THE PLUNDERERS A Novel By Edwin Lefevre Harper & Brothers Publishers New York And London 1915 [Illustration: 0012] [Illustration: 0013] THE PLUNDERERS I--THE PEARLS OF THE PRINCESS PATRICIA ON the day before Christmas a man of middle age, middle height, and middle weight, smooth-shaven, dressed in black and wearing black gloves, walked into the business office of the New York _Herald_. He approached the first “Advertisements” window, looked at the clerk a moment, opened his mouth, and said several words-at least, so the clerk judged from the motion of the man's lips. “I didn't hear that, Cap,” said the clerk, Ralph Carroll. The stranger thereupon made another effort. “You'll have to come again,” Carroll told him, kindly, at the same time leaning over the counter and presenting his left ear to the voiceless talker. He heard: “How much to print this ad under Male Help Wanted, in big type, so it will make about two inches?” I He handed a slip to the clerk, which the clerk read, counting the words from sheer force of habit: Wanted-A Man With St. Vitus's Dance and an Introspective Turn of Mind. High Wages to Right Party. Apply Saturday Morning, Room 888, St. Iago Building. “Four-sixty-four,” said the clerk. The man raised his eyebrows inquiringly. “Four dollars and sixty-four cents,” repeated Carroll. The man took out a wallet and tried to pull out a bank-note, but could not because of his gloved hands. He took off the right glove, fished out one five-dollar bill and gave it to the clerk, who handed him back thirty-six cents. As the man took the change the clerk distinctly noticed that he had a big ivory-colored scar which ran from the knuckles to the wrist and disappeared under the cuff. He remembered it by reason of the freak ad and the man's voice. The advertisement appeared in the _Herald_ on the next day. Being Christmas, the one day of nonreading in America, few people saw it. Nevertheless, at nine on Saturday morning, ten men with spasmodically twitching necks or limbs waited for the advertiser to open the door of Room 888, on which they saw in gilt letters: ACME VIBRATOR COMPANY W. W. LOVELL, MANAGER The elevator man was heard to tell an inquirer, “Here's Lovell!” And presently the voiceless man, dressed as usual in black, with black gloves, stepped from the elevator, nodded to the waiting men in the hall, and opened the door of 888. At first they thought he was a mute, but realized later that he was merely saving his bronchial tubes, just as asking men to come Saturday forenoon--pay-day and pay-hours--would save effort by bringing only men without employment.