ridicule. One Times reader wrote, ‘It is possible that there is a more foolish, more credulous man in all of England than Colonel Binder, but it is difficult to think who he might be. Any man who believed in “the spirit guide Arton, clothed all in golden light,” has no business calling himself defrauded; he may as well have gone for advice to a conjurer at a county fair, or to a man who fries pancakes in his hat. One hopes that he has learned from the experience, and that he counts himself fortunate in having spent only a few thousand pounds for the privilege.’ Binder’s suit was dismissed amid a welter of accusations and counteraccusations.
“Lord Harrison Sanderson disappeared later that year. Rumours placed him in India, in Egypt, in America. Did he take Colonel Binder’s money with him when he left? No one knows.
“Without Sanderson the Order splintered into various schisms. A small branch existed in London as late as the 1930s. In the 1950s the Order was revived in Los Angeles and a few years later a second American branch started near San Francisco. Very little has been heard from the OotL in recent times.”
Molly got the London Times microfiche for August 1910, threaded it onto the reader, and wound it to August 19. She found nothing there, but in the next issue, August 20, she was rewarded. “Colonel Augustus Binder Brings Charged of Fraud in Lesser Applebury,” a headline said, and under that in smaller type: “‘ The Order of the Labyrinth Promised Me Wealth, Power ,’ He Says.”
The story was the same as that in Swafford-Brown’s history. Binder said that he had been promised an initiation into the secrets of the Order, that he had been asked for money totaling over five thousand pounds, and that finally, at the end of thirty years, he had received nothing but what he called “folderol.” As proof he offered documents he claimed were rituals of the Order, which the Times reprinted in a separate article.
“Miss Emily Wethers, who was observed to bite her nails to the quick both on and off the stand, said that the Order had asked for nothing from Colonel Binder,” the story continued. “‘We requested his presence at the meetings, nothing more,’ she said. ‘Where are the five thousand pounds he claims to have spent? I daresay there is no such sum missing from his accounts.’ As her testimony came late in the afternoon the court recessed for the day.”
Molly wound the fiche to the next day, August 21. “She seems awfully nervous,” John said. “Biting her nails to the quick, it said.”
“Maybe she bit them all the time,” Molly said.
“She didn’t mention it.”
“Would you? If you were writing an account of your life would you put in all your bad habits?”
The librarian raised his head and scowled at them. “Okay, okay,” John said. “Here it is.” He pointed to the headline on the screen. “Fraud Trial Continued in Lesser Applebury .”
“Colonel Augustus Binder, who claimed to have been defrauded of ‘over five thousand pounds’ by members of the Order of the Labyrinth, received a blow to his case today as his banker, a Mr. Thomas Wheeling, took the stand. According to Mr. Wheeling, ‘Colonel Binder has never withdrawn any large sums of money for which I cannot account, nor has he written cheques to the Order of the Labyrinth or to any of the four defendants.’ Lord Harrison Sanderson’s banker, Mr. Griffin Patmore, took the stand next and noted that Sanderson had never received money from Colonel Binder.
“The proceedings were interrupted by Colonel Binder, who shouted, ‘You’re a pack of liars, all of you. You’ve defrauded me, and Lady Dorothy as well,’ and was suppressed.”
There was nothing about the trial the next day, or the next. In the newspaper for the next week Molly and John found a brief note saying the suit had been dismissed.
“That seems to be that,” John said. “I wonder why they didn’t check Emily’s bank
“Lord Harrison Sanderson disappeared later that year. Rumours placed him in India, in Egypt, in America. Did he take Colonel Binder’s money with him when he left? No one knows.
“Without Sanderson the Order splintered into various schisms. A small branch existed in London as late as the 1930s. In the 1950s the Order was revived in Los Angeles and a few years later a second American branch started near San Francisco. Very little has been heard from the OotL in recent times.”
Molly got the London Times microfiche for August 1910, threaded it onto the reader, and wound it to August 19. She found nothing there, but in the next issue, August 20, she was rewarded. “Colonel Augustus Binder Brings Charged of Fraud in Lesser Applebury,” a headline said, and under that in smaller type: “‘ The Order of the Labyrinth Promised Me Wealth, Power ,’ He Says.”
The story was the same as that in Swafford-Brown’s history. Binder said that he had been promised an initiation into the secrets of the Order, that he had been asked for money totaling over five thousand pounds, and that finally, at the end of thirty years, he had received nothing but what he called “folderol.” As proof he offered documents he claimed were rituals of the Order, which the Times reprinted in a separate article.
“Miss Emily Wethers, who was observed to bite her nails to the quick both on and off the stand, said that the Order had asked for nothing from Colonel Binder,” the story continued. “‘We requested his presence at the meetings, nothing more,’ she said. ‘Where are the five thousand pounds he claims to have spent? I daresay there is no such sum missing from his accounts.’ As her testimony came late in the afternoon the court recessed for the day.”
Molly wound the fiche to the next day, August 21. “She seems awfully nervous,” John said. “Biting her nails to the quick, it said.”
“Maybe she bit them all the time,” Molly said.
“She didn’t mention it.”
“Would you? If you were writing an account of your life would you put in all your bad habits?”
The librarian raised his head and scowled at them. “Okay, okay,” John said. “Here it is.” He pointed to the headline on the screen. “Fraud Trial Continued in Lesser Applebury .”
“Colonel Augustus Binder, who claimed to have been defrauded of ‘over five thousand pounds’ by members of the Order of the Labyrinth, received a blow to his case today as his banker, a Mr. Thomas Wheeling, took the stand. According to Mr. Wheeling, ‘Colonel Binder has never withdrawn any large sums of money for which I cannot account, nor has he written cheques to the Order of the Labyrinth or to any of the four defendants.’ Lord Harrison Sanderson’s banker, Mr. Griffin Patmore, took the stand next and noted that Sanderson had never received money from Colonel Binder.
“The proceedings were interrupted by Colonel Binder, who shouted, ‘You’re a pack of liars, all of you. You’ve defrauded me, and Lady Dorothy as well,’ and was suppressed.”
There was nothing about the trial the next day, or the next. In the newspaper for the next week Molly and John found a brief note saying the suit had been dismissed.
“That seems to be that,” John said. “I wonder why they didn’t check Emily’s bank
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