Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 153, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 June 1912 — Page 3

The Seven Emeralds

By MAX PEMBERTON

The man stood upon the weir-bridge watching me, a conspicuous man with strange clothes for riverwork upon him, and a haunting activity which drove him from the lock to the inn, and again from the inn to the lock with a crazy restlessness which was ' maddening. I had been for some hours whipping the mill-stream, which lies over against the lockhouse at Pangbourne; but meeting with no success amongst the chub, which on this tingly indifferent even to the succulent frog, I had punted. to the bushes in the open river; and there lit my pipe and fell to speculation upon him who favored me with so close an attention. I have said that he was a conspicuous man, and to this I owed it that I had seen him. He wore the straw hat of Jesus college, Cambridge, and a velvet coat which shone brown and greasy in the falling sunlight; but his legs'were encased tn salmonpink riding breeches, and be had brown boots reaching to his knees. I sat there, in turn wondering if he were honest or a rogue, an adventurer or an idler, a river-man or a fop from Piccadilly. And as the problem Was beyond me, I left it at last Land taking .. W niy punt-pole I gave three or four vigorous thrusts which sent me immediately to the landing-stage of the Swan Inn, and thence to my room. I could hear by no means inharmonious music floating out over the.water from a girl’s guitar; there were several launches waiting for the lock-gates; and I recall well the face of a very remarkable woman, who presently came to the landing-stage In a gig, the cushions of which were of an aggressive yellow, but one which was a striking contrast to her black hair and ivory-white skin. Quite apart, however, from her Indisputable beauty. I had reason to watch this conspicuous oarswoman, for no sooner had she z come'to the landing-stage than the man in the velvet coat went to her assistance, and taking a number of bags and baskets from the boat, accompanied her up the village high street, and so carried her from my view. Here then, thought I, is the end of my mystery. The man had been waiting for the return of his wife, when I, with preposterous conceit, plumed myself that he had been looking to speak with me. p One dines up river, as most people know, in semi-public state, loafers, loiterers, fruit-sellers, boatmen—all these congregate near the open win- ■> dow, and discuss verbally the dishes which the diner discusses more substantially. Custom so stales us that this publicity in no way interferes with our pleasure. I forgot the ridiculous romance of the velvet-coated man, and even his existence, until of a sudden he presented himself, no longer watching me upon the bridge, but standing at the casement, and asking to be admitted. ‘Tm most horribly sorry,” said he, “to intrude upon you at your dinner, but my train leaves for town in ten minutes, and I particulary want your opinion upon something which they tell me you know more about than any man in England.” "By-all means,” said I. “But your estimate of my opinion is hopelessly flattering; it concerns jewels, I suppose?" * “Exactly,” said he; ‘and I shall be under very large obligations to you if you will tell me whether two emeralds I have in my pocket are of any value, and if so, where would be the best place to dispose of them?” He took a little paper box from his coat, and laid it near to my plate. I saw that it was a box which had contained tabloids of nitro-glycerine (a drug prescribed for disease of the heart); and that it had been sold by a chemist of the name of Benjamin Wain, whose shop was in the High street at Reading. These things I observed with my intuitive habit of grasping detail, learnt in long contention with rogues; and then forgot them as the man opened a screw of tissue paper, and I beheld two of the finest emeralds I have seen during my career. “Well," said he, after a pause, “do you find much the matter with them?” “I should want my glass ■to see,” said I with caution; “the light is failing, and my eyes are not as good as they were.” ’ “You mean a magnifying glass, I suppose?’’ said he, producing a lens from his pocket “Well, I happen to have one.” Why ft was I cannot tell you, but this trifling circumstances I marked down in my mind as my first sound cause of suspicion against him. “They are fine stuff,” said I; “do you happen to know where they come from?” ... L. ’ '■ “I believe they come from Salzburg,” he stammered; “at least I have heard so” ' ■'V.. “That could not possibly be,” said I; “tiie worst emerald* we have are the best product of that mine. I fancy they are from Venezuela.” “Ah, that’s the place,” said he, “I remember it now: but I’ve a wretched ior

(Copyright, by W. Gb GhapmanJ

While he said this the train to London steamed out of the railway station, which is not a stone’s throw from the inn, and he, forgetful of his tale to me, sat watching it unconcernedly. I had discovered him in a second lie, and I waited to entrap him to a third with the practised pleasure of a cross-examiner. "Do you sell these stones for yourself or as an agent?" I asked, assuming some authority as I felt surer of -him. His hesitation in answering was merely momentary, but ft was enough for my purpose. “For myself,” said he; and then with clumsy maladroitness he added, “They were left to me by my father, and I have never had the heart to offer them to any One, I’ll tell you what, though; if you’ll gfve me a thousand pounds for the pair, you shall keep them.” “That’s a long price,” said I; “and if you don’t mind the suggestion, my dinner’s getting cold.’ I had. spoken thus with the design of putting him off ; but he was-undis-guisedly an ill-bred man, and I saw that I could have bought the emeralds from him for five hundred pounds. “Comfe, now,” he cried, “you don’t want to be hard upon me; give me a check for five hundred and send the balance to Brighton in a week if you find them as good as you think. That’s a fair offer, isn’t it?” “The offer is fair enough,” said I; “but you forget that I did not come here to buy emeralds. lam in Pangbourne to catch chub, as you saw this afternoon.” , “I’m afraid I can’t agree to that,” he replied with a laugh; "I did not see you catch chub this afternoon —I saw jrou miss three,” “The bait is poor,” I said meaningly; “fish are as canny as men, and aon’t take pretty things if they think there’s a hook in them.” This I gave him with such a stare that he rose up suddenly from his chair, and, having made a bungling parcel of his jewels, went off by himself. He had to pass my window as he left the inn, and as he crossed the road I called after him, saying—- “ You’ll be losing your train to London.” “Be d d to that!” said he; and with such a salute he turned the angle of the road, and I lost sight of him. But I thought much of his emeralds through the night, both in my walk across the old wooden bridge to Whitchurch, when the river lay dark and gloomy with the sough of the breeze in the reeds and sedge-grass; and again as I lay in the old wooden “bestbed” of the inn. On the next day, quite early in the morning, I set out in a dogcart for Reading, having a -rendezvous with Barisbroke at the Kennet’s mouth, whence we were to start for a day’s sport upon that fish-breeding river. My drive took me by the old Bathroad, turning to the left midway up the village street; but I had not gone very far upon the Reading road before I saw the handsome wopjan—the wife, as I assumed, of the, velvetcoated man —now dressed with exceeding poorness, and carrying a heavy bag towards the biscuit town. It occurred to me, as I drove on, that the man, who had been with her on the previous day, had really left by the last train for London; but when I came into Reading, and was about to cross the High street, to reach Earleigh, I saw the name Benjamin Wain superscribed above a little chemist's shop, and I stopped at once. I know that a country tradesman will gossip like a fishwife; and I asked the man for some preparation which he could not possibly find in the pharmacopoeia, and so began to feel my ground. “You’re well ahead of the times here,” said I, looking at his show-, case, which was woefully destitute of drugs. “I shouldn’t have thought that you’d be asked for tabloids in a place like Reading.” “Oh, but we are,” said he, readily; “It’s a wonderfully advanced town is Reading—you won’t get much in Regent street which is not here. I’ve lived in Reading all* my life—and seen changes, sir, indeed I have!” -pfTou know most of the people then?” said I, with a purpose. “Ay,” said he, "I’ve born and buried a many, so to speak; seen children grow to men and women, and men and women grow to children—you wouldn’t think it perhaps!” “No,” said I, “you don’t show it; bat your reputation,* if I may say so, goes beyond this place. I was in Pangbourp e yesterday, where a tall, yellow-haired man was speaking of you; who is he, I wonder?” “A tall, yellow-haired man!” he exclaimed, putting his finger in the center of his forehead as if in aid of memory; "I didn’t know there were such in Reading. A tall, yellow—let me see, now ** “You sold him some tabloid of nitro-glycerine; perhaps that win help to hl* identification?” said L t “Ah, now I know you’re wrong,” said he; “there’s only one man within five miles of her* who uses that staff,

and he hasn't got yellow hair—ha, ha, ho hasn’t got any at *IL” “Who ta he?" I asked with growing “Why, bld Jabes Ladd, the' miser, outatYmS Park; he takes that staff for his hekrt, sir. Wonderful weak heart he has, too; but he hasn’t got yellow hair—no, I may say with coaptation that he has no hair at aU.” T had learnt all I needed, for the mere mention of the name Jabez Ladd was sufficient for me. At the man’s yards a whole freshet of idea* seemed to rush to my mind. The yellow-haired man had got his emeralds in a box which must have come from Ladd’s house, since be alone in the neighborhood took tabloids of nitro-glycerine; another, the man’s very shabiness and obvious shuffling pointed very strongly to the conclusion that he should be watched. Of these things was I sure as I mes Barisbroke, a'nd I turned them over in my mind often during the moderate sport of the forenoon. I resolved at least to see the old man; and when I had dined at a ridiculously early hour with Barisbroke, I crossed the river by, the white bridge, and in thirty minutes I was at the gate of Yore Hall. I rang the great bell thrice, and birds fled from the eaves at the clatter, and the rabbits that had sported by the thicket disappeared in the warren. Some minutes after the third ring, and when I was preparing to drive off and leave Jabez Ladd to his own affairs, the stable door opened, and a girl came out, dressed, it seemed to me, curiously in a smart white frock; but with untidy hair, though much of it; and an exceedingly pretty face, which had been the prettier for a little scouring. The creature had great dark eyes like a grisette of Bordeaux; and when she saw me, stood swaying upon her feet, and laughing as she bit at her apron-strings, as though my advent wap an exceedingly humorous thing; Then she said, — “Is It Mr. Ladd you’re wanting?" I told fier that it was. “You’ll not be a county man?” she asked. / “I’m from London,” said t, “and my name Is Bernard Sutton. Tell Mr. Ladd that I’ll, not keep him five minutes.” “There’s no need,” said she, simper-, Ing again; “he’s been a-bed since the milk.” "In bed!” cried I amazed. “Yes,” said she, “it’s over late for company; but if ye’ll write something I’li x run up with it; the housekeeper’s away sick.” , She seemed to think that all this was a good joke, and wondered, I doubt not, that I did not simper at her again. I was on the very, point of whipping up the nag, and leaving such a curious household, when one of the landing windows went up with a creak, and Ladd himself, with a muffler round his throat, was visible. "What d’ye want in my grounds?" he roared. “Here, you hussy, what are ye chattering there for? —thought I was asleep did ye—ha!” “Good evening, Mr. Ladd,” said I quietly; “I’m sorry, but I appear to have disturbed ydu. I’ve a word for your ear if you’ll come down.” "Hullo,” cried he, in his cracked and piercing voice; “why it’s you, is it? egad, I thought you were the butcher! What’s your business?—Tm biding in bed, as you can see.” “I can’t shout,” said. L “and my business is private.” “Won’t it wait?" he snarled. “You haven’t come to sell me anything?” “I don’t sell stuff in the street,” said L "come down and I’ll talk to you; But if you don’t want to hear —Well, go to bed.” His curiosity got the better of him at this point, and he snapped out the words, “I’m coming down,” and then disappeared from the window. But he had no intention of opening the front door, as I found presently when of a sudden he appeared at a casement upon the ground floor, and resumed the conversation. x “You’re not asking after my health,” said he, “but I’ll let you know that I’m eat up with cold; can ye have done with it straight off?" “Yes,” said L leaning over from the dog-cart to spare my voice. “Do you know a tall man with yellow hair who’s got two emeralds to sell?” At these words his face whitened in the sunlight, and -he opened his great mouth to speak, but no sound came. Then quickly he drew a smallbox from his pocket, such as I had seen in the hands of the velvet-coated man, and took a tabloid from it "I’ll be about letting you in,” said he, as he went to shut down the casement. l} ' r • . ... But I said, "I think not there’s a drive of five miles to Whitchurch before me, and this horse trips.” “For the love of God,” cried he, suddenly putting off all self-restraint “don’t go till I’ve heard you—man, my life may depend upon it!” "How’s that?” said L “Tm going to tell you,” said he; “and if yell stay we’ll crack a bottle of port together.” He whetted my curiosity now, and presently I heard him nagging at the pretty girl who had first greeted me. After that he threw the stable door wide open, and dressed only, as I could see, in a loose pressing-gown and a pair of carpet slippen, he led the horse to a stall that had the half of a roof; crying to the maid to get her down to the house of a man be named, there to beg a feed of corn and the loan of a boy. But while he was doing it, he shivered incessantly, and seemed eaten up with fear. “You appear to think that I’m gating up with you,” said L when I beard his orders; “there’s no need to look after the nag—l shan’t be bm ten minutes," ten minutes!” hs exclaimed.

■tfU with quavering voice. "Oh, but you will—when you’ve beard my talk. Would you see me murdered?" ’ I did not answer, being in the main amused at his attempt* to get the horse out of the trap, and particularly to unbuckle the very stiff belly-band. The girl had gone tripping off with herself to the village as I thought; but though at that time ! had no Intention of staying beyond an hour with him, I unshafted the animal myself, and tethered the beast to the rickety manger, throwing my own rug across his loins; then I followed Ladd through a black and smoke-washed kitchen to a. dingy apartment near the hall, and, the place being shuttered, he kindled a common paraffin lamp, which might have cost a shilling but would have been dear at two. “I’ll be getting the port,” said he, casting a wistful glance at me hoping, perhaps, that I should decline his invitation to a glass, “you'll not mind refreshment after your drive?” “Thanks; you may be sure I won’t,” said L When Ladd came back, he had a bottle in his’hand. I smiled openly when I saw that it was a pint; but he decanted it with a fine show of generosity, and pushing a glass to me, took up the matter which interested him at once. “Where did ye see my nephew?” he asked, while I sipped the wine with satisfaction; “it’ll have been in London, perhaps?” . “I saw him —if he was your nephew —at Pangbourne last night,” said I; “he had a pretty woman with him, and wanted to sell me two emeralds.” ■s’ “That must have been the wife he married in San Francisco,” cried he, “but she has no sinecure; you didn’t hear that I paid his passage abroad last spring after he’d robbed me of a thousand Well and it was emeralds he wanted to sell you?” “Two of the finest I have ever seen,” said I, “and matching perfectly.” The import of the emeralds had evidently been lost upon him until this time; but now of a sudden he realized that he might be concerned in the business, and his agitation was renewed. “I wonder what emeralds they were?” he asked as if of himself; then turning to me, he exclaimed, “Will you come upstairs with me a minute?”

He did not wait for me to answer, but led the way up bar* stone steps to a landing off which there led two passages; and in a big and not uncomfortable bedroom he showed me three safes, one a little one, which he opened, and took therefrom a case containing seven emeralds of a size aqd quality apparently similar to the two I had seen at Pangbourne. But when he gave them to me to examine I saw at once that five of them were genuine and two were false. “Well,” said he, after I had looked at them long and closely, “how do you like them?” “I like, them enough,” said I; “at least, I like five of them, but the other two are glass!” At this he cried, “Oh, my God!” and clutched the stones from me with the trembling Jfingers of a madman. When he had Seen them for himself—being judge enough to follow me in my conclusions —he began to roar out oaths and complaints most pitifully, cursing his nephew as I have never heard a man cursed before or since. By and by he got sufficient reason to tell me that he had the administrar tion of some of his nephew’s property, and that in his work he had first fallen foul of a man, headstrong, vindictive, by no means honest, and, in some moods, dangerous. Yet, even knowing his relative’s character and the threats he had urged against him, he could not tell how the safe was broken, or by what means the emeralds had gone. He wa* not 'even aware that his nephew was in England; and I had been the first to bring intelligence of his coming. I asked him, naturally, if these two stones represented the whole of his loss, and at that he fell off again to his raving, but took two keys of the larger safes from a secret drawer in the smaller as I could see; and began to pour upon the faded bed-cover a wealth of treasure which might have bought a city. In the midst of this strange scene, and while We were both held spellbound ■by the wondrous vision of wealth; a sudden exclamation drew the miser from his employment It came from the girl who had been sent to the village, she now standing in the doorway of the bedroom, and crying, “Oh, good Lord!” as she saw the glitter of the gems. But Ladd turned* upon her at the words, and grasped her by the wrists, crying out a* he had cried when first he knew that he was robbed. “You hussy," he hissed, bending her by the arm* backward almost to the floor; “what do you watch me fort What do you mean by coming here? Where are the emerald* you have stolen? Tell me, wench'; do yop hear? Tell me, or I shall hurt yon!” He held her in so firm a grasp that I feared she would suffocate, ahd went to pull him off; at which action he turned to cry put against me; but the anger had played upon him so that he fainted suddenly all acres* the bed, and amongst the jewel*. The girl, whom he had forced upon the floor, now rose Impudently, and said.— "Did yC'ever see the like of him? —but ni make him pay tor it! Oh, yon needn’t look, he’s that way often. He’ll come to in a minute; but he won't find me in the house tomorrow —wages of to wages.” “Do what you Hk*,“ I cried to bar angrily, “but don’t chatter. Have you got any brandy in the home?” “Brandy! and for him!" said she, aiTTOgfrig her dree* which he had tor*. “1* it me that should b* ramtag

for ft? Not If I know ft; brandy, I like that!” “Then leave the room,” I exclaimed imperatively; and with that she went off, banging the door behind her, and J was alone with the man and hi* jewels. I think It was the strangest situation I have ever known. Some thousands of pounds’ worth of gems lay scattered upon the coverlet, upon the sheets, and even upon the carpet. Ladd himself lay like the figure upon a tomb, white and motionless; there was only the light of a common paraffin lamp; and three parts of the room lay in darkness. My first thought was for the man’s life, and remembering that I had a flask in my pocket, I forced brandy between his clenched teeth, and laid him flat upon his back. In a few moments there was a perceptible, though very quick beat of his pulse, and after that, when he had taken more of the spirit, he opened his eyes, and endeavored to raise himself; but I forbade him roughly, and gathering up his gems I bundled them in the greater safe, and turned the key upon them. He however, watched me with glazing eyes, scarce being able, for lack of strength, to utter a word; but he motioned for mertoglve him the key, and this he placed under the pillow of his bed, and fell presently into a gentle sleep, which was of good omen. I should mention that it was now full dark outside, and, as I adjudged, about the hour of ten. I had got the man’s jewels into his safe for him, and he was sleeping; but where the bewitching little hussy was I did not know; or what was the value of the old man’s fears about his nephew. It was clear to me, however, that he had been robbed, probably by the immediate agency of the girl who acted as his servant; and it wa* equally obvious that I had no alternative but to stay by him, even if prospect of probable business in the future had' not moved me to do so. An inspection of his room by the flickering light of the lamp disclosed to i small dressing-room leading from it, this containing a sofa ;and when I had quite assured myself that my patient, as I chose to regard him, slept and that his pulse was no longer intermittent nor faint, I took my boots off and lay down upon the hard horsehair antiquity which was to serve me for a bed. Strange to say, in half an hour I fell into a dreamless sleep, for I was heavy with fatigue, and had walked many hours npon the Kennett’s bank; but when I awoke, the room was utterly dark,, and the screams of a dying man rang in my ears. In moments of emergency one’s individuality asserts itself in curious actions. I am somewhat stolid, and a poor subject for panics, and I remember on this particular occasion,, that my first act was to draw on my boots with deliberation, and even to turn in the tags carefully before I struck a match, and got a sight of the scene which I remember so well though many months have passed since its happening. When I had light, I found Ladd standing by the door of his safe, which was open, but there was a deep crimson stain upon his shirt, and he no longer had the voice _tb scream. In fact, he was dying then; and presently he fell

prone with a deep gasp, and b knew that he was dead. In the same instant a black shadow, as of a man, passed between me and' the flicker of the light; and as the match went out the door of the chamber swung upon Its hinges, and th* assassin passed from the room. Now, Ladd had scarce fallen before I was in the dark passage, listening with great tension of the ear for a sound of the hiding man’s footstep. But the place wa* a* still as the grave; and then there came upon me the horrid thought that the fellow lurked with me about the toom’s door, and presently would serve me as he had served the other. Cold with fear at the possibility, I struck a match, and advanced along the passage, using half a box of lucifers in the attempt. At the corner I came suddenly upon a cranny; - and a* the light died away, two gleaming eyes shot up glance* to mine, and a man sprang out flashing a blade in the air, but rushing past me, and fleeing like the wind toward* the southern wing—the unfinished one. So swift did he go that I saw nothing of his face, and It seemed scarce a moment before I heard a door open, and another great cry, followed by a splashing of water and utter silence. This second cry took, I think, what little nerve I had left; and while the echo of ft was still in the passages my last match went out The place was now black with unbroken darkness; every step that I took appeared to reach mysterious stairs and to send me staggering; but at last a sudden patch of moonlight from a corner encouraged me to go on, and I reached the spot where the man had disappeared. At that point, a door creaked and banged upon it* hinges, but the white light coming through it saved me from the fate of him who had gone before. It showed me at a glance that the door was built ta side of the unfinished wall of the wing, and that the man, who evidently had mistaken ft for the entrance to the back staircase, which I saw a few feet farther on, had crashed down 50 feet into the moat bdo#, carrying, a* I supposed, hi* plunder in hi* hands. Then I knew the meaning of the gurgling cry and the horrid thud; and terror seemed to strike me to my tery. marrow. How I got mN of the house I do not know to this day. Thriee I mad* a circuit of wtadtag corridors only to find myself again bafors the room where Ladd's body lay ta the circle thrie*Tr**ch*ff

doors which seemed to gfve access W the yard; but led only into gloomy shuttered chamber* where curious shapes of the yellow rays through the dusty crevices. At last, however, I reached the frowsy kitchto breathe the chill night air, and to think what was to be done; whither first to go; to whom to appeal. whine of a voice from the stable seemed to answer me. I entered th* roofless shanty, and there found the dark-eyed girl sitting upon a rotting garden roller, and quivering in every® limb. She too was dressed ready to . accompany the man who then l&yie the moat, I did not doubt; but at th* " first sight of me she started up with blanched face, and clinging to me she cried/—“Take me away, oh, my God, take me away from It!”, and rather incoherently she' muttered that Sh* was innocent/.and protested it in score of phrases. I saw a flush of dawn-light upon her babyish face as she spoke, and it occurred to when I was putting the horse to dog-cart that she was unmistakably pretty, and that her customary occupation was not that of a housemaid. But I only said to her,- — “Keep anything you have to say for the police. I am going to fetch* them.” Ano with that I drove off, and the last I saw of my lady showed her as she sat moaning on the straw* her hair tumbling down her shoulders, and her face burled in her hands. - - - The trial of this woman, and her acquittal by the jury, are well remembered in Caversham; nor is th* mystery of Jabez Ladd’s jewels and their disappearance by any means an infrequent topic for alehouses. What became of the precious stones which Arthur Vernon Ladd, the old imb’i nephew, took from the safe on th* night he murdered his uncle, one man alone knows—and that is myself. Th* people of the town will tell you that the moat was dragged and drained, with no results. I myself saw th* body of the murderer—the velvetcoated man of Pangbourne; but although at least a couple of thousand pounds worth of jewels were missing from the *afe, there was not one of them about him, or to be found upon the of the moat into which he had dropped with th* blood* of Ladd fresh upon his hand*. In> vain the police searched the name was Rachel Peter*, she said—and her boxes. The jewels being undiscoverable,’ 1 ahd Ladd having been murdered to my knowledge by hi* nephew, the girl, Rachel Peters, was, a* I have said, discharged. She returned to the old house for her boxes, and Immediately disappeared from the knowledge of the county. Ten months later I saw her dancing on the stage of an opera house in Florida, and she was wearing five of the fceven emeralds which Ladd . had lost! The spectacle seemed so amazing to me that I sought her out between the acts, and found her a* full of chic and verve as a Parisian soubrette. Nor did-she disguise anything from me, telßtag me everything over a cigarette with a relish and a sparkle which was astounding to see. “Yes,” said she—but I give her story in plain words, for her way of tellingJt is not to be written down— * “I had known Vernon Ladd for year»< I doubt if there was a worse man in Europe; but I was frightened of him, and I entered old Ladd's service at hl* wish to help him to steal th* jewels. We got at the emeralds first, because they were in the small safe; but w* didn't know where the keys of the other safe were, and we put two sham emeralds in the case to keep the old boy quiet while we worked. That|? night you came to the bouse Vernon Ladd was already inside, concealed behind the old man’s bed; and he watched you open the great safe and spread the jewels. The mischief of ft was that Ladd woke up five minute* too soon, and caught the boy by the throat—you know what he got for that, for you saw it and you know how Vernon mistook the door, and went down in a hurry. Weft when you'd gone for the police, I ran round to the back of the house, and what should I see but the bag of jewel* stuck on a ledge just under the land- J ing window. He’d dropped them a* , he fell, and there they were lying so plain that one could have seen them a mile off. I just ran up and reached them with my arm, but when I wa* in the stable again, and thinking hiding them, I heard you coming up the road, and I slipped the bag in the first thing handy—ft was your own fishing creel. "No, you never found them, you? Just because they were up there plain for every one to seet. -i When the judge discharged n»e at .tM£~ court, I went again tp the house tot get my box, never thinking to see th*: stones; but you’d gone axttrwithput the creel, and it was the first thing I touched lying in the straw of tb*i| stable. You may be spre ft didn't lie there long. Fd saved up enough,, money for a passage to the State*, and when I got here f started as an actress, as I was before, and I sold th* things one by one. These emeralds are an that’s left—and if you’re a brick, you'll buy them.” This wa* the story. She was * i clever woman, and having been discharged on the accusation of robbing the dead miser Ladd, could not b* sent to her trial again. Her invitation for m* to buy the emerald* wa* two from the unhappy laty <gf Pangtx)urD€ who WBS m&iTiCKi ▼dm vet-coated Vernon Ladd, and is now it was; altogether * «te* pqtot. We*- 1