Lincoln County leader., March 13, 1908, Image 7

A- s,-- 4 .--w-w-
The Roupell Mystery
By Austyn Granville
CHAPTER XIX. (Continued.)
"But it Is quit likely that she would
five us any clew to the whereabouts of
one who was almost a son to ber. Be
sides, I thought you said you couldn't
find Madame La Seur."
"I had some difficulty at first: but I
bave had one of my men on the track for
the past two days. He now reports her
as residing in Belleville. I shall move
up into that neighborhood to-night, and
commence my investigations. In the
meantime I want you to continue to
watch Monsieur Chabot and report what
steps our deluded friend the prefect of
police is taking."
So they parted, Cassagne to his lodg
ings to assume such a dress as would
harmonize with the bumble quarters of
the town where be proposed to pursue
bis investigations, D'Auburon to his club,
where he bad an appointment with M.
Jules Chabot, and in whose company be
would presently rejalr to the drawing
rooms of the Vicomte and Vlcom tease de
Valair.
At about half past eight the next even
ing, anyone who bad taken the trouble
to look might bave seen enter tbe Rue
Banquiere by its western end, a man
dressed in rough garments, who looked
like a well-to-do workman, with bis heavy
shoes and lime-bespattered corduroys. He
wore no collar on his check cotton shirt,
tut nro'- h i-Hi-oar was 1vly tied a
red pocket handkerchief. A bag contain
ing a few tools was slung over his shoul
der. .
Presently be stopped, ostensibly to pur
chase some fruit, which a hawker in one
of the barrows in tbe middle of the street
was vociferously offering for sale. As
be stood there chatting in a friendly way
with tbe peddler, however, bis gaze In
reality fixed upon a scene before him
unique even among the curious phases of
life to be encountered lu tbe Rue Ban
quiere. In a shop which in point of size was
double at least that of either of Its ad
joining neighbors, a crowd of the very
poorest of Belleville bad gathered. There
must bave been thirty or forty men, wom
en and children Inside the doors, at the
very least, and as many more waiting out
side on tbe pavement.
Over this shop swung a sign-board, on
both sides of which was painted the figure
of man-cook, in a white cap and apron,
industriously carving an unnaturally red
round beef; and underneath, apparently
unharmed by the steam and the gravy,
for it was plainly to be read, was the
democratic legend, "I carve for the peo
ple." Inside tbe shop a gentleman similarly
habited, but a trifle less corpulent and
Signified than bis counterfeit presentment
on tbe sign, was at that moment actually
engaged in the very occupation which the
legend advertised. He was engaged In
carving for the people.
In place, however, of operating upon
round of beef, be was engaged in slic
ing, whh great rapidity, a meat pudding.
This pudding Itself, apart from the hun
gry crowd waiting to devour it, was an
object worth looking at. It was at least
five feet long and as thick as a ship's
cable. As the cook cut off a slice, a
stout woman of about fifty-five years of
age would seize It, wrap it up in a piece
of newspaper, and hand it to someone in
the crowd, not letting go of the appetiz-
Ing morsel, however, until she had re
ceived in exchange therefor two coins In
copper, a great heap of which lay in a
drawer beside her.
The workman at the huckster's barrow
finished his apple and bought another.
The Intent gaze which he kept fixed upon
the cook shop at length attracted the at
tention of the vender
"You seem to be amused," he said.
"Have you never seen a pudding cut be
fore?"
"Not such a pudding as that," replied
the man with ths bag. '"It's quite a sight.
ain't It? Why, there's another."
"That's nothing. They'll - keep that
thing up for an hour yet. Old Mother
. Merchant's puddings bave a reputation,
I tell you, In the Rue Banquiere." -
"The shop, then, belongs to Madame
Merchant, who, I suppose, Is that old
lady?" -
"Yea, and not only tbe shop, but the
bouse as -well. She has not been cutting
puddings all these years for nothing.
ones a pretty good-hearted woman,
though, and nobody begrudges her ber
money. In tbe winter time she lets me
ell hot pies right in front of her shop
bere, though it's against her own trade."
Tbe glare of tbe petroleum lamps flick
ered up less brightly. The night crept on
apace. The fierce glare of the street
changed tot dingy twilight. It was as
if the footlights had been turned half-way
down In some realistic melodrama. The
crowd melted away at last.
Only the stub end of one of the pud
oings remained on the greasy counter.
The drawer was piled full of coins.
wretched woman, gaunt with famine, was
the only customer left. She was bargain
ing for a bone with which to make soup.
Ber two starving children, clinging to
ber tattered gown, eyed with wistful looks
the remnant of the pudding ; but it was
luxury beyond their mother's means.
Tbe workman took up bis bag, and
codding good-night to the huckster, cross
ed over Into tbe shop. The man In the
cap and apron was resting from his la
bora, Tbe workman called to him and he
cam np to tbe counter.
"A alio of pudding," said th work
man.
Th man In th cap and apron cut It
There's no mere paper," he said.
Yoo"U bar to ak It ia your bands,
It's tearly cold now, anyway. Why didn't
you come in when it was hot? It was
grand then, I tell you."
The wretched mhes clinging to the tat
tered skirts of their mother, moved re
luctantly toward the door. Th woman
had secured her bone. Soup in the imme
diate future was of course excellent ; bnt
here was meat pudding being eaten under
their very eyes. They would bare liked
to stay a while. Perhaps the workman
would have dropped some.
"You are right," said the man with
th bag. "These puddings are better hot.
Here, little girl. I'veI've lost my ap
petite." "Give It to me," cried the gaunt wom
an. "I will divide it fairly."
"No, let the children hav that," re
plied the man with the bag. '"Out an
other slice for madame."
The woman burst into tears. Even
the man with tbe cap and apron was
affected; bnt H was at tbe generosity of
th man with the bag.
It was getting late. The Rue Ban
quiere was becoming deserted. The huck
sters outside had covered up their wares
and were beginning to take their depart
ure. The man with the bag, however, still
loitered In the cook shop. He had made
a few purchases, and had chatted pleas
antly with the man In the cap and apron
C2 the i-tcst local esrjitlon, a r!'"
which had' resulted in th dea'th of two
officers.
"Not but what it serves them right,"
remarked tbe man with the bag. "Why
don't these swells of the police let Belle
ville folks alone r
And they must have known tbe kind
of place Into which they were going,"
added madame, speaking for the first time.
Th man with the bag applauded ber
sentiments. Of course they did. Madam
was a woman of good sense. If madam
had ber way, perhaps, she would bava
th police let the people of Belleville
alone altogether, and never come near
them. Madame was emphatic that she
would, "for some of the worst of them
were her best customers," she remarked,
laughing.
"I am In the door and window busi
ness," replied the man with the bag, sig
nificantly.
'I thought you were not In a straight
line when I first saw you," 4aid the cook.
Your hands ain't rough enough, and you
look altogether too fat. Workmen don't
live as you've lived."
Oh ! they feed us well enough where
I ve Just come from, replied the work
man ; and he kept his eyes steadily fixed
on madam's face. "I've Just spent five
years In the prisons of Toulon why,
what's the matter, madame? You never
had anyone there, did you no friend of
yours?" -
But madame was deadly white, and
clutching spasmodically at tbe greasy
counter.
"It Is nothing," she gasped at length,
"It Is the heat it Is I am not well.
Monsieur will call again. I hope he will
be a good customer. - W have many like
blm."
"And I'm all right, you know," said
the man with tbe bag. ."The police can't
touch me, for I've served my time."
He slung his bag over his shoulder,
picked up his parcels, and wishing the
pair good night, passed out on to the
nearly deserted street, with the hang-dog
look of a man who had been bunted often,
and dreaded to be hunted again. - He
trudged on to the top of the Rue Ban
quiere, and gained a broader thorough
fare. Immediately around tbe corner
there was a cab in waiting. The man
with tbe bag entered It, and raising the
trap door in the roof, said to the sleepy
driver :
"Home!" And as he rattled along on
tbe pavement, he said to himself: "Men
dotti was right. The woman is undoubt
edly Madame La Seur. Of course she
would change her name when Bbe mar
ried again. How she blanched when
spoke of Toulon. And another thing I'm
sure of: she never bought that house and
lot she owns by cutting up puddings In
Belleville. She must be watched and
followed night and day."
CHAPTER XX.
"The woman you want went In there!"
It was Mendottl, one of Cassagne's men,
who spoke to bis employer, as both stood
In the deep shadow of a tree, whose fur
thest branches spread over the narrow
street and beyond a high brick wall op
posite.
"She went In there, not twenty minutes
ago," repeated Mendottl, pointing with
his finger to a wooden door, which was
let Into the wall. "I at once sent you a
message. I have not moved from here
except to do that. She's In there yet
don't know whose house It Is."
"But I do. It Is the residence of Col
bert-Remplin, the rich banker of the
Place de l'Opera. That door leads Into
his earden. Tell me bow she got in. Did
she have a key?"
, "No, a woman admitted her."
"What kind of a woman was she?"
"An elderly woman. She looked as
though she might be a housekeeper, or an
upper servant. I crept up near enough
to hear her say, 'My mistress Is busy
now, but she will see you in a few min
utes. Go Into the summer Douse.'
Cassagne thought deeply for a minut
or two. At last be said :
"Run around In front of th houpe and
sea what Is going on. The house Is well
lit up. Th. Colbert-Remplins are not
peopl who entertain much; but there
must be something on to-nignt. uo
not hear Vhs sound of music? Whoever
(a to meet tbe woman," continued th Se
lective, "is to meet ber in the summer
house. Oh, to be able to scale that wall,
and get into those grounds!"
Looking around him bis quick eye fel.
upon the tree immediately over their
neaas, along the branches of which he
thought he might possibly work his war
and so drop into tbe garden.
The night was tolerably dark. Rut
few people were passing in that fashion
able quarter. After a moment's hesita
tion he determined to attempt It.. After'
first instructing Mendotti to await his re
turn, he then climbed upon his assistant's
shoulders, and was just able to reach th
lower limb of the cedar.
"I am all right," be whispered, and he
commenced to work bis way very cau
tiously along one of the branches. It
bent tremendously with his weight; but
he put up bis bsnd and drew down an
upper bough. Thus distributing the bur
den, he managed to pass the wall, and
continued to creep along the branches
until, they gradually bending with their
load, he was enabled to drop noiselessly
into the garden.
I will go and wait for my lady in
tbe center of the lawn, and I bad better
be quick about It," be said.
Relying upon bis general knowledge of
the construction of a Parisian garden. M.
Cassagne walked rapidly forward, struck
his foot against some unforeseen obsta
cle, tripped, stumbled, and the next mo
ment found himself struggling In the
water. He had overlooked the fact that
some gardens have fountains.
"Where have you come from, and what
bave you been doing?" was the astonish
ed Inquiry of Charles D'Auburon.
He had been aroused from his bed at
midnight by a thunderous knocking at
his door, and on going to see what all
the noise was about, bad discovered Cas
sagne, standing, the picture of misery,
under the lamp on tbe landing.
Dripping yet with the moisture which
ran from all his garments ; minus his bat,
and shivering like an aspen, the famous
detective presented a picture well calcu
lated to excite the utmost commiseration ;
but a gleam of triumph was in hla un
dimmed eye; and be wore the air of a
conqueror rather than of a man who had
met with a humiliating accident.
Cassagne entered into a circumstantial
relation of bis adventures. When be ar
rived at what he facetiously termed the
frog-pond Incident," D'Auburon could
not restrain his mirth, and It was so con
tagious that Cassagne, though the joke
was against himself, could not refrain
fromjoinlng him. The two men roared
until the room shook again. When their
merriment had somewhat subsided M.
Cassagne took up th thread of his narra
tive In this wise :
"I had hardly got my head out of
water, and cleared my ears and eyes, be
fore I heard a door open and shut, in
the back part of the house. I crept softly
out of the fountain and lay extended at
full lengthNipon tbe grass. Straining my
eyes in the direction of the house, I per
ceived the figure of a woman coming to
ward me. She was a woman daintily
dressed In full ball costume. I had no
difficulty in following her. She had slip
ped unperceived from the ball room, and
no doubt believed herself to be entirely
free frnm surveillance. I crept along on
my bands and knees and got close to ber
as she came around the bend in the gravel
walk. As she neared me, the moon, which
had hitherto been concealed by passing
clouds, shone out a little and gleamed
upon her soft silk dress and her white
shoulders. In that brief moment I saw
and recognized her."
"Who was she?" exclaimed D'Auburon,
in a tone of almost breathless interest.
"She was the woman I expected. She
was Madame Colbert-Remplin, the bank
er's wife."
"You are joking," exclaimed D'Au
buron. "Both Mendottl and yourself must
have been mistaken. The light was un
certain, you say. It was some young lady
of the household going to meet her lover."
"It -was nothing of the kind. - It was
Madame Colbert-Remplin, going to meet
Madame Mechant, nee La Seur, who has
learned some secret of hers and Is trading
upon it to her own advantage."
"Impossible I"
"It is a fact. I can nnderstand no
how Madame Mechant ia able to become a
property owner by selling meat pud
dings in the Rue Banquiere. She is l
blackmailer. I myself heard money pass
between them. The chink of gold pieces.
It is a sound which I cannot be deceived
in." .
D'Auburon knew the almost marvelouw
gift which his friend had received from
nature in the matter of hearing. No stag
in the forest could catch a' slighter
sound than his highly trained and ex
quisite organ.
"You are probably correct," be said.
"Were you able to glean any particulars
of their secret?
"I was not The interview was very
brief, and what little conversation there
was was carried on In a very low tone.
In fact, only once or twice did I catch
a broken sentence. One - they spoke
londer than usual. Madame Mechant
was threatening the banker's wife; and
Madame Colbert-Remplin was begging th
other not to expose her.
"She has her thoroughly in her power?"
asked D'Auburon.
"Undoubtedly, and that her secret la
In some way connected with Philip Gra
ham, I feel convinced.
"Why?"
"There was one other sentence I beard,
'If you bave no mercy for me, do not
ruin my child. At least respect tbe fee
ings of his unhappy mother.'
(To be continued.)
Not the Same.
Mercbnm I thought you'told me
was a man of very good character.
Quibble I guess you misunderstood
me. I said be was a man of good rap
utatlon Philadelphia Pre,
POULTRY RAISING IN OREGON.
Extracts From Oregon Experiment
Station Bulletin.
Tbe climate of Oregon from a poul
tryman's standpoint ia discussed by
Jamee Dryden in Bulletin No. 98 of the
Oregon Experiment station whiah has
recently been published. Among othet
things the writer says:
It is of course worth considering b
the man looking for a location whethei
Western Oregon with its open winters
snd freedom from mow and aero tem
peratures does not offer opportunities
for the production of eggs and poultry
that are not found in Eastern and Mid
dle West states. That poultry thrive in
cold sections where snow and sero
weather prevail is not to be denied,
bat tbe labor and expense of caring for
them is undoubtedly greater there: To
secure an egg yield In winter where the
climate is severe entails more expense
for housing and more care in the feed
ing. It is probably true that the smal
lest profits are made during tbe winter
months tnougn tne prices are very
much higher than in spring and sum
mer, because the egg yield ia so small
from the average fleck as to leave little
or no margin of profit. It is also true
that the egg yield is quickly affected by
changes in the weather, ( specially in
the temperature. A sadden change
from mild to cold weather means a
certain check in the egg production,
and although tbe weather soon moder
ates it will often take several weeks
before the egg yield gets back to where
it was. Tbe only way to prevent this
Is to provide housing that will protect
the fowls from too sudden changes ' in
tempeiatuie. This entails more ex
pense in housing and consequently di
minished profits, but what is of more
importance is the highly artificial con
ditions that it necessitates.
It would appear therefore that there
are certain advantages that this state
possesses over sections of the country
where zero weather and bdow prevail.
First, a milder climate and lees severe
changes in temperature than is charac
ter ia tic of Eastern states. Second, in
sections of the state with no snowfall
the poultry can range over the fields
and find animal food and green food
which are often hard to get wnere ths
snow covers the ground.
The heavy rainfall of Western Oregou
and small percentage of sunshine may
be set down as a disadvantage, but
when the nature of the rainfall is on
derstood it is doubtful whether it is
very mi ch of a detriment. Owing to
the moderating influence of the Pacific-
ocean these rains are warm and bave
not the chilling effect of the rains In
Eastern states. The temperature of
Western Oregon in the winter months
Is usually higher when it rams than
when ths sky is cloudless, and ths
fowls will usually be found out in the
rain except when it is very heavy,
which is nrt often the case. One poul
tryman in Marion county said to the
writer in November, before the rainy
season set in, that be wished it would
rain, because, he said, his hens laid
better when it rained. The explana
tion of this, if it is true, may not be
in the rain itself, but in the fact that
it brings to the surface many angle
worms, which supply the lack of ani
mal food in the ration.
Turkeys are successfully raised in
Oregon, and turkey are known to be
easily affected by rain, but the fact
that the rains are warm no doubt
largely accounts for the success in tur
key raising in this state. Douglas
county in Oregon produces several
times more turkeys than the state of
Rhode Island, noted for turkeys.
Another thing in favor of the mild
climate and freedom from snow is that
the fowls are able to secure practically
the year round all the green food necei
sary in the-fielda. And finally, the
fowls in their search for food in ths
aelds get the exercise which in neces
sary for it is worthy of mention in this
connection that the largest special
poultry district in the United States is
found in Northern California, that has
no snowfall. That district is somewhat
similar to that of Western Oregon, with
its open winters, mild snd humid cli
mate and nearness to the ocean.
My investigations of tbe poultry in
dustry of Oregon have been confined to
tbe western part of the state, the region
west of tbe Cascade mountains. This
section at the present time produces
mors poultry products than the larger
area of the state east of the Cascades,
As tbe agriculture of Central and East
ern Oregon becomes developed we may
expect greater development of poultry,
keeping, and probably in time that
great agricultural area may produce
more poultry products than the older
section of the etate In Western Oregon.
Tbe climatic conditions ars different
east of tbe mountains, the heavy rain
fall is absent and snow covers the
ground daring part of the winter. The
climate there is more characteristic of
the Rocky mountain region, though no
such severe weather prevails as in the
Middle and Northwestern states. If it
should prove that a dry climate with
plenty of sunshine bnt lacking the se
vere winter changes of temperature of
the East is the ideal one for proultry,
we may expect a great growth of the
poultry industry east of the Cascades
In Oregon. Undoubtedly on tbe grain
ranches of Central and Eastern Oregon
where food is oheap there is opportun
ity lor great profit In poultry raising.
"If It wasn't for one thing Tomp
kins would be the most succesful liar
"She basn't any friends to speak of."
"No? Then what are they for?"
Puck.
I ever met." "And that?" "No on
ever believes his lies." Milwaukee Sen
tinel. . "Nagg Is very fond of entertaining.
Isn't he?" "Yes; bis wife has to be
pleasant when there's company pres
ent." Boston Traveler.
"I will pay your debts to-day, but It
Is positively for the lust time!" "Oh,
dear uncle, then wait at least until to
morrow !" Fdlegeude Blaetter.
"Out of a Job?" "Yes and they put
a woman In my place." "Gee! Well,
I'll tell you why don't you marry the
woman?" Cleveland Plain Dealer.
She I beard about the elopement.
Has her mother forgiven them? He
I think not I understand she has gone
to live with them. Illustrated Bits.
, "Did you ever bite a Boston girl?"
Nd, I am afraid to go near them," re-
piled the second mosquito. "I've heard
they are very cold-blooded." Houston
Post.
My bride wanted to go on a week's
wedding tour, and I wanted to stay at
home. Well, we compromised by going
on a tour around the world 1" Meggen-
dorfer Blaetter.
Clnra As Ethel married In haste, I
supposed she repented at leisure?
Maude No; she repented at a cheap
boarding house, I understand. Chi
cago Dully News.
"I have come all the way out here,"
said the tenderfoot, "to see your beau
tiful sunset." "Somebody's been string
In' you, stranger," replied Arizona Al.
It alu't mine." Chicago Record-Her
ald.
'Weary Walker De world's all
wrong. Tired Tatters Wot's entln'
youse now? Weary Walker Ef I'd a
had de makln' uv It I'd made all de
roads runuln down bill. Chicago
News.
Mrs. Tourist I'm afrold that the
monkey wouldn't please my husband.
Vendor But niadnnie will find It easi
er to find another husband than to get
a monkey like that for three piastres I
Le Rlre. v
"What shall I read you first?" "The
marriages." "Here Is au article about
some boys who were found playing with
dynamite." "Well, read It It pos
sesses the same elements of interest"
Houston Post
"What," queried, the young mpn, "is
the difference between white lies and
black lies?" "White lies," answered the
home-grown philosopher, "ore the kind
we tell; black lies are the kind we
hear." Chicago News.
"Yes," said the Summer Girl, "It's
all off. I sent everything buck to him
yesterday." ""Not the ring?", asked her
friend. "No, he said I could keep that
If I'd send him the hammock I caught
him In." Yonkers Statesman.
Mistress Did you remember to feed
tho cat every day during my absence?
Servant Every day but one, nin'nm.
Mistress And didn't the poor thing
have anything to eat all day? Serv
antOh, yes, mn'nni. She ate the ca
nary. Chicago Dally News.
First Stranger Excuse me, but yon
are a physician, I believe? xSeeond
Stranger You are mistaken, sir. First
Strauger But I overheard you say you
followed the medical profession. Sec
ond Stranger And so I do. I'm an un
dertaker. Chicago Dally News.
"An artist," said the man with point
ed whiskers, "must not think about
money." "I suppose not," answered
Mr. Cumrox. "Every time I buy a pic
ture the artist wants enough to keep
him from thinking about money for the
rest of his life." Washington Star.
Yeast It is difficult to tell the wait
ers from gentlemen d'ners at fashion
able restaurants now. Crlnisonuenk
Well, If you happened to search 'em
when they went out you could tell the
difference. The waiters have all tho
money in their clothes. Yonkers
Statesman.
Mr. Jngway (at a late hour, groping
his way toward the foot of the stairs)
There's just twice as many chairs
In this hallway as there ought f be.
My eyes might fool me on that prop'sl
tion, o' course, but when I stumble
gainst 'em, by George, I know they're
there! Chicago Tribune.
The millionaire from Tittsburg was
observed to be loitering outside of tho
pearly gates. "Why don't you hurry
up and knock?" queried a shade. "I'm
waiting for that other chap to get
ahead of me," whispered the Pittsburg
millionaire. "And who Is be?" "Why,
a grafter from San Francisco. By tho
side of blm I will seem as Innocent as
lamb." Chicago News.