Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 185, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 August 1918 — A VILLAGE SLEUTH [ARTICLE]

A VILLAGE SLEUTH

By WARREN L. TRESHAM.

tUupyright, 1018. by Western Newspaper Culuu.) • "Dolph,” -his familiars called him. his full name, was Adolphus Barclay, and “the sleuth” he was dubbed by certain derisive residents of Brookdale. He had won the appellation fairly, for inquisitiveness and a habit of following up that characteristic with prying- / ways had become a part of his nature, Dolph had finally engendered a distinct detective ambition, but the local scope was limited and he was compelled to accept what offered, which, was a half-salaried position as a constable on the staff of the sheriff. Here Dolph shone, or fancied he did. At all events he worked up a deepmystery about once a month. It usually ended in smoke, but the amateur man catcher was diligent. He invested ordinary civil cases with a tinge of uniqueness and Importance, discerned purposes of arson in a common bonfire and the occasional thefts of tramps as the operations of a leagued clique of bandits, bent’ upon devast*ing the district. Dolph confessed to a sneaking fondness for Margaret Dunn, who thoroughly despised him and his methods. They merely spoke and Dolph never ventured to go further than that. He had high hopes, how “t, of some day coming across-a mystery, a. tragedy, where his professional acumen would arouse the interest and admiration of the pretty daughter of old farmer Dunn. "That’s strange!” muttered Dolph one afternoon, as, near to the Dunn home, he observed a young man enter the yard little farm and lift his*cap to Margaret. A conversation ensued. Dolph dared not venture near enough to overhead it. He could only trace that Margaret was fairly cordial to the stranger. She went around tp the barn, reappearing with old Dobbin hitched to a light wagon. The young man carried one arm in a sling. They drove down the road for about a mile. Then the young man alighted. He went in among somebushes, reappeared with a suitcase, placed it in the wagon and the trip back home was made. The young man was evidently Invited by Margaret to tea. Dolph, sneaking closer to the house, observed, them both seated at the table In thedining room. Dolph edged his way around to the front porch. The mysterious suitcase had been left there by the stranger. Dolph observed that it was only strapped. His inquisitivetemperament urged him to get a glimpse of its contents. He nlftily released the straps, opened the satchel and — “A spy—worse!” he breathed, his eyes sparkling, his face eager, inspirited. "At last a famous catch!” .Then he restored the suitcase to its original condition and made off down the road in feverish haste.

The stranger of military bearing, arm in sling, as though some returned war hero, had politely addressed Margaret He told her that he was due in the village at seven o’clock, that hehad made a mistake in leaving thetrplley and had been unable to carry the suitcase more than a mile oil account of his injured arm. He told enough of how its transient uselessness came about to not only interest, but to enthuse Margaret, who at once offered to recover the abandoned object, give him his supper as well, and then drive him to the village, for wa* not she to meet her father there and. accompany him to the war meeting in behalf of the Red Cross at the town, hall? Meantime Dolph Barclay raced down the turnpike, never letting up on his speed until he had reached the office of the sheriff. “I’ve made a marvelous discovery,” proclaimed Dolph, and told his story graphically to the point where he had opened the suitcase. “Weel, weel, go on,” urged the sheriff impatiently. “What did you find in it?” “The outfit of a regular spy, a dynamiter!” declared Dolph in ponderous tones. “I found in that suitcase —” “Yes, yes; go on!” “An enemy flag, an enemy helmet end an explosive shell. Say! it would turn you pale to see' its deadly size. Oh, I’ve made a catch this time, believe me!”

-“Come on," said the sheriff, “we’ll find this mysterious stranger and explore the contents of that suitcase.” “There they are 1” announced Dolph, as half a mile down the turnpike he saw the wagon approaching, and on the front seat, chatting and laughing, Margaret and her stranger guest. “Halt I” ordered Dolph, springing Into the road. “Sheriff, I denounce this man as a spy and the proof of it will be found in that carpet bag!”

Margaret uttered a slight laugh. Her companion broadly grinned. This ; somehow discomposed the sheriff. "May I ask,” he inquired, “what you have in that suitcase?” “Surely," answered the stranger with promptness, “an enemy flag, a helmet such as our foes wear, and a sample of the explosive shells we use on the front. I have just come- from there, and am assisting your lecturer at the war meeting* tonight by exhibiting these trophies of warfare.” “Why, yes, Mr. Barclay," added Margaret sweetly, “and we invite you, as a public official, to have a seat on the platform.” So the great discovery of the amateur sleuth went up, as usual witijybia cases, in smoke, but it brought about a later further companionship for Margaret and her soldier guest.