Speaker 1: The Unburglars by Ellis Parker Butler. Although Detective Gubb's experience
with the Oubliette elevator did not lead to the detection
of the dynamiters, for whom a reward of five thousand
dollars was offered, it resulted in the payment to him
of one half of three fines of five hundred dollars
for each of the three stores of whiskey he had unearthed.
With this money amounting to seven hundred and fifty dollars,
mister Gubb went to the home of Jonas Medderbrook and
paid that gentleman the entire amount that their payment, mister
Gubb said, deducted from what I owe on to them
shares of perfectly worthless gold mine stock. The name of
the mine, if you please, is utterly hopeless and not
perfectly worthless, said mister Meadowbrook. Severely. Just so, said mister
Gubb apologetically. You must excuse me, mister Meaderbrook. I ain't
no expert onto gold mines names, and off hand them
two names seem about the same to me. But my
remark was to be that the indebtedness of the liability
I now owe you is only thirteen thousand, seven hundred
and fifty dollars. And the sooner you get it paid up,
the better it will suit me, said mister Meadowbrook. Yes, sir,
said mister Gubb, and hesitated. Then, assuming an air of
little concern, he asked, it ain't likely to suppose we've
had any word from miss Cyrilla, is it, mister Meadowbrook.
For answer, mister Meadowbrook went to his desk and brought
mister Gubb a telegram. It was from Cyrilla. It said,
eating no potatoes, drinking no water, have lost eight pounds
kind love to mister Gubb. She's wore herself down to
nine hundred and ninety two pounds. According to that, said
mister Gubb, she has only got to wear off two
hundred and ninety two pounds more before mister Dorkan will
discharge her away from the side show. And at the
rate she's wearing herself away, said mister Meadobrook, that will
be in about ten years. What interests me more is
that the telegram came collect and cost me forty cents.
If you want to do the square thing, mister Gubb,
you'll pay me twenty cents for your share of that telegram.
Mister Gubb immediately gave mister Meadowbrook twenty cents, and mister
Meadobrook kindly allowed him to keep the telegram. Mister Gubb
placed it in the pocket nearest his heart and proceeded
to a house on Tenth Street, where he had a
job of paper hanging. At about this same time, Smith Whittaker,
the Riverbank Marshal or chief of police as he would
have been called in a larger city, knocked the ashes
from his pipe against the edge of his much whittled
desk in the dingy Marshall's room on the ground floor
of the City Hall, and grinned at mister Griscom, one
of Riverbank's citizens. Well, I don't know, he said, with
a grin. I don't know, but what I'd be glad
to be unburgled like that. I guess it was just
somebody playing a joke on you. If it was, said
mister Griscomb, I am ready to do a little joking myself.
I'm just enough of a joker to want to see
whoever it was in jail. My house is my house,
it is my castle, as the saying is, and I
don't want strangers wandering in and out of it, whether
they come to take away my property or leave property
that is not mine? Is there or is there not
a law against such things as happened at my house.
Oh there's a law, right, said Marshall Whittaker. It's burglary.
Whether the burglar breaks into your house or breaks out
of it. How do you know he broke out? Well,
my wife and I went to the Riverbank theater last night,
said mister Griscom. And when I got home and went
to put the key in the keyhole, there was another
key in it. Here are the two keys. Marshal Whittaker
took the two keys and examined them. One was an
old door key, much worn, and the other a new key.
Evidently the work of an amateur key maker, all right,
said Marshal Whittaker. When he had examined the keys. This
new one was made out of an old spoon. Go ahead,
We never had a key like that in the house,
said mister Griscomb. But when we reached home last night,
this nickel silver key was sticking in the lock of
the front door on the outside, and the door was
unlocked and standing ajar, just as if some one had
gone in at the front door and left it unlocked,
said mister Whittaker. Exactly, said mister Griscomb. So the first
thing we thought was Burglar's. And the first place my
wife looked was the sideboard in the dining room. And there, yes,
said mister Whittaker. There on the sideboard were a dozen
solid silver spoons you had never seen before, and marked
with my wife's initials. Understand, said mister Griscom. And the
cellar window, the one on the east side of the house,
had been broken out of. Why not broken into, asked
the Marshal. Well, I'm not quite a fool, said mister Griscom,
with some heat. I know because of the marks his
jimmy made on the sill. Some one has been playing
a joke on you, said mister Whittaker. You wait and
you'll see you won't be offended if I ask you
a question. My wife knows no more about it than
I do, said mister Griscom hotly. Now, Now, said mister Whittaker, soothingly.
I didn't mean that. What are your own spoons solid
or plaited, plated, said mister Griscom. Well, said mister Whittaker,
there's where to look for the joke. Try to think,
who would consider it a joke to send you solid
silver spoons? Billy gets exclaimed mister Griscom, mentioning theer. That's
the man I had in mind, said mister Whittaker. Now
I guess you can handle this alone, mister Griscom. I
guess I can, agreed mister Griscomb, and he went out.
The Marshal chuckled, unburgled. He said to himself, that's a
new one, for sure. That's the sort of burglary to
set Filo gubb the undetective on. He was still grinning
as he went out, but he tried to hide the grin.
When he met Billy Getz on the main street. Billy
uttered a hasty can't stop now, Whittaker, but the head
of the Riverbank Police grasped his arm. What's your rush.
I've got some fun for you, said Whittaker, some other time,
said Billy. I just borrowed this from Doc Mortimer and
promised to take it back quick. What is it, asked
the Marshal, gazing at the curious affair Billy had in
his hands. It looked very much like a coffee pot
and on the lid was a wheel like a small
tin wind mill. Just below the lid, and above the
spout was a hole as large as a dime lung tester,
said Billy, trying to pull away. Let me go, will you, Whittaker,
I'm in a hurry. Just borrowed it to settle a
bet with Sam Simmons. I show two pounds more lung
pressure than he does twenty six pounds, you, scoffed Whittaker.
I bet I can show twenty eight if you can
show twenty six. Oh well, I suppose I can't get
away until Baby tries the new toy. But hurry it up,
will you. The Marshal put his lips to the spout
and blew instantly from the hole under the lid. A
great cloud of flowers shot out, covering his face and
head and deluging his garments. From up and down the
street came shouts of joy, and the Marshal, brushing at
his face, grinned one on me, Billy, he said, good naturedly,
patting the flour out of his hair. And just when
I was coming to put you onto some fun too,
what do you know about the griscom unburglary? Not a thing,
Billy said. Tell me, I didn't expect you would know
anything about it, said the Marshal with a wink. But
how about putting Correspondent School Detective Gub onto the job, fine,
said Billy. Tell me what the unburgled Griscom thing is
and I'll do the rest. Billy found Filo Gubb at
work in the house on Tenth Street, hanging paper on
the second floor, and the lank detective looked at Billy
solemnly as the story of the Griscom affair was explained
to him. When I started in taking lessons from the
Rising Sun Detecative Agency's Correspondent School of Detecting, said mister
Gubb solemnly. I aimed to do a strictly retail business
in detecting and let the wholesale alone. Seeing that you
learned by mail, said Billy Getz, I should think you'd
be better fitted to do a mail order business them
terms of retail and wholesale is my own, said mister Gubb.
You don't believe anybody would unburgle a house, I guess,
said Billy, Yes, I do, Filo Gubb said, a fellow
can tie a knot, or he can untie it can't
he he can hitch a horse, or he can unhitch it.
And if a man can burgle, he can unburgle. A
mercenary burglar would naturally burgle things out of a house
after he had burgled himself in. But a generous hearted
burglar would just as naturally unburgle things into a house
and then unburgle himself out. That stands to reason. Of
course it does, said Billy Getz. And I knew you
would see it that way. I see things reasonable, said
Filo Gub. But I guess I won't take up the case.
Unburglar ain't no common crime. It ain't mentioned in the
twelve lessons I got from the Rising Sun Correspondence School.
I wouldn't hardly know how to go about catching an unburglar.
Just do the opposite from what it says to do
to catch a burglar, said Billy gets Common sense would
tell you that, wouldn't it. But listen, mister Gubb, I'd
let Whitaker catch his own burglars. The reason I ask
you to take this case is because I know you
have a good heart. It's good, but it's hard, said
Filo Gubb. A detecative has to have a hard heart.
All right, here is this man unburgling houses. For all
we know, he is honest and upright, said Billy gets.
He continues unburgling houses. The habit grows. Each house he
unburgles tempts him to unburgle too. Each set of spoons
he leaves in a house tempts him to leave two
sets in the next house, or four sets, or a
solid silver punch bowl. In a short time, he wipes
out his little fortune. He borrows, he begs at last,
he steals in order to unburgle. One house he burgles another.
He leads a jewel life, a sort of Jeckyll hide life.
But what if I caught him, said mister Gubb. Oh
you won't catch I mean we will leave that to you.
Frighten him out of the unburgling habit. I'll tell Marshall Whittaker,
you will get on the trail, Yes, said Filo Gub.
I feel sorry for the feller. Maybe he's letting his
wife and children suffer for food whilst he unburgles away
his substance. Then, said Billy Gadz, taking up his lung. Tester.
Suppose you stop in at the Marshal's office tonight at
eight thirty, Whittaker will tell you all about it. Filo
Gubb waited until Billy was well out of the house,
and then he said he'd done it. And I know
he'd done it, and he'd done it to make a
fool out of me. But I guess I owe Billy
gets a scare, and if I can prove that unburglary
onto him, he'll get the scare, all right, Detective Gub,
when it was time to go to the Marshal's office,
pinned his law nickel plated star on his vest, put
three false beards in his pocket, and went. The Marshal
received him cordially. Billy Getz was there. You understand, said Whittaker.
I have nothing to do with putting you on this case,
but I want to ask you to report to me
every evening. I could write out a docket, said Filo Gub.
That's what them French detecatives did. Always, good idea, said Whittaker.
Write out a docket and bring it in every night. Now,
I'll go over this Griscom case so you'll understand how
to go at it. Here, for instance, is the house,
the clock on the Marshal's desk, marked ten. Before they
were aware, Billy had arisen from his chair for he
had a poker game waiting for him at the Kidder's Club.
When the telephone bell rang, the Marshal drew the phone
toward him. Yes, he said into the telephone. Yes, this
is Marshall Whittaker. Mister Millbrook, Yes, I know seven sixty
five Locust Avenue broken into what oh? Broken out of
while you were out at dinner? Yes, opened the front
door with a key. Yes, what kind of key, mister Millbrook?
Thin nickel silver key? Nothing taken? What's that left? A
dozen solid silver spoons engraved with your wife's initials, I see,
and broke out through a cellar window. Yes, I understand. No,
it doesn't seem possible, but such things have happened. I'll send.
He looked around, but Filo Gubb, who had heard the
name and address, was already gone. I'll attend to it
at once, he concluded, and hung up the receiver. He
turned to Billy Getz. Billy, he said, severely, is this
another of your jokes? Whittaker said, Billy, I'd give you
my word, I had nothing to do with this. Well,
i'll believe you, said, Whittaker rather reluctantly. I thought it
was you. Who do you suppose is trying to take
the honor of town cut up from you? I can't imagine,
said Billy. Are you going to leave the thing in
Gubb's hands? That mail order? Detective? Not much, it's getting serious.
I'll send Purcell up to look the ground over. A
man can't make nickel silver keys and break out of
houses and leave engraved spoons and forks around without leaving
plenty of traces. We'll have the man tomorrow and give
him a good scare. Detective Gubb in the meanwhile, had
gone directly to mister Milbrook's unburgled house at seven sixty
five Locust Avenue. Mister Milbrook, a short, stout man with
a husky voice that gurgled when he was excited, opened
the door. I'm Detecative Gubb of the Rising Sun Detecative
Agency's Correspondence School of det Ticketing. Come to see about
your unburglary, said Philo Gubb, opening his coat to show
his badge. This is a most peculiar case. I've never
heard anything like it in my life, gurgled mister Milbrook.
Didn't take a thing left a dozen spoons came in
at the front door and broke out through the cellar window.
How long have you been married, asked mister Gubb, seating
himself on the edge of a chair and drawing out
a note book and pencil. Married. Married? What's that got
to do with it? Asked mister Milbrook. Twenty years next June.
If you want to know, that makes it a difficult case,
said Philo Gubb. If you was a bride and a groom,
it would be easier. But I guess maybe you can
tell me the names of some of the folks you've
had to dinner dinner, gurgled mister Milbrook. Dinner when since
you were married, said mister Gubb. My dear man, exclaimed,
mister Milbrook, We've had thousands to dinner, dining out and
giving dinners as our favorite amusement. I can't see what
you mean. I can't understand you. Well, you got plated
spoons and forks, ain't you, asked Filo Gubb. What if
we have? Gurgled mister Milbrook. That's our affair, ain't it.
It's my affair too, said Detective Gubb. Mister Griskom's house
was unburgled last night, and he had plated spoons. The
unburglar left solid ones on him like he did on you. Now,
I reason inducatively, like Sherlock Holmes. You both got plated spoons,
and unburglar leaves you solid ones. So he must have
known you had plated ones and needed solid ones. So
it must be someone who has had dinner with you,
My dear man, gurgled mister Milbrook. We never have had
a plated spoon in this house. Who sent you here? Anyway? Nobody,
said Philo Gub. I come of myself, Well you can
go of yourself, gurgled mister Milbrook angrily. There's the door.
Get out. On his way out, mister Gubb met Patrolman
Purcell coming in. Detective Gub outside the house examined the
cellar window as well as he could. There was not
a mark to be seen from the outside, but a
pansy bed bore the marks of the unburglar's exit. To
get out of the cellar, the unburglar had to wiggle
himself out of the small window and had crushed the
pansy's flat. Detective Gub felt carefully among the crushed pansies,
and his hand found something hard and round. It was
the drumstick bone of a chicken's leg. Detective Gub threw
it away. Even an unburglar would not have chosen a
chicken's leg bone as a weapon. Evidently Billy Gatz had
not left any clue in the pansy bed. Philo Gub
had no doubt that Billy was putting up a joke
on him. The detective decided that his best method would
be to shadow Billy Gattz from sundown each day until
he caught him unburgling another house or found something to
connect him with the unburglaries. So he went home. It
was eleven when he began to undress. It was then
he first realized that the knees of his light trousers
were damp from kneeling in the pansy bed, and he
looked at them ruefully. The knees were stained like Joseph's
coat of many colors, and they were his best trousers.
He hung them carefully over the back of his chair
and went to bed. The next morning, he rolled the
trousers into a bundle and took them with him on
his way to his paper hanging job on Main Street.
He stopped at Frank the tailer's pants cleaned and pressed
thirty five cents. He unrolled the trousers and laid them
across the counter. Can you remove those stains, he asked? Ah,
should I cood, said Frank, I make me no troubles
by DoD. Mister Kupe shoot this morning. Already I did it?
Their same ding? You fall over der Vire too, Yes,
certainly I expect it was the same wire into a
flower bed chess, said Frank, like mister Dervescott, Yes, cooting
across their corner. Yes, didn't see der vir that's so,
said Detective Gub. You don't mean old mister Westcoat to you. Sure, yes,
said Frank. He falls by der flower bed and un
stands his knees. Already shoot like that that I have
met these pants ready by you, dese evenings. You vontempressed
to press them and clean them and make them nice,
said Filo Gub, and went out Old John Westcoat and
pansy stains on his trouser knees. Was it? The thing
seemed impossible, but so did Unburglary that matter. Old John
Westcote was one of the richest men in Riverbank. He
was a retired merchant, and as mean as sin. He
was the last man in Riverbank. Any one would suspect
of leaving spoons and forks in other people's houses. But
how did it come that he had pansy stains on
the knees of his trousers. Philo Gubb thought of old
John Westcote all day, and toward night he hit on
a solution wedding presents. From what he had heard, Old
John was or had been, the sort of man to
accept a wedding invitation, go to the reception and eat
his fill, and never send the bride so much as
a black wire hairpin. And now grown old, his conscience
might be hurting him. He might be in that semi
senile state when restitution becomes a craze, and the ungiven
wedding presence might press upon his conscience. It was not
at all unlikely that he had chosen the unburglary method
of giving the presents at this late date. The form
of the unburgled goods forks and spoons, and the initials
engraved upon them made this more likely. That night, Detective
Gub did not report in person or by docket to
Marshall Whittaker at seven o'clock. He was hiding in the
hazel brush opposite Old John Westcote's lonely house on Poddock's Lane.
At seven fifteen, the old man tottered from his gate
and tottered down the lane toward the more thickly settled
part of town. Under his arm, he carried a small bundle,
a bundle wrapped in newspaper. Detective Gub waited until the
old man was well in advance, and then slipped from
the hazel brush and followed him, observing all the rules
foreshadowing and trailing as taught by the Rising Sun Detective
Agencies Correspondent School of Detecting. For three hours, the old
man wandered the streets. Now he walked along Main Street,
peering anxiously into the faces of the pedestrians with purblind eyes,
and now walking the residence streets. Detective Gub kept close behind.
As ten o'clock struck from the clock in the high
School tower, Old John Westcote quickened his steps a little
and walked toward the opposite end of the town, where
the lumber yards are. Down the hill into the lumber district.
He walked and Detective Gub dodged from tree to tree.
Half way down the hill. The old man hesitated. He
glanced around. At his side was a mass of lilac bushes,
seemingly strangely out of place among the huge piles of lumber.
Without stopping, the old man with the bundle slide from
under his arm and fall on the walk. For a moment,
it lay like a white spot on the walk, and
then it moved rapidly out of sight into the bushes.
Bundles do not move thus unless assisted, but Philo Gub
was too far away to see the hand he knew
must have reached out for the bundle. He ran rapidly,
keeping in the sawdust that formed the unfitful soil of
the lumber yard until he he dared come no nearer,
and then he climbed to the top of the tallest
lumber pile and lay flat. He commanded every side of
the hillside lumberyard, and he did not have long to wait.
From the lower side of the yard, he saw a
black figure emerge cross the street and disappear over the
bank into the railway switch yard below. Mister Gubb scrambled
down and followed. At the bank above the switch yard,
He paused, keeping in his shadow, and looked here and there.
Flat cars and box cars stood on the tracks in
great numbers, most of them closed and sealed, some partly opened.
He heard a car door grate as it was closed.
He slipped down the bank and crept on his hands
and knees. He was half way down the line of
cars when he heard a voice. It came from car
seventy eight eighty seven C B and Q. Run all
the breath out of me, said the voice in a wheeze.
Well did you get it, whispered another voice. Sure, I
got it. Got something anyway, Strike a match bill, and
let's see if he put up a job on us.
If he did, we'll blow him up tomorrow night. Hey,
that's right, we got a can of powder left under
the pile by the laylacks. How much is it? We
told him one thousand, didn't we? Same as he'd give
the law in order to help grab us. Now, listen,
you take half of this and go one way, and
I'll take half and go the other. We can get
away with five hundred apiece. And we got the five
hundred a piece we got for doing the dynamite job too.
Say I never thought to have a thousand dollars at
once and be life. What's that? It was Filo Gubb
slipping the car door latch over the staple and hammering
home the hasp with a rock. It was the engine
backing against a long row of cars to make a coupling,
and then moving slowly forward toward Durlingport. As the heavy
train got under way, the two rascals hammered on the
side of the car with their fists. They swore they
kicked against the doors. Philo Gubb drew himself into the
next open car as the train moved away. About the
same time, Officer Purcell entered the Marshal's office, where Whittaker
and Billy Guett sat awaiting the coming of Philo Gubb.
Purcell led John Gutman, the town half wit. I got him,
he said, proudly caught him comin out of sam Whence's
cellar window says. He didn't mean no harm. Had a dream.
He was to leave spoons on all the society folks,
and he'd be invited to all their parties. Did he fight, you,
asked Whittaker, Your pants is all stained up. Fight. No,
he wouldn't fight a sheep, I tripped over a wire
fence cut in a corner and fell into a flower bed.
Got hail Columbia from the lady too, she said, old
man Westcoat fell into the flowers yesterday, and she didn't
mean to have her flower bed used as no landing place.
Heard from Detective Gub yet, Whittaker grinned. We ought to
hear from him soon, and I reckon he'll be worth
waiting to hear from, and he was. Word came from
him about an hour later. It was a telegram from
the Sheriff of Durling County. Detective Gubb captured two of
the dynamiters to night have their confession. Arrest Pie Wagon, Peep,
Long Sam Underberry and Shorty Billings all implicated. And the
reward's up to five thousand dollars, said Officer Purcell. Let's
hustle out and nab the other three, and maybe we
can split it with Gubb and us sitting here thinking
we had a joke on him, exclaimed Marshall Whittaker with disgust.
It makes me sick. Well, I feel a little billyous myself,
said Billy Getz and of the un burglars by Ellis Parker, Butler,