Mrs. Wilson Woodrow

“ ONE hot night in August Westerveldt ran out from town to dine with his friends the Hattons, who lived all the year around at Wheaton, that delightful suburban town with its handsome houses set in emerald lawns and gay gardens, its wide streets shaded by great elm-trees and swept always by cool sea-breezes. ”

“ Westerveldt’s loosely clasped hands hung between his knees, his eyes were on the rug at his feet. At her words, his head sank a little lower. Presently, he lifted it and brushed back the hair from his brow with an impatient gesture.
“What am I going to do?” he cried. “You both knock everything I suggest instead of giving a little helpful advice. Great Heavens! Think of my position! What am I in her eyes but a thief—just a common thief, who took occasion to carefully examine her jewels, select the best, and return the others to her with grandiloquent virtue? Ugh! And she knows who I am. ”

“ This was the more reasonable theory, Westerveldt felt.
He saw the whole picture. The burglar, in the act of looting the lady’s safe, fancied he heard a noise. He dared not conceal his booty on his person, and glancing desperately about him, saw the lady’s stocking—the first thing at hand. Hastily he thrust the jewels into it, rolled it into a compact ball, and threw it out of the window, trusting to luck to make his own stealthy escape, and gather up his eccentrically concealed treasure from the lawn in his flight. ”

“ Not for long did Westerveldt ever dwell in gloom. Being an inventor, a successful one at that, who had succeeded in convincing the world of the practicality of a fair number of his ideas, he was a young man of infinite resource, and he had sufficient faith in himself to feel sure that he would, in one way or another, have no difficulty in gaining all the information he desired. ”

“ Then Westerveldt arose with what dignity and lightness of demeanor he could summon, insisted upon taking the eleven o’clock train to town instead of remaining the night with his friends.
During the ensuing winter, he embarked seriously upon a search for a lost and lovely girl. It was the absorbing occupation of his leisure hours, and became a pursuit in itself, almost a mission. He went out socially more, far more than he had ever done before. He haunted the places where women do congregate. ”

“ A night of tender breezes and faint delicate flower scents, a night for high and tender romance, not sordid and brutal conflict.
“‘In such a night,’” murmured Westerveldt, “‘did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well.’” His voice trailed. He turned his eyes upward and strove to discern the stars; but by some queer “twist of vision, the Milky Way seemed to spread over the entire surface of the sky. He looked about him and beheld trees as men, walking. Odd, but of course an illusion of the moonlight. ”

“ Still standing stock-still in his square of moonlight, his outstretched hand full of glittering stones, Westerveldt ran rapidly over the probabilities of the situation. Only two hypotheses appealed to his sense of reason. The first was, that some one behind one of those dark windows had thrown the jewels out in a moment of anger. ”

“ Westerveldt smiled, and his face set in those grim lines which showed the force and determination which had been powerful factors in the success of his career. Anticipating thus the probable moves of the thieves, what should he do to checkmate them? No doubt the sensible and commendatory course would be to note carefully the exact situation of the house, and then taking advantage of a good start, make a dash for the Hattons, and assuming that he got there in safety, call at the robbed mansion the next morning and return to a distracted lady her purloined jewels. ”

“ The newspapers never deal with the most important topics. But wait!” He drew from his pocket a small leather case. “I invented the lock on this, at any rate. It has never left me, for I did not know what minute I might meet you, you see.”
He opened it and drew out the ruby. The pale February sun struggled through the clouds and shimmered over the lake and avenue, and the ring caught its fugitive gleams and held them in its sparkling facets. ”

“ At any rate it was not surprising, for really she blushed beautifully.
“But what have you been doing since we met?” hastily retreating to less dangerous ground. “Have you invented the mouse-trap with the lethal chamber, and the hairpins that will stay in? The newspapers tell how far and fast you have gone with your air-ships, but they don’t say anything about the other things.” ”

“ She was willing to lose a valuable ruby, in order to assist struggling genius minus a moral sense.” He bent his head upon his arm and shuddered.
Mrs. Hatton endeavored to console him by reiterating her belief that there was nothing to do but wait, absolutely nothing; and Joe, who had managed to extract a wealth of humor from the situation, crowned his offenses by urging Westerveldt, with all that joviality we bring to bear upon the troubles of our friends, to cheer up, accompanying this advice with a far too hearty slap between the shoulders. ”

“ At first, I thought it was all a dream, but alas, my remembrance was very soon confirmed by finding the jewels gone. So I threw on some things and ran down-stairs as fast as I could, hoping and praying that they had fallen on the lawn unnoticed and that I might find them without any difficulty. But I didn’t, and I was beginning to despair and feel dreadfully until I saw you sitting here. It was barely daylight, you know, and I could just make out the figure of a man sitting on the bench. ”

“ I am a poor struggling little actress, no heiress with a collection of jewels, I assure you. I had a good position last summer—I have none at all now—and in my part I had to wear a lot of jewels. Mrs. Weatherby is a classmate of mine, and she stopped at the theater one night last summer and insisted on my going down to Wheaton in her motor to spend the night, and she literally carried me off in costume, insisting that she would supply all necessities after I got there. But the jewels, the whole lot of them were paste. The whole lot of them! ”

“ Hatton gave a tiny shrug of the shoulders. “Oh, they had no end of tall, dark, pretty girls here all summer, interspersed with tall, light, pretty ones. Mrs. Weatherby was married when she was just out of college and she must have had her whole class here off and on.” She paused and reflected. “I do remember one especially attractive dark girl who was here just for a short time, a day or two. They said that she was a great heiress, an orphan, and had a wonderful collection of jewels inherited from her mother.” ”

“ Why, man alive!” to Hatton. “Don’t you see that I’ve got to get a cable to them and learn that girl’s address?”
“But how will they know whom you mean,” asked Mrs. Hatton, with simple feminine practicality, “since you haven’t the faintest idea of her name?”
This was staggering. Westerveldt grew rather white. “I could describe her so that they would know at once whom I meant,” he insisted eagerly. “She was dark, rather dark and tall—I think she was tall and—and lovely.” ”

“ Westerveldt pulled his watch from his pocket. “It is, and I must catch it. I haven’t even time to go back to the Hattons for my things; I'll wire Joe to bring them in with him on a later train,” thinking aloud. “I’ve got to run.” ”

“ She probably thinks I’m one of those crazy inventors she’s read about who burn all the furniture up and pawn the last loaf of bread in the house in order that they may perfect their wonderful invention. ”