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It
THE SUNDAY FICTION MAGAZINE, MAY 21. 1916.
wer in
Table
ERNON MOORE was
hungry. In the living
room of his bachelor
suite there was a
Daghestan carpet on
the floor, the heavy,
"mannish" f u r n 1 ture
was of honest mahog
any, and an electrolier shaded by favrlle
glass threw a mellow glow upon the excel
lent prints and etchings that carried out
the reds and browns of the general deco
rative scheme. But among all the things
that made his lodgings so pleasantly hab
itable there was nothing edible.
Moore was very hungry. It was early
evening, and he had not eaten a morsel of
food since early morning. It was a non
housekeeping apartment, and the occupant
was supposed to obtain his meals at his
club or a restaurant.
The average man In Moore's physical
condition would have solved the problem
simply and quickly by clapping on his hat
and walking around the corner to the ex
cellent restaurant on Fifth avenue. Moore,
however, gave no thought to such a pro
cedure. He had no charge account at the
restaurant, and In all the world of finance
he possessed not so much as the price of
an evening newspaper.
He Intended to sleep if sleep would
come graciously to his relief on the tap-estry-valanced
Flemish bedstead in his
sleeping chamber; but it would be his last
night of such luxury. The furniture deal
er, whoso charges for fitting up and em
bellishing the suite had not been met
within the time agreed upon, held a pro
tective lien upon all the chattels, and was
removing them In the morning. This was,
in a way, a fortuitous convenience, for
Moore's landlord had requested him firmly
to remove the things on the following day,
and the furniture dealer had the means of
- effecting the removal, while Moore had
not.
Three months earlier, with a more than
comfortable salary and no tangible fears
for the morrow, Moore had settled in the
handsome apartment with agreeable con-
" ceptions of the life of a well-fed New York
bachelor; but the salary had vanished
with the business that was Its source, and
the times were so out of Joint that no oth
er salary, large or small, could be conjured
up by any of the abracadabra incanta
tions known to commercial sorcery.
With optimistic nonchalance Moore had
By Joseph Ivers Lawrence
Illustrated by R. Tanll?r.
"What's that? A gentleman from Cobb,
Frost & Cobb, the jewelers. Why. I never
had anything char I mean. I haven't had
any dealings with that firm. Isn't it Mr.
"It's quite all right," said Moore terse
ly, waving him into the room and closing
the door. "Sit down, won't you? You'va
brought the er "
Frank F. Moore, acrJss the hall, that the
man wants to see?"
The hallboy answered presently that
the visitor had merely the name and ad
dress "Mr. Moore, Luxoria Apartments."
and that he said Mr. Moore had ordered
certain articles sent to him on approval
from the jewelry shop. The boy added
that Mr. Frank Moore was out for the
evening, he believed.
As Vernon Moore listened, he stiffened
suddenly, and a hard, keen look flashed
into his eyes. He" stepped back from the
instrument a pace and glanced nervously
Step into
that room
quick!"
"Yes, sir; I have the set of studs in my
bag. Mr. Moore," the man answered, de
clining to sit down, and placing his small
satchel on the writing table in order to
keep It in sight. "I believe $950 was the
price quoted, was it not?"
"Urn-er yes, $950," Moore drawled. "I
want to look them over again carefully;
things appear so vastly different out of
the shop, you know.".
The man knitted his brows slightly, as
though the-idea of any delay was distaste
ful to him. He took a square, vellum-covered
box from the bag and snapped open
about the room, while the hand which held the cover, disclosing three shirt studs, five
the receiver trembled slightly.
The hallboy, mistaking his
silence,
rnntlmied to live in the apartment and eat
the delicacies of the season at recognized Parted to repeat the explanation, where-
hostelrles until his store of money was re
duced to- pocketbook dimensions; then he
sought out the exotic little side-street res
taurants which offered the largest quan
tity of strong-flavored food and thin, red
wine for 50 or 60 cents.
- His last meal had consisted of three
crullers and a mug of coffee, thrust at him
over a stained marble counter, and his
last nickel had paid for It. That was after
he had left the early morning steamboat
from Boston, where he had been running
down a will-o'-the-wisp clew to a fabled
position.
When the clew had ended In the rare
fled air of Tremont street, he had counted
his remaining shekels and found enough
a- il. 4-. m frmn no oaa crA Ko rlf tit TCf1 W
xo uu B. . -- pocket of h,a coatj and wUh that dono
York, where New x oncers cnoose io uio
when they cannot live there or elsewhere.
Moore's telephone service was "cut off,"
so far as calls from his end of the line
were concerned; but he gave a start of
nervousness rather than surprise when the
bell of the apparatus Jingled.
"Ah!" he exclahned with a wry smile.
"Perhaps some Impecunious friend wants
to borrow money. Always glad to accom
modate friends, but "
He moved wearily across the room and
picked up the receiver. He recognized at
once the familiar tones of the negro hall
boy downstairs.
upon Moore whirled sharply back and In
terrupted him.
"Oh! Why, of course, .Jack!" he ex
claimed. "How stupid I am tonight! The
man from Cobb, Frost & Cobb, certainly.
Send him right up, won't you?"
With that he banged the receiver into
place hurriedly. He knew that It would
take the visitor thirty seconds to make
the ascent in the elevator, but he moved
with unwonted haste.
Darting to the large writing table in
the middle of the room, he jerked open an
upper drawer and whipped out an auto
matic pistol. He satisfied himself that it
was loaded, then slipped it into the side
he
faced the outer door and listened for the
rattle of the elevator.
The expected sound reached him, then
the grating of the sliding door, a footfall
in the tiled corridor, and the trill of the
doorbell.
"Good evening," Moore said coolly, as
he swung wide the door. "You are from
Cobb, Frost & Cobb? All right; come in."
The man was apparently about 40 years
old, spare of frame, and of a humble de
meanor that was almost servile.
"I hope I haven't kept you in this eve
ning, Mr. Moore," he said timorously. "I
hearth rug, hands clasped behind him,',
rocking upon the bails of his fee,t in an '
agitated manner.
"Perhaps you'd rather I didn't leave"
them now, rtr," Jie said coldly. "You may
like to drop tn at, the shop again, sir, ami '
discuss the matter with one of our ex-,
perts."
"No, I don't think that's necessary," r
replied Moore easily. "I want to be sure,
that I like them, that's all. Now, they
had a set of sapphire buttons In a window
on Fifth avenue the other day; I stopped
and looked at them for a minute or two.'
But, after all, this design is more elegant,
I think; there's a little more distinction to
It, and I like the quieter effects, anyway." :j
The man took out his watch without ;
concealing an air of growing anxiety.
'Tm sure I beg your pardon. Mr.
Moor$," he said; "but It's 8:15 now, and.!
my appointment at " '
"Oh, I'm sure your watch is a trifle
fast." protested Moore almost Jocularly.?
"Let me look at the clock on the Metro-
politan tower; I can see It from my win'
dow." .
He laid down the vellum case, stepped
over to the window, raised the shade, and ;
peered out into the night. And while his .
back was turned the nervous visitor be-"
came still more nervous, and with noise
less tread made a rapid little Journey from
the hearth rug to the drawer in the writ-,
ing table and back again. '
. When Moore turned around, the man
was standing in the same position on the'
rug.
"You were right," admitted Moore withv
a laugh; "it's 8:16 now. I shouldn't ques
tion the accuracy of a jeweler's watch, of:
course." j
"You will keep the studs. Mr. Moor?"..
asked the man gravely. "I really feel, air,;'
that I must be going."
Moore suddenly laughed aloud wttfti
great good humor. ; y
V
"By Jove!" he exclaimed. "I believe you
jewelry men are inclined to be suspicious
of every one. I'm sorry if I've made you-v
nervous. Well, well; I must come to a de
cision and let yo'u go. Nine hundred and ;
fifty dollars! That's quite a bit of money
for a man to be spending on gewgaws for '
himself, isn't it. It's simply rank extrava-'"
gance! But I confess I have a fondness;
for really good jewelry. I suppose, nowy
that you fellows in the business look upon
such things as so much dross. Familiarity
ibreeds contempt, of course. No doubt, if
you were wealthy, you would scarcely
think of buying such things for yourself.
"Really, Mr. Moore!" the man burst out
suddenly, "I don't like to offend you, sir;
but I simply can't wait another minute.
.If you want more time to consider the
purchase, I will bring the things back
again tomorrow. My appointment Is of
great importance, and I must be going.4
He made a determined stride toward
the table, where his hat, his bag, and thss
vellum case were laid; but Moore, without
appearing conscious of the rude action,1
stepped swiftly In front of him, barring
his way, and picked Up the case again. ;
"There's really no time like the present,
my friend," he said calmly. "I suppose I
can make my decision as well now as anyi
waistcoat buttons, and a pair of cuff
links; all in exquisite platinum filigree,
and each one set with a handsome Oriental
pearl.
"I suppose you have to call on other
customers this evening," remarked Moore
casually; "so few people are at home In
the daytime, and they don't like such busi
ness brought into their, offices. I dare say
you carry quite a precious cargo In that
small bag."
Without appearing actually suspicious,
the man snapped the bag shut and laid
the case of studs on the table.
"No," he said slowly. "Oh, no, I never
carry very many articles of great value at
one time. It wouldn't be safe, you know..
Now, Mr. Moore, if these are satisfactory,
I will that is, I don't like to hurry you,
sir; but I will be going as soon as possible.
I have er another engagement this eve
ning yes, another bpsmess engagement other time. I cannot deny that I admire
rather important." , these buttons immensely. But if they
"Ah, yes; I understand." replied Moore. Vere a bit more " ;?
"I won't keep you long. It's a very hand- "What do you mean by this behavior,
some set, isn't it?" Mr. Moore?" demanded the man, now'
He picked up the vellum case and held plainly alarmed. "Are you trying to keep"
if under the light of the electrolier, turn- me here for any reason? Your actions
ing it to various angles and examining really, I must say that they seem very pe--the
studs with critical care. culiar!"
"I feel a trifle undecided about them," Moore shut the vellum case with a snap'
"Oh, yes; I am in. Jack," he replied to expected to get here much earlier; but I
a query. "At least I suspect myself hardly knew, you see. I thought you
strongly of being in. Who Is the -son might be dining at your club something
that Is so kindly inquiring? , like that, you know."
he murmured presently. "You see, plati
num and pearls rather a cold effect, you
know. I wonder if I'd like a touch of gold
a little better. The platinum work is very
beautiful; perhaps a colored stone some
thing warmer a touch of fire would liven
up the design."
The jewelers man had backed away
from the table, and now stood on the
i
and placed It in his pocket. Then be stood
between the man and the door and looked
him coldly In the eye.
"Did you ever see me before, my man?"
he asked.
...
The other gasped and fell to trembling.
"Why, no; but why should I have seen
you?" he quavered. "I am not in the sales
department of the shop; I am employed in