Part 22 (1/2)

”Oh!” said Mr. Gubb.

”Luckily,” said Mr. Medderbrook, ”I was able to prevail upon the registrar of the company to make the dividend only ten c.u.mulative per cents instead of eleven retroactive geometrical per cents, or you would now owe me thirteen thousand dollars.”

”Well, I'm sure I'm much obliged to you,” said Mr. Gubb with sincere grat.i.tude. ”I appreciate your kindness of good-will most greatly.”

He stood for a minute or two uneasily, while Mr. Medderbrook frowned like a great financier burdened with cares.

”I don't suppose,” said Mr. Gubb, when he had screwed up his courage, ”you have had no telegraphic communications from Miss Syrilla?”

”Why, yes, I have,” said Mr. Medderbrook, taking a telegram from his pocket, ”and it will only cost you one dollar to read it. I paid two dollars.”

Mr. Gubb was very glad to pay the small sum and he eagerly devoured the telegram, which read:--

Oh be joyful! Have given up all meat diet. Have given up beef, pork, lamb, mutton, veal, chicken, pigs' feet, bacon, hash, corned beef, venison, bear steak, frogs' legs, opossum, and fried snails. Weigh only nine hundred and forty pounds. Affectionate thoughts to little Gubby.

”I wish,” said Mr. Gubb wistfully, when he had read the message, ”that Miss Syrilla could be here present this week in Riverbank whilst the Carnival is going on.”

”She would draw a big crowd at twenty-five cents admission,” said Mr.

Medderbrook.

”I was thinking how pleasantly nice it would be for her to enjoy the festivities of the occasion,” said Mr. Gubb, but this was not quite true. What he wished was that she could be present to see him in the handsome disguise he had obtained for his work as Official Detective of the Carnival, and which he was now about to don.

This, the second day of the Third Riverbank Carnival, opened with a sun hot enough to frizzle bacon, and the ladies in charge of the lemonade, ice-cream and ice-cream cone booths were pleased, while the committee from Riverbank Lodge P.& G. M., No. 788, selling broiled frankfurters (known as ”hot dogs”), groaned. It was no day for hot food. But it was grand Carnival weather.

The grounds opened at one-thirty and the amateur circus began at two-thirty, but Philo Gubb, the detective, was on the grounds in full regalia by ten o'clock in the morning. Through some awful error on the part of the Chicago costumer, Philo Gubb's regalia had not arrived in time for the first day of the Carnival, so he had absented himself rather than let the crooks and thieves who were supposed to swarm the grounds have an opportunity to become acquainted with his appearance and thus be put on their guard against the famous Correspondence School detective.

When the Committee on Organization of the Third Carnival and Circus for the benefit of the Riverbank Free Hospital held its first public ma.s.s meeting in Willc.o.x Hall, Philo Gubb had been there. Like all the rest of Riverbank, he was willing to a.s.sist the good cause in any way he could, and he had meant to donate his services as official paper-hanger, but a grander opportunity offered. Mr. Beech, the Chairman of the Committee on Peanuts and Police Protection, offered Mr. Gubb the position of Official Detective. Mr. Gubb accepted eagerly.

During the weeks of preparation for the Carnival, a thousand plans for getting the better of pickpockets and other crooks pa.s.sed through Philo Gubb's mind. He finally decided to disguise himself as Ali Baba.

He had a slight recollection that Ali Baba had something to do with forty thieves. It seemed an appropriate _alias_.

His disguise he ordered from the Supply Department of the Rising Sun Detective Agency, where he bought all his disguises. It consisted of a tall conical cap spangled with stars, a sort of red Mother-Hubbard gown bespattered with black crescents, a small metal tube, and a wand.

With the metal tube came several hundred sheets of apparently blank paper, but, when these were rolled into cylinders and inserted in the metal tube for half a minute, characters appeared on the sheets. A child could work the magic tube, and so could Philo Gubb.

It was not until the second day that Mr. Beech thought of Mr. Gubb at all. Then Mrs. Phillipetti, daughter-in-law of General Phillipetti, who was Amba.s.sador to Siberia in 1867, asked for Mr. Gubb. Mrs.

Phillipetti was in charge of the Hot Waffles Booth, No. 13, aided by seventeen ladies of the highest society Riverbank could boast, and they served hot waffles with their own fair hands to all who chose to buy. The cooking of the waffles, being a warm task in late June, had been turned over to three colored women, hired for the occasion, and to complete the ”ongsomble” and make things perfectly ”apropos”--two of Mrs. Phillipetti's favorite words--the three colored women had been dressed as Turkish slaves, while Mrs. Phillipetti and her aides dressed as Beauties of the Harem.

To judge by Mrs. Phillipetti's costume, the Beauties of the Harem were expensive to clothe. She had more silk, gold lace, and tinsel strung upon her ample form than would set a theatrical costumer up in business, but the star feature of her costume was her turban. It was a gorgeous creation, and would have been a comfortable piece of headgear in midwinter, although slightly heating for a hot June day, but it came near being the talk of the Carnival, for in the center of the front, just above her forehead, Mrs. Phillipetti had pinned the celebrated brooch containing the Dragon's Eye--the priceless ruby given to old General Phillipetti by the Dugosh of Zind after the old diplomat had saved the worthless life of the old reprobate by appealing to the Vice-Regent of Siberia in his behalf.

The Dragon's Eye was about the size of a lemon and weighed nearly as much as a pound of creamery b.u.t.ter, so it required considerable turban to make it ”apropos” and complete its ”ongsomble.” Pinned on her shelf-like chest, Mrs. Phillipetti wore a small mirror somewhat smaller than a tea saucer. By tipping the outer edge of the mirror upward and glancing down into it, Mrs. Phillipetti had a good view of the entire facade of her turban, reflected in the mirror, and she was thus able to keep an eye on the Dragon's Eye.

”Oh, Mr. Beech!” cried Mrs. Phillipetti, stopping him as he was bustling past her booth, ”_do_ you know where Mr. Gubb is?”

”Gubb? Gubb?” said Mr. Beech. ”Oh! that paper-hanger-detective fellow?

No, I don't know where he is. Why?”

”It's gone! The Dragon's Eye is gone!” moaned Mrs. Phillipetti.

Mr. Beech, although greatly concerned, tried to maintain his composure. Mrs. Phillipetti explained that she had removed her turban and placed it under a chair at the back of the booth. A little later she had noticed that the turban, with the priceless Dragon's Eye, was gone.

”Now, this--now--was not wholly unexpected,” Beech said. ”It's a--now--unfortunate thing, but it's the sort of thing that happens.