the lost road-第22部分

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pocket…handkerchiefs　are　waving；　and　Joe　Hutton；　the　last　visitor
to　leave　the　ship；　is　at　the　gangway。

〃Good…by；　Holworthy！〃　he　calls。　　〃Where　do　you　keep　yourself？
Haven't　seen　you　at　the　club　in　a　year！〃

〃Haven't　been　there　in　a　yearnor　mean　to！〃　is　the　ungracious
reply　of　our　hero。

〃Then；　for　Heaven's　sake；〃　exclaims　Hutton；　〃send　some　one　to
take　your　mail　out　of　the　H　box！　Every　time　I　look　for　letters
I　wade　through　yours。〃

〃Tear　them　up！〃　calls　Holworthy。　　〃They're　bills。〃

Hutton　now　is　half…way　down　the　gangplank。

〃Then　your　creditors；〃　he　shouts　back；　〃must　all　live　at　the
Alexander　Young　Hotel　in　Honolulu！〃

That　night　an　express　train　shrieking　through　the　darkness
carried　with　it　toward　San　Francisco

In　this　how　evident　is　the　fine　Italian　hand　of　the　God　of
Coincidence！

Had　Hutton's　name　begun　with　an　M；　had　the　H　in　Hutton　been
silent；　had　he　not　carried　to　the　Mauretania　a　steamer　basket　for
his　rich　aunt；　had　he　not　resented　the　fact　that　since　Holworthy's
election　to　the　Van　Sturtevant　Club　he　had　ceased　to　visit　the
Grill　Cluba　cure　for　sleeping　sickness　might　have　been　discovered；
but　two　loving　hearts　never　would　have　been　reunited　and　that　story
would　not　have　been　written。

Or；　Mrs。　Montclair；　with　a　suit…case；　is　leaving　her　home　forever
to　join　handsome　Harry　Bellairs；　who　is　at　the　corner　with　a
racing…car　and　all　the　money　of　the　bank　of　which　he　has　been
cashier。　　As　the　guilty　woman　places　the　farewell　letter　against
the　pin…cushion　where　her　husband　will　be　sure　to　find　it；　her
infant　son　turns　in　his　sleep　and　jabs　himself　with　a　pin。　　His
howl　of　anguish　resembles　that　of　a　puppy　on　a　moonlight　night。
The　mother　recognizes　her　master's　voice。　　She　believes　her　child
dying；　flies　to　the　bedside；　tears　up　the　letter；　unpacks　the　suit…case。
The　next　morning　at　breakfast　her　husband；　reading　the　newspaper；
exclaims　aloud：

〃Harry　Bellairs；〃　he　cries；　〃has　skipped　with　the　bank's　money！　I
always　told　you　he　was　not　a　man　you　ought　to　know。〃

〃His　manner　to　me；〃　she　says　severely；　〃always　was　that　of　a
perfect　gentleman。〃

Again　coincidence　gets　the　credit。　　Had　not　the　child　tossedhad
not　at　the　critical　moment　the　safety　pin　proved　untrue　to　the　man
who　invented　itthat　happy　family　reunion　would　have　been
impossible。

Or；　it　might　be　told　this　way：

Old　Man　McCurdy；　the　Pig…Iron　King；　forbids　his　daughter　Gwendolyn
even　to　think　of　marrying　poor　but　honest　Beef　Walters；　the　baseball
pitcher；　and　denies　him　his　house。　　The　lovers　plan　an　elopement。
At　midnight　Beef　is　to　stand　at　the　tradesman's　entrance　and　whistle
〃Waiting　at　the　Church〃；　and　down　the　silent　stairs　Gwendolyn　is　to
steal　into　his　arms。　　At　the　very　same　hour　the　butler　has　planned　with
the　policeman　on　fixed　post　to　steal　Mother　McCurdy's　diamonds
and　pass　them　to　a　brother　of　the　policeman；　who　is　to　wait　at　the
tradesman's　entrance　and　whistle　〃Waiting　for　the　Robert　E。　Lee。〃

This　sounds　improbableespecially　that　the　policeman　would
allow　even　his　brother　to　get　the　diamonds　before　he　did；　but；
with　the　God　of　Coincidence　on　the　job；　you　shall　see　that　it
will　all　come　out　right。　　Beef　is　first　at　the　door。　　He　whistles。
The　butleran　English　butlerwith　no　ear　for　music；　shoves　into
his　hands　tiaras　and　sunbursts。　　Honest　Beef　hands　over　the　butler
to　the　policeman　and　the　tiaras　to　Mother　McCurdy。

〃How　can　I　reward　you？〃　exclaims　the　grateful　woman。

〃Your　daughter's　hand！〃

Again　the　God　of　Coincidence　scores　and　Beef　Walters　is　credited
with　an　assist。　　And　for　preventing　the　robbery　McCurdy　has　the
peg…post　cop　made　a　captain；　thus　enabling　him　to　wear　diamonds
of　his　own　and　raising　him　above　the　need　of　taking　them　from
others。

These　examples　of　what　the　god　can　do　are　mere　fiction；　the　story
that　comes　now　really　happened。　　It　also　is　a　story　of　coincidence。
It　shows　how　this　time　the　long　arm　was　stretched　out　to　make　two
young　people　happy；　it　again　illustrates　that；　in　the　instruments　he
chooses；　the　God　of　Coincidence　works　in　a　mysterious　way　his
wonders　to　perform。　　This　time　the　tool　he　used　was　a　hat　of　green　felt。

The　story　really　should　be　called　〃The　Man　in　the　Green　Hat。〃

At　St。　James's　Palace　the　plenipotentiaries　of　the　Allies　and　of　Turkey
were　trying　to　bring　peace　to　Europe；　in　Russell　Square；　Bloomsbury；
Sam　Lowell　was　trying　to　arrange　a　peace　with　Mrs。　Wroxton；　his
landlady。　　The　ultimatum　of　the　Allies　was：　〃Adrianople　or　fight！〃
The　last　words　of　Mrs。　Wroxton　were：　〃Five　pounds　or　move　out！〃

Sam　did　not　have　five　pounds。　　He　was　a　stranger　in　London；　he　had
lost　his　position　in　New　York　and　that　very　morning　had　refused　to
marry　the　girl　he　lovedPolly　Seward；　the　young　woman　the　Sunday
papers　called　〃The　Richest　Girl　in　America。〃

For　any　manfor　one　daythat　would　seem　to　be　trouble　enough；　but
to　the　Sultan　of　Turkey　that　day　brought　troubles　far　more　serious。
And；　as　his　losses　were　Sam's　gain；　we　must　follow　the　troubles　of
the　Sultan。　　Until；　with　the　aid　of　a　green　felt　hat；　the　God　of
Coincidence　turns　the　misfortunes　of　the　Sultan　into　a　fortune
for　Sam；　Sam　must　wait。

From　the　first　days　of　the　peace　conference　it　was　evident　there
was　a　leak。　　The　negotiations　had　been　opened　under　a　most　solemn
oath　of　secrecy。　　As　to　the　progress　of　the　conference；　only　such
information　or　misinformationif　the　diplomats　considered　it　better…
as　was　mutually　agreed　upon　by　the　plenipotentiaries　was　given　to
a　waiting　world。　　But　each　morning；　in　addition　to　the　official　report
of　the　proceedings　of　the　day　previous；　one　newspaper；　the　Times；
published　an　account　which　differed　from　that　in　every　other　paper；
and　which　undoubtedly　came　from　the　inside。　　In　details　it　was　far
more　generous　than　the　official　report；　it　gave　names；　speeches；
arguments；　it　described　the　wordy　battles　of　the　diplomats；　the
concessions；　bluffs；　bargains。

After　three　days　the　matter　became　public　scandal。　　At　first；　the
plenipotentiaries　declared　the　events　described　in　the　Times　were
invented　each　evening　in　the　office　of　the　Times；　but　the　proceedings
of　the　day　following　showed　the　public　this　was　not　so。

Some　one　actually　present　at　the　conference　was　telling　tales　out
of　school。　　These　tales　were　cabled　to　Belgrade；　Sofia；　Athens；
Constantinople；　and　hourly　from　those　capitals　the　plenipotentiaries
were　assailed　by　advice；　abuse；　and　threats。　　The　whole　world　began
to　take　part　in　their　negotiations；　from　every　side　they　were　attacked；
from　home　by　the　Young　Turks；　or　the　On　to　Constantinople　Party；
and　from　abroad　by　peace　societies；　religious　bodies；　and　chambers
of　commerce。　　Even　the　armies　in　the　field；　instead　of　waiting　for　the
result　of　their　deliberations；　told　them　what　to　do；　and　that　unless
they　did　it　they　would　better　remain　in　exile。　　To　make　matters　worse；
in　every　stock　exchange　gambling　on　the　news　furnished　by　the　Times
threatened　the　financial　peace　of　Europe。　　To　work　under　such
conditions　of　publicity　was　impossible。　　The　delegates　appealed　to
their　hosts　of　the　British　Foreign　Office。

Unless　the　chiel　amang　them　takin'　notes　was　discovered　and　the
leak　stopped；　they　declared　the　conference　must　end。　　Spurred　on
by　questions　in　Parliament；　by　appeals　from　the　great　banking　world；
by　criticisms　not　altogether　unselfish　from　the　other　newspapers；
the　Foreign　Office　surrounded　St。　James's　Palace　and　the　office
of　the　Times　with　an　army　of　spies。　　Every　secretary；　stenographer；
and　attendant　at　the　conference　was　under　surveillance；　his　past
record　looked　into；　his　present　comings　and　goings　noted。　　Even
the　plenipotentiaries　themselves　were　watched；　and　employees　of
the　Times　were　secretly　urged　to　sell　the　government　the　man　who
was　selling　secrets　to　them。　　But　those　who　were　willing　to　be　〃urged〃
did　not　know　the　man；　those　who　did　know　him　refused　to　be　bought。

By　a　process　of　elimination　suspicion　finally　rested　upon　one
Adolf　Hertz；　a　young　Hungarian　scholar　who　spoke　and　wrote　all
the　mongrel　languages　of　the　Balkans；　who　for　years；　as　a　copying
clerk　and　translator；　had　been　employed　by　the　Foreign　Office；
and　who　now　by　it　had　been　lent　to　the　conference。　　For　the　reason
that　when　he　lived　in　Budapest　he　was　a　correspondent　of　the
Times；　the　police；　in　seeking　for　the　leak；　centred　their　attention
upon　Hertz。　　But；　though　every　moment　he　was　watched；　and　though
Hertz　knew　he　was　watched；　no　present　link　between　him　and　the
Times　had　been　established…　and　this　in　spite　of　the　fact　that　the
hours　during　which　it　was　necessary　to　keep　him　under　closest
observation　were　few。　　Those　were　the　hours　between　the　closing
of　the　conference；　and　midnight；　when　the　provincial　edition　of　the
Times　went　to　press。　　For　the　remainder　of　the　day；　so　far　as　the
police　cared；　Hertz　could　go　to　the　devil！　But　for　those　hours；
except　when　on　his　return　from　the　conference　he　locked　himself
in　his　lodgings　in　Jermyn　Street；　detectives　were　always　at　his　elbow。

It　was　supposed　that　it　was　during　this　brief　period　when　he　was
locked　in　his　room　that　he　wrote　his　report；　but　how；　later；　he
conveyed　it　to　the　Times　no　one　could　discover。　　In　his　rooms　there
was　no　telephone；　his　doors　and　windows　were　openly　watched；
and　after　leaving　his　rooms　his　movements　wereas　they　always
had　beenmethodical；　following　a　routine　open　to　observation。
His　programme　was　invariably　the　same。　　Each　night　at　seven　from
his　front　door　he　walked　west。　　At　Regent　Street　he　stopped　to　buy
an　evening　paper　from　the　aged　news…vender　at　the　corner；　he　then
crossed　Piccadilly　Circus　into　Coventry　Street；　skirted　Leicester
Square；　and　at　the　end　of　Green　Street　entered　Pavoni's　Italian
restaurant。　　There　he　took　his　seat　always　at　the　same　table；　hung
his　hat　always　on　the　same　brass　peg；　ordered　the　same　Hungarian
wine；　and　read　the　same　evening　paper。　　He　spoke　to　no　one；　no　one
spoke　to　him。

When　he　had　finished　his　coffee　and　his　cigarette　he　returned　to
his　lodgings；　and　there　he　remained　until　he　rang　for　breakfast。
From　the　time　at　which　he　left　his　home　until　his　return　to　it　he
spoke　to　only　two　personsthe　news…vender　to　whom　he　handed
a　halfpenny；