Nappanee Advance-News, Volume 29, Number 32, Nappanee, Elkhart County, 7 October 1908 — Page 3

Kismet and the Baby Orchid By FRANK LOVELL NELSON Carlton Clarke, Telepatho-Deductive Solver of Criminal Mysteries, Tries His Hand at a New Sort of Puzzle, Receiving Reward, Hon* Bertie Hoppington Coming Into His Own and Chief Shipp Getting the Credit for the Feat.

N looking over my rather meager notes I often find it difficult to select among the countless ! cases in which I have been associated with Carlton Clarke the one that will best make a story. At the time of

which thle story deals his fame as an unt&ngler of mysteries had gone far and wide and our Oak street quarters often presented a regular procession of . clients as early and as late as Clarke was willing to receive them. Many of my readers doubtless will recall when the city was shocked by the mysterious murder of the Honorable Algernon Sydney Hoppington. Such was the sensation at the time that it seems almost unnecessary now to go into the details. The crime, for crime it was upon the face, was discovered about four o’clock in the morning, and so great was the figure that the Honorable Algernon Sydney had cut during his three years’ residence in Chicago, where he had come from England to claim the fortune running well into the millions graciously founded there by a greatuncle, that the newspapers held on their entire mechanical force for a double-column extra. \ I opened the door to admit our old friend, late Inspector, now Chief, Shipp. It was not his first call at our humble quhrterß, for he had long ince discovered where to come for a quiet tip that demanded none of the official credit in return, and many a stubborn case had he laid before Clarke. We had him back into the dining room. Clarke merely nodded and continued to sip his coffee and puff at his cigarette, while he watched the chief and waited for him to speak. “Well, Mr. Wizard, I suppose you know what I’m here for before I tell you,” began the chief.

"Yes, I should say it is the Hoppington case. I am afraid I will have to revise the estimate of the affair I was just delivering to Mr. Sexton, here. Not so simple as it looked then. Tell us about it. Haven't the servants put you on the right track?” “Not within a thousand miles of the track. They don’t know anything. Hoppington was writing in his library at eleven o’clock. He called the butler, Biffin, to get him a bottle of wine. Half an hour later he came out to the ■dining room, where Biffin was with Bryson, the other man servant, and handed them the bottle one-fourth full and told them to finish it. They did and that is the last they remember. Drugged, I suppose. I have the bottle with the few drops that were left and will have them analyzed. The three maids had been entertalnihg company, some of my men, it appears, in the kitchen. They had just lei them out the back way and had gone into the fcutler's pantry to get a bite to eat before going up to bed when the door slammed and they heard the bolt shot and they were locked in. About an hour afterward, as near as 1 can gather from their hysterical memory of what happened, they heard a piercing female scream ring through the house “And look here! Found it on the lower step of the stoop,” and the chief drew from his pocket a bundle and on unrolling it displayed a tiny white satin slipper, a No. 1 A. It was literally soaked in blood. “A woman's work, you think?' queried Clarke. At the Hoppington number we found one of those square red stone mansions typical of the period immediately following the fire. “Ah, he was a fancier of orchids. I see,” remarked Clarke. iJHumph'” snorted the chief. “I’m sure I don’t know what you are talking about, but if you're looking for clevis there are the knife and the slipper, that are worth more than all your old orchids put together for my purposes.” Once out of the house Clarke exclaimed: - “Quick, Sexton, a cab. We’ll beat the chief at that little game.” I hailed a passing hansom and Clarke directed the driver to get to the Auditorium hotel in the quickest possible time. “And can you really lay your hands os the couple within an hour?"

t “6h, of course it is always well to make these things strong when talking to one of the chiefs caliber, but here is the case as I see it. It may need several revlsings before we come to the end. I admit, when confronted with the evidence of the knife through the table, the blood-stained slipper and the mysterious telephone call, to say nothing of the drugged wine and the servants carefully rendered' hors de combat, I couldn’t see a ray of light from them. It was evident Hoppington had been entertaining a man and a woman; that either he disposed of the servants himself in order to carry out some criminal design of his own or else that he was tricked into doing it as a part of the plot that was his undoing. “The knife thrust through the table seems to suggest either pure bravado or an excess of murderous passion that is not borne out by any other evidence of struggle in the room. The satin slipper and the telephone call are the points of evidence added by the woman. She may have stepped into the blood and shaken off the slipper, not to avoid being tracked, for she thereby left a dangerous clew, but because it would be easier to explain a lost slipper than one soaked with blood. But here I was faced by a stone wall and I could go no further." “Absolutely nothing,” I said blankly. "Os course not; but read this and see if it throws any light on it. I clipped it from this morning’s paper.” It was an item from the personal intelligence column and It said: “Capt. Fitzhugh Graham, the famous English orchid hunter, arrived in the city yesterday after a six months’ stay in the Philippines and is registered at the Auditorium Annex.”

“Capt. Fitzhugh Graham,” said Clarke to the clerk at the desk, tendering our cards. The captain hastily cleared two chairs for us. “Mr. Clarke I understand then is a fancier of orchids,” he said as his eyes wandered inquiringly from one to the other of ua, The captain hung over the back of his chair with boredom written on his face. There was no flaw in his acting, if acting It was, as he carelessly replied : “You have been well informed, Mr. Clarke, but I regret to say that the Odontoglossum stood the trip badly, as you know they nearly always do. It was not such a specimen as I would care to offer. In fact I had determined not to spoil Hoppington’s collection with it, even if he had not been murdered, and this morning I had the slavey throw it out. If that is all you will kindly excuse me and I will continue my packing as I am leaving for London this afternoon.” Clarke- glanced quickly from Graham to me, and I thought I detected Earning in his eyes. The captain watched him with apparent nonchalance, but there was something in his attitude which suggested the crouch of a tiger ready for the leap. Odontoglossum out? How sad. I do not believe there are two specimens In Chicago.” Clarke suddenly reached over and threw open the door of the humidor. Within there whs an orchid of surpassing beauty. _ “Yes, there are three, and Captain Graham, you have .lied.” The metamorphosis to the tiger was sudden and complete. Full half the length of the rtiom the captain leaped, knocking over two chairs in his flight through the air, while his long sinewy fingers closed around the throat of Clarke. It was so sudden that I scarcely seemed atrierttrgatner the thought’ necessary to bring my finger to the trigger of the revolver in my->pocket. As soon as I saw Clarke’s hand go up and encircle the captain’s straining wrist I recognized one of Clarke’s favorite tricks of jiu jitsue. A look of intense pain crossed the captain's face, the arm became nerveless and in. a moment more his huge bulk of. a body swung around and Clarke bore it easily and gently* to the floor, then reaching for the other hand, clicked ah the beautiful little pair of nickel-steel handcuffs, dainty as a lady’s bracelet, that he always carried #n his hip pocket. • Then the coming of the chief relieved a situation that was becoming tense.

Captain Graham stood haughtily at the door waiting the chiefs will. Whatever battle had been raging Id his mind evidently had ended in mastery, for he quietly interproaed: “Mr. Clarke, I ask that you take no further steps. It is useless. I alone am guilty. At the proper time I will tell all.” “Clarke, Clarke, I’ve got her,” I almost shouted, thrusting the paper at him. The item was under the head of Society Notes and read: "Among the occupants of the boxes at the performance of Aida by the. Metropolitan Grand Opera company at the Auditorium last night were Captain Fitzhugh Graham and Countess Evelyn Scrymgour of London.” "Quick, a telephone,” ordered Clarke, and the obsequious waiter set an instrument on the table and connected it with the wall switch. He Soon had my old newspaper office and asked for tfie society editor. “Here,” he said, handing me the receiver. “Ask her where the countess is staying.” * "The Victorian, I believe," came the answer. When we reached the Victorian we were aware of unwonted excitement in the Neighborhood of that usually quiet hostelry. A police ambulance and a patrol wagon were at the door discharging their load of blue-coats.

Several active young men whom I immediately spotted as reporters were hurrying into the lobby. One of them whom I~knew, Nevins of the Globe, I gripped by the shoulder and asked for an explanation. “Countess of Scrymgour or something committed suicide in her room. Come on with me,” There across the bed lay the woman of whose existence we had learned not five minutes before and with whom we had hoped to be in conversation at that very moment.' Nevins was prowling around making his investigations independently of the police. 1 kept my eyes on him and watched him abstract a letter from the open secretary. He glanced at the address and put it carefully In his pocket. I drew him into a corner. “Look here, Nevins,” I said, ' let me see the letter and I’ll let you in on the biggest story y<?u ever pulled off. Trust me and you’ll go into, the office with the full story of the Hoppington murder.” This was BBit enough and he took the letter from his pocket. I glanced "at the address. It was “Captain Fitzhugh Graham.” “We've got it. Qujek! Out of here.” I whispered, catching Clarke’s eye and beckoning-hijn to follow. _ Ase& minutes later We were at central station and with the chief iu Gra-, hum’s cell.

Clarke handed him the letter. The chief had picked up the letter which had fallen from Graham’s fingers. He read it and passed it to us. I give it verbatim: -“Beloved: Kismet Is too strong for us. There Is but one way out and I shall take It. The blood of 'the' beast’ Is on my hands and your love could never wash them clean. Tell all and save yourself. When you read this I shall be dead by the little weapon you gave me. Forgive me for the ruin of your life. You only have I loved. I kiss your mouth. “EVELYN.” For weeks we despaired of ever hearing Graham’s story while he lay in brain fever, the" result of the shock to his already overwrought nervous system. At last, however chief and I, who, despite the fact that we were the instruments of his undo-, ing, he regarded as his closest friends, sat by his bedside and heard the pitiful tale. I will abridge it to give the reader only the points in the story which remained a mystery to us and must be equally so to anyone following these lines. . Captain Graham first met the Count-g ess Evelyn Scfymgour at a house" party in Warwickshire. He had fallen deeply in love wjth her .at first sight and he laid siege to her heart as persistently as ever he* followed a rare specimen of orchid. That she. returned his love he was sure, but there was a restraint in her relations With him that he could not fathom. Finally

when riding to hounds they found themselves far from the pack. Night was coming on, a beautiful moonlit night that no lover could resist. As they jogged their horses side by side along the bridle path he took her in his arms across the saddle. She struggled feebly, yielded and their lips met in one long, passionate kiss. At last she freed herself and told her pitiful story. She could not marry him. She could not in honor say that she loved him. She was already the wife of an other, wedded before the registrar, although she did not tell him this man was the Hon. Algernon Sidney Hoppington. The marriage mijst be kept secret because if Hoppington married against the wishes or without the knowledge and consent of the great-uncle in America he forfeited all right to his vast estate. Yes, she had thought she loved him, but now—but she might not say; honor sealed her lips. Th6n they executed their coup, Capt. Graham went in first, leaving the countess in the carriage and gaining, easy admittance through the potency of the name of the baby orchid. They bargained for awhile, *and then the captain got Hoppington out of the room for a moment while he signaled and admitted the countess. When Hoppington returned he found himself face to face with his wife. The orchid seller was gone. High words followed after his first surprise was over, bitter words that coupled the name of the countess with that of the captain in a way that made Graham clench his fists and grit hla teeth to keep from dashing from the dark corner behind the stairway where she had his promise to remain no matter what happened short of actual violence. Then she charged him with the woman • they had seen leaving the door. “And you know that, you she devil,” he shouted, rushing upon her with uplifted fist. He failed to notice that she was toying with a keen-pointed hunting knife, an ornament to his library table. The captain rushed out, but he was too late. Involuntarily, Graham maintained, and for the sake of the dead and the Inability to disprove it let usbelieve so, she had raised the knife, the whole force of his body came against it, and it sank into hla heart.

The countess gave a piercing scream, and then the house was still. 'They were alone with the dead. When the horror of the deed had lifted sufficiently for them to think of the future, Graham drew the knife from the wound, and, lifting it high over the table, brought it down with all the power of his muscular right arm, The blade- sank trough the wood up tc the hilt. “There,” he said, “no matter what comes, darling, no woman’s hand did it.” Though innocent in everything, the very manner of their being in the house was against them. They planned to return to their hotels, keep close for a-day to avoid the suspicion of a quick departure, and then leave Chicago with its mystery unsolved. But the lost slipper on the stoop, the baby orchid and Kismets willed other wise. And who sent the telephone message to the police? Was it the woman they had seen who later returned and discovered the crime? Was it the countess who shuddered to think of the man she once thought she loved, and whose name she had a right to bear, lying there dead and alone? Graham did not know, and we did not find out. I have no doubt but that Graham’* story, told as we. heard it to the coroner’s jury would have set him spot free. But some Complication, some fever doubtless that he had picked up in the' tropics, set in and proved too much for his weakened body. The law had no chance to correct the error of his arrest, - . Hon. Bertie Hoppington came into his own. Chief Shipp gqt the credit for the solution of the mystery, Clarke got the reward, at so I suppose, for he is' Uniformly silent on those matters, and I, well I got the story,' and now you have that. (Copyright, 1908, by W. G. Chapman.) ' . (Copyright Ift Great Britain.)