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The Sleuths

Short Stories


A Bird of Bagdad

A Blackjack Bargainer

A Call Loan

A Chaparral Christmas Gift

A Chaparral Prince

A Comedy in Rubber

A Cosmopolite in a Cafe

A Departmental Case

A Dinner at--------*

A Double-Dyed Deceiver

A Fog in Santone

A Harlem Tragedy

A Lickpenny Lover

A Little Local Colour

A Little Talk about Mobs

A Madison Square Arabian Night

A Matter of Mean Elevation

A Midsummer Knight's Dream

A Midsummer Masquerade

A Municipal Report

A Newspaper Story

A Night in New Arabia

A Philistine in Bohemia

A Poor Rule

A Ramble in Aphasia

A Retrieved Reformation

A Ruler of Men

A Sacrifice Hit

A Service of Love

A Snapshot at the President

A Strange Story

A Technical Error

A Tempered Wind

According to Their Lights

After Twenty Years

An Adjustment of Nature

An Afternoon Miracle

An Apology

An Unfinished Christmas Story

An Unfinished Story

Aristocracy Versus Hash

Art and the Bronco

At Arms With Morpheus

Babes in the Jungle


Between Rounds

Bexar Scrip No. 2692

Blind Man's Holiday

Brickdust Row

Buried Treasure

By Courier

Calloway's Code


Cherchez La Femme

Christmas by Injunction

Compliments of the Season

Confessions of a Humorist

Conscience in Art

Cupid a La Carte

Cupid's Exile Number Two


Dougherty's Eye-Opener

Elsie in New York

Extradited from Bohemia

Fickle Fortune or How Gladys Hustled

Friends in San Rosario

From Each According to His Ability

From the Cabby's Seat

Georgia's Ruling


He Also Serves

Hearts and Crosses

Hearts and Hands

Helping the Other Fellow

Holding Up a Train

Hostages to Momus

Hygeia at the Solito

Innocents of Broadway

Jeff Peters as a Personal Magnet

Jimmy Hayes and Muriel

Law and Order

Let Me Feel Your Pulse

Little Speck in Garnered Fruit

Lord Oakhurst's Curse

Lost on Dress Parade

Madame Bo-Peep, of the Ranches

Makes the Whole World Kin

Mammon and the Archer

Man About Town

Masters of Arts

Memoirs of a Yellow Dog

Modern Rural Sports

Money Maze

Nemesis and the Candy Man

New York by Camp Fire Light

Next to Reading Matter

No Story

October and June

On Behalf of the Management

One Dollar's Worth

One Thousand Dollars

Out of Nazareth

Past One at Rooney's


Proof of the Pudding

Psyche and the Pskyscraper

Queries and Answers

Roads of Destiny

Roses, Ruses and Romance

Rouge et Noir

Round the Circle

Rus in Urbe

Schools and Schools

Seats of the Haughty

Shearing the Wolf



Sisters of the Golden Circle


Sociology in Serge and Straw

Sound and Fury

Springtime a La Carte

Squaring the Circle

Strictly Business

Strictly Business

Suite Homes and Their Romance

Telemachus, Friend

The Admiral

The Adventures of Shamrock Jolnes

The Assessor of Success

The Atavism of John Tom Little Bear

The Badge of Policeman O'Roon

The Brief Debut of Tildy

The Buyer From Cactus City

The Caballero's Way

The Cactus

The Caliph and the Cad

The Caliph, Cupid and the Clock

The Call of the Tame

The Chair of Philanthromathematics

The Champion of the Weather

The Church with an Overshot-Wheel

The City of Dreadful Night

The Clarion Call

The Coming-Out of Maggie

The Complete Life of John Hopkins

The Cop and the Anthem

The Count and the Wedding Guest

The Country of Elusion

The Day Resurgent

The Day We Celebrate

The Defeat of the City

The Detective Detector

The Diamond of Kali

The Discounters of Money

The Dog and the Playlet

The Door of Unrest

The Dream

The Duel

The Duplicity of Hargraves

The Easter of the Soul

The Emancipation of Billy

The Enchanted Kiss

The Enchanted Profile

The Ethics of Pig

The Exact Science of Matrimony

The Ferry of Unfulfilment

The Fifth Wheel

The Flag Paramount

The Fool-Killer

The Foreign Policy of Company 99

The Fourth in Salvador

The Friendly Call

The Furnished Room

The Gift of the Magi

The Girl and the Graft

The Girl and the Habit

The Gold That Glittered

The Greater Coney

The Green Door

The Guardian of the Accolade

The Guilty Party - An East Side Tragedy

The Halberdier of the Little Rheinschloss

The Hand that Riles the World

The Handbook of Hymen

The Harbinger

The Head-Hunter

The Hiding of Black Bill

The Higher Abdication

The Higher Pragmatism

The Hypotheses of Failure

The Indian Summer of Dry Valley Johnson

The Lady Higher Up

The Last Leaf

The Last of the Troubadours

The Lonesome Road

The Lost Blend

The Lotus And The Bottle

The Love-Philtre of Ikey Schoenstein

The Making of a New Yorker

The Man Higher Up

The Marionettes

The Marquis and Miss Sally

The Marry Month of May

The Memento

The Missing Chord

The Moment of Victory

The Octopus Marooned

The Passing of Black Eagle

The Pendulum

The Phonograph and the Graft

The Pimienta Pancakes

The Plutonian Fire

The Poet and the Peasant

The Pride of the Cities

The Princess and the Puma

The Prisoner of Zembla

The Proem

The Purple Dress

The Ransom of Mack

The Ransom of Red Chief

The Rathskeller and the Rose

The Red Roses of Tonia

The Reformation of Calliope

The Remnants of the Code

The Renaissance at Charleroi

The Roads We Take

The Robe of Peace

The Romance of a Busy Broker

The Rose of Dixie

The Rubaiyat of a Scotch Highball

The Rubber Plant's Story

The Shamrock and the Palm

The Shocks of Doom

The Skylight Room

The Sleuths

The Snow Man

The Social Triangle

The Song and the Sergeant

The Sparrows in Madison Square

The Sphinx Apple

The Tale of a Tainted Tenner

The Theory and the Hound

The Thing's the Play

The Third Ingredient

The Trimmed Lamp

The Unknown Quantity

The Unprofitable Servant

The Venturers

The Vitagraphoscope

The Voice of the City

The Whirligig of Life

The World and the Door

Thimble, Thimble


To Him Who Waits

Tobin's Palm

Tommy's Burglar

Tracked to Doom

Transformation of Martin Burney

Transients in Arcadia

Two Recalls

Two Renegades

Two Thanksgiving Day Gentlemen

Ulysses and the Dogman

Vanity and Some Sables

What You Want

While the Auto Waits

Whistling Dick's Christmas Stocking

Witches' Loaves

In The Big City a man will disappear with the suddenness and completeness
of the flame of a candle that is blown out. All the agencies of
inquisition -- the hounds of the trail, the sleuths of the city's
labyrinths, the closet detectives of theory and induction -- will be
invoked to the search. Most often the man's face will be seen no more.
Sometimes he will reappear in Sheboygan or in the wilds of Terre Haute,
calling himself one of the synonyms of "Smith," and without memory of
events up to a certain time, including his grocer's bill. Sometimes it
will be found, after dragging the rivers, and polling the restaurants to
see if he may be waiting for a well-done sirloin, that he has moved next

This snuffing out of a human being like the erasure of a chalk man from a
blackboard is one of the most impressive themes in dramaturgy.

The case of Mary Snyder, in point, should not be without interest.

A man of middle age, of the name of Meeks, came from the West to New York
to find his sister, Mrs. Mary Snyder, a widow, aged fifty-two, who had
been living for a year in a tenement house in a crowded neighbourhood.

At her address he was told that Mary Snyder had moved away longer than a
month before. No one could tell him her new address.

On coming out Mr. Meeks addressed a policeman who was standing on the
corner, and explained his dilemma.

"My sister is very poor," he said, "and I am anxious to find her. I have
recently made quite a lot of money in a lead mine, and I want her to share
my prosperity. There is no use in advertising her, because she cannot

The policeman pulled his moustache and looked so thoughtful and mighty
that Meeks could almost feel the joyful tears of his sister Mary dropping
upon his bright blue tie.

"You go down in the Canal Street neighbourhood," said the policeman, "and
get a job drivin' the biggest dray you can find. There's old women always
gettin' knocked over by drays down there. You might see 'er among 'em.
If you don't want to do that you better go 'round to headquarters and get
'em to put a fly cop onto the dame."

At police headquarters, Meeks received ready assistance. A general alarm
was sent out, and copies of a photograph of Mary Snyder that her brother
had were distributed among the stations. In Mulberry Street the chief
assigned Detective Mullins to the case.

The detective took Meeks aside and said:

"This is not a very difficult case to unravel. Shave off your whiskers,
fill your pockets with good cigars, and meet me in the cafe of the Waldorf
at three o'clock this afternoon."

Meeks obeyed. He found Mullins there. They had a bottle of wine, while
the detective asked questions concerning the missing woman.

"Now," said Mullins, "New York is a big city, but we've got the detective
business systematized. There are two ways we can go about finding your
sister. We will try one of 'em first. You say she's fifty-two?"

"A little past," said Meeks.

The detective conducted the Westerner to a branch advertising office of
one of the largest dailies. There he wrote the following "ad" and
submitted it to Meeks:

"Wanted, at once -- one hundred attractive chorus girls for a new musical
comedy. Apply all day at No.- Broadway."

Meeks was indignant.

"My sister," said he, "is a poor, hard-working, elderly woman. I do not
see what aid an advertisement of this kind would be toward finding her."

"All right," said the detective. "I guess you don't know New York. But
if you've got a grouch against this scheme we'll try the other one. It's
a sure thing. But it'll cost you more."

"Never mind the expense," said Meeks; "we'll try it."

The sleuth led him back to the Waldorf. "Engage a couple of bedrooms and
a parlour," he advised, "and let's go up."

This was done, and the two were shown to a superb suite on the fourth
floor. Meeks looked puzzled. The detective sank into a velvet armchair,
and pulled out his cigar case.

"I forgot to suggest, old man," he said, "that you should have taken the
rooms by the month. They wouldn't have stuck you so much for em.

"By the month!" exclaimed Meeks. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, it'll take time to work the game this way. I told you it would cost
you more. We'll have to wait till spring. There'll be a new city
directory out then. Very likely your sister's name and address will be in

Meeks rid himself of the city detective at once. On the next day some one
advised him to consult Shamrock Jolnes, New York's famous private
detective, who demanded fabulous fees, but performed miracles in the way
of solving mysteries and crimes.

After waiting for two hours in the anteroom of the great detective's
apartment, Meeks was shown into his presence. Jolnes sat in a purple
dressing-gown at an inlaid ivory chess table, with a magazine before him,
trying to solve the mystery of "They." The famous sleuth's thin,
intellectual face, piercing eyes, and rate per word are too well known to
need description.

Meeks set forth his errand. "My fee, if successful, will be $500," said
Shamrock Jolnes.

Meeks bowed his agreement to the price.

"I will undertake your case, Mr. Meeks," said Jolnes, finally. "The
disappearance of people in this city has always been an interesting
problem to me. I remember a case that I brought to a successful outcome a
year ago. A family bearing the name of Clark disappeared suddenly from a
small flat in which they were living. I watched the flat building for two
months for a clue. One day it struck me that a certain milkman and a
grocer's boy always walked backward when they carried their wares
upstairs. Following out by induction the idea that this observation gave
me, I at once located the missing family. They had moved into the flat
across the hall and changed their name to Kralc."

Shamrock Jolnes and his client went to the tenement house where Mary
Snyder had lived, and the detective demanded to be shown the room in which
she had lived. It had been occupied by no tenant since her disappearance.

The room was small, dingy, and poorly furnished. Meeks seated himself
dejectedly on a broken chair, while the great detective searched the walls
and floor and the few sticks of old, rickety furniture for a clue.

At the end of half an hour Jolnes had collected a few seemingly
unintelligible articles -- a cheap black hat pin, a piece torn off a
theatre programme, and the end of a small torn card on which was the word
"left" and the characters "C 12."

Shamrock Jolnes leaned against the mantel for ten minutes, with his head
resting upon his hand, and an absorbed look upon his intellectual face.
At the end of that time he exclaimed, with animation:

"Come, Mr. Meeks; the problem is solved. I can take you directly to the
house where your sister is living. And you may have no fears concerning
her welfare, for she is amply provided with funds -- for the present at

Meeks felt joy and wonder in equal proportions.

"How did you manage it?" he asked, with admiration in his tones.

Perhaps Jolnes's only weakness was a professional pride in his wonderful
achievements in induction. He was ever ready to astound and charm his
listeners by describing his methods.

"By elimination," said Jolnes, spreading his clues upon a little table, "I
got rid of certain parts of the city to which Mrs. Snyder might have
removed. You see this hatpin? That eliminates Brooklyn. No woman
attempts to board a car at the Brooklyn Bridge without being sure that she
carries a hatpin with which to fight her way into a seat. And now I will
demonstrate to you that she could not have gone to Harlem. Behind this
door are two hooks in the wall. Upon one of these Mrs. Snyder has hung
her bonnet, and upon the other her shawl. You will observe that the
bottom of the hanging shawl has gradually made a soiled streak against the
plastered wall. The mark is clean-cut, proving that there is no fringe on
the shawl. Now, was there ever a case where a middle-aged woman, wearing
a shawl, boarded a Harlem train without there being a fringe on the shawl
to catch in the gate and delay the passengers behind her? So we eliminate

"Therefore I conclude that Mrs. Snyder has not moved very far away. On
this torn piece of card you see the word "Left," the letter "C," and the
number "12." Now, I happen to know that No. 12 Avenue C is a first-class
boarding house, far beyond your sister's means -- as we suppose. But then
I find this piece of a theatre programme, crumpled into an odd shape.
What meaning does it convey. None to you, very likely, Mr. Meeks; but it
is eloquent to one whose habits and training take cognizance of the small
est things.

"You have told me that your sister was a scrub woman. She scrubbed the
floors of offices and hallways. Let us assume that she procured such work
to perform in a theatre. Where is valuable jewellery lost the oftenest,
Mr. Meeks? In the theatres, of course. Look at that piece of programme,
Mr. Meeks. Observe the round impression in it. It has been wrapped
around a ring -- perhaps a ring of great value. Mrs. Snyder found the
ring while at work in the theatre. She hastily tore off a piece of a
programme, wrapped the ring carefully, and thrust it into her bosom. The
next day she disposed of it, and, with her increased means, looked about
her for a more comfortable place in which to live. When I reach thus far
in the chain I see nothing impossible about No. 12 Avenue C. It is there
we will find your sister, Mr. Meeks."

Shamrock Jolnes concluded his convincing speech with the smile of a
successful artist. Meeks's admiration was too great for words. Together
they went to No. 12 Avenue C. It was an old-fashioned brownstone house
in a prosperous and respectable neighbourhood.

They rang the bell, and on inquiring were told that no Mrs. Snyder was
known there, and that not within six months had a new occupant come to the

When they reached the sidewalk again, Meeks examined the clues which he
had brought away from his sister's old room.

"I am no detective," he remarked to Jolnes as he raised the piece of
theatre programme to his nose, "but it seems to me that instead of a ring
having been wrapped in this paper it was one of those round peppermint
drops. And this piece with the address on it looks to me like the end of
a seat coupon -- No. 12, row C, left aisle."

Shamrock Jolnes had a far-away look in his eyes.

"I think you would do well to consult Juggins," said he.

"Who is Juggins?" asked Meeks.

"He is the leader," said Jolnes, "of a new modern school of detectives.
Their methods are different from ours, but it is said that Juggins has
solved some extremely puzzling cases. I will take you to him."

They found the greater Juggins in his office. He was a small man with
light hair, deeply absorbed in reading one of the bourgeois works of
Nathaniel Hawthorne.

The two great detectives of different schools shook hands with ceremony,
and Meeks was introduced.

"State the facts," said Juggins, going on with his reading.

When Meeks ceased, the greater one closed his book and said:

"Do I understand that your sister is fifty-two years of age, with a large
mole on the side of her nose, and that she is a very poor widow, making a
scanty living by scrubbing, and with a very homely face and figure?"

"That describes her exactly," admitted Meeks. Juggins rose and put on his

"In fifteen minutes," he said, "I will return, bringing you her present

Shamrock Jolnes turned pale, but forced a smile.

Within the specified time Juggins returned and consulted a little slip of
paper held in his hand.

"Your sister, Mary Snyder," he announced calmly, "will be found at No.
162 Chilton street. She is living in the back hall bedroom, five flights
up. The house is only four blocks from here," he continued, addressing
Meeks. "Suppose you go and verify the statement and then return here.
Mr. Jolnes will await you, I dare say."

Meeks hurried away. In twenty minutes he was back again, with a beaming

"She is there and well!" he cried. "Name your fee!"

"Two dollars," said Juggins.

When Meeks had settled his bill and departed, Shamrock Jolnes stood with
his hat in his hand before Juggins.

"If it would not be asking too much," he stammered -- "if you would favour
me so far -- would you object to --"

"Certainly not," said Juggins pleasantly. "I will tell you how I did it.
You remember the description of Mrs. Snyder? Did you ever know a woman
like that who wasn't paying weekly instalments on an enlarged crayon
portrait of herself? The biggest factory of that kind in the country is
just around the corner. I went there and got her address off the books.
That's all."

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