Speaker 1: The Nameless Man by Rodriguez Atto LINGI. Mister Barnes was
sitting in his private room, with nothing of special importance
to occupy his thoughts, when his office boy announced a visitor.
What name, asked mister Barnes, None was the reply. You mean,
said the detective, that the man did not give you
his name. He must have one, of course, show him
in a minute later, the stranger entered, and, bowing courteously,
began the conversation. At once mister Barnes, the famous detective,
I believe, said he. My name is Barnes, replied the detective.
May I have the pleasure of knowing yours? I sincerely hope,
So continued the stranger. The fact is I suppose I
have forgotten it, forgotten your name. Mister Barnes scent it
an interesting case, and became doubly attentive. Yes, said the visitor.
That is precisely my singular predicament. I seem to have
lost my identity. That is the object of my call.
I wish to discover who I am, as I evidently
am a full grown man. I can certainly claim that
I have a past history, But to me that past
is entirely a blank. I awoke this morning in this condition,
yet apparently in possession of all my faculties, so much
so that I at once saw the advisability of consulting
a first class detective, and upon inquiry I was directed
to you. Your case is interesting from my point of view,
I mean to you. Of course, it must seem unfortunate,
yet it is not unparalleled. There have been many such
cases recorded, And for your temporary relief, I may say
that sooner or later, complete restoration of memory usually occurs.
But now let us try to unravel your mystery as
soon as possible, that you may suffer as little inconvenience
as there need be. I would like to ask you
a few questions, as many as you like, and I
will do my best to answer. Do you think that
you are a New Yorker? I have not the least
idea whether I am or not. You say you were
advised to consult me by whom the clerk at the
Waldorf Hotel where I slept last night, Then of course
he gave you my address. Did you find it necessary
to ask him how to find my office? Well? No,
I did not. That seems strange, does it not? I
certainly had no difficulty in coming here. I suppose that
must be a significant fact. Mister Barnes. It tends to
show that you have been familiar with New York, but
we must still find out whether you live here or not.
How did you register at the hotel M J G.
Remington City. You are sure that Remington is not your name?
Quite sure? After breakfast this morning, I was passing through
the lobby when the clerk called me twice by that name. Finally,
one of the hall boys touched me on the shoulder
and explained that I was wanted at the desk. I
was very much confused to find myself called mister Remington,
a name which is certainly not my own. Before I
fully realized my position, I said to the clerk, why
do you call me Remington? And he replied, because you
registered under that name. I tried to pass it off,
but I am sure that the clerk looks upon me
as a suspicious character. What baggage have you with you
at the hotel? None? Not even a satchel. May there
not be something in your pockets that would help us letters?
For example? I am sorry to say that I have
made a search in that direction but found nothing. Luckily
I did have a pocket book, though much money in
it in the neighborhood of five hundred dollars. Mister Barnes
turned to his table and made a few notes on
a pad of paper. While he was so engaged, his
visitor took out a fine goal watch, and, after a
glance at the face, was about to return it to
his pocket, when mister Barnes wheeled around in his chair
and said, that is a handsome watch you have there
of a curious pattern too. I am rather interested in
all watches. The stranger seemed confused for an instant and
quickly put up his watch, saying there is no nothing
remarkable about it, merely an old family relic. I value
it more for that than anything else. But about my case,
mister Barnes, how long do you think it will take
to restore my identity to me? It is rather awkward
to go about under a false name, I should think so,
said the detective. I will do my best. No clue
to work upon, so that it is impossible to say
what my success will be. Still, I think forty eight
hours should suffice at least. In that time I ought
to make some discoveries for you. Suppose you call again
on the day after tomorrow at noon precisely? Will that
suit you very well? Indeed, if you can tell me
who I am at that time, I shall be more
than convinced that you are a great detective, as I
have been told. He arose and prepared to go, And
upon that instant mister Barnes touched a button under his
table with his foot, which caused a bell to ring
in a distant part of the building, no sound of
which penetrated the private office. Thus anyone could visit mister
Barnes in his den and might leave unsuspicious of the
fact that a spy would be awaiting him out in
the street, who would shadow him persistently day and night
until recall by his chief. After giving the signal, mister
Barnes held his strange visitor in conversation a few minutes
longer to allow his spy opportunity to get to his post.
How will you pass the time away, mister Remington said
he We may as well call you by that name
until I find your true one. Yes, I suppose so,
as to what I shall do during the next forty
eight hours, why I think I may as well devote
myself to seeing the sights. It is a remarkably pleasant
day for a stroll, and I think I will visit
your beautiful central park, a capital idea. By all means,
I would advise occupation of that kind. It would be
best not to do any business until your memory is
restored to you. Business why, of course, I can do
no business. No, if you were to order any goods,
for example, under the name of Remington later on, when
you resume your proper identity, you might be arrested as
an impostor by George. I had not thought of that.
My position is more serious than I had realized. I
thank you for the warning. Sight seeing will assuredly be
my safest plan for the next two days. I think
so call at the time agreed upon, and hope for
the best. If I should meet you before then, I
will send to your hotel saying good morning. Mister Barnes
turned to his desk again, and as the stranger looked
at him before stepping out of the room. The detective
seemed engrossed in some papers before him, yet scarcely had
the door closed upon the retreating form of his recent visitor.
When mister Barnes looked up with an air of expectancy.
A moment later, a very tiny bell in a drawer
of his desk rang, indicating that the man had left
the building, the signal having been sent to him by
one of his employees, whose business it was to watch
all departures and notify his chief. A few moments later,
mister Barnes himself emerged, clad in an entirely different suit
of clothing, and with such an alteration in the color
of his hair that more than a casual glance would
have been required to recognize him. When he reached the street,
the stranger was nowhere in sight. But mister Barnes went
to a doorway opposite, and there he found written in
blue pencil the word up, whereupon he walked rapidly uptown
as far as the next corner, where once more he
examined a door post, upon which he found the word right,
which indicated the way the men ahead of him had turned.
Beyond this, he could expect no signals for the spy shadowing.
The stranger did not know positively that his chief would
take part in the game. The two signals which he
had written on the doors were merely a part of
a routine and intended to aid mister Barnes should he follow,
but if he did so, he would be expected to
be in sight of the spy by the time the
second signal were reached, and so proved in this instance,
for as mister Barnes turned the corner to the right,
he easily discerned his man about two blocks ahead, and
presently was near enough to see Remington also. The pursuit
continued until mister Barnes was surprised to see him enter
the park, thus carrying out his intention as stated in
his interview with the Detective. Entering at the fifth Avenue gate,
he made his way towards the menagerie, and here a
curious incident occurred. The stranger had mingled with the crowd
in the monkey house and was enjoying the antics of
the mischievous little animals when mister Barnes, getting close behind him,
deftly removed a pocket handkerchief from the tail of his
coat and swiftly transferred it to his arm. On the
day following, shortly before noon, mister Barnes walked quickly into
the reading room of the Fifth Avenue Hotel. In one
corner there is a handsome mahogany cabinet containing three compartments,
each of which is entered through double having glass panels
in the upper half. About these panels are draped yellow
silk curtains, and in the center of each appears a
white porcelain numeral. These compartments are used as public telephone stations,
the applicant being shut in so as to be free
from the noise of the outer room. Mister Barnes spoke
to the girl in charge and then passed into the
compartment numbered V. Less than five minutes later, mister Leroy
Mitchell came into the reading room, his keen eyes peered
about him, scanning the countenances of those busy with the
papers or writing, and then he gave the telephone girl
a number and went into the compartment numbered one. About
ten minutes elapsed before mister Mitchell came out again, and
having paid the toll, he left the hotel. When mister
Barnes emerged, there was an expression of extreme satisfaction upon
his face. Without lingering, he also went out, but instead
of following mister Mitchell through the main lobby to Broadway,
he crossed the reading room and reached twenty third Street
through the side door. Thence he proceeded to the station
of the elevated railroad and went uptown. Twenty minutes later,
he was ringing the bell of mister Mitchell's residence. The butler,
who answered his summons, informed him that his master was
not at home. He usually comes in to luncheon. However,
does he not, asked the detective. Yes, sir, responded the boy.
Is missus Mitchell at home, no, sir, Miss Rose, Yes,
sir ah, then I'll wait take my card to her.
Mister Barnes passed into the luxurious drawing room and was
soon joined by Rose, mister Mitchell's adopted daughter. I'm sorry
Papa is not at home, mister Barnes, said the little lady.
But he will surely be into luncheon if you will wait, Yes,
thank you, I think I will. It is quite a
trip up, and being here, I may as well stop
awhile and see your father. Though the matter is not
of any great importance. Some interesting case, mister Barnes, If so,
do tell me about it. You know I am almost
as much interested in your cases as Papa is. Yes,
I know you are, and my vanity is flattered. But
I am sorry to say, I have nothing on hand
at present worth relating. My errand is a very simple one.
Your father was saying a few days ago that he
was thinking of buying a bicycle, and yesterday, by accident,
I came across a machine of an entirely new make,
which seems to me superior to anything yet produced. I
thought he might be interested to see it before deciding
what kind to buy. I'm afraid you are too late,
mister Barnes. Papa has bought a bicycle already. Indeed, what
style did he choose I really do not know, but
it is down in the lower hall if you care
to look at it. It's hardly worth while, miss Rose.
After all, I have no interest in the new model,
and if your father has found something that he likes,
I won't even mention the other to him. It might
only make him regret his bargain. Still, on second thought,
I will go down with you if you will take
me into the dining room and show me the head
of that moose which your father had been bragging about killing.
I believe it has come back from the taxidermis. Oh yes,
he is just a monster. Come on. They went down
to the dining room, and mister Barnes expressed great admiration
about the moose's head and praised mister Mitchell's skill as
a marksman, but he had taken a moment to scrutinize
the bicycle which stood in the hallway, while Rose was
opening the blinds in the dining room. Then they returned
to the drawing room, and after a little more conversation,
mister Barnes departed, saying that he could not wait any longer,
but he charged Rose to tell her father that he
particularly desired him to call at noon on the following day.
Promptly at the time, appointed Remington walked into the office
of mister Barnes and was announced the detective was in
his private room. Mister Leroy Mitchell had been admitted, but
a few moments before, ask mister Remington in, said mister
Barnes to his boy, And when that gentleman entered, before
he could show surprise to find a third party present,
the detective said, mister Mitchell, this is the gentleman whom
I wished you to meet. Permit me to introduce to
you mister Mortimer J. Goldie, better known to the Sporting
Fraternity as G. J. Mortimer, the champion short distance bicycle
rider who recently rode a mile in the phenomenal time
of one point five six on a quarter mile track.
As mister Barnes spoke, he gazed from one to the
other of his companions with a half quizzical and wholly
pleased expression on his face. Mister Mitchell appeared much interested,
but the newcomer was evidently greatly astonished. He looked blankly
at mister Barnes a moment, then dropped into a chair
with the query, how in the name of conscience did
you find that out? That much? Was not very difficult?
Replied the detective. I can tell you more. Indeed, I
can supply your whole past history, provided your memory has
been sufficiently restored for you to recognize my facts as true.
Mister Barnes looked at mister Mitchell and winked one eye
in a most suggestive manner, at which that gentleman burst
out into a hearty laughter, finally saying, we may as
well admit that we are beaten. Goldie. Mister Barnes has
been too much for us, but I want to know
how he has done it. Persisted mister Goldie, I have
no doubt that, mister Barnes will satisfy you. Indeed, I
am as curious as you are to know by what
means he has arrived at his quick solution of the
problem which we set him. I will enlighten you as
to detective methods with pleasure, said mister Barnes. Let me
begin with the visit made to me by this gentleman
two days ago. At the very outset, his statement aroused
my suspicion, although I did my best not to let
him think so. He announced to me that he had
lost his identity, and I promptly told him that his
case was not uncommon. I said that in order that
we might feel sure. I did not doubt his tale.
But truly his case, if he were telling the truth,
was absolutely unique. Men have lost recollection of their past,
and even have forgotten their names. But I have never
before heard of a man who had forgotten his name
and at the same time knew that he had done so.
A capital point, mister Barnes said, mister Mitchell, you were
certainly shrewd to suspect fraud so early. I cannot say
that I suspected fraud so soon, but the story was
so unlikely that I could not believe it immediately. I
therefore was what I might call analytically attentive during the
rest of the interview. The next point worth noting which
came out was that although he had forgotten himself, he
had not forgotten New York, for he admitted having come
to me without special guidance. I remember that, interrupted mister Goldie,
and I think I even said to you at the
time that it was significant. And I told you that
at least it showed that you had been familiar with
New York. This was better proven when you said that
you would spend the day in Central Park, and when
after leaving here you had no difficulty to find your way.
Thither do you mean to say that you had me followed?
I made sure that no one was after me. Well, yes,
you were followed, said mister Barnes with a smile. I
had a spy after you, and I followed you as
far as the part myself. But let me come to
the other points in your interview and my deductions. You
told me that you had registered as m J. G. Remington.
This helped me considerably, as you shall see presently. A
few minutes later you took out your watch, and in
that little mirror over my desk, which I use occasionally,
when I turned my back upon a visitor, I noted
that there was an inscription on the outside of the case.
I turned and asked you something about the watch, when
you hastily returned it to your pocket with the remark
that it was an old family relic. Now, can you
explain how you could have known that, supposing that you
had forgotten who you were? Neatly caught Goldie laughed, mister Mitchell,
you certainly made a mess of it there. It was
an asinine slip, said mister Goldie, laughing Offso now, then,
continued mister Barnes. You readily see that I had good
reason for believing that you had not forgotten your name.
On the contrary, I was positive that your name was
a part of the inscription on the watch. What then
could be your purpose in pretending otherwise? I did not
discover that for some time. However, I decided to go
ahead and find you out if I could. Next, I
noted two things. Your coat opened once so that I
saw a pin to your vest a bicycle badge which
I recognized as the emblem of the League of American wheelmen.
Oh oh, cried mister Mitchell. Shame on you, Goldie, for
a blunderer. I had entirely forgotten the badge, said mister Goldie.
I also observed the detective went on little indentations on
the sole of your shoe as you had your legs crossed,
which satisfied me that you were a writer even before
I observed the badge. Now, then we come to the
name and the significance thereof. Had you really lost your memory,
the choosing of a name Aim when you registered at
the hotel would have been a haphazard matter of no
importance to me. But as soon as I decided that
you were imposing upon me, I knew that your choice
of the name had been a deliberate act of the mind,
one from which deductions could be drawn. Ah, now we
come to the interesting part, said mister Mitchell. I love
to follow a detective when he uses his brains. The
name as registered, and I examined the registry myself to
make sure was odd. Three initials are unusual. A man
without memory and therefore not quite sound mentally, would hardly
have chosen so many. Then why had it been done
in this instance? What more natural than that these initials
represented the true name. In assuming an alias, it is
the most common method to transpose the real name in
some way. At least it was a working hypothesis. Then
the last name might be very significant. Remington. The Remingtons
make guns, sewing machines, typewriters, and byles. Now this man
was a bicycle rider. I was sure if he chose
his own initials as part of the alias. It was
possible that he selected Remington because it was familiar to him.
I even imagined that he might be an agent for
Remington Bicycles. And I had arrived at that point during
our interview when I advised him not to buy anything
until his identity was restored. But I was sure of
my quarry when I stole a handkerchief from him at
the park and found the initials M J G upon
the same marked Lennon on your person, exclaimed mister Mitchell.
Worse and worse, we'll never make a successful criminal of you, Goldie,
perhaps not. I shan't cry over it. I thought sure
of my success by this time, continued mister Barnes. Yet
at the very next step I was balked. I looked
over a list of l a W members, and could
not find a name to fit my initials, which shows,
as you will see presently, that, as I may say,
too many clues spoil the broth. Without the handkerchief, I
could have done better. Next, I secured a catalog of
the Remingtons, which gave a list of their authorized agents,
and again I failed. Returning to my office, I received
information from my spy sent by messenger, which promised to
open away for me. He had followed you about mister Goldie,
and I must say you played your part very well
so far as avoiding acquaintances is concerned. But at last
you went to a public telephone and called up some one.
My man saw the importance of discovering to whom you
had spoken, and bribed the telephone attendant to give him
the information. All that he learned, however, was that you
had spoken to the public station at the Fifth Avenue Hotel.
My spy thought that this was inconsequent, but it proved
to me at once that there was collusion, and that
your man must have been at the other station by
previous appointment, as that was at noon a few minutes
before the same hour on the following day that is
to say, yesterday, I went to the Fifth Avenue Hotel,
telephoned and secreted myself in the middle compartment, hoping to
hear what your partner might say to you. I failed
in this, as the boxes were too well made to
permit sound to pass from one to the other. But
imagine my gratification to see mister Mitchell himself go into
the box. And why, asked mister Mitchell. Well, as soon
as I saw you, I comprehended the whole scheme. It
was you who had concocted the little diversion to test
my ability. Thus, at last I understood the reason for
the pretended loss of identity. With the knowledge that you
were in it, I was more than ever determined to
get at the facts. Knowing that you were out, I
hastened to your house, hoping for a chat with little
miss Rose, as the most likely member of your family
to get information from. Oh Fie, mister Barnes, said, mister Mitchell,
to play upon the innocence of childhood. I am ashamed
of you. All's fair et city. Well I succeeded. I
found mister Goldie's bicycle in your hallway, and, as I
suspected twas a Remington. I took the number and hurried
down to the agency, where I readily discovered that wheel
number five thousand and eighty six is written by G. J. Mortimer,
one of their regular racing team. I also learned that
Mortimer's private name is Mortimer J. Goldie. I was much
pleased at this because it showed how good my reasoning
had been about the alias. For you observed that the
racing name is merely a transposition of the family name.
The watch, of course, is a prize, and the inscription
would have proved that you were imposing upon me, mister Goldie,
had you permitted me to see it. Of course, that
is why I put it back in my pocket, I said.
Just now, said mister Barnes, that without the stolen handkerchief,
I would have done better having it. When I looked
over the L A. W List, I went through the
g's only without it, I should have looked through the g's,
J's and m's, not knowing how the letters may have
been transposed. In that case, I should have found G. J. Mortimer,
and the initials would have proved that I was on
the right track. You have done, mister Barnes, said, mister Mitchell,
I ask Goldy to play the part of a nameless
man for a few days to have some fun with you.
But you have had fun with us. It seems, though,
I am conceited enough to say that had it been
possible for me to play the principal part, you would
not have pierced my identity so soon. Oh I don't know,
said mister Barnes. We are both of us a little egotistical.
I fear undoubtedly Still, if I ever set another trap
for you, I will assign myself the chief role. Nothing
would please me better, said mister Barnes. But gentlemen, as
you have lost in this little game, it seems to
me that some one owes me a dinner. At least
I'll stand the expense with pleasures, said mister Mitchell, not
at all interrupted mister Goldie. It was through my blundering
that we lost, and I'll pay the piper. Settle it
between you, cried mister Barnes. But let us walk on.
I am getting hungry. Whereupon they adjourned to Delmonico's and
of the Nameless Man