bank clerk detect the counterfeit bill?

"Now this second copy bore the same ear-marks as the one in my
possession--the edges of the canvas marred and jagged, the Fulton
Street label on the back. What was this mystery?

"Mystery--yes, and behind it the shadow of a crime, of a human tragedy.
Who was to lift the veil? There was but one man--Clive Richmond--who
could answer my question; and where was Clive Richmond? A week later I
found still a third copy of my 'Duchess' over on Sixth Avenue. I had
left my purse at home that morning, and when I went back the next day
to buy the picture it was gone--sold to a stranger. Did I say that I
had missed getting possession of the second picture through the same
sort of contretemps? I never saw either of them again.

"I had written to a friend in Petersburg to make certain inquiries for
me, and his answer confirmed my suspicions. The 'Red Duchess' was not
hanging in its accustomed place at the Hermitage; it was in process of
renovation, according to a statement made by the director of the
gallery.

"That was enough for me. The portrait had been stolen and was probably
in New York at this very moment. Where? Let me first find Clive
Richmond, and I must be quick about it, for once the secret of the
theft got out the detectives would not be long in rounding up the
various purchasers of those wonderfully accurate copies. This morning
the cable brought the news, and at dinner-time Mr. Blake's card was
presented to me. Quick work, Mr. Blake; I congratulate you.

"Here is the letter that I received just before we left my house; you
remember that it had come in the evening mail and been overlooked. I
will read it.

"'DEAR INDIMAN,--There's more in the art business than can be squeezed
out of a color tube, isn't there? But I have the secret now; it was
given me by Lely himself--no less. What a pity it is that I shan't have
the chance to use it, but you and the cognoscenti can fight it out
together. You might bury me decently if you like; you ought to be
willing to do that much, seeing that your critical pronouncements have
been so amply vindicated.

C. R.

"'P. S.--My secret? But on second thought I will take it with me.'"

St. John's Park and the streets fronting upon it was once a fashionable
quarter of the town. Now a hideous railway freight station occupies the
former park area, and the old-time residences, with their curiously
wrought-iron stoop-railings and graceful fan