LITMIR.BIZ

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mine. I haven’t any more notion what became of the Herringdale jewels than the duchess of Herringdale herself.”

      “What?” I cried. “Then these surroundings—”

      “Are self-furnishing,” she said, with a merry little laugh, “and all through a plan of my own, Bunny. This house, as you may not be aware, is the late residence of Mr. and Mrs. Constant Scrappe—”

      “Who are suing each other for divorce,” I put in, for I knew of the Constant Scrappes in social life, as who did not, since a good third of the society items of the day concerned themselves with the matrimonial difficulties of this notable couple.

      “Precisely,” said Henriette. “Now Mrs. Scrappe is in South Dakota establishing a residence, and Colonel Scrappe is at Monte Carlo circulating his money with the aid of a wheel and a small ball. Bolivar Lodge, with its fine collection of old furniture, its splendid jades, its marvellous Oriental potteries, paintings, and innumerable small silver articles, is left here at Newport and for rent. What more natural, dear, than that I, needing a residence whose occupancy would in itself be an assurance of my social position, should snap it up with an eagerness which in this Newport atmosphere amounted nearly to a betrayal of plebeian origin?”

      “But it must cost a fortune!” I cried, gazing about me at the splendors of the room, which even to a cursory inspection revealed themselves as of priceless value. “That cloisonné jar over by the fireplace is worth two hundred pounds alone.”

      “That is just the reason why I wanted this particular house, Bunny. It is also why I need your assistance in maintaining it,” Mrs. Raffles returned.

      “Woman is ever a mystery,” I responded, with a harsh laugh. “Why in Heaven’s name you think I can help you to pay your rent—”

      “It is only twenty-five hundred dollars a month, Bunny,” she said.

      My answer was a roar of derisive laughter.

      “Hear her!” I cried, addressing the empty air. “Only twenty-five hundred dollars a month! Why, my dear Henriette, if it were twenty-five hundred clam-shells a century, I couldn’t help you pay a day’s rental, I am that strapped. Until this afternoon I hadn’t seen thirty cents all at once for nigh on to six months. I have been so poor that I’ve had to take my morning coffee at midnight from the coffee-wagons of the New York, Boston, and Chicago sporting papers. In eight months I have not tasted a table-d’hôte dinner that an expert would value at fifteen cents net, and yet you ask me to help you pay twenty-five hundred dollars a month rent for a Newport palace! You must be mad.”

      “You are the same loquacious old Bunny that you used to be,” said Mrs. Raffles, sharply, yet with a touch of affection in her voice. “You can’t keep your trap shut for a second, can you? Do you know, Bunny, what dear old A. J. said to me just before he went to South Africa? It was that if you were as devoted to business as you were to words you’d be a wonder. His exact remark was that we would both have to look out for you for fear you would queer the whole business. Raffles estimated that your habit of writing-up full accounts of his various burglaries for the London magazines had made the risks one hundred percent bigger and the available swag a thousand percent harder to get hold of. ‘Harry,’ said he the night before he sailed, ‘if I die over in the Transvaal and you decide to continue the business, get along as long as you can without a press-agent. If you go on the stage, surround yourself with ‘em, but in the burglary trade they are a nuisance.’”

      My answer was a sulky shrug of the shoulders.

      “You haven’t given me a chance to explain how you are to help me. I don’t ask you for money, Bunny. Four dollars’ worth of obedience is all I want,” she continued. “The portable property in this mansion is worth about half a million dollars, my lad, and I want you to be—well, my official porter. I took immediate possession of this house, and my first month’s rent was paid with the proceeds of a sale of three old bedsteads I found on the top floor, six pieces of Sèvres china from the southeast bedroom on the floor above this, and a Satsuma vase which I discovered in a hall-closet on the third floor.”

      A light began to dawn on me.

      “Before coming here I eked out a miserable existence in New York as buyer for an antique dealer on Fourth Avenue,” she explained. “He thinks I am still working for him, travelling about the country in search of bargains in high-boys, mahogany desks, antique tables, wardrobes, bedsteads—in short, valuable junk generally. Now do you see?”

      “As Mrs. Raffles—or Van Raffles, as you have it now?” I demanded.

      “Oh, Bunny, Bunny, Bunny! What a stupid you are! Never! As Miss Pratt-Robinson,” she replied. “From this I earn fifteen dollars a week. The sources of the material I send him—well—do you see now, Bunny?”

      “It is growing clearer,” said I. “You contemplate paying the rent of this house with its contents, is that it?”

      “What beautiful intelligence you have, Bunny!” she laughed, airily. “You know a hawk from a hand-saw. Nobody can pass a motor-car off on you for a horse, can they, Bunny dear? Not while you have that eagle eye of yours wide open. Yes, sir. That is the scheme. I am going to pay the rental of this mansion with its contents. Half a million dollars’ worth of contents means how long at twenty-five hundred dollars a month? Eh?”

      “Gad! Henriette,” I cried. “You are worthy of Raffles, I swear it. You can be easy about your rent for sixteen years.”

      “That is about the size of it, as these Newport people have it,” said Mrs. Raffles, beaming upon me.

      “I’m still in the dark as to where I come in,” said I.

      “Promise to obey my directions implicitly,” said Henriette “and you will receive your share of the booty.”

      “Henriette—” I cried, passionately, seizing her hand.

      “No—Bunny—not now,” she remonstrated, gently. “This is no time for sentiment. Just promise to obey, the love and honor business may come later.”

      “I will,” said I.

      “Well, then,” she resumed, her color mounting high, and speaking rapidly, “you are to return at once to New York, taking with you three trunks which I have already packed, containing one of the most beautiful collections of jade ornaments that has ever been gathered together. You will rent a furnished apartment in some aristocratic quarter. Spread these articles throughout your rooms as though you were a connoisseur, and on Thursday next when Mr. Harold Van Gilt calls upon you to see your collection you will sell it to him for not less than eight thousand dollars.”

      “Aha!” said I. “I see the scheme.”

      “This you will immediately remit to me here,” she continued, excitedly. “Mr. Van Gilt will pay cash.”

      I laughed. “Why eight thousand?” I demanded. “Are you living beyond your—ah—income?”

      “No,” she answered, “but next month’s rent is due Tuesday, and I owe my servants and tradesmen twenty-five hundred dollars more.”

      “Even then there will be three thousand dollars over,” I put in.

      “True, Bunny, true. But I shall need it all, dear. I am invited to the P. J. D. Gasters on Sunday afternoon to play bridge,” Henriette explained. “We must prepare for emergencies.”

      I returned to New York on the boat that night, and by Wednesday was safely ensconced in very beautifully furnished bachelor quarters near Gramercy Square, where on Thursday Mr. Harold Van Gilt called to see my collection of jades which I was selling because of a contemplated five-year journey into the East. On Friday Mr. Van Gilt took possession of the collection, and that night a check for eight thousand dollars went to Mrs. Van Raffles at Newport. Incidentally, I passed two thousand dollars to my own credit. As I figured it out, if Van Gilt was willing to pay ten thousand dollars for the stuff, and Henriette was willing to take eight thousand dollars for it, nobody was the loser by my pocketing two thousand

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