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About The frontier. (O'Neill City, Holt County, Neb.) 1880-1965 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 31, 1908)
TKe Crime of ££: (he Boulevard CHAPTER XII. Bernardet, without stopping to salute her. pointed out the portrait and asked to see It. When he held It in his hands, he found the resemblance still more startling. It was certainly Jacques Dantin. The painting was signed "P. B.. Bordeaux, 1S7I." It was oval in ahape; the frame was gone; the edge was marked, scratched, marred, as If the frame had been roughly torn from the picture. “Have you had this portrait a long time?” he asked of the shopwomnn. T put It In the window today for the first time,” the huge woman answered. “Oh. It Is a choice bit! It was painted by a wicked one.” "Who brought It here?” “Some one who wished to sell It—a passerby. It It would Interest you to know his name”— “Yes, certainly it would interest me to know It,” Bernardet replied. Tho shop woman looked at Bernardet defiantly and asked this question: "Do you know the man whose por trait that Is?" "No, I do not know him. But tills resembles one of my relatives. It pleases me. How much Is It?” "A hundred francs,” said the big woman. Bernardet suppressed at the same time a sudden start and a smile. "A hundred francs! Dlftble! How fast you go! It Is worth sous rather than francs." “That!” cried the woman, very In dignant. "That! But look at this ma terial, this background. It Is famous. I tell’you I took It to an expert. At the public sale It might perhaps bring 1,000 france. My Idea Is that It Is the picture of some renowned person, tin actor or a. former minister—In fact, some his toric person.” "But one must take one's chance, Bcrnardet replied In a jeering tone. **But 100 francs is 100 francs. Too much for me. Who sold you the paint ing?” . The woman went around behind the counter and opened a drawer, from which she took a notebook, In which •he kept a dally record of her sales. She turned over the Ieat%s. "November 12, a small oval painting bought”— She readjusted her specta cles as If to better decipher the name. "I did not write the name myself. The, man wrote it himself." She spelled out: "Charles—Charles Breton, Rue de la Condamine, 16”— "Charles Breton," Bernardet repeat ed. “Who is this Charles Breton? I would like to know if he painted this portrait, which seems like a family por trait, and has come to sell it"— “You know, ” Interrupted the wom an, "that that often happens. It is Business. One buys or one sells all In good time." "And this Breton, how old was he?” "Oh, young. About SO years old. Very good looking. Dark, with a full beard.” “Did anything about him especially strike you?” “Nothing!” th& woman shortly re plied. She had become tired of these questions and looked at the little man with a troubled glance. Bcrnardet readily understood, and, assuming a paternal, a beaming air, he ■aid with his sweet smile: "I will not fence any more. I will tell you the truth. I am a police In spector, and I find that this portrait ■trangely resembles a man whom we have under lock and key. You under stand that It is very Important that I should know all that is to be ascertain ed about this picture.” "But I have told you all I know, monsieur,” said the shopkeeper. "Charles Breton, Rue de la Condamine 1ft—that is the name and address. 1 paid 20 francs for it. There Is the re ceipt. Read it, I beg. It Is all right. We keep a good shop. Never have wc, my late husband and I, been mixed with anything unlawful. Sometimes the bric-a-brac Is soiled, but our hands and consciences have always been clean. Ask any one along the street .about the Widow Colard. I owe no one, any every one esteems me”— The Widow Colard would have gone «n Indefinitely if Bernardet had not ■topped her. She had. at first mention of the police, suddenly turned pale, but now she was very red, and her anger displayed itself in a torrent of words. He stemmed the flood of verbs. "I do not accuse you, Mme. Colard, and I have said only what I wished to aay. I passed by chance your shop. I ■aw in the window a portrait which re sembled some one I know. I ask you the price, and 1 question you about its advent into your shop. There is nothing there which concerns you personally. I do not suspect you of receiving stolen goods. I repeat my question. How much do you want for this picture?" "Twenty francs, if you please. That Is what It cost me. I do not wish to have it draw me into anything trouble some. Take it for nothing, if that pleases you." "Not at all. I intend to pay you. Of What are you thinking, Mme. Colard?" The shopwoman had, like all people of a certain class, a horror of the po lice. The presence of a police inspector In her house seemed at once a dishonor and a menace. She felt herself vaguely under suspicion, and she felt an im pulse to shout aloud her innocence. Always smiling, the good man, with a gesture like that of a prelate blessing hia people, endeavored to reassure her, to calm here. But he could do nothing with her. She would not be appeased, i In the long run this was perhaps as well, for she unconsciously, without any intention of aiding justice, put •om« clews into Beriiardet's hands which finally aided him in tracing the, man. Mme. Colard still rebelled. Did they think she was a spy, an informer? She had never—no. never—played such a part. She did not know the voung man. She ahd bought the picture as •he bought any number of things.. "And what If they should cut off his head because he had confidence in en tering my shop? I should never for give myself, never." "It Is not going to bring Charles Brc * ton to the scaffold. Not at all. not at all. It is only to find out who he is. and of whom he obtained this portrait. Once more, did nothing In his face ■trike you?” "Nothing,” Mme. Colard responded. She reflected a moment. "Ah, yes. perhaps. The shape of his hat. A felt hat with wide brim, some thing like those worn in South Amer ica or Kareros. You know, the kind they call sombrero. The only thing I said to myself was, ‘This Is probably «ome returned traveler,- and if I had not seen at the bottom of the picture Bordeaux I should have thought that this might be the portrait of some Spaniard, some Peruvian." Bemardet looked straight Into Mme. Colard's spectacles and listened Intent ly, and he suddenly remembered what Monlche had said of the odd appear ance of the man who had. like the woman In black, called on M. Bo vere. "Some accomplice,” thought Bernar det. He again asked Mine. Colard the price of the picture. “Anything you please,” said the wo man, still frightened. Bernardet smilpd. “Come, come! What do you want for It? Fifty francs, eh? Fifty?" "Away with your 50 francs! 1 place it at your disposal for nothing If you need It." - Bernardet paid the sum he had named. He had always exactly, as if by principle, a 50 franc note In his pocketbook. Very little money— a few white pieces—but always this note In reserve. One could never tell what might hinder him In his researches. He paid, then, tills note, adding that in all probability Mme. Colard would soon be cited before the examining magis trate to tell him about this Charles Breton. "I cannot Ray anything else, for I do not know anything else," said the huge widow, whose breast heaved with emotion. She wrapped up the picture In a piece of silk paper, then in a piece of news paper, which chanced to be the very one In which Paul Kovere had pub lished his famous article on “The Crime of the Boulevard de Clichy.” Bernardet left enchanted with his "find" apd re peated over and over to himself: "It Is very precious. It Is a tidbit." Should he keep on toward the pre fecture to show this "find" to his chief, or should he go at once to hunt up Charles Breton at the address he had given? Bernardet hesitated a moment; then ho said to himself that in a ease like tills moments were precious; an hour lost was time wasted, and that as tho address which Breton had given was not far away he would go there first. “Hue de la Condamlne, 16”—that was only a short walk to Huch a tramper as he was. He had good feet, a sharp eye and sturdy legs. He would soon bn at the Bntlgnolles. He had taken some famous tramps In his time, notably one night when he had scoured Paris in pursuit of a malefactor. This, he ad mitted, had wearied him a little, but this walk from the Avenue des Bons ICnfants to the Rue de la Condamlne was but a spurt. Would he find that a fals# name and a false address had been given? Tills was but the infancy of art. If, however, he found that this Charles Breton really did live at that address and that he had given his true name, it would probably, be a very simple matter to obtain all the Infor mation he desired of Jacques Dantin. "What do I risk? A short walk," thought Bernardet, "a little fatigue. That can be churged up to protit and loss.” He hurried toward the street and number given. It was a largo house, several stories high. The concierge was sweeping the stairs, having left a card bearing this Inscription tacked on the front door; "The porter Is on the staircase." Bernardet hastened up the stairs, found the man and questioned him. There was no Charles Breton In the house; there never had been. The man who sold the portrait had given a false name and address. Vainly did the police officer describe the individ ual who had visited Mme. Colard's shop. The man insisted that he had never seen anyone who In the least re sembled this toreador in the big felt hat. It was useless to insist! Mme. Colard had been deceived. And now how to find in this Immense city of Purls this bird of passage who had chanced to enter the bric-a-brac shop. The old adage of "the needle In the haystack" came to Bernardet’s mind and greatly irritated him. But, after all. there had been others whom he had looked for. there had been others whom he had found, and probably he might still bo able to find another's trail. He had a collaborator who seldom failed him—chancel It was destiny which had aided him. Bernardet took an omnibus in his haste to return to his chief. He was anxious to show his "find" to M. Lo rlche. When he reached the prefecture, he. was immediately received. He un wrapped the portrait and showed it to M. Lerlche. “But that Is Dantin!" cried the chief. "Is It not?" "Without doubt! Dantin when young er, but assuredly Dantin! And where did you dig this up?" Bernardet related ills conversation with Mme. Colard and his fruitless visit to the Rue de la Condamlne. "Oh, never mind,” said M. Lerlche. “Tills discovery is something. The man who sold this picture and Dantin are accomplices. Bravo. Bernardet! We must let M. Glnory know." The examining magistrate was, Ilka the chief and Bernardet, struck with the resemblance of tile portrait to Dan tin. His first move would be to ques tion the prisoner about the picture. He would go at once to Mazus. M. Lerlche and Bernardet might accompany him. Tho presence of the police spy might be useful, even necessary. The magistrate and the chief entered a fiacre, while Bernardet mounted be side the driver. Bernardet said noth ing, although the man tried to obtain some information from him. After one or two monosyllabic answers the driver mockingly asked: “Are you going to tho souriciere j (trap) twtease some fat rat?" M. Glnory and M. Lerlche talked to gether of the Valkyrie, of Balreuth, and the chief asked, through polite ness, for news about his candidature to the Academy of Moral and Political Sciences. Do not let us talk of the institute.” the magistrate replied. "It is like the beginning of a hunt to sigh for the prize that brings unhappiness." The somber pile, the Mazas, opened its doors to the three men. They trav ersed the long corridors, with the heavy air which pervaded them in spite of all efforts to the contrary, to a small room, sparsely furnished (a table, a few chairs, a glass bookcase), which served as an office for the examining magis trates when they had to hold any in terviews with tlie prisoners. The guardian in chief walked along with M. Ginory; M. Leriche followed them, and Bernardet respectfully brought up the rear. ■•Bring in Jacques Dantin," M. Gi nory ordered. He seated himself at the table. M. Leriche took a chair at one side, and Bernardet stood near the lit tle bookcase, which was next the only window in the room. Jacques Dantin soon appeared, led !* hi’ two guards in uniform. He was very pale hut still retained Ids haughty air and his defiant attitude. The mag istrate saluted him with a slight move ment of the nead, and Dantin bowed, recognizing in Bernardet the man with whom he had walked and conversed behind Itovere's funeral ear. "Be seated, Dantin," M. Ginory said, "and explain to me, I beg, all you know about this portrait. You ought to recognize It.” He quickly held the picture before Dantin'a eyes, wishing to scrutinize his face to see what sudden emotion it would display. Seeing the portrait, Dantin shivered and said in a short tone, "It is a picture which I gave to Rove re." “Ah.” said M. Ginory, "you recog nize it, then?” "It Is my portrait," Jacques Dantin declared. "It was made a long time age. Rovere kept it in hia salon. How did it come here?" "Ah!" again said the magistrate. "Explain that to mo!” M Glnory seemed to wish to be a little ironical. But Dantin roughly said: "M. le Juge, I have nothing to ex plain to you. 1 understand nothing. I know nothing. Or, rather, I know that in your error—an error which you will bitterly regret some day or other, I am sure—you have arrested me, shut me up in Mazas, but that which I can as sure you of is that I have had nothing —do you hear, nothing—whatever to do witii the murder of my friend, and I protest with all my powers against your processes." "I comprehend that," M. Ginory coldly replied. "Oh, I understand all the disagreeableness of being shut up within four walls. But then It is very simple. In order to go out one has only to give to the one who has a right to know the explanations which are ask ed. Do you still persist in your sys tem? Do you still insist on keeping I know not what secret, which you will not reveal to us?" “I shall keep it, monsieur. I have reflected,” said Dantin. "Yes, I have reflected, and In the solitude to which you have forced me I have examined my conscience.” He spoke with firm ness. less violently than at the Palais de Justice, and Bernardet’s penetrating little eyes never left his face; neither did the magistrate's nor the chief’s. ,, ^ am Persuaded," Dantin continued, ' that thismiserahle mistake cannot last long, and you will recognize the truth. I shall go out, at least from here, with out having abused a confidence which one has placed In me and which I in tend to preserve.” "Yes,” said M. Glnory, “perfectly I know- your system. You will hold to it. It Is well. Now, whose portrait is that?” "It is mine!” "By whom do you think it was pos siblQ that it could have been sold in the bric-a-brac shop where it was found?” “I know nothing about it. Probably by the one who found it or stole it from M. Rovere’s apartment and who is probably, without the least doubt, his assassin.” "That seems very simple to you?” “W seems very logical.” "Suppose that this should be the ex act truth, that does not detract from the presumption which implicates you and from Mme. Moniche’s deposition, which charges you—” "Yes, yes, I know—the open safe, the papers spread out, the tete-a-tete with Rovere, when the concierge en tered the room—that signifies nothing.” For you, perhaps. For Justice it has a tragic signification. But let us return to the portrait. It was you, I suppose who gave it to Rovere?" ..^Yes’ 11 waB I*” Dantin responded. Rovere was an amateur In art; more over, my intimate friend. I had no fam ily. I had an old friend, a companion of my youtli whom I thought would highly prize that painting. It is a fine one—it is by Paul Baudry.” "Ah!” said M. Ginory. "P b_ those are Baudry's initials?" "Certainly. After the war, when I had done my duty like others—l say this without any Intention of defending myself—Paul Baudry was at Bordeaux He was painting some portraits on panels, after Holbein—Kdmond About’s among others. He made mine. It is this one which I gave Rovere—the one you hold in your hands." The magistrate looked at the small oyai painting, and M. Leriche put on' his eyeglasses to examine the quality of the painting. A Baudry! "What are these scratches around the eugo as if nails had been drawn across the places?" M. Ginory asked. He held out the portrait to Dantin. 'T do not know. Probably where the frame was taken off.” "No, no! They are rough marks. I can see that. The picture has been lit-' eralty torn from the frame. You ought, to know how this panel was framed " "Very simply when I gave it to Ro vere. A narrow gilt frame, nothing more." “Had Rovere changed the frame?” "I do not know. I do not remember. When I was at his apartment the last few times, I dot remember to have seen the Baudry. I have thought of it but I have no recollection of it.” "Then you cannot furnish any in formation about the man who sold this portrait?" “None whatever.” "We might bring you face to face with that woman.” * “So be it! She certainly would not recognize me.” "In any case, she will tell us about tile man who brought the portrait to her." "She might describe him to me accu rately, and even paint him for me " said Dantin quickly. "She can neither1 Insinuate that I know him nor proveto you that I am his accomplice. I do not, know who he is or from where he comes. I was even ignorant of his ex istence myself a quarter of an hour! ago." (Continued Next Week.) The SimpJe Life. From the Umar, Mo., Democrat. Go out to the home of some friend who lives In the country, one of these sharp autumn nights. Get out at 6 o’clock the next morning and do the chores In the chill approach of the dawn, then hie your self to the cornfield and commence strip ping the frost-covered shucks from the nubbins, staying with the job until night. Then as you unload the corn Into the crib amidst the gathering darkness you will have no trouble at all in figuring out why so many people persist in hanging around town—even when they haven’t any Job. . ar. A SMALL. ONE. Knight Standi—I want you to under stand that I am star of this company. Howell Rant—You may be billed as a star, but you couldn’t be found by a Lick telescope._ _ _ One Kind. Teacher—Willie, what is a sentence? Willie—Thirty days. , ! TWO OF THE BEST KNOWN ; GENERALS AND THEIR WIVES i---— 1-4--_____---nan » omrtv,K I Ffeoivl LEFT TO fclGHTj MAJOEL &EKE I5AL F. D. GRANT MRS LEONARD \H-OOD, NIRS FD GRANT; AND MAJOR. GENERAL LEONAR-D STOOD Now York, Special: The return of Major General Leonard Wood from the Philippines where, for more than six years, he has been in command of the military forces, marks another movement on the great army chess i-oa d. 3y it two leaders of the •‘Amer ica's regulars" are to leave their for mer posts for new fields. General Wood has only once been at Governor's Isl and, and then but for a scant 15 min utes. Major General Grant leaves the familiar scenes at “Bay Island” to take command of the Department of the Lakes, with headquarters In Chicago. Little pomp was observed when the generals exchanged compliments. It was a handshake between commanders and the formal introduction of General Wood to the staff at Governor's island. The general orders from Washington was read and the ceremony was over. General Wood returns to the United States afer a summer in Europe. Ha spent most of his time in Switzerland. He also visited the maneuvers of tha French and German armies, and was the military representative on the American commission to the Spanish Historical congress at Saragossa. THE ELECTORAL VOTE. From the Philadelphia Public Ledger. If an Intelligent foreigner, traveling In the United States at the time of a national election, should ask an Amer ican friend a few simple questions about the electoral college, when it meets and how it proceeds to choose a president, he would probably be as tounded at an utter ignorance on the part of the American sovereign voter. In the sense of having any physical function of meeting and acting, there is no such national entity as an elec toral college. The practice of elections has departed so widely from the theory of the constituiton that an American who has not made a special inquiry into the subject generally regards the general election as settling the presi dency, except for minor clerical de tails. Very few realize the truth— that the selection of a president is still beset with grave doubts and with se rious possibilities of convulsion. Not one American in 10 stops to think that Mr. Taft is not yet elected and is no more a president-elect than is any other citizen. He is the nominee of a political party and in the hands of its electors. They can choose Bryan if they so decide. ■ The process is that the electors in each state meet and vote. The state executive then certifies the vote to the secret ry of state at Washington, who certifies the returns from all the states to congress. The philosophy is that the affair is in the hands of states, and that the national congress merely counts and announces the result. Un der the constitution "the president of the Senate shall, in the presence of the Senate and the House of Representa tives, open all the certificates, and the votes shall then be counted.” Whether the president of the Senate shall count the votes, or whether the House has the power of deciding what votes shall be counted, are questions not yet finally settled, notwithstanding the legislation of the Hayes-Tllden period and the act of 1887. Many authorities hold that an amendment to the con stitution is necessary before the discre tionary power involved in counting disputed returns will be satisfactorily located. . Section 4, of the act of 1887, provides that the Senate and House shall meet on the second Wednesday of February. The president of the Senate shall pre side. Two tellers appointed by the House and two by the Senate shall open all certificates and papers. If only one set of returns shall have been lawfully certified by a state it snail be counted. In case of dispute between two state authorities, the two houses, acting concurrently, may decide. If they disagree, each house takes up the question separately, and only those returns shall be counted which both houses, acting separately, shall decide to be the “lawful votes of the legally appointed electors of states.” In other words, as Senator Sherman said, the clause allows the two houses, if they are partisan and act together, to reject the honestly recorded votes of every elpctor in every state. It per mits a majority of congress, on tech nical grounds, or no grounds, to defeat the popular will and prevent the in auguration of a new president. If the two houses do not separately concur, state disfranchisement will result. The unlettered voter will agree with the learned Jurists that unless some bet ter solution of this difficulty is in vented. trouble will sooner or later be precipitated. What if President-elect Taft should die before the electors of the states meet and vote, or after the voting and before congress counts the votes? In the Greeley case most of the demo cratic electors voted for Hendricks, but certain Georgia electors insisted on voting for Greeley. However, that doubt was removed by a court de cision which declared that a dead man is not a person and that such a vote Is void. At no time did the question threaten national disturbance, since the electors are free agents in con templation of the law; and if they do not follow party instructions or un derstandings it is a party matter. So far from settlement is the ques tion of the electoral count and so full of danger that practically every high authority has spoken of the "outlived usefulness of the electoral system." An example of the Imperfections occurs in Maryland, where Taft has carried the state, it appears, by a plurality of C05, and yet Bryan gets six of the electoral votes. At the first Instance of a po litical revolution, after which a strong majority of one party shall control both houses and be called upon to pass upon electoral votes cast for a political opponent, there will be temptations to devise technical reasons, in the vote of close states, for seating a candidate whom the people shall have rejected. The electoral system is crude, out of harmony with the customs of the coun try, fallacious in its theories and dan gerous in action—as any one can per ceive by asking himself what would har—>»n if both the president-elect and the vice president-elect should die be fore inauguration. The system has worked most of the time, because party management has been strong enough to prevent minor accidents, but no American ean think of the electoral college without a wish that a sure and sound system could be adopted. Half and Half. It was a decidedly stormy passage to New York. Israel Zangwill, the playwright and novelist, said one night in the smoking room: "It is pleasant to cross the Atlantic, but this bad weather is mingling a good deal of discomfort with our pleasure. Life is usually, though, like that— pleasure and pain—half and half. "It reminds me of an elderly spinster who sat near me at the table d’hote one afternoon in Venice. Turning to her niece, I heard her' say: “’In Venice at last! Ah, my dear, half the dream of my youth is now ful filled.’ "‘Why only half, auntie?’ the young girl asked. “ ‘I counted on going to Venice,’ sighed the spinster, ’on my wedding Journey.’ ” Another Lincoln Story. My Intimate friend, the late Judge A. W. Hubbard, who represented in congress the northwestern third of Iowa during the civil war, #elated to me the following anecdote of President Lincoln which seems especially characteristic and worthy of preservation. Judge Hubbard went to the White House to see the presi dent on some matter of business and found him occupied with a delegation from Cleveland. O., so had to wait in the ante room for their departure. At Cleve land there were two factions of the re publican party, and as is apt to be the case, in famtlles, the feud was bitter and con tention furious. Now there was a va cancy in the postoffice there, and tha president had sent to the senate for post master the name of a prominent member of one faction, and the nomination wa» likely to come up soon for confirmation or rejection. A delegation of leading men in the opposing faction had hastened to ‘ Washington to expostulate and even de mand of Lincoln a withdrawal of the nomination, and the Judge waiting in the ante room could hear the noise of their importunate demands. In course of time, however, the delegation filed out through the ante room, and the president following immediately after, hat in hand and that expressive smile of sadness on his face, reached out his hand to the judge—an old friend—exclaiming: “Another bee-gum up set, Hubbard, let's tako a walk." wVhera upon they went out to some office and the Judge's business was settled on tha way. Anyone who has seen a beehive up set will see the point and appreciate tha exclamation. ALSO BLACK EYEa. ETC. Visiting Englishman—Wbat are that most notable features about football as iii la played here? ~ The Native—Broken noses. ‘ ( The Bold iluuier—U U-houe»i, Mr. Babbit, 1 wasn't after /out 1 wua lookin' (or boaxsi \ *