Life — February 15, 1883 — page 6: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

- LIFE: OUR ANGLOMANIAC NO. III. Why does he wear in the street a mysterious little over- coat that is too short for him? BECAUSE IN ENGLAND THEY FIND SHORT COATS CON- VENIENT TO WEAR ON HORSEBACK. BLOWN UPON; OR THE SAGACIOUS REPORTER. A DETECTIVE STORY. A MYSTERIOUS robbery had been committed, and, for the first time, the police were completely baffled. In broad daylight—for there was no elevated railway structure nor any sky-scraping pile in front of or opposite to the old-fashioned building—the book- keeper of the firm of Doowell and Squeelknot suddenly missed $15.01 which he had just counted over, while $143.75 which was near his elbow was undisturbed. He could offer no explanation of the disappearance of so small an amount of money when much more was easily accessible. The only conclusion that could be arrived at was that the book-keeper had been robbed ; and the robbery, as has been said, was a mysterious one. The book-keeper was above suspicion, for his salary was $10 a week, “Tell me all that you can remember about the rob- bery,” said the Inspector of Police to the book-keeper. “T was sitting at my desk, posting up the ledger,” said the bookkeeper, “and I opened a drawer to take out a sheet of blotting-paper. As I leaned over, I felt a strong draught on the top of the head—you will ob- serve that I am very bald—and I looked up and saw a man entering the door. I had hardly caught sight of him when my brain reeled and I became unconscious. When I recovered I found myself lying with my head on the desk, and $15.01 were missing. The man seemed to be one of those Polish emigrants who sell three collar-buttons for five cents and a pair of suspen- ders for a quarter of a dollar. I don’t remember that he approached my window.” The next day, several persons of Polish appearance who sold three collar-buttons for five cents, and a pair of suspenders for a quarter of a dollar, were arrested ; but all of them were discharged for lack of evidence, as none of them had $15.01 on his person. “Tt is too thin,” finally said the Inspector of Police. “How can a man haveacut on his chin if he’s struck with a stuffed club on the top of the head ?” “He’s bald-headed,” said a detective-sergeant, who was with the Inspector in the office of the firm. “Then he had no hair to strike through,” said the Inspector. While the two police-officers were consulting as to the advisability of obtaining a photograph resembling a Polish peddler of collar-buttons and suspenders, and sending it throughout the country with the offer of $25 reward for information that would lead to the ar- rest_and conviction of the robber, and no questions asked, a reporter of a morning paper entered as usual. “ Phew !” he exclaimed, as the door banged behind him, “what a draught. What’s new, Inspector ?” “There are no new developments in the robbery case to-day,” answered the inspector. “ But we have a clue,” said the detective sergeant. “ To tell what it is would defeat the ends of justice,” said the Inspector. “Lemme see the book-keeper,” said the reporter ; “T’d like to interview him.” “He’s at his desk,” said the Inspector and the ser- geant, spitting stiffly over their celluloid collars. But the book-keeper was not at his desk. In a mo- ment, however, there was a groan, then a faint cry, and the bookkeeper was seen staggering to his feet, his face pale, but his bald head glowing. “The robber! the robber !”” exclaimed the book- keeper. The Inspector and the sergeant were immediately on the alert, and surrounded the reporter, who calmly asked : “How much money have you lost this time?” The book-keeper counted his cash and said he had lost nothing. “Have you had occasion to.use a fresh sheet of blotting-paper since you were robbed ?” asked the re- porter. The book-keeper confessed that he had not, as busi- ness was dull. comicbooks.com