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The Strange Adventures
o/ Christopher Poe
Stories of Strange Cases Solved in Secret by a Banker-Detective
^ By ROBERT CARLTON BROWN
(Copyright, 1915, by W. G. Chapman.)
1 The DUCHESS DIAMOND
Quite a part of the mellow Venetian
night was the short, wiry, deep-chested
figure standing by a pillar in fbont of
San Marco. It was a night to linger
and listen, to expand and glow in the
moonlight. From the Grand canal
came quavery foreign cries, the soft
dip of oars, glints of lights, and wisps
of melody. It was a night to win one
from bed, a night dimming all day; a
Whistlerian nocturne.
The old San Marco clock boomed
ominously twenty-one times, proclaim
ing the hour of nine after the olden
fashion giving each hour of the twenty
four its rightful count. And with the
last re-echoing boom the piazzi band
burst into a rousing military strain,
standing in the center of the square,
surrounded by a throng of night-pleas
urers; for the Ven'ce season was on,
and the city thronged.
The lonely-looking figure in front of
San Marco stirred, steppefl out, and
strolled toward the music, slipping in
to a chair before a table in an outdoor
cafe.
“Cafe nolr!" he ordered from an
obsequious waiter, ana sat musing be
tween the music and a hilarious party
of Americans drinking champagne_at
the next table.
“You can tell an American wherever
he is,” cried the modishly dressed
young fellow who was buying the bot
tles, flushed with excitement and wine.
“And a man from Manhattan you can
recognize by the cut of his coat, his
cravat, smooth face, and keen eyes.”
“That is the American eye for
money and business, I presume,”
drawled an Englishman in the party
“We have to earn ours,” answered
the flushed youth. "The majority of
our families aren’t old enough to in
herit from. The aggressive American
spirit leaves its print on all of us. Do
you think you could mistake one of us
for a whiskered Frenchman, an oily
Italian, a stolid German, or a tight
trousered Englishman?”
"All this patriotism because this is
your Independence day, I presume,”
smiled the Englishman.
“Fourth of July ought to make a
man think of his com try. You pecple
have tank holidays. Christmas and
New Year’s; that's all. Did you ever
sec a regular fourth of July celebra
tion?”
“Oh, I know; beastly vulgar, charm
ingly Chinese; fireworks, songs,
speeches—”
“Wait! We’ll show you a Fourth of
July celebration.” As the band stopped,
the young American jumped to his
chair and waved his hat.
“Hurrah for Fourth of July!” he
cried. “Americans! Americans! We're
about to jolt old Venice with a real
Fourth of July celebration. Anybody
who can sing ‘Yankee Doodle’ or
‘Dixie,’ come over here and helm Unit
ed we stand! This is our day, gather
around, and we may even find some
body who knows the words t.
‘America.’ ’’
He sat dov n amid reproving glances
from the conservative members of h's
party and pardonable patriotic grirs
from the others.
J “Hurrah for Fourth of July' We'm
coming!” came a cry from the other
side of the square, and a minute later
four young college fellows burst upon
the table of Americans.
“Welcome to our city; my name’s
Bowen, Belasco Bowen. Glad to see
you on this auspicious day; sit down
and quaff the sizzling fireworks drink,
pyrotechnical champagne. Forward,
Americans!” He beckoned to the
crowd about the band, and a number
of recruits came. ^
“There's a New Yorker!" cried Be
lasco Bowen, spying the wiry little
man sitting at the next table sipping
his cafe noir a little excitedly. “I can
tell him by his derby. Come on in;
the wateret wine is fi :e.”
The lonelj-lookii . man picked up
his cup, and joined the party, introduc
ing himsell as Mr. Hardy—none other
than Christopher Poe.
“Now all together!” cried Bowen,
“well sing ‘Yankee Doodle’ and sur
prise the natives. One, two. three!
‘Yankee Doodle came to town, a rid
ing—’” He. picked un an empty bottle
and wavt<’ it as a b- ton in time to the
lively song led by the college men sup
ported by a dozen others. Passing Ku
ropeans smil d indulgently t the mad
Americans, and quite a crowd gathered
to enjoy the refreshing novelty.
“Come on!” cried Bowen, as the
song came to an abrupt finish. “We’ll
make a raid on all the stores around
here, and see what we can scrape up
in the way of fireworks. Then we ll
hire a launch and take a trip on the
canal."
His enthusiasm was contagious; of
the score of Americans only three
wished to drop out, and while the col
legians rushed off to find a Chinese
store which might furnish fireworks.
Bowen banteringly persuaded Mr. and
Mrs. Van Wentd, the chief dissenters,
that their daughter Constance would
enjoy the spectacle and that it was
their duty as Americans to go along.
By the time the scouts had returned
loaded with Roman candles, nigger
chasers. good old-fashioned fire-crack
ers. candles and lanterns, the number
had swelled to thirty A launch and a
polygot cafe orchestra were hired, and
amid shouts of “Three Cheers for
Uncle Sam." snatches of “Dixie,” and
other evidences of patriotism, the gay
party wound up the Grand canal, set
ting off fireworks, making speeches
singing and doing a hundred mad
pranks that shocked the staid respect
•ble Venetians plying back and forth
in their somber gondolas, and made
matter for ambitious reporters and cor
respondents.
The canal rang with uncorked pa
triotism. and those who had been long
eat from borne were wildest In their
demonstrations.
As the gay ride drew to an end, Be
lasco Bowen gathered up the remain
ing Roman candles, and, picking his
way to the bow, steadied himself in
the rocking boat, grasped a stick of
punk from M. Van Wendt’s hand, and
touched off all the candles In a bunch.
Ho lurched awkwardly with a dip of
the boat, and a shower of sparks scat
tered over Constance Van Wendt.
“My dress!” she cried, frantically
fighting oft the sparks.
A dozen hands flew to her aid, and
the sparks were instantly extin
guished. Belasco Bowen apologized
sincerely, and no harm being done, re
turned to waving his candles over the
water out of harm's way.
Constance Van Wendt was excited
ly arranging her attire with the help
of her solicitous mother.
“Your diamond? The Duchess Dia
mond!” cried Mrs. Van Wendt sudden
ly. “Where Is it?"
Miss Van Wendt’s hand went to her
throat, groping for the chain on which
the famous stone had swung. “Why,
it’s gone!” She felt among the frills
of her drese, her face anxiously lined
and ghastly white in the glare of Bow
en’s falling rockets.
The deck was searched, Miss Van
Wendt’s clothes were shaken out, and
when the launch was finally moored at
San Marco the whole party fell to ex
amining the floor-planks for crevices.
But nothing came to light, until Belas
co Bowen, beside himself with anx
iety for having indirectly caueed the
loss, caught a glint of gold on the gun
wale, and found the chain hanging
down, on the outside, almost touching
the water.
Van Wendt grasped the thin chain
and jerked it off.
“The stone slid into the water, Con
stance!” he cried, holding up the finely
linked chain. “It’s gone down to the
bottom of the Grand canal!”
I must replace It!” cried Belasco
Bowen anxiously. "It was my stupid
awkwardness that caused it all. In
fighting the fire some one must have
accidentally torn it from her throat."
“The chain was specially made,
there is a platinum wire running
through It,” explained Van Wendt,
holding it up. “I thought it was safe."
He passed it into the hand of Chris
topher Poe. “See! it must have caught
on something. An awful wrench, Didn’t
you feel it, Constance?”
In the excitement and everything,"
she murmured, “I don't know what I
felt.”
The party, already having dwindled
, to a dozen, tiled sadly into a cafe for
supper.
“I’ve heard of the stone," whispered
one of the college youths, as the pa
triotic party took seats. “It's worth a
cool hundred thousand. Van Wendt
is the Chicago grain operator, you
know.”
All the madness of celebration had
flickered out, and the remaining tour
ists sat hovering over ices, hushed,
hanging on the words of Van Wendt
“There is just a chance that some
body might have picked up the stone,"
suggested Bowen, glancing about the
table thoughtfully.
“No. there is no chance, the'chain
was trailing in the water; I should
have had the stone fastened to it, but
the jeweler said it must slide, and I let
him have his way. But. come, don’t
let this put a damper on us. Let’s all
have a nightcap and break up.” Van
Wendt’s forced cheerfulness chilled
them all, and the nightcap was me
chanically drunk in silence.
Half an hour later there remained at
the table only Belasco Bowen and
Christopher Poe.
“Mr Hardy, what would you do in
a position like mine?” asked Bowen,
earnestly addressing the New York
banker, whose affected simplicity and
sincerity had won his confidence.
“You see, I am morally to blame for
the loss, but the stone could ncft be
duplicated. I might send them another
anonymously to make up for it.”
“Mr. Van Wendt seemed satisfied
that it was only an unavoidable acci
dent; I am sure he can stand the loss,”
•replied Christopher Poe.
“You don’t think he’ll harbor any
resentment toward me?"
“Why, no. It was all in the game.
He came along with us, and the acci
d?nt happened, that’s all. You are no
more responsible than I am.”
“But I urged the Van Wendts to join
us.” said Bowen ruefully.
"It’s mighty unfortunate, but I’d for
got it if I were you. You started a
good time, and we all enjoyed it; let’s
think of that instead of the unfortu
nate climax."
i guess you re rignt, but I do feel
guilty. 1 suppose there’s no chance
to dredge the,Canal?”
“Of course not The diamond's
gone, let the dead rest Let’s change
the subject. Tell me something to
see in Venice; it’s all new to me, and
you seem quite at home."
“The galleries and castles of course
you've seen?”
“Yes, but Isn’t there some slumming
or something to do In this city of
bridges? I’ve been looking for some
body who could show me an exciting
place or two. Something different,
that’s what 1 want.’
“I’ll take you to the fish-markets to
morrow, it you like. It's quite a
sight,” offered Bowen.
“Bully! Would you? » like that
sort of thing, and it isn’t often one
meets a kindred spirit.”
’That s right.” replied Bowen heart
ily.
“Now forget all about that stone.”
advised Poe in parting. “You are
blameless, and don't let it worry you.
We will meet here at ten tomorrow.’*
They went to their separate hotels,
and before going to bed Chrisopher
Poe sent a cable to bis friend Burns.
Was the name of the suspect in
the Farmers' National burglary
Belasco Bowen? 1 remember he
posed as a society chap. When
did he sail from New York?
On returning from an Interesting
excursion with Bowen to the fish
market next day, Christopher Poe
found the following cipher message
awaiting him.
Right. Saw a newspaper notice
last month that after a house
P-rty at Van Wendt’s he went
aboard the same boat with then'.
Having torn up the reassuring note,
Christopher Poe went to his room,
and sat for an hour concentrating on
the missing Duchess Diamond. Then
he sent word to Bowren inviting him to
dinner that night.
Poe turned the talk to a glowing ap
preciation of Naples after the meal,
and before he and Bowen parted it
had been decided that they would take
the trip together.
At Naples Christopher Poe managed
so that he occupied a room adjoining
Bowen’s and, making his interests
conform with the younger man’s, he
was soon on an intimate footing with
him.
If Bowen had the Duchess Diamond,
which Poe believed he had, surely the
possession of it seemed to bother him
little. He went about the business of
enjoying himself as thoroughly as any
American tourist and never showed
the slightest degree of nervousness,
always seeking Poe's company and
ever ready for diversion.
They had spent an interesting, ex
citing week at Naples, when one night
Bowen received a cablegram which he
tore up and threw In the grate in the
presence of his companion.
“Good news?" asked Poe.
“No; bad news. I’ve got to go back
home to tend to business," replied
Bowen.
“I’ve about made up my; mind to sail
on the Princess day after tomorrow,"
said Poe promptly.
“Good. Then I shall have the pleas
ure of your company to New York.”
Bowen sat in thoughtful silence for
a minute, and suddenly remarked:
“By the way, I want to take home
a couple of bottles of that Barbera
we saw in that little wine-shop the
other day. I wonder if it would be
open tonight?"
“We might stroll over and take a
chance," suggested Poe, anxious not
to lose sight of his companion now
that sailing-time was near.
Luckily the shop was open, and
Bowen purchased three bottles of
choice wine privately put up by the
dealer in squat, thick-necked bottles.
“We'll drink these on the boat, to
avoid paying duty on them," remarked
wincing a bit from the Irritation as he
worked at his nail.
“There, it’s all right now. Those are
handy things to have.” He examined
the heavy, sharp blades.
“I find them useful, but I usually
forget I’m carrying them,” replied
Bowen quickly, reaching out, and
dropping the nail-clippers into his
pocket nonchalantly.
Next day they sailed early on a
gigantic, fast boat for New York, both
evidently glad to bid goodbye to vaca
tion and get back to real work.
Belasco Bowen seemed particularly
elated, but in the afternoon, as the^
ship struck into the sea and a pro
nounced rolling motion was felt, he
retired to his stateroom, which he oc
cupied alone. Christopher Poe re
mained sitting in the smoking-room,
thinking over the disappearance of the
Duchess Diamond, and piecing to
gether bits of circumstantial evidence
against Bowen.
flair an nour later ne strolled up to
the wireless room on the promenade
deck, and to his surprise, as he en
tered, found Belasco Bowen just hand
ing over a message to the operator.
Bowen glanced up sharply at Poe’s
entrance, then smiled easily, remark
ing:
“1 was afraid I’d be a bit sea-sick,
but I couldn't stand it in iny berth, so
I strolled up on deck.’’
Poe had a fleeting glimpse of the
wireless message, as the operator
counted the words, and he was thrilled
to find it written in cipher.
For the remainder of the day he
strolled about on deck with Bowen,
and Just before bedtime drank with
him one of the interesting black bot
tles of Barbera, finding it excellent
“Do we stop at Quarantine to pick
up the doctor?” asked Poe icly. as like
all travelers they anticipanfty, dis
cussed their arrival.
“No,” answered Bowen quickly.
“But we slow down to pick him up,
and usually the Customs men come
aboard there."
"Oh, yes, they row alongside in a
boat and climb up a pilot’s ladder, I
remember.”
"Usually just apposite the little
Quarantine rock,” added Bowen. "We
run slow for about fifteen minutes,
coasting just past Quarantine.’’
The New York banker was pleased
to find that his companion had such
exact information, and as a result, be
fore going to bed, Poe wrote a long
message to his friend Burns In New
York. The message was In cipher.
“What the devil do you mean?
Rowen, his eyes caressing the «liapely
bottles.
“1 -volunteer my help,” said Poe:
“guess I'll buy a bottle or two myself."
With their purchases the pair
strolled back to the hotel, and before
going to bed that night Christopher
Poe sat long in silent contemplation
before the heavy wine-bottles.
An idea was smoldering in his mind.
So far he had nothing tangible against
Bowen except his record, as affirmed
by Burns, his interest in rgiug the
Van Wendts to go on the wild Fourth
of July excursion, and his awkward
movement which showered Miss Van
Wendt with sparks. Since then Poe
had seen nothing to substantiate his
Suspicion, and he was surprised that
Bowen could act innocence so per
fectly. If he really had the diamond,
how did he figure to get it past the
Customs in New York? In Bowen's
manner he found no confession of
guilt; the young fellow acfed naturally
and confidently.
Placing the wine-bottles In the bot
tom of his steamer trunk, Christopher
Poe went to bed. Next day both were
occupied in making preparations for
sailing, and it was only at dinner-time
that they met. After dinner, as they
were sitting opposite each other in
the quaint, cool lobby of their little
Italian hotel, Christopher Poe sud
denly glanced down at his left hand.
"How’d I get that?" he cried, lifting
his little Anger, to show the ragged
nail, torn jaggedly across, exposing
the quick.
He fumbled in his pocket with his
other hand.
“Got a knife?” he asked abruptly,
glancing at Bowen.
“No, not here. What’s the matter?”
“I’ve torn my nail. I used to carry
one of those nail-clippers. They're
handy. You don't happen to have a
pair?”
“No,” answered Bowen, absently,
then he leaned forward with interest
“Why, yes, by George, 1 guess I have!”
he cried. ”1 seldom use them.” He
slipped his Angers into an upper waist
coat-pocket and produced a compact
steel nail-clipper.
“Thanks, very much,” replied Poe
and he slipped into the wireless office
with it early next morning before
many passengers were on deck.
The trip was pleasant, and Poe and
Bowen were continually together ex
cept when Bowen stayed alone in his
stateroom during periods of sea-sick
ness. Each night they drank together
a bottle of the pleasant Italian wine,
and those on board who not.iceu them
wondered why they were inseparable.
The night before arriving in New
York Belasco Bowen was particularly
gay; all evidence of sea-sickness had
passed, and he gave up the evening
to cementing his friendship with
Christopher Poe, and suggesting de
lightful little excursions they could
make in New York.
Poe, too, was in good spirits, for
he had received an answer to his elab
orate instructions to Burns.
They met again after lunch next
day, and New York was already in
sight.
"We re getting in, beamed Bowen,
sharing the bustling anticipation of
the whole ship. "See?” ha -pointed
to a far-off speck. "There’s Quaran
tine, and it’s only half an hour to dock
from there.”
"Land certainly looks good after all
this time. Are you packed up?”
queried Poe.
"No. Going down to finish now, it
won’t be difficult. Only a steamer
trunk and two grips. I guess 1 can
squeeze everything into them.”
He excused himself and went below,
while Poe leaned over the rail thought
fully, watching the little rock island
gtadually growing bigger against the
horizon.
Ten minutes later Belasco Bowen
rejoined him.
“Finished so soon?” queried Poe.
“Yes, got everything in but the last
confounded bottle of that Barbera.
We should have drunk two last night."
“But 1 had to get rid of mine,”
smiled Poe. “There's no fun in being
delayed by having to pay duty on a
little bottle of wine.”
“By George, you’re right They'd
be sure to stick me for it, and it
would take an hour to go through all
the red tape. Let’s finish that bottle
now. What do you say?” asked Bowen
evenly.
"Why not? There’s the old Statue
of Liberty looming up, let's drink
to her," offered Christopher Poe
propmtly.
Belasco Bowen whisked through the
saloon and down to his berth, return
ing instantly with the bottle and a
corkscrew.
"Steward,” he called to a passing
greyhound, “get me a couple of
glasses, will you?”
The boat was already slowing up
for Quarantine, and those of the pas
sengers who had finished their pack
ing weVe crowding to the port-rail to
see the doctor and Customs men come
aboard by the narrow rope-ladder.
"Let’s get over on the other side,
out of this crush,” suggested Bowen.
They sauntered to the deserted side of
the ship, where the great Statue of
Liberty stood in full view.
Belasco Bowen gazed off across the
water, pointing out several small sail
in .-craft dotting the waves and bob
bing about like corks.
“Isn’t it beautiful^” he cried.
“Yes, but that life looks more ro
mantic than it is. See those two fel
lows down there, alone in the big dory,
handling those heavy oars; do you
think they enjoy the jolly fishermen's
life you read about?” queried Poe.
The boat in question was headed out
to sea, and the two fishermen jerked
frantically at their oars to avoid a pos
sible collision with the creat vessel.
Before Belasco Bowen could reply,
the servile steward stepped up with
the glasses.
Bowen ripped off the tin-foil cap on
his bottle, slowly twisted the screw
into the cork, pulled it out with an
accustomed jerk and filled brimming
glasses for Poe and himself. He
placed the balf empty bottle in the
scuppers where it would not tip over,
and idly removed the cork from the
screw as he smiled at Poe and pro
posed:
"We’ll drink to the dangers of the
sea and the pleasure of safi home
coming.”
He slipped the corkscrew into his
pocket, absently tossed the cork over
the rail, and raised his glass to touch
the rim of Poe's.
They drank, and Bowen refilled the
glasses.
“And here’s to the Goddess of Liber
ty," cried Poe, turning toward the
gold glittering statue dimly outlined
in the harbor. “May every man who
deserves liberty have It.”
"That’s a funny toast,” said Bowen
awkwardly, glancing in slight confu
sion down into the water, where the
two fishermen were drifting astern.
”1 wonder how that figure of Lib
erty strikes a petty little smuggler
bringing in valuable goods to defraud
his country,” mused Poe, staring
ahead into the dim harbor.
Bowen glanced at him nervously.
"What’s come over you?” he asked
haltingly.
“Why, nothing,” replied the New
York banker, turning to gaae ingenu
ously into the shifting eyes of his com
panion. “I was just wondering how
you felt smuggling that Duchess Dia
mond.”
“How I feel!" Bowen’s eyebrows
drew down narrowly. His face sud
denly cleared, he glanced nervously
into the water, and then laughed full
in Poe’s face.
"And I’ve been wondering all along
how it would feel to be an amateur
detective who thinks he’s worked up
a case and wins a fellow’s friendship
just to betray him at the finish." His
upper lip curled contemptuously; he
glanced nervously back into the water.
"Oh, 1 knew you recognized me,”
said Poe. “Some of my baggage is
marked with C. P., and 1 knew that
wouldn't escape your shar eyes.
Youve called me Hardy with rather
elaborate exactness, thinking you had
a joke on me. 1 didn't miss it, nor did
I miss noticing your eagernes.; to have
the Van Wendts join that wild party;
I saw you were quick-handed, too.
when you spilled the sparks over Miss
Van Wendt, and nipped off the plati
num wire with your little nail-clippers,
on which 1 found the nick made in
cutting the chain. The hanti is quick
er than the eye, but not quicker than
the imagination.’
“What the devil do you mean?" cried
Bowen, putting down his glass, and
turning with his back to the rail. “Do
you accuse me of stealing the Duchess
Diamond?”
“Yes, and with attempting to smug
gle it into New York.”
“Where have I got it concealed
then?" cried Bowen, his hand sneak
ing toward his hip-pocket.
“Oh, don’t trouble to find that little
peart-har.<lled gun. I’ve seen it bulg
ing out beneath your coat before. Look
over there. Do you see that officer ir
white and thofee three in blue?" P>
pointed to a crowd of customs offirt .
who h^d just climbed up to the ship’s
deck from the doctor’s boat, and were
already coming toward them.
Bowen a expression changed to one
of terror.
“I cabled a friend of mine in New
York to send customs house officers on
board at quarantine, and take you be
fore you succeeded in smuggling in the
Duchess Diamond.”
“But I haven’t got it; I never did
have it. You can’t prove a thing,”
cried Boven excitedly, leaning threat
eningly toward Poe.
Poe turned, and signaled to the cus
toms-house men. who hurried up. He
replied evenly to Bowen:
Of course you haven’t it now; but
! suspected your interest in those
thick-necked wine-bottles. I noticed
the corks were unusually large, and I
sxperimented with one in my room
One of those corks would nicely con
ceal a big stone like the Duchees.”
"But I have thrown all the corks
away!” cried Bowen desperately, as
the customs-house officers quietly sur
rounded him.
"Yes, you just threw the one con
taining the stone into the water, and
your fishermen accomplices have
picked it up by now and are making
for shore this minute. Look!” He
put hie hand on Bowen’s shoulder, and
pointed toward the fishermen’s boat,
making for shore. At that moment a
trim gray launch flying the police flag
leaped out from behind the stern of
the great ocean liner, and In a minute’s
time overhauled the big dory with the
two dazed pseudo fishermen.
Bowen trembled as he saw the police
board the boat and search his accom
pllces. He saw them remove, after a
struggle, a small object from the coat
pocket of the larger fisherman. Then
Bowen turned to hie captors, and, his
arms slack and limp, his lips quivering,
said, "You’ve got me.*’ His shifting
eyes sought Foe’s. “But how the devil
did you know I planned to throw the
cork overboard right here at quaran
tine?”
“That was easy,” smiled the banker,
as the officials in white slipped hand
cuffs over Bowen’s wrists. “After 1
surprised you sending long code mes
sages I questioned you about the boat,
and found that you knew we slowed
down at quarantine. I felt that was
the most logical place for you to throw
over the little cork. Your fishermen
could row close while the doctor was
being picked up, and if you threw the
cork carefully it might land right in
the boat, or at least near enough so
it would float until they could pick it
up, unseen because the crowd would be
watching the officials boarding on the
other side. That is all. I just took a
chance, same as you did when you
pulled off that carefully planned little
party of yours on the Grand canal.”
On landing at the dock in New
York, Christopher Poe looked for his
Sriend Burns, anxious to clasp his
hand after the lengthy parting, and
thank him for his assistance in cap
turing Bowen.
Finding no trace of Burns, Poe went
to a telephone booth on the dock
board, and called his friend's office.
"Hello, that you, Poe?” came a
cheery voice from the other end.
“Yes,” exclaimed Poe. “I missed
you at the dock. Couldn't you make
it?”
“No. Mitchell called me away just
half an hour before you were due.
Everything all right?”
“Yes, fine. They got him at quaran
tine all right, thanks to your long-dis
tance work.”
“Oh, that wasn't anything." an
swered Burns. “But tell me, did you
get any rest at all on the trip? I'm
mighty glad you're back 6afe.”
“No rest to speak of,” said Pou
quickly. "Two er three other job!
turned up. But 1 got a change, any
way, and I guess that's a rest. I swear
I'll never tackle another mystery. This
chap Bowen turned on me, and called
me an 'amateur detective.' In spite of
all the care I've taken. I'm afraid I’m
becoming known. I'm going to give it
up. It’s a thankless job.”
“Wait!” cut in Burns anxiously.
“Mitchell has a job for us. I’ve just
got the retails. There's a clever band
of scratchmen forging drafts in Chica
go. I’ve got reservations on the eigh
teen-hour train. Can you make it?"
“Yes,” answered Poe eagerly. “My
grip is through the custojns already.
‘Volume H’ is in it. I won’t need any
thing else. I can get to a taxi in two
minutes. What time does the flyer
leave?”
FOOD PRICES AND THE WAR
Bureau of Labor Statistics Has Made
an Exhaustive Study of the
Entire Subject.
The effect of the war upon the cost
of living in foreign countries has Just
been made the subject of a report by
the bureau of labor statistics of the
department of agriculture at Washing
ton. Prices are given for 18 coun
tries, and there are cards from over
100 cities, towns and consular dis
tricts.
The report shows that the first ef
feet of the war was the same p.acti
cally throughout Europe. it* out
break was followed by a sharp rise in
prices, due mainly to panic and un
certainty. In some countries legis
lative measures were at once taken to
check this rise, in others the govern
ment strictly adhered to a hands-off
policy and trusted to the natural
course of events for. readjustment
Within a fortnight the first panic was
over, and. except in the actual war
zone, prices began to fall. In most
places, however, prices did not drop
to the July level, and alter an inter
val again took an upward turn, which
has probably not yet reached its cli
max.
Administrative and legislative
measures to check the rise in tlie
cost of necessaries were very gen
erally taken. Denmark. Egypt. Great
Britain, Italy, Russia, Spain and Tur
key prohibited the export of practi
cally all foodstuffs. France. Norway
and Sweden listed certain articles
which must not be exported, and Hol
land placed an embargo on butter and
cheese.
Good Business.
"Americans have four great and
good habits upon which their present
prosperity is established. These
habits are: Health habit, study habit,
work habit and play habit.” That is
what Yozo Nomura. Japanese commis
sioner to the Panama-Pacific expnsl
tion, said when he returned to Yoko
hama from San Francisco and report
ed to Japanese business men upon his
trip. Yozo Nomura Is, obviously
enough, a diplomat. With Americans,
he continues, "business is no It nger
exploitation, but service. The Amer
ican principle is that business pros
pers when it answers the needs of the
people and enhances human happi
ness.” We don’t reprint these com
pliments because they are deserved:
they aren't. And yet, just after writ
ing these words, we picked up a copy
of the directions given to their em
ployees by an ice company in the
West:
"Be courteous. Remember, every ice
man is supposed to be a thief until
he has proved his honesty."
And again this gleam of advice: If
the Iceman "happens” to cut the piece
a little short, he should confess to
his customer “and then bring a larger
piece next time and draw her atten
tion to that also " Perhaps the Japa
nese diplomat isn’t so wrong after
all "No longer exploitation, but
service. • • ■” Think it over.—Col
lier’s Weekly.
Went Unnoticed.
“What is your opinion of Boston?”
“I was agreeably surprised on my
first visit to that town.”
•‘Yes.”
“Just for an experiment I split an
nflnltive, but there was nothing like
i riot precipitated.”
TOWN PLANNING IN AUSTRALIA
Antipodeans Show Wise Interest in
Subject and Profit by Experience
of Older Countries.
Australians are showing a wise in
terest in the subject of town planning
and housing in general. The trouble
with older countries has been that
they have not begun to think much
about improving housing conditions
until housing conditions have got to
be insufferably bad. Australia, being
a young country, should be able to
profit by the unfortunate example of
other countries, and it is apparent that
Australia is striving to do this.
Building, an Australian publication,
devotes much space to this subject. Al
luding, for example, to the direction of
the movement in Victoria by the Town
Planning and Parks’association, these
activities are described as intelligent,
enthusiastic and energetic. “The flow
of active campaigning established.” it
\ppears, “threatens altogether to i
swamp the slum and its wedded evils >
beyond the hope of re-establishment.
“The association, very sensibly, is
enlisting the sympathy and support of
the masses by alert regard for their
well being. The essentials of the move
ment bear directly on the existence of
that section of the people whom cir
cumstances have handicapped. This the
association recognizes. Settled evils
which primarily deny the common her
itage of sunlight are being squelched.
Conditions of living scarcely befitting
the brute creation, but to which human
flesh and blood are subjected, are be
ing swept way as speedily as the pon
derous arm of the law can be operated.
In brief, the movement in Victoria, di
rected by the Town Planning and
Parks’ association, is making good.
“The association is makirg a special
point of making plain the principles of
town planning to those in the position
of facilitating reform. For instance,
the mayors and councilors of the mu
nicipalities and shires were recently
circularized on the new and extensive
powers conferred upon local governing
bodies, by recent amendments of the
act A portion of that circular reads:
“ ‘It is hoped that advantage will be
taken at once of these powers—ap
plied. perhaps, in conjunction with
building regulations to avoid the crea
tion of slum or insanitary areas. In
this connection St. Hilda council has
recently passed a by-law providing for
a minimum area, devoted exclusively
to open space, for each dwelling equal
I to at least eight-eighteenths of that f
occupied by dwelling and outhouses.’ ” 't
COMMUNITY PRIDE AN ASSET
The Town That Cares for Its General
Appearance U the Town That
Will Prosper.
Community pride is an asset, and it
is one of the greatest of all assets.
The town that improves its streets,
cleans up the alleys, paints the houses,
cuts the grass, rakes the lawns and
plants its flowers is not only encour
aging cleanliness, but is making for
itself a name among the peoples of
the outer world.
Commercial travelers and others
come, and look, and go away and talk
—and the talk is all in favor of the
town and its people.
Talk travels, and grows, and mul
tiplies until the town becomes known
in many climes for its cleanliness and
progressiveness.
In time other men who are looking
for a change of location hear of this
town—and then they go, and look, and
talk, and are pleased, and it becomes
their home.
And the town continues to expand
and progress, and as the years roll by
it gradually assumes larger propor
tions and a more commanding and
dominating position In the world.
When Community Pride comes in
Prosperity enters by its side, and the
two become the mighty levers that
control the machinery of success.
Personal Pride and Community
Pride should march side by side, for
when these two potent factors join
hands in a laudable purpose opposi
tion quickly melts away.—Laredo
Record.
Signs That Save.
A decided decrease in the number
of traffic accidents is reported from
Portland, Ore., since the installation
there of a comprehensive system of
warning signs. The signs consist of
red steel dials 18 inches in diameter
mounted on steel rods sunk three feet
in concrete at the curbs and standing
eight feet deep on the top of the dial.
The dials are painted bright red with
black letters, and read: “School, Care
ful,” “Caution, Bridge,” “Caution,
Steep Grade.” “Danger, Drive Slowly.”
"Hospital. Quiet.” “Caution, Fire Sta
tion.” “Danger. No Outlet.” “Cau
tion. Dangerous Corner,” and so on.
The signs are set in pairs about 100
feet from the danger point and in all
street directions from It, and are so
placed that the street lights will shine
upon them at night. Portland has a
population of about 20,000 greater
than Rochester, and embraces more
than twice the area of this city.—
Rochester Post-Express.
Different Times.
"The girls used to keep me waiting
when I drove up in a buggy, i notice
they never keep you waiting long when
you drive up in a motor car’” "Whv
is that?” “The girls know how quick
ly a model gets out of date as well
as we *>.’’ eu
Uncle Eben.
Some men” said Uncle Eben
good natured because dey don’t
ghat’s ffoin’ on an’ some ?s dlt^T
because dey’, got too muck sense *
•ke notice of whut dey can’t help.’*
jr^
