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Speaker 3: The Unburglars by Ellis Parker Butler. Although Detective Gubb's experience
with the Oubliet 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 Meadowbrook 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, and he asked, it ain't likely to suppose
we've had any word from miss Cyrilla, is it, mister meadobrook.
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 Meadowbrook, 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 Meadobrook twenty cents, and mister
Meadowbrook 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? Has happened at my house?
Oh there's a law, all 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. Marshall 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 Marshall 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 Griscom. But when we reached home last night,
this nicol 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 Griscom. 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 the town joker.
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 Griscom, 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 high 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 borrow 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 windmill. 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
a 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 flower 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 Correspondents 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 Gub 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 Agencies Correspondence School of Detecating, said mister
Gubb solemnly. I aim to do a strictly retail business
in detecating 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 in 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 heart
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 Gubb. 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 Getz. Common sense would
tell you that, wouldn't it. But listen, mister Gubb, I'd
let Whittaker 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's 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 duel 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
Marshal 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 Gadds, taking up
his lung tester. Suppose you stop in at the Marshal's
office to night 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 un burglary onto him, he'll get the scare,
all right, Detective Gub when it was time to go
to the Marshal's office, pinned his large nickel plated star
on his vest, put three false beards in his pocket,
and went. The Marshal received him cordially. Billy Gatz 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
detectives 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 Marshall'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 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 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 Millbrook 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 Agencies Correspondence
School of Detecating. Come to see about your unburglary, said
Filo Gub, 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.
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Speaker 3: How long have you been married? Asked mister Gubb, seating
himself on the edge of a chair and drawing out
a notebook 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 Filo 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 Millbrook. 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 Griskm'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 ever have had
a plated spoon in this house? Who sent you here? Anyway?
Nobody said Filo 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 Gattz had
not left any clue in the pan bed. Filo Gubb
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?
Oh sure, I could, said Frank, I make me no
troubles by DoD. Mister Coupe, 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 Vire, 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. Well, 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 to possible, But so did Unburglary. For 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 anyone 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. Filo Gubb thought of Old
John Westcote all day, and toward night he hit on
a solution wedding presence. 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 man
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 dies, 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 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 doin 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 stable 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 the 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 tonight have their confession arrest Pie Wagon,
Peep Long, Sam Underberry and Shorty Billings all implicated and
the rewards 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 Billy as myself, said Billy Getz. And of the
un Burglars by Ellis Parker Butler, you can.
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