Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 214, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 September 1912 — Page 2

The Corrector of Destinies

Being Tales of Randolph Mason as Related by His Private Secretary, Courtland Parks MADAME VERSAY

I w*S suprised onamorning in early (February to find Bishop Simonton’s carriage before Randolph Mason’s house. I have known churchmen to appeal to Mason in desperate straits, perhaps upon a theory that one should try all temporal doors before knocking on the gates of alabaster. But that the esthetic and venerable Bishop of New York should require profane assistance was quite beyond belief. 1 pulled up short by my ancient friend, the crossing policeman. “Scally,” I said, “I believe the ravages of age are beginning to mark me. Gan it be Bishop Simon ton’s carriage I sea yonder?” 1 ■,< _T. 3. . The great Celt Tapped himself gently on the belt plate with his, club. “Sure,” he said, “it’s not the ravages of age that’s doin’ ye any harm this mornin’, Misther Parks. ’Tis his nib’s wagon, all right.” “Some aldermen must be squatting on the Church lands,” I said, “to bring this good man out at a quarter before ten on a winter morning.” “Wist!” replied the Irish king half covering his mouth with his gloved hand; “’tis a woman.” Then he crossed the street to stop a line of drays. The mystery was now beyond conjecture. I walked on slowly to the gate and up the flag-path to the house. Certain airy, nebulous conceptions had, from the pleasantries of earlj Italian letters ahd recent scandalous postersalong the book stalls, presented themselves with piquant explanations. Within the house a second and greater surprise awaited me. Pietro met me at the door saying that Randolph Mason wished instantly to see me. I gave Pietro my coat and hat and went at once to the private office. My state of mental flippancy had little prepared me for the type of woman who arose as I entered. I have not seen fyer like in New York. If the word elegant were not so thumbed, I should write it here as descriptive of her —not In a tinseled or bedizened sense, but as the panther Is elegant, as the red silken hprseS-of a rajah are elegant. High breeding, down an immemorial line, produces such animals, time, through a hundred generations, carving carefully, like a gem engraver. Tall, supple and straight; the eye steady, calm, reserved, fearless, the nose straight and thin; the lips fine, delicate and resolute; the chin up; the black, glossy hair parted in the middle and brushed back. She was gowned in well-fitting black. This woman was perhaps fifty years old. I instantly fitted her into the frame of a casement window along the battery in Charleston, or the white columns of an estate on the James. I bowed as she turned toward me. I think the statue of Hale, outside in the flurry of snow, would also have bowed had it been standing in my shoes, She did not speak to me at all, but waited In dignified silence for Mason to say What was necessary to be said. Mason was standing by his table, tapping it Impatiently with the tips of his long, sensitive fingers. I thought the lines along his mouth were broken a bit, his eyes a trifle warmer. But this was certainly a fancy, for when he spoke it was in his usual cold voice. “Parks,” he said, “you must find a certain variety actress, calling herself Madame Versay. She has in her possession a case of pearls belonging to Miss Caroline Plckney. She will demand ten thousand dollars in cash for the return of these jewels. You will say to her that lyiiss Pickney has finally arranged to pay her this money. That on the tenth day of February at ten o’clock, the vault officer of the Jefferson Trust company, in the city of Richmond, in the presence of Miss Pickney here and you, will deliver to her ten thousand dollars in currency. She must bring with her the case of jewels and hand it over to the vault officer, who, upon the payment of the money, will give it to Miss Pickney. This Madame Versay is said to be under the protection of one Robert Henderson, a police detective of New York. This person may also be present, if Madame Versay wishes him to be. You will arrange for this -purchase with Madame Versay. j You will then accompany Miss Pickney to Richmond and be present with her at the transfer of the money. Miss Pickney will personally attend to the other details of the matter.” ' When Randolph Mason had finished speaking, the woman picked up a long coat from her chair and began to put it on. I helpetl her with the collar ©f !L She thrust htr black-gloved hands in tlgp deep pockets, then she turned to Mason. “These jewels were brought from In? dla by my great-grandfather,” she said, "they were worn by my greatgrandmother at her by ‘my grandmother; by my mother. Their value to ~me Is beyond estimate. Still Ido not wish to violate either the laws of Virginia or those of the United States in order to recover them. Ido not greatly fear the laws of Virginia, it cannot be that my fathers have made laws that would permit a creature like this actress xjf retain my inheritance. Bui I wish to be assured, • Mr. Mason, of the entire ttfetfof *l, PU.,-

By Melville Davisson Post

—Mason’s sac annoyance. “Madame," he said, “a rubber of whist could not be safer.” “Then," said the woman, “I bid you good-morning.” companied Miss Caroline Pickney to Bishop Simonton’s carriage, tucked In the skirts of her great coat and closed the door. I think she must have taken me for a sort of upper servant, since she gave no evidence of my presence, except a stately nod at the carriage window. Here was a fine bundle of mysteries, coupled with the direction of Mason to go out and find Madame Versay. Find an unknown variety actress, only the devil’s imps knew where. Such birds had no marked tree to roost in; besides, this person was probably Madame Gladys by now, or Estelle something or other. I could not go hack to Mason for further light. He would stare at me and walk away. My directions were accurate; find Madame Versay first and then go to Richmond. I turned up the collar of my great coat, and went down for a conference with the omniscent Scally. I found him directing commerce with the gestures of a Roman praetor. I darted past the row of cabs to his island of safety and seized his hand. A moment later, when the tide had passed, he took my bill from between the fingers of hiß glove and held ft under his broad thumb; then he smiled benignly. “Misther Parks,” he said, " ’tis the speed limit you are after wishin’ to exceed?” “No,” I said; “I am the King of the Golden Mountain on the quest of a fairy.” “Go along; you’re foolin’,” he said. “By no means,” I answered; "I want to find Madame Versay.” He whistled softly. “Madame Versay, Is it! ’Tis only the devil that knows where she is now, but where she’ll be at one tonight, ’tis Scally that knows as well as the devil. In a dago case 6n the Bowery, which is next door to Paddy Moran’s dance hail, she will be atin’ and drinkin’ and carryin’ on. She’s a bad one, this Madame Versay. ’Tis back to the tall weeds your friend Scally would advise you to be goin’.” At half-past twelve that night, I found Madame Versay, and the case called “dago” by my friend Scally. It Was a fragment of Paris, transplanted to the Bowery by Monsieur Popinot, an oily, obsequious little creature from the Montmartre. He came running out to the curb to bow me In.—the coming of a hansom was an event. He enumerated his wares with true Latin enthusiasm. His caviare had arrived that very day. It wis “magnifique,” and his wines! ah, monsieur, he alone in all this raw land had* wines! His brother Anselem hunted France, nosed it, fingered it, tasted it, that he, Popinot,' might have champagne, fragrant like those little meadows nestling at the foothills of the Pyrenees. Burgundy, red like the poppies in the wheat fields of the Oise; and absinthe —here language failed him. He clasped his hands, “Ravissante, monsieur!” Madame Popinot, who presided over the cash drawer by the door, beamed upon me as I entered. She was a daughter of the little shops along the Seine, fat and vigilant, knowing Instantly if the newcomer had the price of a glass of wine in his pocket A virtue of the highest order to her; doubtless the only one remaining. I selected a little table by the wall, and, not wishing to be poisoned, ordred a bottle of bass ale and and a plate of dry biscuits,' wiping out Popinot’s disgust with a generous tip. The place was evidently a Bohemian rendezvous of a low order. The atmosphere was a stench of tobacco and sour wine, the floor was freshly sprinkled with new sawdust. The chairs and tables were of metal. Iron alone could resist large primitive emotions when they got in action. The crashof an elbow, the heave of a heavy boottoe, did not wreck a wire chair. It could be straightened presently in the crack of* a door. The place was filling up with jetsam from the undercurrents of Gentlemen going swiftly down to the sill of the world, beasts coming up from it, get somehow into evening clothes, sat well together under Monsieur Popinot’s many-colored lights. It was the depravity of Paris without a touch of its seductive esprit The naive, mischievous greeting of the M°nM n Rouge and the Folie Bergere, “Je vous aims, don-nez-moi cinq francs,” was not ber*. This place was an oak for erawt I tpondered on what limb of It perched Madame Versay. I was about to suniffiga the good Popinot to my assistwcce, when a young man, very dreivk, came in, accompanied by a weman in a superb opera coat. Tier took the table opposite to mine. young man wore a soft slop'll hat, which he promptly threw ob the floor. Then he began to hammer on t!he table with the ferrule of hie walking stick and shout, “Heah, heah, Popinot, you old dog, a bottle of Burgundy for Madame Versay. It’s the wine of love and laughter.”' My eyes went instantly to the woman. She was a medium-size, conspicuous blonde, with a rather trim figordr

excellent arms and throat, made the most of by,a low gown of black velvet Her complexion was the usual sort to be had from boxes and paint pots. Her mouth was a perfect cupid’s bow, and exquisite. Her nose Was bourgeois, but not obtrusive and not bad. Her eyes, however, were utterly bad. They reminded me of cold tallow. Her bright yellow hair was coiled on the top of her head to give an efTect of height and to lengthen her face. While her companion was unspeakably drunk, this woman was coldly sober. She constantly refilled the man’s glass, but scarcely tasted her own. I was evidently spectator at the epilogue of a quarrel which Madame Versay was striving to drown In the mixture of alcohol and claret that Popinot sold for Bifrgundy. She spoke almost Ip whispers, hnt ppw and then the man brokb out in a voice that I could hear. “No, I won’t wait no moah. I want them back. You said you only wanted them to star in. That’s what you said; to Btar in." Madame Versay patted him on the arm and cooed over ftm, but her face was as cold as a wedge. The man harped on the one idea. "No; I was drunk. * Didn’t I tell you I was drunk when I did it? and they’ve got to go hack to her.” Madame Versay suddenly changed her tactics. She leaned over, seized the young man by the collar and shook him. What she said I could not hear, but the effect on the drunken youth was marked.- He pleaded in blabberering slobbers: “That’s all right, you keep them; they’re yours. You dissolve tAm in vin’ger and drink ’em like Cle-patra. You’re good lil’ thing, you’re a good, 111’, sweet thing.” The man’s drooling grew gradually inarticulate, his head wobbled. Presently he made an ineffectual effort to pat Madame Versay’s porcelain cheek.

"Flash your star," he said, "or jar loose from the lady."

and fell forward with his arms outstretched on the table. Popinot’s Burgundy was indeed distilled from the poppies of the'Oise! The woman ordered a tumbler of whisky and drank it like water. My hour had arrived. I arose mid thread-, ed a way to her table. “Have I the honor,’’ I said, "to address Madaszp Versay?” A further light came into the cold, tallow eyes, “Not so lohd,” she said. “Are you a plain-clothes Johnnie?” I assured her that I had attained to no snch dignity as that. I was merely one coming; under a flag of truce with a megs igr from Mils Caroline Pickney. I said this over several times and in • variety of ways before Madame’s suspicions were soothed down. Then I laid before her the offer to pay ten thousand dollars cash for the jewels. A clean cut trade and no questions. The nfoney in her handß for the jewels in ours. I did not go further into the place or details of payment, that would better follow a little later on. “I’ll stand for that,” said Madame Versay, “if it’s ■Straight goods; but you will have to show it to Henderson. ® he don't flag it, the old hen can have her shiners.” I wondered mildly If we might find Henderson somewhere. # ——v—» —- “Sure,” and Madame Then she summoned Popinot., “Callup Hehderson’s Detective Agency,” ®he directed, “and tell Bobbie 9 to chase W here.” V - f

While we awaited the chasing-in of Bobbie, I drew the celebrity out a little on the subject of the slumbering youth. He was an only nephew of Miss Caroline Pickney and her halfbrother, Bishop Simonton of New York. He was an orphan and a very ebon sheep, j,. Having fallen a victim to Madame Versay’s charms, he had, shouldered the onerous duties of an “angel,” “burned his money,” and finally “swiped” the jewels from his relative and bestowed them on this Dulcinea. These jewels Madame Versay' thought it advisable to retain, since the law could not “take a fall out of her” without "Jugging” the youth. She appealed to me to affirm the moral soundness of her attitude in this: A poor girl must look out for herself. I was spared the embarrassment of a decision on so vexed a question by the arrival of Bobbie Henderson. I was also glad of all the people in the Case la Lune d’Or when he came bursting in It. He was a person with a variegated waistcoat, many seals and yellow diamonds, and a face that would have convicted him before any jury in America without a word of.evidence for the state. He sailed down upon me with the bluster of the east wind. “Flash your star,” he said, “or Jar loose from the lady." His was beyond me, but his manner admitted of no doubt. Madame Versay sprang up and thrust her elbow vigorously Into the region of his diaphragm. “Cut it out, Bobbie,” she said, “you ain’t wise to the gent. He’s no plain-clothes Johnnie. This thing’s business.” Mr. Robert Henderson was illumined. He drew up a chair and expressed his desolation at the error. Then the three of us got down to the details of Madame Versay’s “business.” The offer to pay cash was pleasing to iMr. Henderson. It “sounded good;”

but he would take no chance on a “double cross” being “handed out” The money must be paid in hia presence at a bank. No “meet me under the oak tree” for him. He was “onto” th£ iniquities of the human family. By gradual, indirect suggestions, I uncovered the plan to pay at the Jefferson Trust company in Richmond under his eye. He took to that It was “the old hen’s nest” to be sure, but doubtless the only place where she could gather up so large a “wad of dough.” And thus,, after many glasses of vile brandy, which, on my part, I managed to tip out deftly into the sawdust we got the“bußiness” closed. Mr. Robert Henderson nearly crushed my hand at parting. 'lt was so rare a thing, he said, to meet one of his “kind of gentlemen” nowadays. Madame Versay beamed, and we parted in genial fashion. I had a word with Popinot at the' door, after oiling the itching in bis palm with a silver dollar. “Poof!” he said, Madame Versay was less French than his case cat She wps born in Harlem under a shamrock. She had heard him, Popihot, name the divine Versailles in a flood of longing for hiß native country. The name pleased her; she implored him to say tt-again- and yet again,' until she got it and bo came “Madame Versay.” “Mon Dieu! one’s sides split themselves with laughter. A grisette named for a palace. Monsieur Villon never did 60 excellent a naming. La demi-monde,

l’ediflce publique, one saw Instantly the fitness of it.” lie, Popinot, was a genius of the first order. And so I left him, shaking In the door, and calling upon Olympus to send down his meed of bay-leaves. Incomparable Popinot of the Golden Moon! Shortly before ten o’clock on the tenth day of February, I walked from my hotel over to "the Jefferson Trust company in the city of Richmond. I was taken at once into the vault of the safety deposit boxes, where I found Miss Caroline Pickney and the vault officer, Mr. Montague Thomas. This young man greeted me courteously, but I had only another stately nod from Miss Pickney. She would never come to understand the social order of a commercial civilization. One who took directions from another, no matter in how exalted a sphere that other sat, was a variety of servant. It was the theory of the master bred in deep, and persisting into commercial age. , Promptly at ten, Mr. Robert Henderson arrived. He wore a large checked ulster, a top hat and astonishingly yellow gloves. He greeted me as & lest neighbor discovered in a distant country, shook vigorously the rather limp hand of Mr. Montague Thomas, but went back on his heels before Miss Caroline Pickney. She did not see him, she never saw him. I appreciated the need to get the matter speedily over, and requested Mr. Henderson to allow Miss Pickney to examine the jewels. He threw open his ulster, revealing a small leather handbag, secured to his waist by a chain, such as is used by bank messengers. He opened the bag and took out ah ancient black leather case, which he also opened and held in his hand. In it, lying coiled up against the lining of old purple velvet was a pyramid pin, two drop earlngs and a strand of oriental pearls. Miss Pick-

ney expressed satisfaction to Mr. Montague Thomas and directed him to open the safety deposit box. The young man fitted the key into the lock of box number 320, and drew down the door, Bhowing the little steel vault packed with banknotes. He took out the money In packages each enlosed by a printed slip, such as are commonly used by hanks, and marked “Two thousand dollars.” Mr. Robertr Henderson handed me one end of the jewel-case to hold, and, with his free hand, he stowed these five packs of bills into the little handbag. When he had the last one safely in, he relaxed his grip on the jewelcase, locked his handbag and hurried out of the bank. I handed the case to Miss Caroline Pickney. She opened it and caressed the jewels lovingly. But she said no word, and gave no evidence of the great emotion tugging at her except the trembling of her hands. Then she put the ease in her bosom and went down to her carriage in the company of Mr. Montague Thomas. I went out behind the pair of them. Not In all my life had I been so thoroughly ponied. What did this woman need with Randolph Mason if she intended to pay a painted actress the full value of the jewels. Any policesergeant could have done as well as he. What need was there to send me scooting into the Tenderloin and then here? The thing was idiotic. I had been waiting to see the iron lid of some hidden trap' fall swiftly and

crush Madame Versay. Instead, I had carried out Mason’s directions to the final letter, only to see the money paid, the incident closed, the thing ended. For Randolph Mason it was not a defeat only, it was a capitulation, a rout. His standard had been dragged off the field by a variety actress and a red-light detective. I was unspeakably bitter and depressed. My train to New York left over the Southern at twelve o’clock. I would go to the post office for spme letters sent after me, get a little lunch and ’hurry out of this city. I went int& the post office, got my letters, and was coming out when a deputy marshal touched me on the elbow and me to come up to the district attdkney’B office. I knew then that Mason’s , trap had sprung, and I hurried with : the little man up the- iron stairway. Mr. Robert Henderson was boiling in picturesque expletives when 1 entered the ante-room of the prosecutor for the government. His collar was wilted down, his wonderful waistcoat crumpled, tiny threads of perspiration’ lay along the fat folds of his chin. Ho broke out louder when he saw me. “That’s him. That’s one of the gang,” he shouted. "Now get the other one. Get this Caroline Pickney woman, and we’ll land them in the penitentiary.” At this moment, a tall, gracious man with a soft, drawling accent that purred dangerously like a cat’s, appeared in the doorway of the district attorney’s office. “May I inquire,” he said, “who it is that Is about to send Miss Caroline Pickney to the penitentiary?” “It’s me,” said Henderson. “Hep and this yegger have been shovin’ the queer.” “Your language is unintelligible,” said the man. “Why, green goods,” growled Henderson. "Passln’ counterfeit money, that’s what I mean.” It was my turn to be astonished. So the packs were counterfeit! Surely Mason could not have made so dangerous a blunder. He knew the laws of the United States. He could not have opened the doors of the penitentiary wider to us. The mere possession of counterfeit money was a crime. Perhaps he did not believe that Madamo Versay would dare come to the officers of the law with It. Perhaps some other arm of his plan had broken down. I was amazed and alarmed. The man in the door looked inquiringly at me. I took out my card and handed it to him. He bowed. “I am the district attorney,” he said. Then he spoke to the deputy marshal. “Go outside, close the door and see that I am not interrupted.” He turned then to the detective. “Now, my man,” he continued, “what Is ali thjs furore about?” Henderson gave the matter swiftly in detail, translating his Tenderloin terms as he proceeded. When he had concluded the narrative, the district attorney asked to see the money. Henderson unlocked his satchel, took out a pack, stripped off the gum band at either end of it, and, holding the end' of the pack in his fingers, shook out the bills before the district attorney. The lawyer had been listening with the closest attention, his face cloudedi and distressed. Now, it cleared like a summer morning. “Are the others* like this?” he said. “The same,” replied Henderson, “a 1 good tenner on the top and bottom, and the rest queer.” “Then,” said the district attorney,! “the laws of the United States have not been violated. These bills are not counterfeit.” Mr. Henderson mopped his wet face.! "What!” he ejaculated. “It ain’t good' money; is it?” "No,” replied the lawyer; “ it is not money at all.” Astonishment drove Mr. Henderson to his primal tongue. "Hell, man!” he said. “’Taint good! ’Taint badl You’re stringin’ me.” The district attorney was amused. He took the pack of money and spread it out on the table. “These,” he said, “are bills of the Confederate States of America. They are in no sense counterfeit. The passing of these bills for money of the United States is no crime against its laws. -The Federal courts have time and again so decided, although these bills closely resemble certain bank-note issues of the Federal government and have been more than pnee complained of by the treasury department.” e Then he added, wfth a courtly bow to Henderson, “My dear sir, you have in your hands the promise of a vanished republic to pay you some ten thousand dollars. Once upon a time, these’bills might have purchased you an excellent lunch kteS? perhaps a cigar with it. I doubt ita little, now. You might try Moseby Taylor on the corner below. Mention Jubal Early.” Then he turned to me. “Mr. Parks,” he said, “as you have not these potent tokens of a great sentiment to assist you, I must beg the honor of your presence at luncheon with me. I have heard of Randolph Mason.”

For the legal principle Involved In this story see United Btates v. Barrett, 111. Fed, 369.

Before and After.

This is the conversation we heard at the athletic clnb the other evening: “Did you see that motocyde race V "I did. It took ten minutes for one machine to pass my house. Slowest' race I ever saw.** . . ! “Quit kidding!' It never took anyi one motocyde ten minutes to pass your house.** "Its a fact I could hear the darned thing five minutes before it got there,, and I could smell It five minutes after; it got by.” ■ '