Detective and mystery stories; New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction
It was my task now to mention the advertisement I had inserted in the
newspapers, and the reflections which had led to my rather daring
description of the wandering woman as one dressed thus and so, and
_without a hat_. This seemed to strike him--as I had expected it
would,--and he interrupted me with a quick slap of his leg, for which
only that leg was prepared.
"Good!" he ejaculated; "a fine stroke! The work of a woman of genius! I
could not have done better myself, Miss Butterworth. And what came of
it? Something, I hope; talent like yours should not go unrewarded."
"Two letters came of it," said I. "One from Cox, the milliner, saying
that a bareheaded girl had bought a hat in his shop early on the morning
designated; and another from a Mrs. Desberger appointing a meeting at
which I obtained a definite clue to this girl, who, notwithstanding she
wore Mrs. Van Burnam's clothes from the scene of tragedy, is not Mrs.
Van Burnam herself, but a person by the name of Oliver, now to be found
at Miss Althorpe's house in Twenty-first Street."
As this was in a measure putting the matter into their hands, I saw them
both grow impatient in their anxiety to see this girl for themselves.
But I kept them for a few minutes longer while I related my discovery of
the money in her shoes, and hinted at the explanation it afforded for
her not changing those articles under the influence of the man who
accompanied her.
This was the last blow I dealt to the pride of Mr. Gryce. He quivered
under it, but soon recovered, and was able to enjoy what he called
another fine point in this remarkable case.
But the acme of his delight was reached when I informed him of my
ineffectual search for the rings, and my final conclusion that they had
been wound up in the ball of yarn attached to her knitting-work.
Whether his pleasure lay chiefly in the talent shown by Miss Oliver in
her choice of a hiding-place for these jewels, or in the acumen
displayed by myself in discovering it, I do not know; but he evinced an
unbounded satisfaction in my words, crying aloud:
"Beautiful! I don't know of anything more interesting! We have not seen
the like in years! I can almost congratulate myself upon my mistakes,
the features of the case they have brought out are so fine!"
But his satisfaction, great as it was, soon gave way to his anxiety to
see this girl who, if not the criminal herself, was so important a
factor in this great crime.
I was anxious myself to have him see her, though I feared her condition
was not such as to promise him any immediate enlightenment on the
doubtful portions of this far from thoroughly mastered problem. And I
bade him interview the Chinaman also, and Mrs. Desberger, and even Mrs.
Boppert, for I did not wish him to take for granted anything I had said,
though I saw he had lost his attitude of disdain and was inclined to
accept my opinions quite seriously.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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