, Mrs. Bingham. I understand your chief desire is to recover the diamond. After that—”

She nodded emphatically. J “Just three things mord/’ said Nagel, “then I’m done, tare all the people still here?” x “Every one!” “I should like to Join you at dfhner to-night, but of course you’ll say nothing to connect me with the missing diamond.” “That’ll be all right,” Mrs. Bingham assured him. “I’ll tell Chalmers to set a plate for you.” “Lastly," said Nagel, as he rose, “kindly send the empty case to my room immediately. Better wrap it up, however, so that the servants won’t suspect.” Mrs. “Barty” nodded comprehension, and really seemed to feel better now that the case was in capable hands. .* Within 15 minutes the morocco-cov-ered and plush-lined case bearing the mark of a famous New York firm was handed through the door, swathed in three or four papers, by Mrs. Bingham’s own maid, Celeste. Nagel locked his door and set about examining the nest which had so recently contained a treasure worth $50,000. He scrutinized it inside and out, particularly the inside, under a powerful lens, and then tossed the case on the bed with a contemptuous —“I thought So.” The exact trend of bis thoughts, however, was only partially divulged by a few words which he whispered to Mrs. "Barty,” after he had taken careful notice of each guest at dinner. The hostess had glanced at him evening, and Nagel seized the opporanxiously several times during the tunity, as a general exodus toward the card-room and brldg£ whist was in progiiiss, to say quietly: “t very much ddhbt whether your diamond was stolen after all!” Although meant to reassure her, Nagel’s vague remark merely sufficed to set Mrs. “Barty’s” mind *wandering

in a mist of conjecture, and the lady’s nerves suffered accordingly. She would have liked to demand a further explanation, but there was an (indefinable something about the slender, youthful-looking sleuth from Bullivants which warned her that he must be allowed to follow his chosen tactics without inquisitive interference. So the m\ich worried hostess repressed her curiosity, and awaited .the march of events with patient resignation.’ Among his many other valuable mental qualities, Mr. Percival Nagel might be said to possess in an unl common degree the faculty which has been termed “the leaping mind,” for want of a better name.« O.ver and over had the value of this unique trait been proved at the very outset of many cases in which he had been engaged. In this instance, however, he found himself confronted with a casq where some scientific knowledge was badly needed as well as intuition. /¥Se problem of Mrs. Bingham’s solitafre required the exercise of both these qualities,—and the Bullivant expert was fortunately not lacking in either. A short conversation during the following Sunday with Miss Marcia Inness, niece of Mrs. Bingham, and a few words exchanged with Sir Nigel Deering, carried sufficient weight with Nagel to. eliminate both these suspects from the purely-criminal aspect of the case, in his opinion. Later, when, although it was Sunday night, bridge and music engrossed the attention of most of the guests, he managed to* secure a few minutes’ tete-a-tete with the girl. “You know, Miss Inness,” he began without formal preamble, “that I am

YOU--ER--ARE INTERESTED IN SIR NIGELERRING

deeply Interested in the loss of your aunt’s diamond?” “I guessed as much,” replied the girl, demurely. “Then perhaps you can also divine that I should highly appreciate any information y9u can give me,” he said, courteously, for the girl’s evident innocence and blonde loveliness appealed to every masculine which he possessed. “I can only tell you what I saw with my own eyes, Mr. Nagel,” she answered, meeting his gaze so frankly that Bullivant’B man hoped from the bottom of his soul that she had no inkling of her aunt’s hasty suspicion. “The unset diamond in its case was passed from one end of the table to the other for the guests to admire. It reached Sir Nigel last of all, and I distinctly saw him hand it to Aunt Laura. She placed it by her plate for a minute, then snapped the lid —and that’s all, except that after a little while, when she went to hand it to her maid, Celeste, the stone had vanir v «d! No one else touched it from the time when my aunt received it, until she opened the case before handing it to the maid.” , Percy Nagel nodded understanding^ "Very remarkable,” he commented. "Almost enough to. make one credit the existence of evil magicians with the power to make material things vanish into thin air. Isn’t it? 1 wonder if you could tell me anything about the history of the stone. Miss Inness; as to where it was purchased, for Instance?” “Certainly I can. Ufficle Bart got it at Grittany’s. I was present on the very day he brought it -ihqme and tossed Jt in Aunt Laura's lap.] He always doing things like thpt,” she ended, naively. “I remember he said it came from Brazil.” Nagel nodded again. More and! more the girl's artless tale confirmed him in hig theo:y. “Pardcu me, Miss Inness, If I put a personal query. My excuse Is that I am trying to clear up a rather puzzling problem. You—er—are interested in Blr Nigel Deering?” A rosy blush flushed Miss Innesg' fjee from neck to brow. “We are en-

gaged,” she murmufed. “He is 'M splendid English ge&tleman,” she with girlish enthusiasm. “We were going to tell Aunt Laura the very night she missed the ,diamond, but she was so upset that, there was no opportunity then or since.” Percy Nagel had heard about all he needed to confirm his belief; nevertheless one link in his chain of evidence remained to be forged. So, late as It was, he asked to be driven to the nearest telegraph office, where he filed the following laconic dispatch to Griffany’s in New York: “Wire full pedigree of Brazilian diamond sold to late Bartholomew Bingham.” By 11 o’clock Monday morning the reply was in his hands, and his case was complete. jfttost of the guests were on the links or out motoring, so he lost no time in requesting an interview with the portly chatelaine of “The Boulders.” She received him in her own special boudoir. “I am happy to Inform you, Mrs. Bingham, that the mystery attending the disappearance of your solitaire is solved. There was no theft, no loss, as we usually understand the term, and consequently neither your guests jior your servants —nor anyone else, for that matter—need he under suspicion.” “Then what —?” Mrs. Bingham was beginning when he interrupted. * "If you will pardon me I can make the matter clear in a very few words. You are simply the victim of a freak of nature!” This was anything but a lucid statement to a lady of Mrs. Bingham’s modest mental caliber, and Nagel watched her facial surprise with twinkling eyes.

“There is no reason to doubt that you yourself were the last person to see and handle the stone on the eventful night when It disappeared,” he went on, coolly ignoring the signs of wonder in the lady's puffy eyes. “But what happened after Sir Nigel Deering handed the stfcne to you I am about to describe. The diamond was a Brazilian stone, I have ascertained. Now, Mrs. Bingham, it is a peculiarity of some diamonds that, having been formed in nature’s crucible under an intensely high pressure, they often contain in their hearts either a globule of moisture or of air. When such stones are exposed to warmth for any length of time this central globule of water or air expands. The result that the diamond simply explodes and vanishes! Scientists and experts will verify this statement should you care to investigate. Hence, this is what happened: Your diamond was passed from hand to hand, touched, examined, and exposed to a high summer temperature. After it had been returned to you, and while it still reposed in its case, the heat and the handling caused that inner flaw to expand. Result: Your stone was blown to atoms, leaving not a trace behind! If you wifi examine the lining of the case you will discover a faint stain on the plush lining. That’s all.” “But—” Yes, yes, said Nagel, soothingly, “of course the loss is one which you hate to sustain, but your late husband undoubtedly had a guarantee from Oriffany’s, and they would or should make good the defect. But even if they do not—” It was now Nagel’s turn to be Interrupted. “Oh, Mr. Nagel!” exclaimed Mn. Bingham, “it wasn’t the value of the stone, though of course, one hates to loi|e anything bo valuable. It was the thought that perhaps—” “Put all that nonsense out of your mind, Mrs. Bingham." broke In Hullivanta’ man almost sternly; “the suspicions you hinted to me were quite unfounded. And unless I am greatly mistaken Miss Inness has something important to tell you Which should make you both gad and happy.”

The ONLOOKER

by WILBUR D. NESBIT

Monetless Land

'Twas a dream that I had of a moneyless land— Nobody was begging with tremuloua hand. Nobody was worrying over his bills. Nobody was striving to fill up his tills, Nobody was plotting for profit and gain. Nobody was trading on hunger and pain’. But everyone there had a moneyless tot— Some said it was heaven, some said it was not. When anyone worked—aa they all did, in fact— He toiled for the pleasure he had in th* act; Some labored with cheeriness all of th* while. Some grumbled and growled and were not seen to smile; Each did what he could for his fellow* each day, , But everyone knew there was no coin for pay. The joy of achievement was all that h* got— Some said it was heaven, some said it was not. No bargains on Monday brought people downtown, No worrying debtors faced anyone's frown; There wasn't a cent in the whole of th* land— And some people thought the arrangement was grand, While others declared that no money to spend Was simply a wearying, pleasureless end, No dollar sign there, nor a decimal dot — Some thought it was heaven, some thought it was not. 'Twas a dream that I had, and I wakened at last And mused o’er the vision with brows overcast: I can’t understand it—some people were glad To do without money, and others weresad; / Some people were happy with nothing to lend, Some people were sorry with nothing to spend. I 'can’t give a name to that moneylessspot— Some said it was heaven, some said it. was not.

Possibly.

“My darlings,” said Abdul Hamid to his 60 wives, ”1 grieve to inform you that it will be Impossible for you to get any new dresses and hats thi* spring. I have Just been deposed.” “You mean thing!” exclaimed the wives. “We believe you have Just got yoursejf deposed to have a good! excuse for not buying anything for us.” But Abdul was already on his way to the telegraph office to offer his services to the yellow newspapers and the vaudeville magnates.

Evil Results.

“John Henrjr." says the devoted wife, "I do wish you would cease staying out late at nights. I am convinced that this loss of sleep, to say nothing of dissipation, is having an ill effect upon* you.” “Nonsense," replies the brutal husband "I’m in as good health as any man of my age and size in this town.” "Possibly," concedes the devoted wife, "but I have noticed that you are not half so clever Inventing excuse* for your late hours as you were a year ago.” *

Confirmed Her Impression.

"My wife," said the man of the house, “told me to come in the kitchen and Inform you that you are discharged." "She did. did she? Well. I had an Idea that your wife was a woman with some kind of a mean disposition, and now I know it. The Idea of her sending you here on such an errand as that!”

Family Note.

“And.” asks the caller of little Freddy “which of you children take after your father?” “Not any of us,” replies little Freddy. “None of you?" “No’m. But mt takes after hint once in a while with the broom."

With Pleasure.

“I'm goii£, to leave you, mum. I'm goln' to worls- for Dftssua Smith, an* would you give me a good reference. mum?” * *' "To work for Mrs. Smith? Certainly, I'll give you a glowing reference I hate that woman.”