The Strange Adventures of Mr. Middleton

by Wardon Allan Curtis

  _What Befell Mr. Middleton Because of the Seventh Gift of the Emir._

  "I did not know that such things were possible," said Mr. Middleton,when Prince Achmed had concluded the tale of the episode of the twoOrientalists and the faithless woman. "Do I understand that the personin this condition is asleep?"

  "It is not consistent with strict scientific accuracy to say theperson is asleep," said the emir; "for the vital processes areentirely in abeyance and the subject is devoid of any evidence oflife. The pulse is still, for the heart no longer beats and all theblood having retreated to that inmost citadel of the body, the skinhas the pallor of death. Only in a little spot upon the crown is thereany sign of life. Here is a place warm to the touch and the first andmost important operation in restoring the suspended animation, is tosend this vital warmth forth from where it still feebly simmers,coursing once more through the body's shrunken channels. This isaccomplished by shaving the crown and applying thereto a succession ofpiping hot pancakes. The tongue has been curved back over the entranceto the throat. You reach into the mouth and with a finger pull thetongue back into place. Plugs of wax in the nostrils and ears areremoved, and in a very short time the subject is as well as ever."

  "It is very interesting," murmured Mr. Middleton.

  "Since you find it so, let me present you with a little treatise uponthe subject written by a Mohammedan hakim, or doctor of medicine,after studying several cases of the kind at Madras, which is inIndia," and at his bidding, Mesrour brought him a small portablewriting desk from which he took a manuscript scroll inscribed in theArabic language. "The first page," said Prince Achmed, "contains a fewthoughts upon the superiority of the Moslem faith over all others anda discussion of the follies, inconsistencies, not to say evils of themall when compared with that perfect religious system declared to menby the Prophet of Mecca," and having in an orotund voice given Mr.Middleton some idea of the contents of this page by quoting a numberof sentences, the prince handed him the sheet, which was inscribedupon one side only. The emir continuing to give a summary of what thehakim set forth in the remaining pages, and handing over each sheet ashe finished it, Mr. Middleton wrote in short-hand upon the blank sideof each preceding sheet what the emir culled from the one following,omitting, of course, the contents of the first sheet, both because hehad nothing to write upon while the emir was quoting from that one,and because its theology was entirely contrary to all Mr. Middletonheld, and, in his eyes, ridiculous and sacrilegious. When the emir haddone, Mr. Middleton had in his possession a succinct account of theprocess of inducing a condition of suspended animation and of themeans of restoring the subject to his normal state. It was hisintention to write an article from his notes for some Sunday paper,and putting the hakim's treatise in his pocket, and thanking his hostfor the entertainment and instruction as well as the gift, he soughthis lodgings.

  Mr. Middleton had now been admitted to the bar for some time. But thefirm of Brockelsby and Brockman did not therefore raise his salary.They made greater demands upon his endeavors than before, for he wasnow able to handle cases in court, but they did not raise his salary,nor did they employ him upon cases where he was able to distinguishhimself, or learn new points of law and gain forensic ability. He wasemployed upon humdrum and commonplace cases that were a vexation tohis spirit without any compensating advantage of pecuniary reward orexperience. While he felt that his self-respect and on one hand hisself-interests impelled him to resign his connection with Brockelsbyand Brockman, on the other hand, the very course his employers pursuedmade such retirement temporarily inexpedient. For the trivial cases hehandled could neither gain him reputation enough or make him friendsenough to warrant him in setting up for himself, nor would theyattract the attention of other firms and result in offers at anincreased salary. He was in a measure forced to remain with Brockelsbyand Brockman, hoping they would be moved to pay him according to hisworth and dreaming of some contingency which might place in his handsthe management of an important case with the resulting enhancing ofhis reputation.

  On the morning after he had received the dissertation of the hakim,Mr. Middleton arose with the first streak of dawn, minded to seek theoffice and write his projected article before the time for his regularduties should arrive. As he opened the door of the main office, hisear was saluted by a low grunting sound, and there in evening dresswas Mr. Augustus Alfonso Brockelsby, reclining in a big chair, asleep,if one could with propriety call the stupor in which he was sunk,sleep. The disorder of his garments, the character of hissternutations, the redness of his face, and above all, the odor hedistilled upon the chill morning air, made patent to Mr. Middleton thedisgusting fact that the senior member of the firm was drunk. On thetable before the unconscious man was a note from Mr. Brockmaninforming him that he had been unexpectedly called to Lansing,Michigan, and would not be back for a week and that therefore he,Brockelsby, would have to attend to the important case of Ralstonversus Hippenmeyer, all by himself. Mr. Middleton at once set aboutbringing his employer into a condition where he could attend to hisaffairs, for the case of Ralston versus Hippenmeyer was a veryimportant one indeed, and as Mr. Middleton had briefed the casehimself and had his sympathies greatly excited for JohannesHippenmeyer, he was very anxious that their client should not lose fordefault of any effort he could make. But his heart was heavy as hebrought towels and a basin of cold water from the wash-room, for afterhe had done his very best, Brockelsby would still be far from theproper form, his brain befogged, his speech thick, and the counsel forthe other side would make short work of him.

  Mr. Middleton had never tried to sober a drunken man, but he had anindistinct recollection of hearing that a towel wet with cold water,wrapped around the head was the best remedial agent. As he soaked thetowels, he could not but compare the difference between this chillrestorative and the hot cakes in the tale of the emir, and on a suddenthere came to him a thought that sent all the gloom from his face. Hedropped the towels, he dropped the basin, and he opened the treatiseof the hakim and feverishly refreshed his memory of the details of anoperation sometimes practised in India.

  An hour and a half had passed when Mr. Middleton finished. Mr.Augustus Brockelsby still sat in the revolving chair, but he was nolonger disturbing the air with his unseemly grunts. He was, in fact,absolutely silent, absolutely still. The keenest touch could feel nopulsation in his wrist, the keenest eye could detect no agitation ofhis chest, the keenest ear could hear no beating from the region ofthe heart. For a moment as he gazed upon the result of following theinstructions set down by the hakim, Mr. Middleton felt a little clutchof fear. But he was reassured by the lifelike appearance of thelearned jurisconsult and by the fact that the induction into hispresent state had been attended by none of the manifestations thataccompany death.

  "Now," said Mr. Middleton, addressing the unconscious form of AugustusBrockelsby, "now there will be no chance of you appearing in court inthe case of Ralston versus Hippenmeyer. I will not restore you untilit is all over. I will now have the long coveted opportunity to pleadan important case and as I have studied it so carefully, I shall win.There will now be no chance that poor little Hippenmeyer will sufferfrom your disgraceful and bestial habits, for in spite of the bestthat could be done for you, you would be in no fit condition to pleada case this afternoon. And when I bring you to at fall of night, youwill think you have been drunk all day. But where will I keep you inthe meantime?"

  This was a most perplexing problem. There were no closets in the suiteof offices. There were no boxes, no desks big enough to conceal a manand Mr. Middleton's brow was beginning to contract as he struggledwith the problem, when suddenly the stillness of the room wasdisturbed by some one smiting the door. Not a sound made he, for hisheart had stopped beating as completely as Brockelsby's. What shouldhe do, what should he do? The paralysis of fear answered for him andsupplied the best present plan and he did nothing. Then came a voice,a voice calling him by name, the voice of Chauncy Stackelberg.

  "Open up, old man, op
en up. I know you are there, for I heard youknocking around before I rapped and you dropped your handkerchiefoutside the door. Open up, or I'll shin right over the transom, for Imust see you," and still preserving silence, Mr. Middleton heard asound as of a man essaying to stand on the door knob and grasp thetransom above. He rushed to the door, unlocked it, and opening it justenough to squeeze through, shut it behind him and thrust the key inthe lock.

  "Keep still, keep still. You'll wake the old man. I can't let you in."

  "Was that him, slumped down in the chair? Must be tired to sleep inthat position. Say, old chap, you were my best man, and now I want youagain."

  "Want me to draw up papers for a divorce?" said Mr. Middleton,gloomily. How was he going to get rid of this inopportune fellow?

  "Shut up," said Chauncy Stackelberg. "It's a boy, and I want you tocome up to the christening next Sunday and be godfather. You don'tknow how happy I am. Say, come on down and get a drink."

  Ten minutes before, Mr. Middleton had been convinced that drink was avery great curse, but he accepted this invitation with alacrity,naming a saloon two blocks away as the one he considered best in thatvicinity. He surmised that the happy father would hardly offer to comeback with him from such a distance, and the surmise was correct. As hereascended to the office, with him in the elevator were two gentlemen,one of whom he recognized as Dr. Angus McAllyn, a celebrated surgeonwho had two or three times come to the office to see Mr. Brockelsbyand the other as Dr. Lucius Darst, a young eye and ear specialist whowithin the space of but a few days had established his office in thebuilding. To neither of these gentlemen, however, was Mr. Middletonknown.

  "I want you to get off on this floor with me," said Dr. McAllyn to hismedical confrere. "I may want your assistance a bit. You see," he wenton, as they got out of the elevator and started down the corridor withMr. Middleton just behind, "we had a banquet last night of the Societyof Andrew Jackson's Wars, and my friend Brockelsby got too muchaboard. He was turned over to me to take to his home, but just as wewere leaving, I received an urgent call. So the best I could do was todrive by here and start him toward his office and go on. He couldnavigate after a fashion and doubtless spent the night all right inhis office, and I would take no farther trouble with him but for thefact that he has an important case to-day. So I want to fix him up,and as I haven't much time, you can be of service to me."

  "Ah, ha," said Mr. Middleton to himself, "I'll just lie low until theyhave given up trying to get in and have gone."

  But they did not go away. To his consternation, they opened the doorand walked in, for though he had put the key in the lock when he hadclosed the door behind him to parley with Chauncy Stackelberg, he hadwalked away without turning it! They would find Mr. Brockelsby! Greatthough Dr. McAllyn was, he would hardly be likely to recognize acondition of suspended animation. Unless Mr. Middleton confessed,there was danger that the famous forensic orator would be buriedalive. And if he confessed, what would the consequences be to himself?The fact that in whatever event he would lose his place and be amarked and disgraced man, was the very least thing to consider. He wasthreatened with far more serious dangers than that. First, there wouldbe the vengeance the law would take upon him for meddling with andtampering with medical matters. But even if he had been a physician,would the medical faculty look otherwise than with horror upon thisrash and wanton experimenting with the strange and unholy practices ofIndia? Even a medical man would be arrested for malpractice and fordepriving a fellow being of the use of his faculties. The penitentiarystared him in the face.

  He could not endure not to know what was taking place within. He musthave knowledge of everything in order to know what moves to make andwhen to make them. He let himself through the outer door of Mr.Brockman's private office, and by taking a position by the doorcommunicating between this office and the main office, he could heareverything in safety.

  "Shall I send for an undertaker?" asked Dr. Darst.

  At these chilling words, Mr. Middleton was about to open the privateoffice door and rush in and confess all. He had begun to place the keyin the lock, when a joyful thought stayed his hand. Let them bury Mr.Brockelsby. He would dig him up. He laughed noiselessly in his intenserelief. But hark, what does he hear?

  "Darst, this is an unusual case."

  "Yes?" said Dr. Darst mildly.

  "A strange, a remarkable case. Darst, if we do not examine this case,we are traitors to science. Darst, we must take him to the medicalschool. When we are through, we'll sew him all again and bring himback here, or leave him almost any place where he can be found easily.He will be just as good to bury then as now, nobody hurt, and thecause of science advanced. Observe, Darst, dead, absolutely dead, yetwith no rigor mortis. Dead, and yet as if he slept. If need be, wewill pursue to the inmost recesses of his being the secret of hisdemise."

  Mr. Middleton was nigh to falling to the floor. The succession of hopeand fear had taken from him all resolution. Of what use would it be toexhume Mr. Brockelsby after the doctors had cut him up? The impulse torush in and confess had spent itself and he was now cravenly driftingwith the tide. All judgment, all power of reflection had departed fromhim. He was now only a pitiable wretch with scarcely strength to standby the door and listen, unable to originate any thought, any action.

  "How are you going to get him out of here?" asked Dr. Darst.

  "In a box. You don't suppose I'd carry him down and put him in ahack?"

  "But suppose they get to looking for him? It is known that he camehere. A box goes out of here to be taken to the medical school, a longbox that might hold a man. You and I are the ones who hire the men whocarry the box."

  "Who said a long box that might hold a man? It will be a short, rathertall box, packing-case shape. Remember, he is as limber as you are andcan be accommodated to any position. He will be put in it sitting boltupright. It will be only half the length of a man, with nothing in itsshape to suggest that it might hold a man. Who said take it to themedical school from here? I hire a drayman to take a box to the UnionDepot. He dumps it there on the sidewalk near the places for in-goingand out-going baggage. Ostensibly going to carry it as excess baggage.We fiddle around until he goes, then call up some other drayman in thecrowd hanging about and take a box just arrived from Milwaukee, St.Paul, any place the drayman wants to think, out to the college. As forthe inquiry that will be made concerning the whereabouts ofBrockelsby, rest easy on that point. He frequently goes off on spreesof several days' duration and his absence from home is of such commonoccurrence that his wife won't begin to hunt him up until we arethrough with him and have got him back here, or have dumped him infront of some building with his neck broken, showing that he fell outof some story above."

  All this Mr. Middleton heard as he leaned against the door jamb,swallowing, swallowing, with never a thing in his mouth since thenight before, yet swallowing. He heard Dr. Darst go after a box. Heheard men deposit it in the corridor outside. He heard the two doctorstake it in when the men had gone. He heard it go heavily out into thecorridor again after a long interval. He heard more men come, come tocarry it away, and he pulled himself together with a supreme effortand followed. He saw the box loaded on a dray. With his eye constantlyon it, he threaded his way through the crowd on the sidewalk, followedit on its way across the river to the Union Depot. With never a hopein his heart that anything could possibly occur to save him from afinal confession and its consequences, humanlike postponing the evilhour as long as he could.

  The box was dumped upon the sidewalk before the depot. The two medicalmen stood leaning upon it, waiting for the drayman to depart. The evilmoment had arrived. Once away from the depot, in the less congestedstreets in the direction of the medical college, the dray would go toofast for him to follow. He approached. He must speak now. No, no. Heneed not follow the dray. That was not necessary. He could get to themedical school before they could have time to do injury to Mr.Brockelsby. It would be safe to let the box get out of his sight forthat little time. He woul
d tell at the medical college.

  "Yes, as soon as we get him there," said Dr. McAllyn, "we'll put himin the pickle."

  Mr. Middleton sprang forward and put an appealing hand upon theshoulder of either doctor. With a sudden start that caused him tostart in turn, each wheeled about. For a moment, he could say nothingand stood with palsied lips while they gave back his stare. Gave backhis stare? All at once his mouth came open and these were the words heheard issue forth:

  "Sirs, I arrest you for stealing the body of Mr. Augustus AlfonsoBrockelsby, attorney-at-law."

  He who had just now been an abject, grovelling wretch, was of a suddencome to be a lord among men. The practitioners making no reply, hecontinued:

  "Are you going to be sensible enough to make no trouble, or shall Ihave to call yonder officer?"

  Mr. Middleton considered this quite a master stroke. By the assumptionof a pretended authority over the neighboring policeman he wouldforestall any possibility of resistance and question as to whatauthority he represented. But he need have had no fears on this score.The doctors were too alarmed to do otherwise than submit to hispleasure, too thoroughly convinced that none but a detective couldhave had knowledge of the contents of the box. But Dr. McAllyn didattach a significance to what Mr. Middleton had said, a significancenatural to one so well acquainted with the devious ways of the greatcity as he was.

  "Well," he said, with a sardonic smile, "you needn't call in help. Westand pat. How much is it going to cost us?"

  Then did Mr. Middleton perceive he was delivered from a dilemma, adilemma unforeseen, but which even if foreseen, he could not haveforearmed against. After he had arrested the doctors, how would hehave disposed of them and the box containing Mr. Brockelsby? How couldhe have released the doctors and carried off the box in a manner thatwould not excite their suspicions? If he had, in pretended leniencyand soft-heartedness told them they were free, the absence of anyapparent motive for this action would have instantly caused them tosuspect that for some unknown and probably unrighteous reason, hedesired possession of the body of Mr. Brockelsby and thus would ensuea series of complications that would make the ruse of the arrest but aleap from the frying pan into the fire. But now Dr. McAllyn hadsupplied the motive.

  "Sirs," said Mr. Middleton, with an air of virtue that was well suitedto the character of the sentiments he now began to enunciate, "youdeserve punishment. You have been taken in the act of committing acrime that is particularly revolting,--stealing a corpse. Dr. McAllyn,you have been apprehended in foul treason against friendship. You havestolen the body of a comrade. You have meditated cruel and shockingmutilation of this body, giving to the horror-stricken eyes of thefrantic widow the mangled and defaced flesh that was once the goodlyperson of her husband, leaving her to waste her life in vain andterrible speculations as to where and how he encountered this awfuldeath with its so dreadful wounds."

  "It was for the sake of science," interpolated Dr. McAllyn, in nolittle indignation. "If from the insensible clay of the dead we maylearn that which will save suffering and prolong existence for theliving, well may we disregard the ancient and ridiculous sentimentregarding corpses, a relic of the ancient heathen days when it wasbelieved that this selfsame body of this life was worn again inanother world."

  "I will not engage in an antiquarian discussion with you, sir, as tothe origin of this sentiment. Suffice to say it exists and is one ofthe most powerful sentiments that rules mankind. You have attempted toviolate it, to outrage it. However you may look upon your action, thepenitentiary awaits you. Yet one can well hesitate to pronounce theword that condemns a fellow man to that living death. It is not themere punishment itself. The dragging years will pass, but what willyou be when they have passed? We no longer brand the persons ofconvicts, but none the less does the iron sear their souls and nonethe less does the world see with its mind's eye the scorched word'convict' on their brows, so long as they live. In the capacity ofjudge, were I one, I might use such limit of discretion as the lawallows in making your punishment lighter or heavier, but the disgraceof it, no one can mitigate. Therefore, that you may receive somemeasure of the punishment you deserve, and yet not be blasted forlife, I will accept a monetary consideration and set you free."

  "Oh, you will, will you?" said Dr. McAllyn. "How much lighter orheavier will you in your capacity as judge make this impost?"

  "I will not take my time in replying to your slurs in kind. You, Dr.McAllyn, as the one primarily responsible, as the leader who inducedDr. Darst to enter this conspiracy, as the one most to be reproached,in that Mr. Brockelsby was your friend, as the one by far the mostable to pay, you shall pay $1,200. Dr. Darst shall pay $200. This is apunishment by no means commensurate with your crime. By this forfeit,shall you escape prison and disgrace."

  "Of course you know that I have no such sum as that about me," saidDr. McAllyn. "I will write you a check."

  "I am not so green as I look," said Mr. Middleton, assuming an easysitting posture upon the box containing the mortal envelope of Mr.Brockelsby. "You may dispatch Dr. Darst with a check to get the moneyfor you and himself. You will remain here as a hostage until hisreturn."

  Accordingly, Dr. Darst departed and Mr. Middleton sat engrossed inreflection upon the chain of unpleasant circumstances that had forcedupon him the unavoidable and distasteful role of a bribe-taker. Yethow else could he have carried off the part he had assumed? How elsecould he have obtained custody of Mr. Brockelsby? And surely thedoctors richly deserved punishment. It was not meet that they shouldgo scot free and in no other way could he bring it about thatretribution should be visited upon them.

  "It is all here," said Mr. Middleton, when he had counted the billsbrought by Dr. Darst. "I shall now see that Mr. Brockelsby is takenback to the office whence you took him."

  "Pardon me," said Dr. Darst, "how in the world did you know we tookhim from his office? How did you ferret it all out?"

  "I cannot tell you that," said Mr. Middleton. "I shall take him backto the office. He will be found there later in the day, just as youfound him. You are wise enough to make no inquiries concerning him, towatch for no news of developments. Indeed, to make in some measure analibi, should it be needed, you had better leave town by next trainfor the rest of the day. If it were known you were with Mr. Brockelsbyat any time, might it not be thought that you were responsible for thecondition he was found in?"

  The doctors boarded the very next train, and Mr. Middleton, serene inthe knowledge that no one would disturb him now, had the box takenback and set up in the main office. A slight thump in the box as itwas ended up against the wall, caused Mr. Middleton to believe thatMr. Brockelsby was now resting on his head, but he resolved to allowthis unavoidable circumstance to occasion him no disquiet. Going to alarge department store where a sale of portieres was in progress, hepurchased some portieres and a number of other things. The portiereshe draped over the box, concealing its bare pine with shimmeringcardinal velvet and turning it into the semblance of a cabinet. Lestany inquisitive hand tear it away, he placed six volumes of Chitty anda bust of Daniel Webster upon the top and tacked two photographs ofMr. Brockelsby upon the front. Confident that no one would disturb thereceptacle containing his employer, he went into court and after ashort but exceedingly spirited legal battle in which he displayed aforensic ability, a legal lore, and a polished eloquence which few ofthe older members of the Chicago bar could have equalled, he won asignal victory.

  Although it was not his intention to set about restoring Mr.Brockelsby until an hour that would ensure him against likelihood ofinterruption, he returned to the office to see if by any untowardmischance anybody could have interfered with the box. To his surprise,he found Mrs. Brockelsby seated before that object of vertu with hereye straying abstractedly over the cardinal portieres, the photographsof Mr. Brockelsby, the bust of Daniel Webster, and the volumes ofChitty.

  "Oh, Mr. Middleton," exclaimed the lady. "Mr. Brockelsby did not comehome to-day and they tell me he wasn't in court."

&n
bsp; "No, he was not in court," said Mr. Middleton.

  "Oh, where, oh, where can he be!" moaned Mrs. Brockelsby.

  Mr. Middleton being of the opinion that this question was merelyexclamatory, ejaculatory in its nature, of the kind orators employ togarnish and embellish their discourse and which all books of rhetoricstate do not expect or require an answer, accordingly made no answer.He was, nevertheless, somewhat disturbed by the poor lady's grief andwished that it were possible to restore her husband to her instantly.

  "Oh, I have wanted to see him so, I have wanted him so! Oh, where canhe be, Mr. Middleton! I must find him. I cannot endure it longer. Iwill offer a reward to anyone who will bring him home withintwenty-four hours, to anyone who will find him. Oh, oh, oh, oh! I willgive $200. I will give it to you, yourself, if you will find him.Write a notice to that effect and take it to the newspaper offices."

  This great distress on the part of the lady was all contrary to whatDr. McAllyn had said concerning her indifference to the absence of herspouse and caused Mr. Middleton to feel very much like a guiltywretch. As he wrote out the notices for the papers, he reiteratedassurances that Mr. Brockelsby would turn up before morning, while thepartner of the missing barrister continued her heartbroken wailing andthe cause of it all was driven well-nigh wild.

  "Oh, if you only knew!" she said, as Mr. Middleton was about to departfor the newspaper offices. "Day after to-morrow, I am going toWashington to attend a meeting of the Federation of Woman's Clubs.That odious Mrs. LeBaron is going to spring a diamond necklace worthtwo thousand dollars more than mine. Augustus must come home in timeto sign a check so I can put three thousand dollars more into mine."

  A great load soared from Mr. Middleton's mind and blithe joy reignedthere instead.

  "Mrs. Brockelsby, I'll leave no stone unturned. I'll bring you yourhusband before breakfast," and escorting the lady to her carriage andhanding her in with the greatest deference and most courtly gallantry,he set forth for one of the more famous of the large restaurants whichare household words among the elite of Chicago. Mr. Middleton hadnever passed its portals, but with fourteen hundred dollars in hispocket and two hundred more in sight, he felt he could afford to givehimself a good meal and break the fast he had kept since the eveningbefore, for in the crowded events of the day, he had found time torefresh himself with nothing more substantial than an apple and a bagof peanuts, or fruit of the Arachis hypogea.

  As he sat down at a table in the glittering salle-a-manger, what washis great surprise and even greater delight, to see seated opposite,just slowly finishing his dessert--a small bowl of sherbet--habited ina perfectly-fitting frock coat with a red carnation in the lapel, theurbane and accomplished prince of the tribe of Al-Yam. Havingexchanged mutual expressions of pleasure at this unexpected encounter,Mr. Middleton, overjoyed and elated at the successes of the day, beganto pour into the ears of the prince a relation of the events that hadresulted from the gift of the treatise of the learned hakim of Madras,which is in India. He told everything from the beginning to the end.

  "In the morning," he said in conclusion, "I take Mr. Brockelsby homein a cab and get the two hundred dollars."

  "Alas, alas!" said Achmed mournfully, his great liquid brown eyesresting sorrowfully upon Mr. Middleton. "What a corrupting effect thehaste to get rich has upon American youth. My friend, it cannot bethat you intend to take the two hundred dollars?"

  "But I find old Brock, don't I?'

  "That is precisely what you do not do. You know where he is. You puthim there. How can you say you found him?"

  "All right, I won't do it," said Mr. Middleton, abashed at Achmed'sreproof, a reproof his conscience told him was eminently deserved.

  "I thank Allah," said the prince, "that I am an Arab and not anAmerican. The fortunes of my line, its glories, were not won in thevulgar pursuits of trade, in the chicanery of business, in the shadypaths of speculation, in the questionable manipulation of stocks andbonds. It was not thus that the ancient houses of the nobility ofEurope and the Orient built up their honorable fortunes. Never did themen of my house parley with their consciences, never did they strike atruce with their knightly instincts in order to gain gold. Ah, no,no," mused the prince, looking pensively up at the gaily decoratedceiling as he reflected upon the glories of his line; "it was in thenoble profession of arms, the illustrious practice of warfare that wewon our honorable possessions. At the sacking of Medina, the thirdprince of our house gained a goodly treasure of gold and preciousstones, and founded our fortune. In warfare with the Wahabees, weacquired countless herds and the territories for them to roam upon. Bydescents across the Red Sea into the realms of the Abyssinians, wetook hundreds of slaves. From the Dey of Aden we acquired one hundredthousand sequins as the price of peace. In the sacking of the citiesof Hedjaz and Yemen and even the dominions of Oman, did we gallantlygain in the perilous and honorable pursuit of war further store oftreasure. Ah, those were brave days, those days of old, those knightlydays of old! Faugh, I am out of tune with this vile commercial countryand this vile commercial age."

  The prince arose as he uttered these last words and in his rhapsodyforgetting the presence of Mr. Middleton, without a farewell hestalked through the great apartment, absentmindedly, though gracefullytwirling a pair of pearl gray gloves in the long sensitive fingers ofhis left hand. A little hush fell upon the brilliant assemblage andmany a bright eye dwelt admiringly upon the elegant person, soelegantly attired, of the urbane and accomplished prince of the tribeof Al-Yam.

  For some time Mr. Middleton sat plunged in abstraction, toying withthe three kinds of dessert he had ordered, as he meditated upon thewords of the emir. At last rousing himself, he had finished themarrons glacees and was about to begin upon a Nesselrode pudding, whenhe heard himself addressed, and looking up saw before him a youngwoman of an exceedingly prepossessing appearance. She was richlydressed with a quiet elegance that bespoke her a person of good taste.Laughing, roguish eyes illuminated a piquant face in which were to beseen good sense, ingenuousness and kindness, mingled withself-reliance and determination. Mr. Middleton knew not whether toadmire her most for the beautiful proportions of her figure, theloveliness of her face, or the fine mental qualities of which hercountenance gave evidence. With a delightful frankness in which therewas no hint of real or pretended embarrassment, she said:

  "Pray pardon this intrusion on the part of a total stranger. I haveparticular reasons for desiring to know the name and station of thegentleman who left you a short time ago, and knowing no one else toask, have resolved to throw myself upon your good nature. I will askof you not to require the reasons of me, assuring you that they areperhaps not entirely unconnected with the welfare of this gentleman. Iobserved from your manner toward one another that you wereacquaintances and that it was no chance conversation betweenstrangers. He is, I take it, an Italian."

  Without pausing to reflect that the emir might not be at all pleasedto have this young woman know of his identity, Mr. Middleton exclaimedhastily and with a gesture of expostulation:

  "Oh, no! He is not a Dago," and then after a pause he remarkedimpressively, "He is an Arab," and then after a still longer pause, hesaid still more impressively, "He is the Emir Achmed Ben Daoud,hereditary prince of the tribe of Al-Yam, which ranges on the bordersof that fertile and smiling region of Arabia known as Yemen, or Arabiathe Happy."

  "He is not a Dago!" said the young woman, clasping her hands withdelighted fervor.

  "He is not a Dago!" said another voice, and Mr. Middleton became awarethat at his back stood a second young woman scarcely less charmingthan the first. "He is not a Dago!" she repeated, scarcely lessdelighted than the first.

  Mr. Middleton arose and assumed an attitude which was at onceindicative of proper deference toward his fair questioners and enabledhim the better to feast his entranced eyes upon them. Moreover, on allsides he observed that people were looking at them and he needed noone to tell him that his conversation with these two daughters of thearistocracy was causing the as
semblage to regard him as an individualof social importance. He gave the emir's address upon Clark Street andafter dwelling some time upon his graces of person and mind, relatedhow it was that this Eastern potentate was resident in the city ofChicago in a comparatively humble capacity.

  "His brother is shut up in a vermillion tower."

  "Vermillion, did you say?" breathlessly asked the first young lady.

  "Oh, how romantic!" exclaimed the second young lady. "A tower ofvermillion! Is he good looking, like this one? Do you suppose he willcome here? Oh, Mildred, I must meet him. And the imam of Oman is goingto give the vermillion tower to the brother, when he is released. Wecould send one of papa's whalebacks after it. What a lovely house onPrairie Avenue it would make. 'The Towers,' we would call it. No,'Vermillion Towers.' How lovely it would sound on a card, 'Wednesdays,Vermillion Towers.' We must get him out. Can't we do it?"

  "If it were in this country," said Mr. Middleton, "I would engage toget him out. I would secure a writ of habeas corpus, or devise othermeans to speedily release him. But unfortunately, I am not admitted topractice in the dominions of Oman. But I do not pity the young man.One could well be willing to suffer incarceration in a tower ofvermillion, if he knew he were an object of solicitude to one so fairas yourself. One could wear the gyves and shackles of the mostterrible tyranny almost in happiness, if he knew that such lovely eyesgrew moist over his fate and such beauteous lips trembled when theytold the tale of his imprisonment."

  Now such gallant speeches were all very well in the days ofknee-breeches and periwigs, but in this age and in Chicago, they arean anachronism and the two young ladies started as if they hadsuddenly observed that Mr. Middleton had on a low-cut vest, or histrousers were two years behind the times, and somewhat curtly andcoolly making their adieus, they sailed rapidly away, leaving Mr.Middleton--who was not the most obtuse mortal in the world--tosavagely fill with large pieces of banana pie the orifice whence hadlately issued the words which had cut short his colloquy with the twobeauties. He deeply regretted that in his association with PrinceAchmed he had fallen into a flowery and Oriental manner of speech andresolved henceforth to eschew such fashion of discourse.

  The clocks were solemnly tolling the hour of midnight when Mr.Augustus Alfonso Brockelsby rubbed his eyes and sat up in therevolving chair in the main office of his suite. Mr. Middleton wasstanding near, hastily putting away a razor. A warm odor lay on thestill air of the room.

  "Hello, isn't it daylight yet?" asked Mr. Brockelsby. The hot cakesthat had but lately been applied to his shaven crown, seemed to havedispelled the fogs of intoxication and he was master of himself.

  "It is twelve o'clock," said Mr. Middleton.

  "Twelve! Why, it was three when I left the banquet table. Twelve!"

  "Twelve," said Mr. Middleton, pointing gravely to the clock on thedesk.

  "It--is--twelve. Don't tell me it is the day after."

  "I am compelled to do so. You were at the banquet of the Sons ofAndrew Jackson's Wars, twenty-four hours ago."

  "Great Scott!" exclaimed Mr. Brockelsby, thrusting his hands throughhis hair, or rather making the motion of doing so. "Great Scott!" herepeated, "I am bald-headed. What the devil have I been into? Wherethe devil have I been?"

  "I found you here this morning. Your wife has been here."

  "Oh, lord! Oh, lord! What did she say when she saw me dead to theworld--and bald-headed?"

  "She did not see you. I had concealed you."

  "Good boy, good boy."

  "She offered me two hundred dollars reward to bring you home," and Mr.Middleton related all that Mrs. Brockelsby had said.

  "It would be all off when she saw me bald-headed. What the devilwouldn't she suspect? I don't know. I would say I didn't know where Ihad been. That would certainly sound fishy. It would sound like apreposterous excuse to cover up something pretty questionable. Peopledon't go out in good society and get their heads shaved. She's prettyindependent and uppish now. She said the next time she knew of mecutting up any didoes, she would get a divorce. She comes into twohundred thousand from her grandfather's estate in six months and she'spretty independent. Say, my boy, can't you take a check for the moneyshe wants? She's going to Washington to-morrow. Tell her I went out oftown and sent the money. I _will_ go out of town. But the boys willsee my bald head. Where do you suppose I was? What sort of crowd was Iwith? I must have a wig. You must get it for me. The boys would joshme to death, and if the story got to my wife it would be all off. I'llgo to Battle Creek and get a new lot of hair started."

  Mr. Middleton sat down and wrote busily for a moment. He handed asheet of paper to Mr. Brockelsby.

  "What's this? You resign? You're not going to help me out?"

  "I am no longer in your employ. I will undertake to do all you ask ofme for a proper compensation, say one hundred and fifty a day for twodays."

  "What?" screamed Mr. Brockelsby. "This is robbery, extortion,blackmail."

  "It is what you often charge yourself. Very well. Get your own wig andbe seen on the streets going after it. Leave your wife to wonder why Ido not come to report what progress is made in the search for you andto start a rigorous investigation herself. I am under no obligationsnot to ease her worry, to calm her disturbed mind by telling her Ihave found you. She'll be hot foot after you then."

  "She'd spot the wig at once. It would fool others, but not her. She'dsee I had been jagged. You've got me foul. I'll have to accede to yourterms. You'll not give me away?"

  "Sir, I would not, in this, my first employment as an independentattorney, be so derelict to professional honor, as to betray thesecrets of my client. We have chosen to call this three hundreddollars--a check for which you will give me in advance--payment forthe services I am about to perform. In reality, I consider it onlypart of what you owe for the miserably underpaid services of the pastthree years."

  As Mr. Middleton wended his way homeward, it was with some melancholythat he recalled how, on previous occasions when good fortune hadadded to his stock of wealth, he had rejoiced in it because he saw hisdreams of marriage with the young lady of Englewood approachingrealization more and more. But now they had drifted apart. Not oncehad he seen her since that fatal night. On several evenings he hadmade the journey to Englewood and walked up and down before her house,but not so much as her shadow on the curtain had he seen. Let her makethe first move toward a reconciliation. If she expected him to do soafter her treatment of him, she was sadly mistaken.