THE SUNDAY OREGOXIAX, rORTLAyP, AUGUST 16, 19QS. . .
Vj ;od i ii 11 r ' v v. i
! BcihS lh GKroniclcs
The Soul of the
HEN you hold that every crime
I admits of solution by purely
psychological processes?"
The speaker was Collins, friend of my
youth and well entitled. I believe, to his
reputation as the best police reporter In
New York.
No." continued Carlton Clarke to the
little company of newspaper men who
had foregathered with us at the old Mar
tin's after the theater: "not every crimo.
but the Immense majority. My argu
ment la that every act of man when he
transcends the normal leaves Its own
distinctive psychological Impress that
distinguishes one crime from all other
crimes. When these, theories, now In In
fancy, are better understood and applied,
the detection of crime will link with the
tudy of material clews the tracing of the
psychological processes of the subjective
mind that have led up to the felonious
act."
That already is done in the analysis
of motives." returned Collins.
"Doubtless, but what does your police
department detective 'know of the science
of the mind?"
"Not much. I'll admit: anyway. I should
like to see some of your 'theories put to
the test. I Imagine we should fall back
od the police In the end." replied Collins
as the party broke up.
Why Clarke and I had made a sudden
trip ffbm Chicago to New York I could
not fathom. It was Clarke's doing.
Business, lie said, but . beyond thfr dis
patch of several mysterious telegrams I
had failed to note anything but pleasure.
However, we were installed In one of
Washington square's best, boarding
houses, where Clarke was among old
friends' and the quiet and freedom of
which we both preferred to a hotel joom.
"I rather think you stumped them with
your theories, Clarke," I remarked as we
walked up Fifth avenue. "I wish we
might have draws you out further."
"I thought the psychological was all
they would assimilate without positive
violence. It wasn't worth while to hint
to their materialistic newspaper minds
the limitless possibilities of the psychic.
Tour friend Collins was particularly com
bative." "I wish mightily something would turn
up while we are here to convince him." I
replied. '
As.Jf In answer to my wish the clang
of a patrol wagon rang out on the crisp
night air. We, were Just under Washing
ton arch when the galloping horses
turned Into the square of Fourth street.
As we crossed the street they drew up
to the curb In front of a brown-stone
mansion. Out leaped a police officer
followed by six of his men.
"Come on. Sexton and Mr. Clarke."
cried Collins. - "Big case.'. Murder. Colo
nel James Watson Drexlau. retired.
Beastly rich, belongs to all the tip-top
clubs. Double-column head on the. first
page. Call came Just as I hit Mulberry
street. Beat the rest of the gang full
30 minutes. All right. Inspector Clancy;
friends of mine.
The Inspector and I have worked to
gether before." quickly remarked Clarke.
"Well. If It Isn't Dr. Clarkel Yes. I'll
never forget that tip you gave me on
the Kanthan case ten years ago." I was
a captain then, and it won my promo
tion." By this time we were up the winding
toop and at the carved walnut door
where .we were admitted by an aged,
white-faced butler. The Inspector left his
men at the door and we entered a mag
nificent drawing-room. At Its rear. Just
In front of a white pllastered archway
leading to a library, lay a tall man with
white hair and whiskers. He was In
evening dress and across the broad, white
expanse of shirt bosom swept a crimson
'tain like the ribbon of the Legion ot
Honor.
Over the prostrate figure, his ear to the
stethoscope, bent a physician. At his
head, her hand smoothing the white locks
"upon the fast chilling brow, crouched a
woman clad in a house gown of pale
blue. She waa young, black-haired and
beautiful, but seemed crushed by the
knowledge of the blow that must fall with
the doctor's reluctant decision.
Terror-stricken maids and men servants
were running aimlessly about. The but
ler, who followed us In, stood silent and
helpless. In the dark recess of tile lib
rary a bowed figure sat with his head In
his hands.
-I can do nothing. He has been dead
for some minutes." said the rhystclan.
rising. The girl gave, a wild shriek and
fell limply to the floor.
"Miss Drexlau must be carried to her
room," he commanded. "She has only
fainted, but she must be guarded against
the shock of awakening."
"I'll carry her," said a firm, resonant
voice. The bowed figure emerged from
the darkness of the library: a cleanly
built, tall young man in evening dress,
who picked up the girl as gently and eas
ily aa If she were a child. Calling to a
aobblng maid end followed by the doc
tor, he bore h! burden out and up the
broad stairway. We stood respectfully
aside and let the little procession pass.
Then Clancy made a great show of
energy.
"Knife wound. He couldn't have lived
many minutes. No weapon visible. Here,
butler. Where's the "phone?"
Geting tne coroner's office on the wire
he asked for a deputy at once, and then
proceeded to extract what Information he
could from the frightened butler, the only
member of the household who seemed to
have retalaed a semblance of composure.
"Your name?" he demanded, when we
had retired to the library away from the
grim, prostrate figure In the drawing
room. Thomas Fogarty. sir.
"Now. Fogarty. tell ua what you know
of-this business."
Well, that's not much, sir: but about
midnight I let In Miss Katherine and Mr.
Harcamp."
Full name?"
"Mr. Ranleigh Harcamp. They went In
to the drawing-room, and presently Dr.
Drexlau came out of the library. Tou
go oa to bed. Fogarty,' says Mr. Drexlau
to me. I stopped a bit In the hall to
wind tie clock, and then went to my
room, which is at the top of the house,
back. I didn't go to bed right away,
having a good book to read. Quite a bit
afterwards I thought I heard the front
door, and I wondered If It was Mr. Har
camp leaving. But I might have been
mistaken, as It's a long way to my room.
'Then along after another spell I hears
a noise like somebody falling. I rushes
-mh.t down, and there waa Mr. Drexlau ,
Blue Bokhara
lnylng right where he is now, and Mr.
Harcamp bending over him. ;
" 'Get a doctor, qufek.' says Mr. Har
camp, "and don't wake Miss Drexlau. Mr.
Drexlau has b?en stabbed.'
"As quick as I could get my senses back
I went to the telephone. Then I thought
It looked more like a case for the police
than the doctor, and seeing I couldn't do
nothing for Mr. Drexlau. 1 called up the
station. Mr. Harcamp gave me particu
lar fits when I told him what I'd done.
The doctor came first and Mr Drexlau
was still alive. He roused up once and
spoke to me while I was holding his
head. Then Miss Katherine found out
something was wrong and came down.
Then you came." .
"You say Mr. Drexlau spoke. What
did he say?" eagerly queried the In
spector. "He Just says 'the Blue Bokhara': that
was all."
"But what on earth Is the 'Blue Bok
hara? " -
"It's a rug. sir. Mr. Drexlau was a
regular crank on . Oriental rugs. That's
a Feraghan you're' standing on. That big
one in the drawing-room's a Kerman
shah; that long one's a Tabriz, and the
little ones around the walls are Persian
silks. There's a lot more I don't know
the names of.' I thought Mr. Drexlau
was fiiphty talking about the 'Blue Bok
hara' till I looked about and saw It gone.
I guess one of the maids must have taken
It out to dust and forgot to put it back."
"Welt, never mind all that. You're
probably right. It's not robbery, any
way, or they'd have taken more than Just
a rug. Now look here, Fogarty, who's
tis man Harcamp?"
"Why he's the . one that carried Miss
Katharine out. He's one of her friends
and lives somewhere up on the avenue
Lots of money. I hear.
"And he -and Mr. Drexlau were not
on very aood terms, I guess?"
"Well, Inspector, I don't like to say
anything to make trouble, but Just as
I left the hall after winding the clock I
thought Mr. Drexlau and Mr. Harcamp
were having some words, and Miss
Katherine was crying."
"That will do. Fogarty. I've no
doubt you've said too much already."
said a voice from the hallway, and
Ranleigh Harcamp stood before us.
Even Clancy, the hero of many a third
degree, was taken aback,
"So you were discussing myself and
Miss Drexlau," continued Harcamp,
coldlv. "I suppose you are only doing
your duty, but you will kindly keep her
name out of this case. It will do po
possible good."
The door bell rang. It was the Cor
oner's deputy, accompanied by a horde
of reporters. These latter overran the
drawing-room and library seeking to
make up in energy the time they had
lost." Collins had already scored a clean
scoop by telephone In his regular city
edition, leaving nothing to his rivals
but the "morning glories." so he sug
gested that we escape to the conser
vatory. . "Why doesn't your friend Clarkedo
something?" he said to me when we
were out of the confusion. "He hasn't
said a word and I'm beginning to.thlnk
all this talk of his wonderful power of
solving mysteries Is a Chicago brand
of hot air."
"Just wait." I returned. "He will
give you a good story yet. I have no
doubt he has already, found out more
than your Inspector of police. Here
he comes now.
"What do you make of It. Clarke?"
I asked, as he -Joined us. "Mr. -Collins
Is disappointed that you haven't al
ready pointed out the murderer and
turned him over to Clancy."
"Well, the case is as plain as day up
to a certain point, and then one little
thing comes In and upsets It alto
gether. Let s see what the inspector
makes of It first. Ah. here he Is now.
Bad business. Inspector, but I suppose
you - begin to see through It by this
time. Our Chicago police could learn
a few lessons here."
"O. there's nothing to It." returned
Clancy, pompously. "It'a as plain as
the nose on your face. This chap Har
camp can clear it all up If he want to.
He either did it himself or knows who
did. and Is shielding somebody. There's
hardly evidence to arrest him. but he'll
not get out of the sight of my men. I
don't like dealing. with these howling
swells. You can't Just throw them In
and put them through In a workman
like manner like you ought to.- But
I expect to corner him and run his
head in a trap, and maybe a noose."
"Oh. you do," said Harcamp. Icily,
looming up suddenly In the avenue of
palms. "You see through It all. Your
perception is wonderful. Here is my
card. Inspector; You know wh,ere to
Arid me when you want me."
"I've a good mind to lock you up
now, sir." roared Clancy, reddening.
"But 1 guess you're right. I'll find
you."
r It was now far into the morning.
and dawn would soon be streaming In
through the windows. The deputy cor
oner had departed, having ordered Mr.
Drexlau's body removed to his bed
chamber. The doctor had left some
tlTne before, saying Miss Drexlau was
sleeping peacefully, oblivious to her
loss under the influence of an oplatn.
The reporters had hurried off to catch
recurring extras, leaving only a few
"dog watch" and bureau men. ' The
frightened servants had been dismissed,
and Fogarty was watching beside his
stricken master.
We had adjourned to the great drawing-room
away from the sickening
sweetness of the conservatory. I stud
led the quiet magnificence of the room
and tried to picture the scene that had
been enacted there but a few short hours
before. The rug which Mr. Drexlau had
stained with his life's blood had been re
moved and the room set In order. Noth
ing remained to tell of the great, grim,
dark thing that was busying the mind of
each. 1
If only they could tell what they had
seen, these works of the nimble, tireless
fingers of the East, that perhaps a hun
dred years before had woven the settings
of the tragedy; that Washington over the
huge, deep fireplace; that Corot; those
superb marines!
"If only they could apeak," I phrased,
mentally.
"Who knows: perhaps they may."
whispered Clarke, reading my unspoken
words, as only his marvelous mind could
do.
Silence had fallen upon the group.
Clancy fidgeted at the enforced Inactiv
ity. Finally he arose and stepped to the
door to give some Instructions to his
waiting men. The moment he waa gone
Clarke leaned , across to Harcamp,
seated upon the other side of me, and
whispered:
"No, I think you are making a mis
take. Mr. Harcamp. There Is much to
this case which you do not suspect."
"Great God. man, what do you know?"
said Harcamp. in an agonized whisper,
going white to the hair, and the terror
of death in his eyes.
"Everything and nothing." returned
Clarke, softly
"O: If I could only see a ray of hope,"
groaned Harcamp. 'Tell me what -you
know." '
"Not now; Clancy is coming back.
Come .to my rooms at 10 tomorrow. Here
is the address. You will be watched.
Evade the police. If possible."
Collins had been relieved by two men
from his office, and there being nothing
else to be done, we left and Harcamp
went with us. A crowd of morbid
curiosity seekers still lined the sidewalk
and as we separated from Harcamp a
man edged out of the line and fell into
step In his shadow.
"Fly cop," suggested Collins.
It needed no. second glance to show
that be was right and Clancy was en
ergetio according to his light.
. -
"Well, well. It's Fogarty now," ex
claimed Clarke, when after a few hours
sleep we were eagerly scanning the morn
ing extras over a hasty breakfast In our
room. .
There it was. displayed with all the
art of the head writer: 'Will Implicates
Butler."
The Instrument discovered among
Drexlau's papers by the energetic Clancy
bequeathed $10,000 to Thomas Fogarty,
provided that at the date of the tes
tator's death the said Fogarty had served
the estator faithfully for the term of 25
years or more. By" Fogarty's own ad
mission the limit of time had expired
but the week previous.
"Hum." muttered Clarke: "I was sure
of it." Then he read: " 'By close cross
questioning Inspector Clancy wrung from
Fogarty the unwilling admission that he
had returned to the lower part of the
house some time before Mr. Drexlau's
body was found. An arrest is hourly ex
pected.' "
As If In answer to Clarke's voice the
raucous cry of a newsboy In the street
was heard. .
"Wuxtry. Wuxtry. Arrest In big mur
der case."
Clarke hailed him from the wlndown.
Yes, it's the butler," he said, as he
spread the damp sheet out before us.
"Surely the police have no case against
him."
"Stronger . than you think. Even
Clancy does not realize how strong it Is.
So strong that I believe If It were not
for two things they could hang him."
'Then what two things are to prevent
them?"
"First, the opening of the door heard by
Fogarty."
"But you can count that as a weak
story."
"No, it Is borne out by other evidence."
"And second?"
"Second, the disappearance of the blue
Bokhara.'-
"But the maid may have removed It."
"And do you think that Drexiau. In
the face of death, was thinking of a
petty household matter? No, his words
had a deeper roaning, a meaning we
have got to discover. I have learned
something, but I haven't the master
key yet. While you and Collins were
in the conservatory I made a tour of
the house. I also had a talk with Fo
garty and discovered much that he
hasn't told the Inspector. He did come
down again- He waa eavesdropping in
the hall. Miss Drexlau had gone to
her room and Mr. Harcamp was in the
billiard room- I was In there and
found his tracks as plain as a printed
page. Mr. Drexlau then discovered
Fogarty. upbraided him, and doubtless
threatened to discharge him. His tem
per . f- - "-ort Just 'then. It
A Criminal jsyienas: f by. frank lovell nelson.
meant 110,000 "to Fogarty. There is
nothing to show that Drexlau was
again seen alive."
.'"Unless Miss Drexlau came down,
again, Clarke. Had you thought of
that?" '- ,
An expression of sadness crossed
Clarke's dark face. "I have thought of
everything," he said.
"And Harcamp is s-hieldlng someone.
He wouldn't shield Fogarty." m
"Don't, . Sexton. It's inconceivable.
And. besides, it doesn't fit my theories
at all."
A knock on the door put an end to
our conversation. It was Collins, to
whom I had given a quiet tip to stay
with us through the case.
Another knock followed almost Im
mediately, and I admitted lianlelgh
Harcamp, whose face showed the first
smile I had seen him give wien he
related the ease with which he had
eluded Clancy's shadows.
We drew ourvchairs up to the table
from which the maid had removed the
breakfast .tray and Harcamp's face
again saddened as the conversation
turned to the one great, topic the trag
edy of the night.
"Now, Mr. Harcamp," began Clarke,
"I want you to tell us exactly what
happened last night."
"I cannot," said Harcamp, between
get teeth.
"Then I will have to tell you. Sit
down. Mr. Harcamp."
Harcamp had risen with an angry
gesture, but he sank into his chair
again, fascinated under the battery of
Clarke's piercing -eyes.
"When you and Miss Drexlau re
turned from the theater," continued
Clarke, "Mr. Drexlau met you and a
violent scene occurred-. Is that right?"
"Yes; I suppose Fogarty has told
you." i
"Miss Drexlau, at her father's orders
finally went to her room In tears."
"I see by the papers Fogarty was
eavesdropping," continued Harcamp.
"Then you and Mr. Drexlau cooled
down. He suggested that you go Into
the billiard room and arausj yourself
while he smoked a cigar, and maybe
you would both see things In a differ
ent light. You became Interested In
practicing some difficult masse shot
and stayed for some time."
"How in the name of heavens do you
know all that?" -
"Very simple. Balls carefully placed
In line along the side rail, tip of cue
badly damaged, your fingers covered
with chalk. You were Just about to
attempt . the shot after repeated fall
urea when you heard Mr. Drexlau fall.
You rushed into the hall and saw flee
ing up the stairs "
Harcamp rose with clenched fists an'd
white face. "Stop; you liel No man
on God's earth knows whom I saw."
"Ha, I thought I was right. You saw
Miss Drexlau." , .
Harcamp groaned and burled his face
In his hands. "She didn't do it. Sh
didn't do It. O! why didn't I confess
to it and save her?"
Clarke went over and laid a hand on
his shoulder. "Now, brace up, Har
camp," he said. "It may not be as bad
as you think. There is ie thing that
may save her."
"The blue Bokhara," answered Clarke.'
Just then a- messenger arrived with a
telegram. It was for Clarke and he tore
It open feverishly. As he read his face
broke Into a smile of triumph.
"At last I can act." he cried. "Quick,
Mr. Collins", call a cab. You know fhe
nearest stands. Mr. Harcampr we will
save her." .
Collins was soon at the door with a
carriage. Clarke gave the driver his di
rections and we all got 'in. '
"Where are we bound for?" I asked.
"We are in pursuit .of the .blue Bok
hara," was all that Clarke would vouch
safe. .
Wa drew up before a large store in
Broadway devoted exclusively, to OrlenS
tal rugs, and hurried in. " . "
"Did you ever see a blue Bokhara?"
asked Clarke of the proprietor. ,
"Yes." he replied, "but we haven't one.
In fact I never saw but one 1 believed
was genuine, and that didn't bring very
good luck to .the man that bought it.
Kfor I hear he's Just been murdered. '
"Yes, yes, that's the one!" said'CIarke,
exultantly. -
"Did he get it here?"
"No. he didn't. He picked It up from
a small dealer, but there was considera
ble talk about it among rug men. and I
went around to see It. 'I've seen many
so-called blue Bokharas.but never one
like this. It was the softest shade of
blue and of the finest wool mixed with
silk. The sheen was perfect."
. "Yes, yes." interrupted Clarke, "but
can you tell me the name of the shop
that sold It?" v
"Certainly; It was Agnossl's, on lower
Washington street; but he hasn't any
thing like It. Let me show you some
particularly fine Bokhara's I have Just
Imported." . "
But we were gone on our way to Ag
nossl's before he recovered from his
surprise, I suspect.
Agnoss! was a dark-eyed Armenian who
kept a small stock, He was proud of
having sold the most wonderful rug in
New York, proud of having known the
murdered man and anxious to tell all
about both.
"But while It was in your hands did
you repair' It?" asked Clarke, interrupt
ing his flow of description.
"Oh, no, gentlemen. It was perfect,
perfect. I have been dealing In rugs all
my life and"
"But haven't you even a- thread of It;
even a strand of wool?.
"Why, no. You ask funny questions.
More funny than young man who came
here every day I got the rug and ask the
price and cry when I tell him I sold It
to Mr. Drexlau. And . to think of Mr.
Drexlau so soon. killed! I like to have
the pick of his rugs. It make me rich."
".From whom did you get the rug?"
broke in Clarke.
The Armenian's eyes kindled with sus
picion, What for you want to know
that?" he said.
"We've no time to waste," said Clarke
angrily, and he held the native with Ms
eyes while he made some quick passes
before his face. The Armenian's eyes
rolled and his muscles stiffened In the
first stages of hypnosis. Clarke snapped
his fingers and Agnossi same out of it
with a start and a look of terror.
"Now," said Clarke, "tell me where
you got the rug or I'll put the spell on
you and leave you that way."
"Oh. I'll tell, I'll tell." said the fright
ened Oriental. "I had it of Israel
Fangbone, in Pell street."
"A well-known fence," said Collins.
"If we find you've been lying I'll
come back and look Into your head and
see everything you've ever done," warned
Clarke.
"Oh, gentlemen. I tell the truth; and
listen, I did repair it. Fangbone. he
cut a little piece out df It. such a little
piece. I weave it In and Mr. Drexlau
try to match the wool and get some
fake ones made."
"A scheme that you doubtless sug
gested." said Clarke. "Now, haven't
you that piece?"
"Oh, no; gentelmen. I glf you my
word of honor. Fangbone he have it."
"Then to Pell street;" commanded
Clarke.
"I'm afraid you'll find Fangbone a
tougher proposition than the Arme
nian." said Collins when we were once
more lnthe cab.
"If he is a strong character his weak
point is the more vulnerable," replied
Clarke. "When I see him I will know
where to attack." ,
. Fangbone in trnth was a veritable
Fagin. 'He treated us with twisting,
truculent hands, which seemed to Itch,
and his inky-black beard to' bristle at
the gain that might be derived from
such a presentable set of rounders as
he took us to be.
"Somedlngs I can show you, shentle
mens? Some moneys you want, may
be? -1 haf it."
Clarke made a careful survey of his
antagonist. "Yes. Fangbone, it's money.
Twenty dollars on this." and Clarke
took a diamond ring from his finger
and laid it In the moist, outstretched
palm.
Fangbone examined It critically, but
with greedy eyes. "You haf come by
It honestly?" he asked.
"Of course. You'll be safe enough
anyway. It's easily worth two hun
dred and I may never redeem It."
"Not redeem Id?" said Fangbone in
surprise.
"No, I wouldn't wear it again. It's
kisheff. I had it of this man Drexlau
who was killed last night, and I Just
heard he had a blue Bokhara rug that
was kisheff and it killed him."
"You say the blue Bokhara Is a kish
eff? Who dell you dat?".
"Thaida told me."
Clarke whispered It impressively.
Fangbone's eyes opened in wonder.
"Thaida dell you? You know Thaida,
an' she say dere is kisheff on the blue
Bokhara?" .
"Yes, Thaida says It was the blue
Bokhara that killed Drexlau. She says
every thread of It is kisheff, cursed by
Adonal and haunted by the 72 spirits
of the great Solomon. She says the
only way to escape a violent death is
to part with the object to the first man
you meet. If you can't sell It give it
away. We've Just come from Thaida."
A look of fear stole over Fangbone's
forbidding countenance and his eyes
wandered involuntarily toward a draw
er back of the counter in front of
which we were standing.
.. ."Here dake Id, dake Id, qvlck!" he
said, thrusting the ring at Clarke. "I
will haf nodding to do vid id. Thaida
she know. She is wise in de black
magic as In de white. Tank Gott I
find id oudt in time."
"I was a fool to tell you," said
Clarke, regretfully. "Oh, well, Thaida
wasnlt right sure about the ring. It
was Inly the rug sne was sure of."
"Failure." said Collins as we returned
to the cab . wlilc we had left half a
block away,
"Success," answered Clarke.
As soon as we were beyond the line
of vision from the Interior Clarke
stopped and accosted a typical Pell
Street hobo. "Here, my man." he said,
"want to make half a dollar? Well,
wander into Fangbone's, take whatever
he gives you, bring it to me and you
get your money." The hobo hurried
off and Clarke's scheme began to dawn
upon me. In a few minutes he was
back. "Here's wat de -sheeny give me.
Now, Where's the mazuma?"
Clarke handed him the money and in
return the man placed in Clarke's hand
a square inch of the blue Bokhara.
"Superstition, his ruling passion, and
a powerful name In the Ghetto." quiet
ly remarked Clarke. "Now the solu
tion is In our grasp."
We did not inquire -.vhlther we were
going as we whirled through dark, for
bidding streets, but-even with my lim
ited knowledge of the metropolis, I
knew It. was still the Ghetto.'
We stopped before one of those old
fashioned New York houses. . once the
home of fashion and yet to be found in
the lower East side. Clarke sent up his
card and we were admitted to a drawing
room, furnished in a quiet magnificence
that contrasted strangely with the squal
or and degradation all about. ,
The silken portieres parted and there
stood before us the most beautiful woman
It has ever been my lot to see; Her
black costume, rather plainly cut, yet
fitting like a glove; her raven hair, and
her big lustrous black eyes formed a
perfect contract to her marble forehead:
her cheeks of olive white1, surcharged
with the pink of health, and her full red
smiling lips, through, which showed teeth
that seemed to glisten and radiate their
whiteness. The nose was- pure Grecian,
noble, yet delicate. A diamond sunburst,
her only Jewelry, blazed at the white
throat. Lovely women I have seen of
many nations, but never loveliness like
this.
Clarke started up and took a step
toward her. Their eyes met.
"Thaida!" '
"Carlton!"
"You had my wires?"
"Not until I got home this morning.
I've been away. And you mine?"
"It has brought me and my friends.
Let them be your friends, Thaida!"
"They are well recommended,',' she said
as she took the hand of each and heard
our names. I believe every man's blood
tingled as he touched that queenly hand.
I know mine did.
Thaida, we have need of you." then
continued Clarke. '.'I heard that since
me met you have become skilled in psy
chometry." "It is true that the 'soul of things' have
voices for me unheard by ordinary mor
tals. The new science of Professor Den
ton Is not unknown to me. Is the affair
urgent?"
"It is urgent." .,
"Then prepare me.
Thaida seated herself and Clarke gazed
steadily into her eyes for a few moments.
Her muscles became tense, . her face pal
lid and her eyes glassy, and then they
closed in what appeared to be the sleep of
nature. Clarke took the square 'of blue
Boghara from his pocket and pressed it
against ber forehead.
"Do you see, Thaida?"
"I see," came the rich, subdued voice.
"What see youi" -
"I see a richly appointed drawing-room.
Oriental rugs cover the floor. Over the
fireplace Is a picture of Washington. A
white pllastered archway leads Into a
library and that opens Into a conserva
tory. Three persona are there. One Is
an old man, one a young man and one a
woman, young, slender and black of hair.
They seem- to be disputing and tile old
man Is greatly excited. At last he points
to the door and his daughter yes, It is
his daughter goes out In tears, with one
last supplicating look at the men. There
they part, not all in anger, as the father I
seems to weaken at tne signt or his
daughter's tears. The young man goes
out through the library and the aged man
lights a cigar and walks the drawing-
room with bowed head, hls'hands behind
his back.
"He halts In his walk and listens. He
slips across the room on tiptoe, tears open
the portiere at the hall door and drags
out a little old man. He Is a servant. The
master of the house upbraids the cring
ing menial and then points to the door.
The little old man goes out. The tall
man resumes his restless walk, blowing
rings of smoke and now and then glanc
ing at his watch and from that to ths
door. He expects some one. . At last
he stops. He listens. He hears a step.
He goes out Into the hail to the front
door and flings It open. A dark, muffled
form enters."
"Mark well this man, Thaida. What la
he like?"
"He Is dark, very dark. He Is
emaciated. His face is drawn with suf-.
fering. His clothes are In rags, yet'
bis bearing Is proud and noble. They
pass Into the drawing-room. The dark
man Is pleading . with . clasped hands.!
The old man laughs scornfully. The
dark figure offers him something. lC
Is money. The old man again repulses
him and points toward the door. The
dark man-still pleads with many pas
sionate gestures toward a blue rug of
surpassing beauty on the .floor. At
last the old man advances and raises
his hand as If to strike. There is a
quick blow, and a flash of steel. The
old man reels and. falls, clutching at
his breast. The dark man seizes the
rug and is gone Into the night." i
"Now the rug, Thaida, the rug. Fol-; .
low it. Trace it back to the making.'
What see you?"
"I see a little hut In Bokhara beside
the Samark and gate. I know the spot
well. Within the door a loom is,
placed and there, day by day, a maiden
weaves upon a rug. She Is .beautiful
as the night, and as she weaves a
youth (watches her and strokes the,
Inky braids of her hair while their,
eyes speak the tale of love that Is old
as this old world, yet ever new. j
"Day by day the maiden weaves.:
and as she weaves her fair bodyl
.wastes by degrees so small that herj
lover sees not the change. At last the!
final knot Is tied and the weft thrown
through the warp for the last time, and
with a sign and a look. of love the!
weaver falls Into his outstretched arms. J
"She has woven her soul Into thS
blue Bokhara.
"The youth wanders, the rug always!
with him, for It is his bride. He cornea
to this city. He is In want; he is starv.
lng. When near to death he pawns the!
rug that he may live. Then the change'
comes. He finds work, he makes money.l
Ha tries to redeem the rug, but the1
man to whom he pawned it Is a villlan.
He has learned the value of the rug;
and will not give It up for a great
price. The youth struggles and savesl
and denies himself everything until
at last he has the sum. At last he isi
able to buy the rug. only to find that
it Is sold to yeB, it Is the man who;
was slain. The youth seeks him out,
and, by the ruse that he has smuggled!
rugs for sale, gains entrance at mld-
night." -
"Where Is he now? Look well,;
Thaida."
"He is near." '
"The street, can you read It?"
"It Is Washington street. In the Ar-
menian quarter."
The number?" 1 ,
'Two hundred and sixty-eight" (
"The name?" v
"I cannot tell. Walt, he writes. He1
signs. 'Kareton Boyajian.' He faints.'
You must hasten If you see him." I
"The floor?" '
"It Is the garret. I am weary, Carl-
ton: make haste." j
"Enough, Thaida, Wake."
The eyes opened and smiled. '
"Have I helped?" she asked. !
"You" have made all clear. But we
must act now. Tomorrow I will rei
turn and tell you all. And, oh, Thaida,
that I may then persuade you to givs
up this sordid life, this preying upon
the ignorance and fear of the Ghetto."
' "You see the results luxury,
wealth, all that we longed for in the
old days. But come tomorrow."
The first act In the drama was
brief. We communicated with the In
spector and he met us on the way to
tle Washington street number In
Clarke's possession. This proved to
be a rickety tenement Under, the
guidance of the inspector, we entered
boldly and mounted five dingy flights
to the garret. A knock at the one
door brought no response and ws
pushed In as It was unlocked.
, There, on a miserable bed of straw,
his wasted body wrapped in the blue
Bokharra, lay a young Turkoman. By
the sickly light of one guttering can
dle It was plain that we were none too
soon, as the finger of death already
was upon his forehead.
Clarke stepped 'to him and gently
raising his head poured brandy down
his throat. His eyes roved until they
Hghted upon the uniform andstar of
the Inspector.
"You have come for me," he said
weakly. 'You are too late. I am go
ing to Join my love."
The last words ended in a gurgle
and he was dead In Clarke's arms.!
Starvation1 and want had done their
work. , r
We laid him gently down on the,
blue Bokhara. It was dull and luster-;
less. The glorlqus sheen was gone.!
Yet I could have sworn that when I
entered I saw it shimmering like satin1
in the candle light. !
"And if any further evidence Is
needed, Inspector, here It Is," eaid
Collins, as he picked from the straw
a. blood-stained sfJUctto.
t i
The blue Bokhara is on our floor!
now and Clarke thinks that time and'
use will restore its wonderful luster.
We saw Miss Drexlau once more be
fore leaving New York, when elie
came with Ranleigh Harcamp to ex
press her thanks to Clarke. She was
in deep mourning, but even under her
burden of grief radiant with her new
found love.
"Had I only been a moment sooner
I might have saved him." she told us.
"I was ready for bed when I thought
of a box Qf candy I had left In the
hall. I threw on a loose house gown
and started down after It On the way
down I heard papa fall, but I thought
It. was a noise In the street Then I
heard Mr. Harcamp coming from the
billiard room and I flew back. Do you
know. Ranleigh, I thought but only
for a moment "
She could not' summon the courage
to say It I wondered If she would
ever know of his terrible, haunting;
fear.
Clarke went alone that afternoon to
make his promised call on Thaida.
When he returned he was humming a
little tune, a frivolous little tune for1
Clarke.
"Do you know, old chap, he said
"T begin to think this trip to New,
York win not Prove altogether a fall- .
ure."
"Then It was Tnaiaa mat Drougnt
us to New York?"
"Yes, Sexton. It was Thaida." and,
a pang of Jealousy, jealousy of them!
both, Bhot through me. '