Rensselaer Journal, Volume 11, Number 30, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 2 January 1902 — The Mystery Of a Gray Sleeve. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Mystery Of a Gray Sleeve.

By Howard Fielding.

Arthur Clinton sat by the window of his little office high up in a big building and looked into Some other fellow’s office across the street. He had no interest in anything that was there, except perhaps a girl whom he had seen at the window once or twice and who struck him as rather pretty. On this occasion she was not visible, and Arthur merely looked over there because he had to look somewhere. He saw a desk with open Ud and littered with documents. The large man, with gray side whiskers, who usually sat at that desk, was not to be seen. Indeed, the room seemed empty. Presently, however, Arthur- saw a hand and an arm clothed In a gray sleeve reach out over the desk and take a paper therefrom. No other portion of the individual came into view. The incident was without significance, and Arthur would not have noticed it If his mind had not beep an absolute blank at the time. It may have been a quarter of an hour later that Arthur’s eyes again wandered across the wav. The side whiskered

genSeman was standing before the desx and two others were just behind him, looking over ids shoulders. This trio appeared to have a good deal on their minds. Mr. Sideboards—as Arthur had christened the big man—was engaged in a furious search for something, and the others were desperately anxious

either tnat ne snouia nna it or tnait ne shouldn’t. It was hard to tell which at first. The thing sought was not there, and by and by the three men stood before the window and looked at one another with despair written on their countenances. Then the two others turned upon Mr. Sideboards with some sort of exhortation which resulted in his going through his pockets with painful thoroughness. The result was failure and consternation. Evidently these men had suffered a serious loss. Could the hand and the arm in the gray sleeve account for It? It should be noted here that Arthur—usually called Artie by his intimates—had a womanish streak in his nature. Outwardly it revealed Itself in his pink and white skin, as delicate as the tinting of a shell, In the gentle glance of his large hazel eye, in his immaculate attire and in his soft, sweet voice.

His face was delicately handsome, but the perfection of the features was slightly marred by the fact that his nose had been broken while he was playing Jef t tackle on his college football team. This little irregularity lent strength to his profile and might have served as a warning to any one who was tempted to trifle with Artie. Matching the shell-like skin, however, was a somewhat obtrusive sympathy. Whenever Artie saw a person In trouble the womanish part of his nature yearned first to find out what was the matter and second to render all the assistance In his power, whereas It would have been more manly to mind his own business and let the suffering stranger go right on suffering. Perceiving those people on the other side of the way to be in trouble, Artie conceived it to be his duty to go over there and get into it with them. He had a gossipy desire to tell what he knew about the hand and the gray sleeve. So Artie ran right across the street, just as if he had no troubles of his own.

It was easy to find the office where the pretty girl worked and the important document had been lost. Artie had carefully noted its position. When he reached the door, he saw that Morris & Gay, attorneys and counselors at law. wore the luacnna. Entering, he encountered the pretty girl. She was neatly dressed in a gray suit of a rather masculine style, with a standing collar and cuffs of linen, just like a man’s. Of her Artie learned that Mr. Sideboards was really Mr. Morris and later that that gentleman would see the visitor Great was the surprise of Mr. Mort rls and his companions, one of whom was Mr. Gray, and the other a client named Ridgefield, when Artie told hla story. “This Is In the highest degree Important,” said Morris. “An Important document, almost indispensable in this Ridgefield suit, has been stolen from my desk. It Is most extraordinary,” he continued, “that I should have left the desk open when I stepped out. I am most particular on such matters.” At this point Artie detected MiGay in the act of smiling secretly hind his partner’s back. With thi ■ a hint Artie glanced again at ?!.. M . rls’ desk and made up his mini 1: that gentleman was not of I lie pr‘< lar kind. It was the desk c.f :: t . disorderly person, piled deep w 1 . gotten correspondence, every p ; hole dripping neglected memoranda upon the general heap below. “Are you sure that the document isn’t there?” asked Artie in Iris gentlest tone. “Certain! Certain!” replied Morris, as if offended. “I know every paper that's thers! Don’t touch it a,gfiin,

Gay! You’ll disarrange things f A# Morris bent over as If to protect ' his desk Gay cafne around behind Artie and said in his ear: “It really Isn’t there. I’ve been through everything.” J “Who was in the office?’ asked Ar- ! tie. “Nobody but Miss Carpenter, and ahe was at her desk in the other room,” replied Morris. “She saw no one come in. That’s the cleverest part of it. Some one must have seized the opportunity just when it was ripe. I hadn’t been out of here— How long was it, Gay?’ “How do 1 know?’ demanded Gay. “1 went away before you did.” “True, true,” said Morris, “I’d forgotten. However, I couldn’t have been gone more than 20 minutes when I met you and Hidgefield and came back. So the thief was spry! "But we shall catch him.” Morris buttoned up his black Prince Albert coat as one who prepares for decisive action. “Who could have wanted the document?’ asked Artie. “Who, indeed ?’echoed Morris. “The parties on the other side of the case, I should say.” “It is worth a lot of money to them,” groaned Ridgefield. ’“Mr. Morris, how could you have been so careless?’ “Don’t worry, sir, don’t worry,” said Morris. “We’ll have the paper back !u a jiffy.” “I'll bet it's in Doyle’s office across the hall, this minute!” said Gay. Artie asked who Doyle was and learned that he was counsel for the other side. “Does he wear a gray coat?’ queried Artie. “Did he have on a gray coat when we met him this morning, Gay?’ asked Morris. “Black, I think,” answered Gay. “No, sir. It was gray. I’m sure of it,” declared Morris. “I’d like to make a certainty of it,” said Gay, “but I don’t think it would do for one of us to go across. Couldn’t Mr. Clinton, who has been so kind already. make some errand over there and get a look at Doyle’s coat sleeve?’ Artie was very obliging. He stepped across the hall and knocked on Doyle’s door. There was no response, so Artie returned to say that Doyle was out. “No, sir!” declared Morris. “He’s in. I know he’s in. I saw him go in not ten minutes ago. He’s there, but he’s lying low. I’ll tell you what you do, Mr. Clinton. Have a look through the transom over his door. You can climb up some way.” “In a good cause, in a good cause, sir,” he continued, and he led the docile Artie in the right direction. Artie found the transom rather high, but he sprang up and caught hold of something that gave his fingers a grip. Then he pulled himself to a level with the glass. The small and rather meagerly furnished workroom of Lawyer Doyle had no occupant. Artie had just satisfied himself upon this, point when he was seized violently by the legs and dragged down. His assailant was a small man, with a very large head ana a race that had a curious effect of being perfectly square. He was dressed in a suit of brown cheviot. “I’m Mr. Doyle, if you’re looking for him,” said he, and ills right hand appeared to be brandishing an invisible shillalah. “Is it possible?’ said Artie in tones of mild surprise. “I really owe you an apology. I was looking for quite another Mr. Doyle, a fellow with a gray coat, rather a large man, 1 should say, though 1 never saw him—that is, not the whole of him.” Mr. Doyle regarded Artie with a painfully bewildered stare. “There’s a power o’ lunatics running loose in this town,” said he at last. Then he unlocked ids door and closed it behind him with a bang. Artie smiled a sweet, sad smile. Then he quietly re-entered the office of Morris & Gay. “Doyle isn’t your man,” said he. “His coat is brown.” Mr. Morris stroked his gray side whiskers, first on one side, then on the other.

“What do you think of It, Gay?” he asked, after a pause. “I think It’s a mighty queer thing that Miss Carpenter didn't see anybody come in,” said Gay. “She can see the door from her desk”— “But she can’t see it from the looking glass,” said Morris. “I suppose she was fixing her hair. She’s always doing that.” “Very pretty hair,” said Artie dreamily; “quite worth the trouble.” At this moment Miss Carpenter returned from her modest noonday lunch. She went to a little cupboard in the room where the four men were and put away an umbrella. Then she walked toward her own place, which was on the other side of a very small vestibule, and she couldn’t have been more than six feet from the threshold of Morris’ room when that gentleman jumped up excitedly and In a stage whisper that might have been audible out in the main hall exclaimed: “By the everlasting heavens. Miss Carpenter!” "What do you mean?” said Artie. “It’s as plain as day!” cried Morris. “Gray suit; cuffs like a man’s. It was she that took the paper!” lie was rushing after her when Artie laid a hand on his arm, whereupon Mr. Morris was surprised to find that he could not move that arm any more than if he had been tied to an Iron post. “My dear sir,” said Artie in a voice like the softest chord of an Aeolian harp, “if you presume to twist any testimony of mine in such a way as to make it bear against that young lady, I will tie you up into a double bowknot and hang you on the chandelier!” “Well, sir! Well, sir!” exclaimed Marcia, unahla for tha mnmanf to

tnmk or any rejoinder that would fit Artie's unique threat. “If you fancy,” continued Artie, “that I cannot tell the difference between a dainty little hand like Miss Carpenter’s and the straggly old paw that abstracted your precious document, you don’t know much about optics, and, while I am on this subject, let me inquire whose coat it is that Is hanging up in that cupboard? Miss Carpenter, will you be good enough to open the cupboard door?” He had noticed that the fair secretary, having heard her name so unjustly used, had returned and was standing in the doorway. She compljed with Artie’s request and thus made visible a gray sack coat that was hanging on a peg in the little closet. “Why, that’s your oflice coat, Morris!” exclaimed Gay, hurrying toward the cupboard. “I know it,” said Morris tartly. “Of course it is, but I haven’t had it on this morning:” “Yes', you did, Mr. Morris,” said Miss Carpenter. “You had it on just before you went out.” . “I’ll take my oath”— Mortis began, but at that moment Gay thrust his hand into the breast pocket of the coat and drew out the missing paper. “Morris,” said he, “you’re so infernally absentminded that I’m expecting every day to see you come down to the oflice in your pyjamas.” “Nothing of the kind, nothing of the kind, sir,” protested Morris. “If that paper is in my coat, somebody must have put it there.” “Undoubtedly somebody did,” rejoined Gay. “and we won’t ouarrel over the question of wly> that somebody was. We’ve only time to get to court.” “I trust, however,” said Artie, “that Mr. Morris will find time to apologize to Miss Carpenter.” “Apologize to her!” exclaimed Morris. “It’s hardly necessary. Miss Carpenter knows what I think of her. She is the most»fajthful; serviceable and intelligent woman that ever came into a law oflice, bar nobody. I have always said so.”

When Artie returned to his own cage, he saw Miss Carpenter standing by a window of Morris & Gay’s office, and when he appeared she made a gesture .that was very much like throwing a kiss. Whereupon Artie pretended to catch this unsubstantial token, to roll it up gently in his hands and to put it. carefully away in the upper left side pocket of his waistcoat.

ARTIE FINDS THE MISSING PAPER.