A TRUE STORY.

      I was alone in my office at the divisional police station situated in the little out-of-the way township of Dunboro', it was after ten p.m. and I was just settling down for a couple of hours at my books, when a tall, fine-looking man entered the office with a cheery "Good night, Inspector," and placed a visiting card upon the counter.

      The card bore the inscription, 'Sergeant Bender, Criminal Investigation Department, Great Scotland Yard.'

      "You will be surprised at the late hour of my arrival, but, owing to the defective train service, I have been considerably delayed. However, I shall get my man to-night, I think."

      Here he produced a neat leather case, a document, and a photograph, which he handed over to me for examination.

      The paper was a duly signed warrant for the arrest of one Charles Eldercoat, on a charge of having embezzled £175, the moneys of his employers, Messrs Spark and Shimmer, a well-known metropolitan firm of jewellers and diamond merchants.

      The carte-de-visite, Sergeant Bender informed me, was the portrait of the "wanted" man.

      "I have information," went on Mr. Bender, "to the effect that young Eldercoat is putting up at the Bull and Stump in Dunboro' to-night. He is a traveller for Spark and Shimmer, and has been making their money fly like chaff for some time past. Dunboro' is his last business call in this district, and he means to make himself scarce. He has been writing to a pal in London to this effect, and his employers have got hold of the letter. I have called here to let an officer come with me to give me a hand in making the apprehension."

      I told him that I should be glad to accompany him myself, and the night sergeant who had just come, was left in charge of the office, while Sergeant Bender and I sallied forth in the direction of the Bull and Stump. Arrived at that house of entertainment, which had closed for the night, we rang at the front-door bell and were admitted by the landlady.

      The commercial room we found in possession of two men, one of whom, a curly-headed young fellow, with a weak face, I immediately recognised as the original of the photograph which had been shown me by the London officer.

      The young man raised his head as we entered, and it was easy to see that the representative of Messrs. Spark and Shimmer had been drinking more than was good for him. He was drunk, in fact good-naturedly, but almost helplessly, so when addressed by Sergeant Bender, he extended his hand to that officer, with maudlin smile and the invitation, "Si' down and have drink, old f'l'r."

GRAVELY THE SERGEANT PROCEEDED TO READ OVER THE WARRANT TO HIS PRISONER.
	Gaslight note: this "true story" appeared in various newspapers for at least a decade. This illustration comes from The [London] Weekly Dispatch (1900-apr-29) p07

      Gravely the sergeant proceeded to read over the warrant to his prisoner, whose face all the while preserved ridiculous expression of tipsy amusement, and at the close of his recital he laughed vacantly, shook the detective cordially by the hand, and remarked: "That's all ri', my boy; now have a liquor."

      We raised him to his feet between us and led him from the room, the landlady and Eldercoat's late companion taking in the situation with open-mouthed astonishment.

      We got our prisoner to the police station with no more trouble than was occasioned by his almost helpless condition.

      Whilst I was entering in my record book a report of the apprehension, Sergeant Bender proceeded to make the customary search of his prisoner's person. A pocket book containing £65, a gold repeater, a diamond ring, and costly scarf pin, were amongst the articles enumerated to me as I wrote. Sergeant Bender making them into a neat parcel and depositing them in the inside pocket of his own great coat remarked:

      "These will count as property recovered."

      Poor Eldercoat was then carried to his cell where he lay like a log upon the plank bed assigned him as a resting-place.

      "Well, now," said Sergeant Bender, "I think we managed that pretty well. I am really much obliged for your assistance, Mr. Inspector, and our people at the Yard will no doubt report favourably on the matter to your headquarters. Let me see, now. I sha'n't be able to start for town with my man until the 9.30 train in the morning, so I'll just go back to the pub and get a bed for the night."

      It was fully eight o'clock on the following morning when a movement in the cell announced that the prisoner was awake, and I walked down the corridor to have look at him. I was prepared to look upon a rueful countenance, but not for the white terrified face which confronted me as I opened the door of Eldercoat's cell.

      "Where am I?" he gasped. "Good Heavens, in prison! What for? What have I done? Oh, yes, I remember now," he cried, as a less agonised expression came into his eyes. "I was drunk last night, and must have got into the hands of the police. But my sample cases," he added quickly, "my money and papers, and things, they're all right, I suppose; you have got them?"

      I replied that he would find them safe enough, and then proceeded to enlighten him as to the true cause of his detention.

      Expressions of surprise and bewilderment alternated on his features during my communication, at the close of which he broke out into something like a fit of laughter.

      "Oh, this is rank nonsense, yon know," he exclaimed. "I am Mr. Spark's nephew, and am engaged to be married to his daughter. I never took a penny of the firm's money in my life, and if I done so, they would go into the Bankruptcy Court sooner than prosecute me. Can I telegraph to my uncle for an explanation?"

      I told him he had better await the arrival of the London officer whom I expected every moment from the Bull and Stump.

      An hour passed, and the gentleman from Scotland Yard being not yet on hand, I sent a message to the hotel.

      It was my turn to be astonished and alarmed when the messenger returned. The gentleman, I was informed, had left the Bull and Stump for the police station at half-past seven, taking with him the sample cases which belonged to Mr. Eldercoat.

      A light dawned me. Frantically I rushed to the telegraph office, and despatched two messages — one to Scotland Yard, the other to Messrs. Spark and Shimmer. It was long past the London train time when back came the replies, with stunning confirmation of my tardily aroused suspicions.

      No warrant had been issued for the arrest of Mr. Eldercoat, and the Scotland Yard authorities laconically disclaimed "Detective-Sergeant Bender" as a member of their body.

      I was in a mess. Poor Eldercoat was immediately released as a matter of course. My superior officers arrived in the course of the day, and every effort was fruitlessly made to effect the capture of the clever rogue.

      One result of our enquiries was the discovery that the soi-disant Detective-Sergeant Bender was identical with one Vernon Wells, a notorious member of the "swell mob," who was wanted all over the country for frauds and felonies, all carried out with singular daring and ingenuity.

      I was in sad disgrace for a long time, and I vowed that if ever I should meet Vernon Wells again that gentleman would find himself in as warm a corner as he had ever occupied.

      I did meet him once again, years after, and he was in as warm a corner as even I could have selected for him. He stood in a felon's dock, out of which he walked a convict for the remainder of his natural life, and a sentence of only a little less severity was meted out to Well's companion in the dock, whom I recognised with astonishment as the prosperous-looking individual with whom Eldercoat had been drinking on the night of his memorable arrest.