Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 104, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 April 1912 — The Special Agent. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Special Agent.

vwg amMmm& whiliL oyr'W.i,By. Robert Naughton

By ROBERT NAUGHTON

ishe Mystery of iho "Paper JVapKjns - - ■ - -

BRODERICK was in a worried and ill-tempered frame of mind. He Was stalking up and down, picking up magazines from the table J of the club library and trying to read them only to hurl them back with so mmMai much unnecessary noise that I said to him: “See here, Brod, several of your humble fellow-members are trying to read. What is wrong with you? What has upset you? If you won’t tell me, at least stop your rumpus.” He turned on me sharply. “It is the sight of you or rather the remembrance of what you stand for that keeps me from forgetting what is on my mind. Hang itl I may as well tell you.” A dozen other men about pricked up their ears. "You and your partner Rand are professional investigators of the problems and puzzles of this troubled human life. He is the cleverest man alive and you—well, you know how to look wise. I am tormented by a desire to tell you, or somebody who can think it out, a perfectly foolish, entirely absurd set of circumstances which has come under my notice. They amount. to nothing at all and yet they are arousing my curiosity.” The whole room was listening. “Curiosity is the broom of the mind. An unexplained fact passed over is the beginning of mental untidiness,” said Lawrence Rand’s quiet, distinct voice from the doorway behind us. “Go on, Broderick, perhaps the trivial Will lead to the important." “Well, I will, on one condition. You two are not in this business for the entertainment you derive from it and I suppose you know that I am n6t likely to embarrass myself when I ask you to undertake this case on a generous retainer and pursue it to a finish at my cost.” "Very well," said Rand. The listening, members, seeing badinage turning into business, turned away and several were about'to leave the room. “No, no. Don’t go, you fellows. I want everybody to hear this, only don’t laugh at me. Last night Just before six o’clock I went into Langstadter's stationery store on Sixth avenue just south of Herald Square and asked for a dozen paper nap king. I wanted just that of paper on which to lay some damp specimens to dry, and it occurred to me that paper napkins were quite what I wanted. A pretty little black-eyed woman be- • hind the counter spoke up when I stated my requirements. - "T am sorry,’ she said, *but we have. Just sold every one we had.' “‘Nonsense, there are nine gross dovfn in that third drawer,’ said a man behind the counter. “‘No, they are all gone,’ corrected the woman; ‘even the broken lots. A young man came in here in a rush just before lunch today and asked for all the paper napkins I had. He got fourteen hundred and ten.’ “*lf you will wait just a minute, sir,’ said the.man —he may have been the proprietor of the place, judging from his manner—‘l will send across the street and get some.’ He was gone an unmercifully long time and at last arrived on the run, out of breath, clutching the two-dol-lar bill he had taken to pay for his purchase. . " *Dey ain’t none in no place around. I been clean over to Ate Av’noo. Dey says some guys bought ’em all out today.’ “We all laughed and I walked out, but it suddenly struck me as extremely queer that any man who really wanted a large quantity of paper nap kins should not telephone a wholesale house. He would have saved time, money and trouble. There was no excuse such as the wholesale stores being closed, for it was Tuesday in the middle of the day that he was buying and everything was wide open in all New York. On my way home I passed two places that might sell paper napkins and I went in. Both were sold out Both had sold to a handsome young man. The last place was on Broadway close to Fifty-seventh street more than a mile from Langs tad ter ’s. Now, Lawrence Rand, Prince of Fryers—tell me what that fellow wanted with all those broken lots of paper napkins!*^ There was a little nervous laughter among the assembled men, but it was plain to me that the simple problem had sunk deep into their minds. It adds nothing to the main thread of this story to say that inside of an bonr every man in the club had heard the premises and that the most interesting evening we have ever had en- ••-’ • * f

sued. Imagine one hundred men cudgelling their brains for probable explanations of this odd but most trivial occurrence. I mention it merely to show how many of ns are much more curious than we will admit. Next morning, at Rand’s suggestion I telephoned the jobbing house downtown and Boon found that the few that handled paper napkins had received no unusual orders; in fact, no orders, from dealers or Individuals not known to them. In a word, before we left the house, we were sure that our mysterious young buyer of paper napkins had confined his efforts to the retail field. >. We went first to Langstadter’s and then the neighboring stores. This was Wednesday morning the eighteenth of May, and by Thursday evening, when we sat down to dinner at the club, the field had been swept clean and the facts before us were these: The buyer of the napkins was a handsome fellow of about thirty years, dressed in a dark sack suit with a pin stripe, a black derby and patent leather button-shoes. His eyebrows were black and heavy. The left upper incisor was of gold and there was a white triangular scar on one ear-top. His ears were the dark red of a healthy vigorous man of bis type. This description was carefully pieced out of more than one hundred versions of his appearance. We soon found that he had bought out the paper napkin stock of every store in a circle the approximate center of which was about Madison Square when we checked it off on the map. The total of his purchases was about one hundred thousand napkins. In each case he had carried away the packets hknself or when they were very large had called for them later in the day and piled them in a cab. He had done that at a store on Fourteenth street add also at one in Thir-ty-fourth street where they had a large stock. His cheerful, nonchalant manners were those of a westerner and nothing about him suggested the lunatic or crank. His funds were mostly in fresh twenty and flfty-dollar bills. That was all that we could rake or scrape and Rand went carefully over every detail with Broderick, Hargreaves and every club-member wbo could get within hearing distance that night. “But,” said Bipderick, “can’t you give us a guess as to what he wanted with a hundred thousand paper napkins, purchased at the retail stores, which he could have bought at a ridiculously lower cost wholesale? Isn't there anything on which to hang a conjecture?” -•-

had been unable to get his trunks and had left Wednesday night There were no telephone calls or messenger calls on his bill and he received no mail that they could recall. That was all the office could tell. It is only by chanoe that I have anything to add to this story. Chance? No, only by reason of Rand’s wonderful sense of perception. Three weeks had gone by without one new fact being adduced. Tom Rahway and I kept watch on the New York stores, wholesale and retail, by occasional telephoning, to seC if the napkin-buying should be resumed, but it never was. The part the napkins had played in some big game was finished. Rand, Tom Rahway and I were leaving the Van Norden Building on Fifth avenue on the twentieth of June, when just as we reached the curb a big red touring-car came swinging around the comer out of the side street into the avenue. The only occupant of the car was the driver, well shielded in motor rig. He shot by us within four feet of our faces. Rand clutched my arm. - “Quick, Dunk! There's our man ! ” The only identifying thing Rand 'could have Been was the tell-tale ear, T asked no questions, for I knew that was the point. In front of the bank stood a' vacant Mercedes, which I recognized as belonging to a friend of ours. Rand caught sight of it as he Whirled about seeking means to follow. Without a word he sprang for it and was already opening up as Tom Rahway and I clambered into the rear seat. We lost time by bein'g under the necessity of turning around and, as we headed up the avenpe, we could Just make out the flying car in the scattered traffic of the mid-forenoon, perhaps seven blocks away. The steady ' subdued hum of the splendi.dly balanced and groomed machine under us was reassuring, and with Rand’s adroit steering and van-tage-taking, we lost no further time, so that while not running at a speed to attract undue attention from the police, we were nevertheless gaining on the other car. About Ninetieth street we were hut two blocks behind. At One Hundred and Ninth

“Is being made co-respondent, though innocent, in a stage divorce suit, a Bmall matter for the son of a governor who may be president if his family behaves? Oh, well, toss me your subpoena.” “I have no subpoena," answered Rand. ii- “ Well, I'll be— Say, what do yon want with me?” ‘1 want first to inquire If you are the Mr. William Walling wbo occupied suite 501 at the Waldorf for three days three weeks ago?” "I am Bob Macready, son of Governor Bob Macready, but I was at the Waldorf as Mr. Walling. Yes." “Well, Mr. Macready, I am a paid investigator, and if you’ll be so good I want you to tell me for a curious client what you wanted with all those paper napkins.” ~L Macready stared a second, then burst into a wild fit of laughter. - “Great snakes! is that what you have been hounding me for? By George, that is rich! Say, the whole thing is too funny to tell. I will give you a quick glance at it. You see, I was on my way to New York When I met at lunch on. the train between Buffalo and New York a tall, splendid, gray-eyed young woman dressed in black, perhaps you would say mourning. We began with weather talk and I found out she was Russian. Before we left the dining-car she said to me suddenly: ‘“You are a stranger, but you are honest and good or else I do not know men. I have a task on which my whole fortune and future depend. It must he done for me at once. I need a purchasing agent Will you enter my employ at a liberal salary?” “You mayn’t believe it when I tell you, but she must have had fifty thousand dollars in big bills in her purse, and she gave me five thousand as soon as I said I would work for her. What do you think of that? She laid the plans and worked ont her scheme. When we arrived, she got suit 503 at the Waldorf, and I registered as ‘Walling’ on her orders and got suite 501. She went on the books as ‘Mrs. Elinor Kent, London.’ Before going np she bade me goodnight

"Frankly.old man, I am more puzzled than I was In the beginning, for I have satisfied myself that out of my two hundred barely possible explanations not one fits the facts. I have not the faintest glimmer of light on the real ‘why.'" There was a long pause, then some one ventured a remark and soon the whole place was a-hum with the talk of the bewildered club-members. "Mr. Rand, Just a moment," said Reynolds, coming up to us about an hour later. “This is Dr. Reiter, an eye and ear specialist, who dined with me tonight. He and I agree that on last Tuesday evening about seven o’clock we saw a young man in evening dress in the Waldorf-Astoria who answers your description, particularly the white scar on the red ear. Dr. -Reiter noticed it, being Interested in such things, and mentioned it to me." “Come on, Dunk, I think* we have hit the trail," cried Rand. "Why so?" • - . 4 “Well, that little scar observed so definitely and carefully by a specialist like Dr. Reiter is a clincher on identity. He, doubtless, was living at the Waldorf. Let us go and see." In half an hour we knew from a dozen porters and clerks that there Was such a guest. He had not been there long. None knew his name or room number, but all had seen him. "But, see here,” said Rand to the head bell-boy, when we were about at the end of our String, “to what room in this hotel did several hundred packages go on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday?" . .. "Suite 501, sir," the man answered instantly. "How do you know?" "There was more small square stuff went into that place them days than I ever see before in any Job I ever been in. Everybody knows it. Just ask the floor staff up there." W 7 .-pjj Rand now stated his foil case te the management In two minutes we knew that Suite 501 had harbored "Mr. William Walling, Chicago," who had arrived Sunday night, with a suit-case only. He had baggage checks but

street we were almost alongside. Rand drew as close as he dared and hailed the solitary motorist in a friendly tone. Mr. William Walling, if such he was, turned quickly, gave us one frightened look and then threw on. speed with a leap. Away he went around into One Hundred and Tenth Btreet, cutting across our nose, and before we could possibly meet his move in kind be was two blocks away. He swung into Manhattan avenue and still widened the gap. In a few minutes we saw him-top the rise before Dnrando’s old place and hustle across the Harlem river. . Our gain was relentless in the open and foe man In front kne# it. He waited till I could have tossed a pebble from our car Into his and then swung into the first side road. It happened to be foe one to Scarsdale BUtkm and he had not gone forty revolutions of his drivers before the killing grade of the hill began to tell and in a moment we were almost alongside. , /Hr" “Ah, founder, you’ve got me!" Iw called back, throwing out the gear. “Sorry to chase you away up here og a small matter, my dear Bir,” answered Rand

“ ‘Now, Mr. Walling, begin tomorrow morning and collect all foe paper napkins yon can find in ail the stores about here. Get them to your apartment. Pass them across the hall to me this evening and continue that until I have enough.’ “I bought all day Monday and all day Tuesday and had almost swept the uptown field by Wednesday afternoon. When I passed them in she said: “ 'Remain in your room after dinner and expect me.’ “She did not come, but sent me a note instead. This is it: ... “ 'You have done your work welL Your pay does not satisfy my entire indebtedness to you. Auf wiedersehen.’ '“I walked the floor two boors, then packed up and got out, and that is all I know.” Rand started to speak hot Changed his mind and backed thfear. p In less than an hoar we drew up in front of the big hotel that had harbored our mystery. ...ppP Mrs. Elinore Kent was still a guest She was to sail in foe morning by the Hamburg-American line. Yes, she would see foe manager and bis friends. It waa rather an awkward situation. A most attractive young thing she

was, surrounded by a perfect maelstrom of feminine trifles laid out to go in her trunks. i She was very angry when Rand broached the subject of our search, but his wonderful smile gradually won her over. "Well, If you must know a little, I will tell you. lam the only child of a Russian prince. My father and mother both died when I Was a child and left me to the care of an nncle who has been always with the army in Siberia. I have come and gone about Europe and America as I saw fit. Before my father died he led me to a lohg corridor lined with bewildering mosaics in the palace and pointed to one tiny pattern where, if I touched a certain stone, a little door opened. Within was a small chamber in which was a vast fortune. He died and I remembered the little design. I pictured it every night and morning in my mind while In a convent in France. I was here in New York two years ago and one day in the window of a little store I saw a paper napkin with the exact design in purple in the corner. When I went home again I was very sick. I had told my secret when I raved and now I was spied on by my uncle’s servants. If they had known the mosaic design they would have, killed me. I have been spied upon ever since and in my illness I forgot the details of the design. It was a bold idea' to hire this young man to buy me all the designs from the little stores in hope of finding it, but I triumphed. Here—here—next to my heart is one crumppled old napkin with my secret on it, and I am going back.”

THE BUYER WAS A HANDSOME FELLOW, OF ABOUT THIRTY.