LITTLE OPERATION IN OPALS.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2670, 27 November 1909, Page 2 (Supplement)

LITTLE OPERATION IN OPALS.

When I tell that opal story to. fellows who are down and out,” said the lawyer, “it makes their own hard luck experiences sound like tales from Easy Street. Then they feel better. “As a prelude to the opal incident I took a course of instruction in legerdemain from a man whom I met at my athletic' club. One of the accomplishments he taught me was the trick of appropriating a poteket-book or extracting a scarfpin without inconveniencing the. owmer until l such time as he had occasion to use either of those valuable possessions. The professor pronounced me a remarkably apt pupil, and so proficient did I become that 1 was in constant demand at informal parlor entertainments, where I exploited' my feats of prestidigitation for the amusement of the guests. “Among my acquaintances who saw and lauded these performances was one person who obstinately refused to give me credit for my clever work. This wet blanket was a man named Osborne. Osborne was a clerk in the house where I was reading law, and a more conceited fellow I never saw. “ ‘You think you’ve got that juggling business down fine,’ he said, ‘and maybe you are rather finished for an amateur, hut you can’t fool me. I’ve had no end 1 of fellows a heap sight cleverer than you are— professional pickpockets some of them—take me for a mark, and try to> touch me, but they never could make it go.’ - “Osborne’s boasts nettled me, i an~ I made np my mind that some fine day I would catch him napping, and, just to prove my own dexterity and his falli- ' baiity, I would relieve him of that opal scarf-pin he always wore. At last my time came. One day, while out for luncheon, I saw Osborne in the door-way of an office building on the opposite side of the street. I knew the, exact location of the opal pin, and although [ could only catch a. glimpse of it in passing I raised my hand, and, with a nimbleness of finger that surprised yven myself, I removed the pin and hurried on into the lobby. •-//That building had a long corridor . running from street to street. I walkjjd—rapidly through to the other enrapee, nftdas I went I chuckled over the liseomfitu.re Osborne would experience, vhen I should return the opal pin an •

, jhour'henco/aaad iliow. iie:.liad :been , outdohe;-But - when VT- reached ' kthe back-'Street my 'reflections' assumed a , different complexion, for just as I step- ; ped over the threshold I ran with full . force against Osborne,r. who was en-, • tering the building. ' “The shock, of beholding the man • whom I flattered myself I had just robbed standing before me adorned with 1 my supposed plunder almost stunned • me. I seized has hands and pressed ■ them hard to make sure that I was not l the victim of some strange delusion, i ‘You here?’ I said weakly. ... “Naturally my conduct mystified Os-j i borne . ‘Yes,’ he said; ‘what of it? ; What’s wrong with,my being here? I’ve : been’out to luncheon and was taking this short cut to the office.’ “ ‘I thought,’ said -I, ‘that I met you a minute ago at the Nassau street entrance. I made sure it was you. There was a man there who looked for all j the .world., like you. He even wore the j same kind of checked suit and the same , brown derby hat. You’re sure you were r not there?’’ - “ ‘Certainly not,’ said Osborne. ‘How could-1 have been th'efe when I’m- just - getting back from the restaurant? i. . What’s the matter with you, anyhow ? k You seem to be cut up about something. r You look as if you had committed a crime and had been-'-caught’tin -tlie i act.’' “ v “'........ -..i- »• •' • l Osborne’s words hrought-me to a reali isation of the enormity of my mistake. .• ‘So I have,’ said I. .‘l’m guilty, but w f haven’t been caught yet. I’m liable to > be taken, though, any minute. I must - find that man who looks like you.’ ) “I turned and bolted down the corri- , dor on a dead run. The unfortunate man whose jewellery I had stolen un- - intentionally had left the doorway, a!l . unconscious of his loss, and none of the f passers-by of whom I distractedly made ; enquiry had noticed him or coujd tell -me any tiling concerning him. I was 3 thoroughly miserable all that afternoon and night. On the following morning [ I looked over the papers to see if the > owner of the opal had proclaimed his > loss abroad. He had not, but to make -j amends for lii§ strange silence concerning his misfortune I squandered money 3 recklessly on printer’s ink, and every t paper in town announced in glaring L type that I had “found’ a magnificent , opal—l called it ‘found’ for the Bake 1 of euphony and general appearances—- - which would be returned upon eatisfact--5 ory identification of the owner. T “I got down l to my office about nine 3 o’clock. Early though the hour, my fame had preceded me. As I passed the 3 cigar stand in the lobby of our buildj ing the man behind the counter called 7 me to stop. He pointed to the advertisement! and made some facetious rej matk about iny .-having gone into the jewellery business. I replied in an t equally idiotic strain, and then, acting j on a sudden impulse, I took, from myk pocket the small paper box in which 1 j had placed the pin and showed the opal to the man. Two or three, tenants of the building who had also seen the j notice came up, and we stood there for several minutes talking about the t casualties to wlicli the wearers of jew--3 ellery are liable and discussing the probabilities of the owner of the opal p showing up to claim it. Presently 1 , slipped the pin ,into a shallow .waistcoat pocket, where I had carried it previous- • ly and started! upstairs. The elevator was crowded. In my inevitable squirming of the human mass I found myself wedged in between two men, one of whom wore a grey checked suit and a brown derby hat. I knew at a glance that he was the victim of the day before, and that he had come to claim his opal. He got off at the seventh floor, as directed by the advertisement, and entered my office just be--1 hind me. He introduced himself as J. Cuthbert Bell. ’ “I came up in the elevator with you a moment ago,’ he said, ‘but I didn’t know who yo.u were, and, of course, you.didn’t know me. I called in answer . to that opal advertisement. I lost an opal pin yesterday. I thought the one you found might be mine.’ “Personally I had no doubt about the matter, but for the sake of my. reputation I thought it .best-to trans-. fix Mr. Bell for a brief period on the inquisitorial stake. Naturally the answers to all my questions were satisfactory, and at last I said:—The pin is undoubtedly yours. Here it is. I am, indeed, most glad to restore.it to you.’ “I felt in my waistcoat pocket for the jewel box, but the pocket was empty. “‘Merciful Father!’ I cried, I’ve been robbed! The pin is gone!’ ‘Bell retreated towards the door in alarm. ‘Gone!’ he echoed. ' “ ‘Yes,’ said I. ‘lt was in a little box which I had foolishly put in this outer pocket after stopping to show it to some men at the cigar stand. Somebody has stolen it coming up in the elevator.’ > . • “This new phase of the situatin was far more deplorable than any of the preceding developments, unfortunate though they had been. I grew really frantic as I ransacked my clothes in t the hope that I might have transferred the opal : absent-mindedly to an inner '.pocket for safe keeping. The hope .proved groundless, however, and I turned to Bell in despair. “ ‘I didn’t see any suspicious characters coming up in the elevator. Did you?’ I said. >- : 1 “‘No,-’ he said, ‘but the car was awfully crowded. You might ask the boy.’, .. ' ■ “As was to be- expected, the-thief, whoever he was, had cleared out. long before, even as I, in turn; had; scurried away with my booty. _ ‘lt’sno. use,’ said I, disconsolately. ‘Let’s go back into the office and talk it over.’ • . 1 “For a moment I was mute, but my conscience kept grinding away with maddening activity, and by and by -

I came- l to. a-decision. -Every r .day ;ypu read '•*>?'* deeds' df.'-heroism. ; that thrill you' 7 with -/admiration l fCT race, but when I think of the moral courage I displayed on that occasion I- feel really proud of myself*-and am disinclined to take a back seat for anybody in the race for laurel leaves. “‘Mr. Bell,’ E<aid I, ‘I didn’t find your opal. I stole it.’ And then, being red. hot for justice; I told him all aboht : my contemplated practical joke on Oslmrne and the lamentable outcome. ‘And now, I said in conclusion, ‘to prove to you that I am a man of honor... and not a contemptable.thief, as ! my Story must indicate, I am going to replace your opal. If you will come with me to a jeweller’s and pick out ft pin' which you consider a satisfactory substitute for the one I stole I will settle the bill. That is the best I can do in the way of reparation.’ “Bell’s dark face flushed a little. He showed considerable reluctanoe about agreeing to my proposition, but be finally consented on account of his wife, who, lie said, had given him the opal for a birthday present several years before. .-He was . very considerate in-the selection of his new pin. “ ‘I won’t try to get another just like that one,’ he said. ‘That was a very expensive stone. Wo can get one that will look' like for'ri'vgood deal less,‘‘find myi wife -will, never Jsnow the difference. As for myself,-nt doesn’tmatter, for, :as I said, I wouldn’t let you buy one at all if. it wasn’t for her.. I never.was much of a hand for jewellery, anyway.’ “Mr. Bell decided upon a pin valued at 55 dollars.' This price, although small reckoning from a jeweller’s standpoint, represented many little comforts which I' would be obliged to sacrifice in the coming weeks, and nothing but the strictest sense of integrity would have sustained me in the heroic act of restitution. The deal was finally consummated, however, and Mr Bell and I separated on terms of mutual understanding and good fellowship. > “I thought then that the tale of the opal had run its course, but about six months later, I was requested to go to Buffalo in the interests of our law firm. One day, while following up a thread of legal interest, I had occasion to " visit' a court-room where the trial of a man charged with theft and a host of minor offences was in progress. To my surprise the prisoner was none other than my old friend, J. Cuthhert Bell. The evidence against him was overwhelming, and within fifteen minutes after the charge to the jury he had been pronounced guilty and sentenced' to the maximum limit of imprisonment. After Bell had been taken back to his cell I obtained permission to speak to him. “ ‘I don’t know whether you remember me or not,’ I began. “Gh, yes, I do,’said he. ‘l’ll never forget you.’ “He smiled grimly while I expressed my sorrow at seeing him in Tiis present surroundings. “ ‘You’ll be a fine man in this business,’ he said, with an assumption of comradeship that was distinctly displeasing to me. ‘When I think of the slick way you touohed mo for my pin I always have to laugh at the way I evened tilings up with you.’ “‘Evened things up!’ I said in surprise., ‘lf I remember rightly, I did the “evening up,” and I did it to the tune of 55 dollars.’ “The smile on Bell’s face broadened into a laugh. “‘.Who do you think touched you for that opal in the elevator?’ he said. “I began to see tilings in a new light. I stared at Bell hard. “ ‘Not you!’ I gasped. “ ‘Me,’ said Bell.”