he scarf."

Still sobbing, Mrs. Macey was helped into the carriage. Then
Mr. Macey enlisted the help of the bystanders.

In every direction the street was searched. The fronts of the
buildings opposite were examined; the gratings in the sidewalk
were peered through. But there was no trace, anywhere, of the
jeweled scarf.

"It will be worth two hundred and fifty dollars for anyone to
find it and return it to me," shouted Mr. Macey. That scattered
the searchers more widely still. Presently a woman friend drove
home with Mrs. Macey, while her husband remained to push the search.
He kept at it until two o'clock in the morning, half a hundred
men and boys remaining in the search.

Then Mr. Macey gave it up. The gaudy, foolish trifle was worth
about five thousand dollars. As the night wore on Mr. Macey began
to have a pessimistic notion that perhaps some one had found the
scarf but had been too "thrifty" to turn in such a precious article
for so small a reward.

"I guess it may as well be given up," sighed Mr. Macey, after
two in the morning. "I'm going home, anyway."

The readers of "The Blade" that crisp October morning knew of
Mrs. Macey's loss.

There was much talk about the matter around the town. People
who walked downtown early that morning peered into gutters and
down through sidewalk gratings. Then, at about seven o'clock
a sensation started, and swiftly grew.

One man, glancing skyward, had his attention attracted to something
fluttering at the top of the spire of the Methodist church, more
than half a block away from the opera house. It was fabric of
some sort, and one end fluttered in the breeze, though most of
the black material appeared to be wrapped around the tip of the
weather vane in which the spire staff terminated.

"That's the jeweled scarf, I'll bet a month's pay!" gasped the
discoverer. Then, mindful of the reward, he dashed to the
nearest telephone office, asking "central" to ring insistently
until an answer came over the Macey wire.

"Hullo, is that you, Mr. Macey?" called the discoverer, a teamster.
"Then come straight up to the Methodist church. I'll be there.
I've discovered the jeweled scarf."

"How---how many jewels are left on it?" demanded Mr. Macey.

"Come right up! I'll tell you all about it when you get here."

Then the teamster rang off, after giving his name. The real estate
man came in a hurry, in a runabout. His wife, pallid and hollow-cheeked,
rode in