The Lady Sleuths MEGAPACK TM(307)

                His first words, however, settled all questions as to his personality: He was the order clerk at Altman’s.

                As he acknowledged this, I seemed to have some faint premonition of what was coming. Perhaps I had not been without some vague idea of the truth ever since I had put my mind to work on this matter; perhaps my wits only received their real spur then; but certainly I knew what he was going to say as soon as he opened his lips, which gave me quite a good opinion of myself, whether rightfully or not, I leave you to judge.

                His evidence was short, but very much to the point. On the seventeenth of September, as could be verified by the books, the firm had received an order for a woman’s complete outfit, to be sent, C.O.D., to Mrs. James Pope at the Hotel D——, on Broadway. Sizes and measures and some particulars were stated, and as the order bore the words In haste underlined upon it, several clerks had assisted him in filling this order, which when filled had been sent by special messenger to the place designated.

                Had he this order with him?

                He had.



                             And could he identify the articles sent to fill it?

                He could.

                At which the Coroner motioned to an officer and a pile of clothing was brought forward from some mysterious corner and laid before the witness.

                Immediately expectation rose to a high pitch, for every one recognized, or thought he did, the apparel which had been taken from the victim.

                The young man, who was of the alert, nervous type, took up the articles one by one and examined them closely.

                As he did so, the whole assembled crowd surged forward and lightning-like glances from a hundred eyes followed his every movement and expression.

                “Are they the same?” inquired the Coroner.

                The witness did not hesitate. With one quick glance at the blue serge dress, black cape, and battered hat, he answered in a firm tone:

                “They are.”

                And a clue was given at last to the dreadful mystery absorbing us.

                The deep-drawn sigh which swept through the room testified to the universal satisfaction; then our attention became fixed again, for the Coroner, pointing to the undergarments accompanying the articles already mentioned, demanded if they had been included in the order.

                There was as little hesitation in the reply given to this question as to the former. He recognized each piece as having come from his establishment. “You will note,” said he, “that they have never been washed, and that the pencil marks are still on them.”

                “Very good,” observed the Coroner, “and you will note that one article there is torn down the back. Was it in that condition when sent?”

                “It was not, sir.”

                “All were in perfect order?”

                “Most assuredly, sir.”



                             “Very good, again. The jury will take cognizance of this fact, which may be useful to them in their future conclusions. And now, Mr. Callahan, do you notice anything lacking here from the list of articles forwarded by you?”

                “No, sir.”