An Artist in Crime. Ottolengui Rodrigues

once more became confused and stammered.

      "I don't know," then suddenly, and with complete composure again, "Yes, I think you are right. This is a copy from my picture. The portrait was made last summer, and afterwards I allowed the artist to exhibit it. I think photographs were made from it, and possibly some cameo cutter has used it for his work."

      This was ingenious, but not satisfactory to Mr. Barnes, for he knew that it was far from probable that another gem-cutter should have used the picture, and then have called it Juliet. Beside it would have been too great a coincidence to make a button of it. He decided therefore that the girl was doing the best she could to invent a plausible explanation to a question, which Mr. Mitchel himself had simply refused to answer. Not wishing to arouse any suspicion in her mind that he doubted her word, he replied quickly:

      "That is very likely, and surely he could not have chosen a better face for his subject."

      "Mr. Barnes," said Emily, "you offered just now to give me this, thinking that I had lost it. Of course I should not accept a present from one whom I have had the pleasure of knowing for so short a time, but you are Mr. Mitchel's friend, and as I would really prefer not to have my portrait in the hands of strangers, I accept your gift with thanks."

      This was entirely unexpected. When Mr. Barnes had made the remark that he would be glad to restore her her own, he had done so feeling safe, because to obtain it she would need to admit that she had lost it. Now it seemed that she had deprived him of his piece of evidence. He did not know what to say, when Mr. Mitchel walked across to them and remarked pleasantly:

      "Well, Emily, do you find my friend Mr. Barnes entertaining?"

      "Mr. Barnes has been most agreeable, Roy, and see, he has actually given me a present," saying which she handed the button to Mr. Mitchel across whose countenance Mr. Barnes thought he saw a fleeting smile of triumph pass.

      "I am proud of you, Emily. You command homage wherever you extend your influence. Do you know, Mr. Barnes refused to give this cameo to me, only this morning. You can guess why I wanted it."

      "Because it has my picture copied on it?"

      "Exactly. Mr. Barnes, allow me to add my thanks to those of Miss Remsen. You can readily appreciate why we prefer to have this bauble in our own possession?"

      Mr. Barnes thought that he could. He saw that he was fairly caught and that he could do nothing without making a scene. He met a glance from Mr. Mitchel which he knew was meant to remind him of his promise not to annoy Miss Remsen. He had about decided that he had been a fool to make such a promise and to have visited the place at all, when he suddenly changed his mind, as a servant announced:

      "Mr. Alphonse Thauret."

      Immediately the detective remembered the name. It was upon the card given to him by the Frenchman who had left the train at Stamford. He was watching Mr. Mitchel when the newcomer was thus unexpectedly announced, and he thought he detected a glance of displeasure. Were these two men acquainted, accomplices perhaps?

      "Mr. Mitchel, let me present Mr. Thauret," said Dora.

      "I have had the pleasure of meeting the gentleman before," replied Mr. Mitchel, and with a stiff bow he crossed to the side of Emily as though to prevent an introduction to her. This, of course, was impossible, and Mr. Mitchel was plainly annoyed. Emily stepped forward, extended her hand to Mr. Thauret, and then turning, presented him to Mr. Barnes, who had arisen, and who simply bowed.

      "Ah! Mr. Barnes," said the Frenchman, "I am delighted to meet you again."

      "Why, do you know Mr. Barnes also?" cried Dora greatly surprised.

      "Who does not know Mr. Barnes, the celebrated detective." He said this in that extremely polite tone so much assumed by his race, when inclined to be most complimentary. Yet Mr. Barnes thought that he had some sinister motive in thus proclaiming his connection with the police. Was it to prevent him from calling upon these women again? If so he failed to make the desired impression upon Dora, for that young woman seemed fairly enraptured.

      "A detective?" said she. "Are you really the great Mr. Barnes?"

      "I am a detective, but scarcely a great one."

      "Oh! but you are, you are! I read all about the wonderful way in which you caught that man Pettingill. And now tell me, are you going to catch the man who robbed the woman on the Boston train yesterday?"

      "How do you know that it is a man?" asked Mr. Barnes amused at her impetuosity, and pleased at the turn taken by the conversation.

      "Oh! it is not a woman. I am sure of that. I read about it in the papers this morning. I bought three so as not to miss anything. No woman would have been clever enough to plan it all, and then carry it out so thoroughly."

      "This is very interesting," said Mr. Thauret. "Of course I too have read the papers, but besides that, as you know, Mr. Barnes, I was on the train myself, and the first to be searched. I have thought of the case ever since. In my own country we claim that our detectives can unravel any mystery, and I am curious to know how you will manage in an affair of this kind. The thief evidently is clever, do you not think so?"

      Mr. Mitchel had drawn apart and apparently was absorbed in a conversation with Emily; nevertheless Mr. Barnes was confident that he missed little of what was being said by the group of which he himself was one. Under ordinary circumstances he would not for a moment have thought of speaking of so important a case before one who at least might be suspected of complicity. But these were not ordinary circumstances. Here were two men, about both of whom there was a mysterious connection with the crime, or crimes, which he was investigating. If either, or both, were guilty, it was evident from their courage in visiting unconcernedly at the very building in which the murder had been committed, that extreme skill would be required to obtain a conviction. The detective therefore considered that these men must be met with methods as bold as their own. Speaking in a tone loud enough to reach Mr. Mitchel's ears he said:

      "I think that the thief is clever, but that he is not so clever as he considers himself."

      "How is that?"

      "He believed – I say he, because like Miss Remsen, I think it is a man – "

      "How delightful of you to agree with me," said Dora.

      "This man then," continued Mr. Barnes, "considers that he has misled me. He thinks that when I directed that all the passengers should be searched, I did so hoping to find the lost jewels, whereas I was not looking for the jewels, but for the thief."