The Maximilian Diamond
Dockbridge yawned, threw down his fountain-pen, whirled his chair awayfrom the window, through which the afternoon sun was pouring a dazzlingflood of light, crossed his feet upon the rickety old table whose fadedgreen baize was littered with newspapers, law books, copies ofindictments, and empty cigarette boxes, and idly contemplated thegraphophone, his latest acquisition. To a stranger, this little office,tucked away behind an elevator shaft under the eaves of the CriminalCourts Building, might have proved of some interest, filled as it was onevery side with mementoes of hard-fought cases in the courts below,framed copies of forged checks and notes, photographs of streets andhouses known to fame only by virtue of the tragedies they had witnessed,and an uncouth collection of weapons of all varieties from a stilettoand long tapering bread knife to the most modern Colt automatic. On thebookcase stood an innocent-looking bottle which had once containedpoison, while above it hung a faded indictment accusing someone longsince departed of administering its contents to another who did "for along time languish, and languishing did die." An enormous black leatherlounge, a safe, several chairs, and some pictures of English andAmerican jurists completed the contents of the room. Here Dockbridge hadfor five years interviewed his witnesses, prepared his cases, anddreamed of establishing a forensic reputation which should later by ashower of gold repay him in part for the many tedious hours passedwithin its walls. From the grimy windows he could look down upon thecourt-yard of the Tombs and see the prisoners taking their dailyexercise, while from the distance came faintly the din and rattle ofBroadway. An air-shaft which passed through the room communicated insome devious manner with the prison pens on the mezzanine floor farbeneath, and at times strange odors would come floating up bringingsuggestions of prison fare. On such occasions Dockbridge would throwwide both windows, open the transom, and seek refuge in the library.
Taken as a whole, his five years there had been invaluable both from apersonal and professional point of view. He had found himself from thevery first day in a sort of huge legal clinic, where hourly he could runthrough the whole gamut of human emotions. It was to him, the embryonicadvocate, what hospital service is to the surgeon. He was, as it were,an intern practising the surgery of the law. And what a multitude ofcases came there for treatment--every disease of the mind and heart andsoul! For a year or two he had been racked nervously and emotionally,forced from laughter in one moment, to tears the next. Then the merefascination of his trade as prosecutor, the marshalling of evidence, thetactics of trials, the thwarting of conspiracies, the analysis ofmotives, the exposure of cunning tricks to liberate the guilty, had sopossessed his mind that the suffering and sin about him, though keenlyrealized, no longer cost him sleep and peace of mind. And the storiesthat he heard! The mysteries which were unravelled before his very eyes,and those deeper mysteries the secrets of which were never revealed, butremained sealed in the hearts of those who, rather than disclose them,sought sanctuary within prison walls!
How he wished sometimes that he could write--if only a little! Throughwhat strange labyrinths of human passion and ingenuity could he conducthis readers! Sometimes he tried to scribble the stories down, but thewords would not come. How could you describe your feelings while tryinga man for his life, when he sat there at the bar pallid and tense, hishands clutching each other until the nails quivered in the flesh; thegroan of the convicted felon; the wail of the heart-broken mother asher son was led away by the officer? He had seen one poor fellow faintdead away on hearing his sentence to the living tomb; and had heard amurderer laugh when convicted and the day set for his execution.Sometimes, in sheer desperation at the thought of losing what he hadseen and experienced, he would turn on the graphophone and talk into it,disconnectedly, by the hour. It usually came out in better shape thanwhat he turned off with his pen. If he could only write!
"Dockbridge! Hi, there, Dockbridge!"
The door was kicked open, and the lank figure of one of his associatesstood before him. His visitor grinned, and removed his pipe.
"Bob'll be up in a minute. Come along to 'Coney.'"
"Don't feel kittenish enough," answered Dockbridge.
"Oh, come on! It'll do you good."
The sound of rapid steps flew up the stairs, and Bob burst into theroom, almost upsetting the first arrival.
"What are you doing up here in this smelly place?" he inquired. "Got acigarette?"
Dockbridge threw him a package without altering his position.
At this moment the heavily built figure of the chief of staff entered.
"Holding a reception?" he asked good-naturedly.
Bob had slipped behind the owner of the graphophone and was rapidlysurveying his desk. Suddenly he pounced on a pile of yellow paper, and,snatching it up, ran across the room.
"I thought so! He's been writing."
"Here you, Bob, give that back!" cried Dockbridge, springing up. He wasblocked by the chief of staff.
"Fair play, now. It may be libellous. The censor demands the right ofinspection."
"Oh, I don't mind if _you_ see it!" said Dockbridge, "only I don'tintend that cub to snicker over it. It's nothing, anyway."
"'The Maximilian Diamond!'" shouted the thief. "By George, what arippin' title! Full of gore, I bet!"
"You give that back!" growled its owner.
"Gentlemen, allow me to present the well-known author and brilliantyoung literary man, Mr. John Dockbridge, whose picture in four colors issoon to appear on the cover of the 'Maiden's Gaslog Companion,'"continued Bob. "I read, 'The villain stood with his dagger elevated foran instant above the bare breast of his palpitating victim.' My, butit's great!"
"You see you'd better read it to us in self-defence," remarked thechief of staff. "Go ahead!"
"Promise, and I'll give it back," said Bob, from the door. "Refuse, andI send it to the 'American.'"
"It wasn't for publication, anyway," explained Dockbridge.
"Of course not," answered Bob. "We'll pass on it. Perhaps we'll send itin for that Five-Thousand-Dollar competition."
"Well, shut up, and I will. Give it here!" Dockbridge recovered themanuscript and returned to his armchair. The others disposed themselvesupon the lounge.
"Oyez! Oyez!" cried Bob. "All persons desiring to hear the greatAmerican novel, draw near, give your attention and ye shall be heard."
"Keep still!" ordered the chief of staff. "Go ahead, Jack. I'll make himshut up."
"Mind you do," said Dockbridge. "It's about that big diamond, you know.The story begins in this room."
"Well, begin it," laughed Bob.
His companions pulled his head down on the chief's lap and smothered himwith a handkerchief.
"Well," said Dockbridge rather sheepishly, "here goes."
THE MAXIMILIAN DIAMOND
A stout, jovial-looking person, with reddish hair, sandy complexion, andwatery blue eyes, stood waiting in my office, his wrist attached bymeans of a nickel-plated handcuff to that of a keeper. My two visitorsconducted themselves with remarkable unanimity, and with but a singlemotion sank into the chairs I offered.
"Well, what's the trouble?" I inquired genially.
The keeper jerked his thumb in the direction of the other, who grinnedapologetically and hitched in my direction. Bending toward me, hewhispered: "I am the victim of one of the most remarkable conspiraciesin history. My story involves personages of the highest rank, and isstranger than one of Dumas' romances. I am a bill-poster."
Not knowing whether he intended to include himself among the illustriouspersons alluded to, I nodded encouragingly and produced some cigars.
"My name is Riggs," continued the prisoner, as he bit off the end of hiscigar and expelled it through the window. "Got a match?"
The keeper drew a handful from his pocket. I lit a cigar for myself andassumed an attitude of attention.
"My wife is little Flossie Riggs. Don't know her? Why, she dances atProctor's, and all over. I was doing well at my trade, and would havebeen doing
better, if it hadn't been for that confounded diamond. It wasthis way. There was a fellow named Tenney, who posted bills with meabout five years back, and he finally got a job down in the City ofMexico with a railroad, and I used to correspond with him.
"Among other things, he told me about a great big diamond that theEmperor Maximilian used to wear in the middle of his crown. According toTenney, it was one of the biggest on record. He said that Maximilian wasso stuck on it that he had it taken out and made into a pendant for theEmpress Carlotta, and that she used to wear it around at all the courtfunctions, and so on. About the same time he took two other diamonds outof the crown and made them into finger-rings for himself.
"After a while the Mexicans got tired of having an empire and putMaximilian out of business. They stood him and two of his generals up inthe parade ground at Queretaro and shot 'em. Now when he was stood up toget shot he had those two rings on his fingers, and the funny part of itwas that when the people rushed up to see whether he was dead or not,both the rings were gone. Just about that time, while Carlotta was inprison, the diamond with the big pendant disappeared too. It weighedthirty-three carats. I got all this from Tenney. I don't know where hefound out about it. But it all happened way back in '67.
"Somehow or other I used to think quite a lot about that diamond--partlybecause I was sorry for Max, who looked to have come out at the smallend; and there didn't seem to be any occasion for shooting him anyhow,that I could see.
"Well, I went on bill-posting, and got a good job with the Hair Restorerfolks and was doing well, as I said, until one day I happened to take upa paper and read that there were two Mexicans out in St. Louis trying tosell an enormous diamond, but that the dealers there were all afraid tobuy it. Finally the police got suspicious, and the Mexicans disappeared.Then all of a sudden it came over me that this must be the diamond thatTenney had wrote about, for all that it had been lost for nearly fortyyears, and I made up my mind that the Mexicans, having failed in St.Louis, would probably come to New York. I knew they had no right to thediamond anyway, first because it belonged to Maximilian's heirs, andsecond because it hadn't paid no duty; and I said to myself, 'Next timeI write to Tenney he will hear something that will make him sit up.' Soevery morning, when I started out with my paste-pot and roll ofposters, I would keep my eye peeled for the two Mexicans.
"But I didn't hear any more about the diamond for a long time, and I had'most forgot all about it, until one day I was plastering up one ofthose yellow-headed Hair Restorer girls in Madison Square, when I sawtwo chaps cross over Twenty-third Street toward the Park. They were thevery gazeebos I'd been looking for. Both were dark and thin and short,and, queerer still, one of them carried a big red case in his hand.
"With my heart rattling against my teeth, I jumped down from the ladderand started after them. They hurried along the street until they came toa jeweller's on Broadway, about a block from the Square. They went in,and I peeked through the window. Presently out they came in a greathurry. They still had the red case, and I made a dash for the door andrushed in. There was the store-keeper with eyes bulgin' half-way out ofhis head.
"'Say,' says I, 'did those dagoes try to sell you a diamond?'
"'Yes,' says he, 'the biggest I ever saw. They wanted forty thousanddollars for it, and I offered them fifteen thousand, but they wouldn'ttake it.'
"I didn't give him time for another word, but turned around and madeanother jump for the door. The Mexicans were almost out of sight, but Icould still see them walking toward the Fifth Avenue Hotel, and Ihustled after them tight as I could, picked up two cops on the way down,and, just as they were turning in at the entrance, we pounced on 'em.
"'You're under arrest!' I yelled, so excited I didn't really know what Iwas doing. The fellow with the red case dodged back and handed it overto a big chap who had joined them. This one didn't appear to want totake it, and seemed quite peevish at what was happening. He turned outafterward to have been a General Dosbosco of the Haytien Junta. Well,the cops grabbed all three of them and collared the leather case. Sureenough, so help me--! There inside was the big diamond, and not onlythat, but a necklace with eighteen stones, and two enormous solitairerings. The big stone was yellowish, but the others were pure white,sparklin' like one of those electric Pickle signs with fifty-sevenvarieties. By that time the hurry-up wagon had come, and pretty soon thewhole crew of us, diamonds, Mexicans, cops, paste-pot, and me, wereclattering to the police-station for fair. There I told 'em all aboutthe diamond, and they telephoned over to Colonel Dudley, at theCustom-house, and the upshot of the whole matter was that the twoMexicans were held on a charge of smuggling diamonds into the UnitedStates.
"If you don't believe what I tell you," said Riggs, noticing, perhaps, asuggestion of incredulity in my face, "just look at these"; and fumblingin his pocket, he produced some very soiled and crumpled clippings,containing pictures of Maximilian, the Empress Carlotta, and of a verylarge diamond which appeared to be about the size of the "Regent." Itwas then that I dimly remembered reading something of a diamond seizurea short time before, and it was with a renewed interest that I listenedto the continuation of my client's story.
"Well," said Riggs, "that was strange, now, wasn't it?
"You can imagine how I felt when I went home and told little Flossieabout the diamond; that I was entitled to a fifty per cent. informer'sreward; how I was going to give up bill-posting and just be her manager,and how we could take a bigger flat, and all that; and I thought so muchabout it, and talked so much about it, that I began to feel like I wasRockefeller already, which may account in part for what happenedafterward."
At this point the keeper moved uneasily, and I pushed him another cigar.
"Well," continued Riggs, "I just walked on air that afternoon afterleaving the Custom-house, and went around blabbing like a poor foolabout my good luck. On the way home I stopped in to take a drink. Therewere a lot of my acquaintances there, and I had something with most ofthem, and then the first thing I knew everything swam before my eyes. Igroped my way into the street and started toward home, but I had onlytaken a few steps when a gang of strong-arm men attacked me, knocked medown, and robbed me. I struggled to my feet and followed them. Theyturned and attacked me again. I drew my knife, and then everything gotdark, and the next thing I knew I was in the police-station.
"I'll admit that this part of it does seem a little queer." Riggsdropped his voice mysteriously and leaned toward me. "But I have nodoubt that I was drugged and beaten for the purpose of getting me lockedup in the Tombs as part of a well-planned scheme. You will see foryourself later on.
"Next morning, while I was waiting examination in the prison pen, a mancame along who said he was a lawyer and would take my case. I said, Allright, but that he would have to wait for his pay. He laughed, and saidhe guessed there would be no trouble about that; and the next thing Iknew I was up before the Judge. My lawyer went up and whisperedsomething to him, and the magistrate said:
"'Five hundred dollars bail for trial.'
"'Look here,' I spoke up, 'ain't I going to have a chance to tell mystory?'
"'Keep quiet,' said the lawyer from behind his hand; 'this is just aform. You won't never have to be tried. It's just to get you out.'
"So I said nothing, and went back to the pen and waited; and the nextthing I knew the hurry-up wagon had taken me to the Tombs. I tell you itwas pretty tough bein' chucked in with a lot of thieves and burglars.The bill of fare ain't above par, you know, and the company's worse. Isat in my cell and waited and waited for my lawyer to show up, for hehad said he'd be right over. But he didn't come, and I had to spend thenight there. Next morning the keeper told me that my lawyer was in thecounsel-room. So down I went with two niggers, who also had anappointment with their lawyers. It's a nasty, unventilated hole, andthey lock you and the attorneys all in together. Ever been there?"
I shook my head.
"'Well,' says he, 'now have you got a bondsman?'
"'A what?' says I.
 
; "'A bondsman--someone to go bail for you.'
"'No,' I answered, for I knew nothing about such things.
"'What! I thought you told me you had a lot of friends who had money!You haven't been trifling with me, have you?'
"I knew I hadn't told him anything of the sort, but I thought that maybehe had forgotten; so I said I hadn't any friends who had any money, andknew no one to go bail for me.
"'Bad! very bad!' said he. 'You've got to have money to get out. Isn'tthere anyone who owes you money, or haven't you got some _claim_ orsomething?'
"Then all of a sudden it flashed over me about the diamond and my fiftyper cent. of the reward, and then something in his eye made me thinkagain. It seemed to me that I had seen him before somewhere. I couldn'tremember just where, but the more I hesitated the surer I was. Then itcame over me that a few days in jail, more or less, made mighty littledifference when I was going to be a rich man so soon, and I decided Ihad better hang on to what I'd got.
"'No,' said I, 'I ain't got nothin'.'
"'You lie!' says he, growing very red. 'You lie! You've got a claimagainst the United States Government.'
"Then he saw he'd made a break.
"'Why, they all told me you caught a smuggler, or something, and had aclaim against the Government for a hundred dollars.'
"'A hundred!' I yelled. 'Twenty thousand!'
"'Oh!' said he, 'as much as that? Why, I'll get you out this afternoon.'
"'How?' said I.
"'Well, you will have to assign your claim so I can raise the money onit. It's a mere form.'
"But the thought came into my mind, Better stay there ten years than lethim have the claim; so I said that I didn't understand such things, andI'd just wait until I could be tried.
"'Tried?' said he. 'Why, you won't be tried for months.'
"My heart sank right down into my boots.
"'Don't be a fool!' he went on. 'Here you are, sick and in prison, andif you don't raise money to get a bondsman you'll stay here a long time.You might die. And if you assign that claim to me, I have a pull withthe Judge and I'll have you out by supper-time.'
"'I guess I'll wait awhile,' said I.
"'Think it over, anyway. Now I tell you what I'll do. To-morrow you goup for pleading. You have to say whether you are guilty or not guilty.I'll act as your lawyer and see you through that part of it for nothing,and then if you still don't want to assign the claim, why, you can doas you choose.'
"That seemed fair enough, so I agreed. I spent another night in thecells, and next day about thirty of us were taken across the bridge intothe court-room. One by one we were led up to the bar, and the clerkasked us were we guilty or not guilty. The ones that said they wereguilty went off to Sing Sing or Blackwell's Island. It scared the lifeout of me. I was afraid that I might not be able to say 'not,' and soget sent off too, but pretty soon I saw my lawyer.
"'P. Llewellyn Riggs!'
"Up jumped Mr. Lawyer and says, 'Not guilty.'
"'What day?' asked the clerk.
"'The 21st,' says Mr. Lawyer.
"I was dumb for a minute.
"'Look here,' I whispered. 'To-day's only the first--that's threeweeks.'
"'Keep quiet,' shouted an officer, and gave me a punch in the back.
"'It's all right,' whispered Mr. Lawyer. 'It's only a form.' And theyhustled me out back to the Tombs.
"I didn't hear anything all that day or the next. It seemed as if Ishould go mad. But at last I was notified that my lawyer was thereagain, and down I went glad enough for the change. By that time I wasfeeling pretty seedy.
"'Well, young man,' said he, 'can we do business?'
"'That depends,' I answered.
"'Come, no fooling, now; if you want to get out, give me an assignmentof your claim.'
"'Never,' I replied.
"'Then to h---- with you!' he shouted; 'you can rot here alone and tryyour case by yourself, and I hope you'll get twenty years.'
"I almost sank through the floor. Twenty years!"
Riggs had become quite dramatic, and was again leaning forward lookingme straight in the eyes.
"Well, I stood fast, and he cursed me out and left me, and I began tofeel that after all maybe I was a fool. I hadn't let my wife know whereI was, but now I wrote to her, and she came right down and comforted me.A brave little woman she is, too. And what was more, she said that anice young lawyer had just moved into our house and had the flat below,and she would go and get him.
"So next morning--I had been in there a week--the young lawyer came. Iliked him from the start. When I told him my first lawyer's name he justleaned back and laughed.
"'Old Todd?' he says; 'why, he's the worst robber in the outfit. If hehad gotten that assignment he'd have let you lie here forever and beenin Paris by this time. You're a lucky man,' says he.
"Well, I thought so too, and laughed with him.
"'But,' he continued, 'you're in an embarrassing position. You can't getout without money, and you can't collect your claim. You'll have toassign it to someone. You can't assign it to your wife. That wouldn't bevalid. Haven't you got some friend?'
"'I'm afraid not,' said I.
"'That's unfortunate,' he remarked, looking out where the window oughtto be. 'Very unfortunate. I might lend you a couple of hundred myself,'he added. 'I will, too!'
"The blood jumped right up in my throat.'
"'God bless you!' said I, 'you're a true friend!'
"He laid his hand on my shoulder.
"'You're in hard luck, old man, but you're going to win out. I'll standby you. Here's a five. I'll go out and get the rest right off.'
"Then all of a sudden I began to feel like a king. I could see myself ina new suit, having a bottle up at the Haymarket. I realized that I was atwenty-thousand-dollar millionaire. And just to show my chest, I said:
"'Why, you're an honest man and a true friend. You take my claim and goand collect it this afternoon,' says I.
"'No,' he hesitated, 'it's too much responsibility. I'll trust you forthe money and you can pay me afterward.'
"But with that, ass that I was, I fell to begging him to take the claim,and saying he must take it, just to show he believed I trusted him; andso after a while he reluctantly yielded and filled out a paper, and Isigned it and got in the warden as a witness, and he rose to go.
"'Well, till this afternoon,' says he.
"'_Au revoir_,' I laughed, 'get yourself a bottle of wine for me,' saysI. And off he goes.
"As I passed back to the cells, who should I see beside the door but myold lawyer.
"I shook my fist in his face.
"'You old robber,' I says, 'we'll see if I can't get along without you!'
"He sneered in my face.
"'Oh, you ---- fool!' says he, 'you poor, poor, ----, ---- fool!'
"Then he was gone. So I went back to the cell, and sang and whistled andfigured on where I should take my little Flossie for dinner. I waitedand waited. Six o'clock, and no word. Then I began to get nervous.
"'You poor, poor, ----, ---- fool!'
"The words rang around in my cell. Then something sort of gave inside. Iknew I'd been robbed, and I yelled and shook the bars of the door andtried to get out. I cried for Flossie. The keepers came and told me tokeep still; but I was plump crazy, and kept on yelling until everythinggot black and I fainted."
"And your lawyer never came back?"
"He never came back!" Riggs exclaimed. "He never came back! I've beenrobbed! I'm a poor ---- fool, just as Todd said I was." Riggs burst intomaudlin tears.
I gave him what consolation I could, and promised thoroughly toinvestigate his story.
The keeper and Riggs arose in unison, the same urbane smile that hadpreviously illuminated the countenance of the latter restored.
"You couldn't manage to let me have a handful of cigars, could you?" hewhispered. I gave him all I had. His cheek was irresistible. I wouldhave given him my watch had he intimated a desire for it.
Then I called up the
Custom-house.
"Paid?" came back the voice of the United States District Attorney. "Ofcourse not. The claim is worthless until the diamond is sold; and,anyway, such an assignment as you describe is invalid under ourstatutes. You had better execute a revocation, however, and place it onfile here. Yes, I'll look out for the matter."
One day, about a week later, I was informed that Riggs had beenconvicted of assault, and sentenced to a year's imprisonment onBlackwell's Island. A jury of his peers had apparently proved lesscredulous than myself.
Many strange epistles from his place of confinement now reached me,hinting of terrible abuses, starvation, oppression, extortion. He wasstill the victim of a conspiracy--this time of prison guards and fellowconvicts. He prayed for an opportunity to lay the facts before theauthorities. I threw the letters aside. It was clear he possessed apowerful imagination, and yet his tale of the discovery of the diamondhad been absolutely true. Well, let the law take its course.
* * * * *
A year later a jovial-looking person called at my office, and Irecognized my old friend Riggs in a new brown derby hat and checkedsuit.
After shaking hands warmly, he presented me with a card reading:
P. LLEWELLYN RIGGS, Private Detective, -- Broadway.
"Yes," he explained in answer to my surprised expression, "I've goneinto the detective business. My unfortunate conviction is only a sort ofadvertisement, you know, and then I was the victim of an outrageousconspiracy!"
"But," said I, "I thought you were going to retire on the proceeds ofthe diamond."
"Why, haven't you heard?" he replied. "I gave my wife an assignment ofthe claim with a power of attorney, and when the diamond was sold sheran away."
"Ran away?"
"Yes; she took a friend of mine with her. But I shall find her--just asI did the diamond!" He struck a Sherlock Holmes attitude. "By the way,if you should ever want any detective work done you'll remember----"
"I am not likely to forget," I answered, "the victim of one of the mostremarkable conspiracies in history."
* * * * *
Meantime the Mexicans were tried, convicted, and sent to prison. Thejewels themselves were duly made the subject of condemnationproceedings, and whoso peruseth The Federal Reporter for the year 1901may read thereof under the title "The United States _vs._ One DiamondPendant and Two Ear-rings." They were, so to speak, tried, properlyconvicted, and sold to the highest bidder. The Mexicans are stillserving out their time. One turned state's evidence, stating that he wasa musician and had won the love of a beautiful senorita in the city ofMexico who had given him the gems to sell in order that they might havemoney upon which to marry. He also protested that his sweetheart hadinherited them from her mother.
Inside the cover of the old red case is printed in gold letters:
LA ESMERALDA.
F. CAUSER ZIHY & CO., Mexico and Paris.
And a faintly scented piece of violet note-paper lies beneath the doublelining, containing, in a woman's hand, this:
The diamond necklace is from Maximilian's crown, the Emperor of Mexico. The centre stone has thirty-three and seven-tenths carats, and the eighteen surrounding it no less than one each. The diamond ring, the stone thereof, was in Maximilian's ring at the time he was shot.
But that is all; there is nothing to tell what hand snatched the jewelsfrom the lifeless fingers of the dead Emperor, or who purloined thenecklace from the royal household.
In a dusty compartment on my desk there lies a brown manila envelope,and sometimes, when the day's work is over and I have glanced for thelast time across the court-yard of the Tombs at the clock tower on theNew York Life Building, I take it out and idly read the press story ofthe famous diamond. And there rises dimly before me the pathetic sceneat Queretaro where a brave and good man met his death, and I wonder ifperchance there is any truth in the superstition that some stones carryill-luck with them. But it is a far cry from the Emperor of Mexico to aNew York bill-poster.
* * * * *
Dockbridge threw the manuscript on his desk and lit a cigarette.
"Is that all?" asked the lank deputy, stretching himself. "I thought itwas going to have some sort of a plot."
"It's a pretty good story," said the chief of staff. "Have you reallygot any clippings?"
"I think it's rotten!" remarked Bob.
"Well, it's every word of it true, anyway," muttered Dockbridge.