liar with standard literature and current books, plays, and
magazine stories. But no editor is infallible, and once in a while a
stolen story "gets by." We know of two companies, each of which within
the space of six months produced stories that were plainly
recognizable as adaptations of "The Adventure of the Norwood Builder,"
the second story in "The Return of Sherlock Holmes." Another company
released a picture that was simply Maupassant's "The Necklace" so
carelessly re-dressed that we wonder the editor did not recognize it
after reading the first paragraph of the synopsis.

The final test of whether a story really resembles another closely
enough to suggest intentional plagiarism is when the similarity
between the two is recognized immediately by people in many different
parts of the country--yet that is too late to help any one involved!
The short-stories of "O. Henry" have been so widely read that when a
new story appears that closely resembles one of his it is not long
before comparisons are made. Three or four years ago a certain company
made a two-part picture that so closely resembled O. Henry's "The
Reformation of Calliope" that after its release one of the present
writers received letters of inquiry from photoplaywrights in five
different cities commenting upon it, three of the letters being from
young writers who, recognizing the resemblance, asked if it were
"permissible to take the principal plot-idea of a copyrighted story
and, by changing it about slightly, make it into a salable photoplay."
As might be supposed, they were earnestly advised to refrain from
doing so.

A dozen years ago there appeared in the English edition of _The Strand
Magazine_ a story in which a retired Indian officer, at a dinner given
to a party of his friends, displays a remarkably fine diamond. The
jewel is unset, having been taken--as most jewels in stories of this
kind are--from the head of an Indian idol. The stone is passed around
for inspection. The Hindoo servant is clearing some of the things from
the table, and the diamond has just been admired by an old gentleman
in a rather frayed dress-suit, when the attention of everyone present
is drawn away from the table for a moment or two. When they turn
around, the diamond has disappeared. Naturally, the guests are
embarrassed, but they all offer to allow themselves to be searched,
with the exception of the shabby-genteel old gentleman. While he
protests that he knows nothing