Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 78, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 April 1911 — A SET OF FURS [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A SET OF FURS

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

By FREDERICK REDDALE

(Copyright, isu, by W.«. Chapman)

H>," SAID Darius Ward, manager for the uptown New York office of Bullivants, "we never dabble in domestic cases-—divorces, separation suits, and the like—for the reason that the agency, both at home and abroad, never cared for that line of business. But I can tell you of one case where we were the means of staving off serious trouble between man and wife —two of the aieest people imaginable—all on accc unt of the queerest little tangle that ever happened. The Joke was on both of them, and a pinch of frankness on both sides would have acted like the traditional ounce of prevention. But then, men and women are curious critters. Like to hear the story? All right, it wont take long. "I was on duty here one winter afternoon a couple of years back when there was handed to be a card bearing the name ‘Mrs. Robert Denver.' I told the boy to show her in. "Well, sir, she was a lady—one would see that at a glance—and a ■nighty pretty one. Also it was evident that rite was in some sort of trouble. “ ‘What may 1 do for you, Mrs. Denver?’ r inquired after she had dropped Into the very chair you’re sitting in mad raised her veil. Her eyes were wed and swollen from crying. " ‘You are Mr. Ward?’ my caller inquired. I bowed assent. “‘I want a separation from my h-hus-band,’ she half sobbed. ’He’s treated me shamefully and I —l can’t put sip with it any 1-longer!* and the poor woman dabbed both eyes vindictively with a ball of cambric that had already done good service. “I naturally scanned her more closely while she was making this remarkable statement. She was young—four or five and twenty, I judged, and nicely though not expensively dressed. Her furs, I noticed, were rather shabby and hopelessly out of style. “ ‘Pardon me.’ I reminded her, ‘Bullivants are not lawyers; we are merely inquiry agents. You should take legal advice first Then, if evidence te wanted, we might perhaps be Induced to act under instructions from your attorney.’ „ “'Oh!' she gasped, ‘I d-didn't know that! I-I’ve never done anything like this b-before, you see. and —and I wouldn’t now, only I’ve been so cruelly, so horridly treated!* “I began to smoke out a tempest in si teapot—one of those domestic neartragedies which, if taken in time and nipped in the bud. with a judicious vise of strong and sensible advice to both parties, may avert serious shipwreck. -, '. '■ ■ ‘"Suppose you tell me all about it, Mrs. Denver,’ 1 suggested. ‘Perhaps things are not as bad as they seem.’ '“‘Oh, they are, really!’ she assured xne, with wide open eyes and a dash of color in her cheeks. Already her voice was stronger as indignation over her wrongs once more gained ascendency. “‘Well, well.’ I urged, soothingly, ‘I s can’t advise you unless I have the facts, you know. I’ve no wish to intrude — “ ‘Oh, 11l tell you the whole wretched, treacherous story,’ she broke in, -and you shall judge if I haven’t just cause for complaint.’ “So I composed myself to listen. It was almost ludicrous, the tale she unfolded, yet 1 was interested and speedily made up my mind to help her—to help both, in fact, her and the husband —and clear up the mystery; for I was a bit puztled. “Mrs. Denver told me her tale of woe up to a certain point Before I could offer any solution I saw that it would be necessary to get the husband's version. ** ‘Of course there’s a misunder•taning somewhere.’* I assured her, delicately. ‘Go you home, Mrs. Denver; I’ll phone Mr. Denver to stop in here on his way uptown. Don’t fret any more. You haven't been—well—exactly yourself, you know, but I believe everything can be explained satisfactorily—on both sides. And don’t forget’ 1 reminded her as she rose to go, that you’ve something of a confession to make yourself when he gets home —so be both forbearing and merciful.’ “Welt I fancy she went away feeling not quite so blue. I got Denver on the wire and in half an hour he was sitting in the same chair his wife bad so lately occupied. I had expect ed to see him look guilty and embarrassed when 1 broached the subject, but to my surprise he showed not the ■lightest sign of guilt. "However, I guess I'd better not ■poll the story by giving it to you In half-sections. Here is what had al ■wady happened and what subsequently occurred when the reconciliation took place that evening, told connectedly. HI have to go back and begin

“Being the junior partner of his firm, Buckley St Denver, grain and cotton brokers, Bob Denver was compelled to spend several weeks each year ‘on the road,’ while the resident senior partner looked after the New York end of the business. “Now, the aforesaid Bob was a benvedict of some two years’ standing, and supposed to be still enamored of his wife, who before her marriage had been the lively and popular Madge Hering. “Under these circumstances it irked the junior partner that he must perforce leave his pretty spouse alone in the city—the term being understood literally, for relatives she had none. Not that he distrusted her for a single, solitary moment, but he really feared that she would be dull as well as lonely. “So before he kissed her good-by it was understood that if their rather elderly mutual friend. Dave Atchison, a wealthy New Yorker, should occasionally invite Mrs. Denver to theater or opera, or even to dinner somewhere, there would be no harm in her acceptance under the circumstances. “All of which fell out exactly as planned, Atchison proving a very gallant and charming substitute. He was not too mature; he was a ‘good spender,’ and above all things delighted in being seen out and about with a young and pretty woman. “Now you are not to imagine that Mrs. Madge was otherwise than ‘perfectly nice’ and 'entirely proper.’ But she loved those excursions into the gay uptown life which ‘dear Bob’ could not as yet afford, and so she saw no harm in letting Atchison entertain her, especially since Rob himself was ‘wise’ thereto. “One day—it was late in November —returning from a spin to Yonkers in Atchison's car. she shivered slightly as they whizzed through the park and her companion remarked: “ ‘Next time you’d better wear your furs.’ “Madge made a little pout behind her veil, saying while pointing to a shabby stole that had done duty since the previous season: “ 'This is all I have.’ “David Atchison was a man of few words, so he merely grunted. But instead of turning Into Fifty-fourth street, whereon the Denvers lived, he kept right down the avenue, stopping finally outside New York’s ‘classiest’ furrier’s. In silence he helped her to the sidewalk and led the way within the plate glass doors. “ ‘Set of furs for this lady,’ he announced, tersely, to the salesman — ‘best you’ve got.’ “‘Why Mr. Atchison!’ expostulated Madge, in an undertone, her cheeks aflame. ‘What —indeed —I couldn’t think of allowing you to do such a thing!’ " ‘That's all right,’ growled Dave, patting her shoulder. ‘Pay me back some day, you know, if you want to.’ “Madge’s mind was in a whirl. In a trice she was being fitted with one costly garment after another —seal, sable. Persian lamb, mink; half-length, three-quarter length, full length; coats, capes, stoles and muffs. Never was woman, so bedeviled. What with her bewilderment and her passionate love of rich and pretty things, she hesitated —and w« all know what happens to the lady who hesitates. "In the end she walked out of the store and into the motor again clad in an elegant three-quarter length coat of ‘real’ sable, with boa and muff to match, for which, in & private interview with the salesman, David Atchison had exchanged a check expressed in four figures. “Her only remonstrance was: ‘l’m sure Bob will be dreadfully angry.’ To which Atchison returned, with a quiet laugh, ’Perhaps —but why tell him?’ “ *Oh. but I must!* almost wailed Madge, ‘they’re far too handsome for me, anyway.’ “ ‘Nonsense,’ was her companion's rejoinder. ‘Nothing’s too good for you. Where’s your God-given woman's wit? Don’t ladies sometimes save something out of their housekeeping money?’ And he chuckled so that Madge herself had to laugh. “Wril. Mrs. Denver could scarcely sleep that night for thinking of her treasures and for the next few days she wore them delightedly everywhere. albeit she felt dreadfully guilty. Then came the query: What would Bob say? How could she make him understand? She was certain he would not be pleased. And yet she hated to send the furs back to the donor. “At length she hit on what seemed to her a rather clever plan, although its carrying out involved some little duplicity, but by this time she was ready to go to almost any lengths to keep her darling ’set.’ Three days before Bob was due she went out one afternoon about dusk wearing her sables; when she returned they no longer draped her shapely shoulders or shielded her hands. “In the interim she had visited a. pawnshop over on Sixth avenue, receiving in exchange and a small

colored ticket made out to 'Mary Nevins.’ In the haven of the Denver apartment the went into the kitchen, dropped the flimsy ticket on the floor ind deliberately nibbed It bade and forth under the sole of her shoe, then crumpled it into a ball. When she finally smoothed it out on her knee the lately sanded pale writing was almost illegible; the pink slip looked as if it had been in the mud; only the printed matter mid amount were readable. Then she folded the pawn ticket away in her purse—and waited. “When Bob Denver bad been borne a couple of days the wife of his bosom sprung her little trap. At breakfast on the third morning she remarked casually: / “ 'By the way, dear, here’s something | picked up. Do you suppose It’s of any value?” This very innocently, as she passed the pink slip across the table. “ ‘Pawn ticket, eh? Been in the dirt, I should say. Twenty-five dollars? — um—um —name and article —m-m — can’t make it out —what do you want me to do with it?’ “Well—you know —Bob —I thought perhaps you’d call at the place, and if the—“whatever it is—the ticket calls for is of any value you might—er—redeem It for me—people sometimes pledge really choice things for ridiculously small sums, so I’ve heard.’ “ ‘All right,' said the unsuspicious Bob, consulting his watch, ‘l’ll stop off on my way downtown. But don’t get all worked up over it, you know. Maybe the thing’s no good anyhow.’ “‘Why, how absurd!’ exclaimed* Madge, her eyes dancing and her cheeks exquisitely aflame. Yet her parting words were: "‘Don’t forglet, will you?' Nor did

he. All day long she watched for the half-expected messenger boy bearing a package. “ ‘Bpt when Mr. Bob arrived home that night Mrs. Bob received a horrid shock. In place of the bundle she fully expected to see her liege lord entered empty handed. It was her cue to seem unconcerned, but she was all afire with curiosity and suspense. At length she could contain herself no longer. “ ‘Did you— ’ she began, when Bob broke in nonchalantly with: “ ‘Oh, yes, just as I expected—a mere trifle —Just an ordinary halfcarat ring, pretty decent stone, worth about 160,’ and with these words he tossed a small solitaire diamond into her lap. “Too astonished to speak, Madge bent over It to conceal the real tears of mortification which clouded her pretty eyes. Of course there was some dreadful mistake, but what could she do? Once or twice, before Bob’s return. she had thought of telling the truth; now that was out of the question. She had burned her bridges. By means of her pretty ruse she had fully expected her own husband wopld redeem the pledge and in & vicarious way present her with the fur?; that would have salved her femininely meticulous conscience. “Pleading a headache she went to her room, and cried herself to sleep. All next day and the next she puxxled and fretted. She was upon the point of herself visiting the pawnshop and ■hdeavoring to fathom the mistake or the mystery, but remembered that she hsd forgotten the number of the fateful ticket. So her hands were tied. Calling philosophy to her aid, Madge had about derided to grin and bear her loss in silence when something quite unexpected happened. “Bob invited his wife downtown one day to lunch with him at the Savarin. So she donned her best and prettiest costume and the hateful old stole which she had thought of presenting to the washwoman, bitterly regretting the handsome sables.

"Taking * seat fa the outer office, occupied by clerks and bookkeepers, she prepared to watt, the office-boy saying that Mr. Denver was engaged, but would be tree in a minute. From the private office die could hear his voice talking to a client. ' “While Madge waited, the outer door suddenly opened, and there appeared the tall and willowy form of Miss Kate Rodgers, the firm’s private stenographer, returning'from her noonday meal. f “Languidly, with studied grace and an air of queenly composure, she passed in front of her employer’s wife, saying condescendingly: ‘“Oh, good afternoon. Mis’ Denver! You been waitin’ long?’ "The girl moved slowly to her desk, turning and posing leisurely, peeling off her long gloves, then went to a wall mirror and patted her hair before removing hat and wraps, all of which was performed with the deliberate intention of ‘showing off*, before her employer’s wife. “Fascinated, like a bird under the malefic gaze of a rattlesnake, Madge watched every movement, too amazed to make reply to Miss Rodgers’ polite remark. “For there, flaunted before her very eyes and on the back of this ‘hussy,’ as she mentally called her, was Madge’s own identical thousand-dollar set of babies! “When Denver entered the outer office expecting to meet his wife, the bird was flown. Madge, smarting with indignation, mortification, and trust betrayed, had betaken herself outdoors ■ to busy, bustling Broadway, where amid the crowd and behind her drawn veil the bitter tears of chagrin could flow unf>erceived. For hours, it seemed, she walked. Her first thought

was that she would leave her recreant husband —for such she deemed him in those first bitter moments. It was a clear case of circumstantial evidence. How else than through his unfaith could those furs —her furs —be masquerading on the shoulders of another woman? Bob had been guilty of the modern unpardonable sin. So that was how she called on me at Bullivants. “She went home, there to await his arrival as I had advised her. Promptly on the minute she heard his hey in the latch. There was no cheerful evening meal ready, and Madge sat upright in stony silence in the tiny paflor like Patience on a monument and a very pretty Nemesis combined. Bob bustled in, breezy and apparently innocent of guile. “ ‘Well,’ he began, ‘why didn’t you wait for me?’ “‘Wait for you!’ Madge retorted threateningly. ‘Much you cared, with that hussy wearing my furs!’ “She had intended to be diplomatic ■as I suggested, but her feelings were too insistent. " 'What are you talking about?* inquired Bob, sparring for time. “‘Oh, you needn’t try to fool me!’ was the bitter reply. ‘l've got two eyes in my head, and I want to know— * “ 'Weil, I want to know what you mean by *my furs”r said Bob, carrying the war into Africa, also according to directions from Bullivants. ‘I never gave you any furs—not but what I’d have liked to fit you out How did you get ’em —that Is, if they’re really your furs? They cost at least a thousand. I’m told, and how did you know what the ticket called for? Tou never let on to me.’ ■ i “This was a counterblast Mistress Madge had ‘ not reckoned upon, but womanlike, she would not forego her fancied advantage. Not yet was she ready to ’fess up. " ‘I want you to tell me the truth. Robert,’ she said severely. “ ‘All right—here goes,’ was the cheerfully frank response. “My part’s soon told. I called at that Sixth ave-

, T, , ■ ' ■’ V”’, " . 1 ' "’Vi. . nue place, as I promised I would, aai redeemed the pledge. When I saw what the old Hebrew handed out I was stumped—anyone could see that $25 was not a twentieth part at their real value. Carried ’em down to the office, of course, and during the day showed ’em to Buckley. He offered me five hundred for the lot, ‘no questions asked.’ I knew they’d me— well, not exactly too handsome for you, because nothing could be that, yott know, but —well, er—you see, thousand-dol-lar sets of furs don’t exactly go with this kind of a ranch’ —waving his hand at their modest surroundings—‘and a junior partner’s income. So, supposing you weren’t wise as te what the ticket really called for, and Buckley’S five hundred looking pretty good to me, I took him up. Here’s the money, less the twenty-five and what I paid for the ring,’ flinging a roll of bills into Madge’s lap. I bought the ring so that you wouldn’t be disappointed at ndt getting anything else out of your old ticket. Of course Buckley may have given the duds to Miss Rodgers; as to that I couldn’t say; I never notice what she wears anyway —she isn’t my private stenographer—and how was I to know that you had any interest in ’em, or would recognize ’em? That’s the whole truth, cross my heart./ Now it’s your turn, sweetheart. Let’s have your end of the -yarn.’ “While Madge listened to this simple and entirely reasonable explanation she passedi through a whole gamut of emotions, from anger to happy relief at finding that Bob had really been guilty of nothing worse than a peccadillo. Indeed, his frank avowal made her own task more difficult, yet how else than by an equally frank

confession, remembering my advice, could she clear up the mystery of her darling set of sables? It must be a Roland for an Oliver. “So, haltingly, tearfully, and with many self-accusations, Madge related the whole story of her ride with Atchison and its sequel. Toward its close Bob slipped into a seat by her side on the little tete-a-tete, and when She ended her half-shamefaced story she was surprised to find that h- -sband whom she h&d so unjustly cted, was holding her hand and .rig her cheek while her head rested in Its accustomed place on his shoulder. “ ‘Gad,’ said Bob when she had ended with qn earnest, ‘I never meant to deceive you, dear,* and he had kissed away the self-accusing tears. ‘Why the dickens didn’t you tell me the truth? I’d have understood. Why, little woman. I’d trust you and Atchison with life and honor itself!’ “ 'Would ySu really ?* whispered Madge, snuggling up a bit closer. * “ ‘Surest thing you know, honey,* was the reassuring answer. ‘And, by the holy poker. I’ll tell you what I’ll do: Buckley gets his money back tomorrow and you get your furs!’ " ‘Oh, but Robert dear, I couldn’t wear them after —’ “ 'H’m, so you couldn’t,’ said Bpb;‘hadn’t thought of that. Here’s what we’ll do, then: Well take this money. I’ll put as much more to It —made a lucky turn in the market yesterday—and get you another set just as good. I’ll make It right with Dave, How’s that, sweetheart?* “ ’That’ was eminently satisfactory all around, and the reunited committee of the whole, seeing that no dinner had been cooked, decided by a unanimous vote that nothing short of a late supper at Martin’s, with the concomitants of music, lights, and good-fel-lowship, could do complete justioe to the happy occasion.”