Mum a 3‘5 3‘. - ..<.. l?- . $3. .Jf‘ilr- "W V“. .v fl’ fl' alumna“ " . ~ 1M;Kt.‘ ..W5.filvofi sitting—room. ‘ Mia-sac 3—1.‘ " » J. . .._4- h- *v “I’d like to know what it is?” he de- manded. “ There‘s no use in telling you; you couldn’t understand it if I did. It takes a woman to understand a woman, and you—why you are not even a sharp man." Blaize felt this depreciation, and it caused him to flare up a little. “Well, if I ain’t sharp, then I’m no use to you, and we‘d better quit at once, and for good.” Her face expressed her contempt for the speech and the speaker. “You are a bigger fool than I took you for, Sam Blaize. “Suppose, now, you go from me, where will you make as much money, and as easily? ” “But what’s the use in losing time this way?” He was more humble now. “We are not losing time, I tell you. When that old attorney Holland said that we would have to go to California, and have a warrant issued there before we could have her arrested, the idea of delay made me almost sick; for it was granting her six or nine months of re- spite, of pleasure, and I was so eager to precipitate the avalanche, to let the sword fall at once.” “But there was no help for it,” inter- rupted Blaize. “That’s the law, and we can’t change it, nohow we try.” “But there is a way of making her miserable while we’re abroad, and my woman’s wit discovered it at once.” “What way is that? ” “By telling her that I know of her crime, and that I intend to haunt her into her grave.” Sarah Rock’s eyes glared as she spoke, with a fierce light, and she clenched her hands tightly. But for fear of the law she would bury them in Laura Rob- sart’s round, white throat. “But what if she should run away? ” queried Sam. “ She won’t do that. Where would she run to? Besides, she would as soon die herself as to let old Elton Robsart know her secret. This will keep her at Robsart Place until we want her.” “Yes, I suppose you are right,” replied Blaize. “You women are wonderful creatures; can beat men planning and hating, all hollow. I never believed, though, a woman could hate so well be- fore.” She smiled that old smile that made her look so hideous, and asked: “ When will we reach Sydneytown?” “About five o’clock this evening, the clerk says.” “ Is there an inn or hotel there?” “I’m told there’s a sort of a shabby afiair, kept by a man named Pittock. That will do, I suppose.” “Yes, very well. How far is it from Robsart Place? ” “ ’Bout a quarter of a mile—from that to a half.” “ Very good." She arose, went to the cabin window, and looked out on the bay; while Blaize strode leisurely into the gentlemen’s cabin, picked up a copy of the Baltimore Sun, and was soon deeply absorbed in the details of a wrestling match which had taken place the day before at Old Point Comfort. The Daisy reached Sydneytown at six o’clock instead of five, and the sun was setting when Mrs. Rook and Sam Blaize turned their backs on the port, and walked up the only street the town could boast of, although now, when I come to think of it, it’s hardly possible that such a forlorn old town as this ever boasted of anything. Some of the houses have been painted white and some red, but the storms of twenty years which swept in off the wide bay, and over the town, had carried away the colors and left the fabrics all of one hue—a dull, ugly, monotonous gray. “ It’s a rum 01d hole,” remarked Blaize, as he gazed up at the frame church, the open steeple of which disclosed .a rusty bell. ” Seems to me if I wanted the world to forget I was alive I’d come to Sydney- town.” “ Yes, it’s a very ancient-looking set- tlement,” answered Mrs. Rook. “But where is the hotel?” “ Can’t say for that. Better go ahead till we find one.” They came to it at last. It was called the Calvert House, and had a great swinging sign before the door, represent- ing the founder of Maryland, in a cocked hat, trimmed with a poor imitation of real lace, a profusion of powdered hair, and a rather damaged-looking crimson coat. 'The building was a two-storied affair, with a long porch in front and a battalion of dormer windows on the mos- sy roof. There were two doors; one wide, the other narrow. The former led into the bar-room; the latter, through cour- tesy, was called the “ Ladies’ Entrance,” and opened into a dim, plainly—furnished Calvert Pittock, the proprietor of this establishment, was a little round 'man, with a Falstafiian physique and a bald head. He was a pleasant person; always had a smile for a customer, and was shrewd enough to charge just as much as his guests would pay, without grum- bling. He was all in a flutter of delight when to live in \Vashington; saw Jackson in- augurated. Yes, ma’am; I’ve seen a good deal of the ups and downs of this world." Mrs. Rook smiled at the boastful words. “ I presume you have; but how far is it from here to Robsart Place? ” He stopped dusting the chairs, looked down at the floor a minute, pursed up his lips, and while he drew a very red line over a watery blue eye, replied: “ Well, let me see. Go in a hack?” (( No.” K . “On horseback? ” “No; I’ll walk.” . “Ah! afoot—eh? Then your best way is through the woods. There’s a path from my back door leads directly there. The roadway is almost a half-mile, fair measurement, but the path cuts it down to a quarter and a fraction.” “ Thank you.” “ You’re perfectly welcome,” answered Calvert Pittock. “ I always tries to oblige my customers; it makes things pleas- anter all round.” He smiled blandly, bowed, and left the room. “ When are you going over?” asked Blaize. _ “After dark,” was the reply. (To be continued—Commenced in No. 693.) THE LAND OF PRETTY SOON. BY ELLA WHEELER WILCOX. I know of a land where the streets are paved W'ith the things which we meant to achieve. It was walled with money we meant to have saved, And the pleasures for which we grieve. The kind words unspoken, the promises broken And many a coveted boon Are stowed away there in that land some- where— The land of “Pretty Soon." There are uncut jewels of possible fame Lying about in the dust, And many a noble and lofty aim, Covered with mold and rust; And oh, this place, while it seems so near, Is farther away than the moon, Though our purpose is fair, yet we never get there—— The land of "Pretty Soon.” The road that leads to that mystic land Is strewn with pitiful wrecks, And the ships that have sailed for its shining strand Bear skeletons on their decks. It is farther at noon than it was at dawn, And farther at night than at noon: Oh, let us beware of that land down there— The land of “Pretty Soon.” Detective Dixon’s Dilemma. BY ED. LIVINGSTON KEYES. CHAPTER III. was 11‘ THE MOVE TO MAKE? That this information might prove of great importance Holmes was quite ready to believe, but in precisely what way he was far from determining. The clerk's confession that he had sold a Derringer to the gentleman whose sleeve-link was found so close to the“ dead body of the colonel, where a similar and probably the identical Derringer lay, tended to support the circumstantial evidence al- ready in his possession. But, try as he might, Holmes could conceive no motive that might have actu- ated this respected citizen to commit such a heinous deed. His every action, since the tragedy, was suflicient to dis— pel any such fanciful supposition. But how came the sleeve-link there? If the Derringer found by the murdered man’s body was the one which had been sold by the clerk to the citizen of Rehyville, how came the weapon by the dead man’s side? These were the questions so trouble- some to answer that absorbed Holmes as he drove homeward. He was haunted, too, by the fear that he had erred in not taking another into his confidence; two might succeed where one might fail. Should he consult some one older and more experienced than himself? No; the crime was too terrible to allow a breath of suspicion to point in any but the right direction, and he was fully conscious that the evidence at his command did point to one man. Miss Ina Rehy was a beautiful, charm- ing young woman of twenty. She had spent one winter in New York and an- other in Boston, and her beauty and ac- complishments had occasioned favorable comment in the fashionable circles of these cities. But the old family mansion, “The Elms,” occupied more than a cor- ner of her warm heart, and here she pre- ferred to remain the greater portion of her time. Five years after the death of her moth- er, Judge Rehy had married an estimable woman who was but ten years Ina’s se- nior. There was a congenial companion— ship existing between Ina and her step- mother, seldom met with in similar re- lationships, and her home life was in every way agreeable and pleasant. The late tragedy had affected Ina keen- he ushered the travelers into the parlor and ordered the black servant to prepare . a room for the lady. , “How long do you intend stopping at: Sydneytown?” he asked. “As to that, I could not say yet,” an- ; swered Sarah Rook. “Probably a dayf or two.” “Ah! yes; not on a long visit then; merely a flying trip from—” ' He paused and looked inquiringly atl Blaize. I “ From Baltimore,” added Mrs. Rook. “Just so! just so! From Baltimore, eh? Beautiful city; delightful trip down the bay.” He was straightening the table-cloth and dusting the stiff-backed wooden chairs as he made these remarks. “Do you know where Robsart Place is? ” questioned Mrs. Rook, after a mo— ment’s silence. “Oh, bless your soul and body, yes; of course I do. I have lived here in Syd- neytown these three-and-twenty years. Come down from Annapolis here. Used ly. She was fond of her soldier uncle, and his sudden deplorable end was a great shock to her. She had not ex- pressed the impatience and indignation she felt at the incompetency and inactiv- ity of the detectives; but she had unceas- ingly wished that she in some manner lmight be instrumental in shedding light upon the mystery enveloping her uncle’s death. She was quite unconscious that Dixon Holmes—for whom she entertained kind— ly feelings—had moved in the matter; and she was utterly ignorant of this young man’s feelings respecting herself. She felt grateful to Holmes for the services he had rendered at the trying time, and fully appreciated the motive which had prompted him to send a horseshoe woven of white violets for the colonel’s funeral. The design of this home-made floral of" fering was somewhat incongruous with the occasion, but Ina 'had found a place for it in her chamber. The day was bright and calm, and taking her sketch-book she called her dogs and started out into the grounds. This chanced to be the day following Holmes’ return from Wickham. Excitement over the information he had received, and perplexing theories so occupied the young man’s mind that he was unable to sleep that night, and morning found him unfreshed and nerv- ous. Feeling that a walk would be bene- ficial, he strolled forth in the direction of the woods where he frequently sat or wandered. Soon after entering the grounds he espied Miss Rehy seated be- neath an elm tree, apparently sketching from life, a huge Newfoundland dog be- ing her model. suppose you thi k me imprudent to be here alone,” obs rved Ina, as Mr. Holmes approached her with hat in hand. “You seem well protected,” he an- swered, glancing at the dogs; “ and, be- sides, the fiend does not live that would do you injury.” “Murderers have no respect for age, sex, or condition,” was the reply; “ at the same time I do not feel afraid here; but we never know at what moment some misfortune may overtake us. I suppose you have heard that Mr. Bloodgood had a slight stroke of paralysis at Paris re- cently? The steamer he was to return on brought the news.” But Mr. Holmes had not heard this, nor was he informed of numerous other incidents of a more agreeable character which she related. He spent a delightful half hour at her side, and as he rose to go she mentioned the subject he pur- posely had carefully avoided. “Do you not think it strange,” she asked, “that nothing has been discov- ered to point to the man who killed my uncle? ” “ Do not call the assassin a MAN, Miss Rehy! ” was the response. “ No one worthy of the name could be guilty of -such a cowardly and despicable act. Murder will not always out, notwith- standing the old saying. At the same time I have strong hopes that the per- petrator of this deed may yet be brought to justice.” “ Do, do tell me if you have heard any- thing!” she exclaimed earnestly. “I thought every one but ourselves had lost interest in the matter.” Oh, how the young man longed to tell her how, for her sake alone, he had given so many hours to physical and mental toil in the very case in which she fancied he had lost all interest! He could not consider himself in pos- session of information that might justify him in speaking yet; but the beautiful face was turned toward him with such an anxious expression of hopeful inquiry that he would have been less than hu- man had he not answered: “I can tell you nothing definite yet, Miss Rehy, and I beg of you not to ask me. But ever since the sad occurrence I have been more or less occupied endeavoring to find the guilty party, and I feel the discoveries I have made warrant me in saying that I am hopeful of ultimate suc- cess. I tell you this much solely from the belief that it may in a measure com- fort you; and when I add that my one chance of success may be made impos- sible if my present avocation becomes known, I need hardly ask for your prom- ise to regard this as confidential.” Joy is not the proper word to employ in describing the emotion which Ina ex- perienced when she received this unex- pected news, the subject was far too se- rious. At the same time it would have been strange had not this intelligence provoked a feeling of keenest interest and anticipation. Joy, however, is the proper and appro- priate word to apply to the sensation Mr. Holmes experienced when he observed how much his statement had pleased her. It is doubtful if the young man might have done anything better calcu- lated to raise him in the estimation of Miss Rehy than had this confession of the interest he had taken and the energy he had exerted in the mysterious case of her uncle. ‘ It seemed to them both that from that instant a congeniality existed between them which before had not been suspect- ed—at the least, by one of them; and the cordial handshake she gave him at parting impressed Holmes with the sin- cerity of her gratitude perhaps more than had her well-chosen words which amply repaid him for his good offices. He went home with a light heart, feel- ing that if no nearer to the solution of the problem he was much nearer to the one woman whom he loved. But, was he not nearer to the goal than he imagined? Difficult as it was to recon- cile himself to the belief that a promi- nent citizen and neighbor was the crim- inal, yet the evidence he had acquired all pointed so strongly to this one man that Holmes was conscious that he did not regard him as innocent, even while loyally endeavoring to doubt his guilt. Yet, ever and ever the troublesome question would arise: “Why should he kill the colonel? ” Day after day, and night following night, holmes tried in vain to find an answer that to himself would be satis- factory. While not holding the belief enter— tained by many that we invariably dream of the things last thought of be— fore sleep overtakes us, it is quite fre- quently the case that we do dream of things that have been constantly on our minds for a time—things with which we have been engrossed, desirous to ob- tain or to overcome. Holmes could recall more than one in- stance when he slept that he had been granted visions of this tragic scene. But HE had always been the murdered man. In this peculiar state, which for want of better name we call dreamland, Holmes had seen himself walking by the large elm tree in the judge’s grounds; then he had felt the sharp pain in his back that occasioned the fall which al-' ways awoke him. So often had this same vision been re‘- vealed that the young amateur detect- ive was convinced that the real mur- derer had concealed himself behind the tree, and that, as the colonel passed, the assassin slipped around and shot him in the back. It might easily have been ac- “After the recent terrible tragedy I- «aims seamless Mailings»- complished this way, the trunk of the elm tree was large enough to shield several men. If, in his dream, he might be allowed a glimpse of the assassin’s features he might use the information thus obtained to some purpose; but such a possibility was too remote to contemplate. Would it do to boldly charge the man with the crime? supporting it by reciting the finding of the sleeve-link and the confession of the gun shop clerk? Holmes asked himself this question more than once, and then in fancy tried to picture the result. No man guilty of the crime of murder would quietly sub- mit to being privately or publicly charged with it when supported alone by circum- stantial evidence that seemed weak and incompetent. ’ ' The suspected man was over six feet in height and of powerful frame. Holmes felt that if he should charge him with the crime the man would consider the matter a joke at first, and later, as he observed its serious nature, box his ears for his audacious impertinence. But desperate measures require des- perate treatment. There seemed to be no possible way open to Holmes to ob- tain the information he desired save by the plain blunt question: “ Why did you kill Colonel Rehy? ” Dare he put this to the touch to win or lose all? Yes; for her sake he dare. do anything, everything! He would ask this man to his house, where he had frequently been before, os— tensibly to consult him respecting a small piece of property. He would ask two other men to be present shortly before the hour appointed for the suspected criminal. These two men were not to be seen by the latter; but were to be hid- den behind the portiere that separated his parlor from his dining-room. But every word spoken in the front room might easily be heard by them. Then, if, as Holmes ardently wished, the man should commit himself, these men would be important witnesses. If, on the other hand, he should become indignant at the accusation, and attempt to injure Holmes, his friends in reserve would come to his assistance. feel any pride in its conception nor ar- rangement; he knew it was crude and faulty; but in the absence of a better one his impatience and anxiety influ- enced him to give this one a trial. At the worst he could but fail; and in the event of his winning, the possibili- ties were so blissful to contemplate that .the young man should be pardoned for his rashness. CHAPTER IV. " THE AMAZING TRUTH. Mr. Austin Bloodgood had returned. No evidence of his recent illness was apparent; he seemed in perfect health and fine spirits. He greeted his friends cordially, and related many interesting incidents of his foreign trip. He had stopped Dixon Holmes in the street and chatted familiarly with him. The latter had shown much embarrass- ment when Mr. Bloodgood alluded to the murder; evidently it was a matter he preferred not then to discuss, although, of course, it was the one subject upper- most in his mind. It was with a mingled feeling of hope and fear that he dressed himself prepara- tory to calling upon Judge Rehy. He had concluded that the brother of the mur-- dered man would be a proper person to witness what was about to occur in the front room of his little home. The judge greeted him kindly, and listened attentively .to his request. Holmes did not mention the character of the “discussion,” as he expressed it, which was to take place. He simply told the judge that it was a subject which would interest him intensely, and detain him but a short time; that the judge might name the day and hour which would most suit his convenience. Willing to humor him, and feeling that the affair was to be a debate between young men of the neighborhood, the judge politely accepted, and named the date. ‘Holmes next called upon Mr. Hep- worth, the coroner, and had little diffi- culty in persuading this official to meet Judge Rehy, at his house, on the day mentioned. So far he had been fortunate. How would he succeed in inducing his “ Ham— let” to enter upon the scene? This was not so difficult as it first ap- peared. The man had frequently visited Mrs. Holmes, the mother, and he had known Dixon since his birth. Without intimating that the matter was ‘of importance he would write, ask- ing him to call at his house on Thurs- day at 2 o’clock. With these truthful words the note closed: “I wish to con- sult you on a subject that has caused me much anxiety.” To this Holmes received a prompt re- ply that was in every way satisfactory. The eventful day dawned. Holmes was nervous and excited. To carry out the programme which had been arranged required courage, firmness, self-posses- sion, and not improbably a modicum of what may be termed justifiable prevari1 cation. Holmes felt that he would have to impress the man with the belief that he (Holmes) was better informed respect- ing the murder than he really was. He fancied his method might result in de- veloping the fact he desired. Mr. Hepworth arrived promptly, and the judge a few moments later. Holmes told them that he had a novel entertain- ment in store for them. He explained that it was not to be a pantomime; at the same time he was obliged to ask them to witness it from the other side of the portiere. ‘ He arranged comfortable seats and asked them to promise not to enter the front room unless he called upon them to do so. , Scarcely were the men seated when a loud knock at the front door announced the arrival of another. Hastily adjusting the portiere, Holmes went to the door and admitted the man to whom suspie cion so strongly pointed. Ushering his .visitor into the front This plan did not cause Holmes to room, Holmes closed the door behind them, wishing from the bottom of his heart that he had never become involved in the affair. But it was too late for regrets. His whole future life seemed at stake, and he must nerve himself for the occasion. l Turning to the man who sat opposite I him he said gravely, and in a voice that his own mother might have failed to recognize: “I sent for you to ask you WHY you killed Colonel Rehy? ” At this point a movement beyond the _ portiere startled Holmes, and he coughed l nervously. “That is too serious a subject to jest about, Dixon,” was the response. “ I had hoped that before this time some clew might have been discovered. But what was the subject you wished to discuss? ” “This very one,” answered Holmes. “When the detectives agreed that Col- onel Rehy had committed suicide, I re- solved to find the murderer if possible. I have in my possession the light colored coat which the colonel wore; this gar- ment plainly shows that he was shot in the back. I have also in my possession a sleeve—link picked up near to where the colonel’s body lay. This sleeve-link bears the letters A. B. in monogram. THOSE ARE YOUR INITIALS, MR. AUSTIN BLOODGOOD! Mr. Maxwell, a clerk in a gun shop at Wickham, confessed to me that he sold you a Derringer shortly before the murder. It was a Derringer, you may remember, that was found by the icolonel’s side. These facts, Mr. Blood- good, seem to justify my suspicion, and also to warrant my asking the question. But, lest you may deem this insufficient, let me tell you that-you WERE SEEN standing behind the large elm tree. As Colonel Rehy passed, you WERE SEEN to slip around and shoot him in the back. You WERE SEEN rolling him over and adjusting his hat after the fatal bullet had fulfilled its mission.” Breathless silence reigned in the back room.' The judge was trembling with suppressed excitement, and perspiration stood out upon his forehead. Mr. Hep- worth observed the judge’s agitation. Holmes watched intently the man 'he had accused. He had detected an ex- pression of surprise upon his face when he mentioned the sleeve-link; but that had vanished. There was nothing in Mr. , Bloodgood’s face nor attitude to indicate |alarm or uneasiness. On the contrary, {the smile visible upon his countenance suggested some pleasant thought. He stroked his whiskers meditativer for a while and then spoke. — “You deserve much credit, Dixon, for the steps you have taken to unravel the mystery, and the ingenuity you have dis- played in arriving at conclusions. I 'judge this is the first time you have played detective, and I am quite sincere when I say your efforts’deserve praise. ; I am another who never for one moment believed Colonel Rehy shot himself, and I am as anxious as yourself to discover the criminal. You may aid greatly in. this direction by mentioning the name of the individual who saw ME upon the scene.” Holmes was completely bewildered. This dispassionate reply was not what he anticipated, and he was endeavoring to find a suitable answer when Mr. Blood- good resumed: “ I conclude that you meant I was seen by the Deity; but you are in error. I will now answer your question. I had no reason whatsoever to kill Colonel Rehy, nor did I kill him. I never owned a sleeve-link bearing my monogram. The Derringer I purchased at Wickham has never been taken from the box I brought :it home in. Furthermore, I chanced to be in Boston on the day and evening of the colonel’s death. His body had been discovered before I alighted from the ‘ train at Rehyville.” Poor Dixon! all his labor for nothing! All his blissful dreams of the future but air castles that were now tumbling around him, and adding to his mortifica- tion and confusion. Mr. Bloodgood was a warm~hearted man, and he sincerely sympathized with the poor fellow, who he perceived was suffering keen disap- pointment. “Come, Dixon,” he said, “cheer up! I’m glad you accused me, for it may open the way to further developments. I will now tell you what my observation has taught me. I trust you firmly believe me when I tell you on my honor that I am innocent of the killing of Colonel Rehy. I will tell you something more that will occasion you greater surprise. Nothing will convince me that COL~ ONEL Rehy is dead! ” Mr. Bloodgood strongly emphasized the title when making this statement. An exclamation of surprise, and the low murmur of voices from behind the portiere was distinctly audible to Holmes; but he was too astonished and excited to heed such matters then. “Why, what do you mean, Mr. Blood- good! ” he exclaimed rising from his chair. “I assisted in preparing Colonel Rehy for burial.” “ I do not like to contradict you, Dix- on,” replied the other, “ but I must insist that you did not. You may, however, have assisted in preparing JUDGE Rehy for burial.” Numb with astonishment, dazed with amazement, Dixon stood spell-bound. Suddenly a loud noise, as of one falling heavily in the back room caused Dixon and Mr. Bloodgood to spring forward and part the portiere. As they did so, they saw Mr. Hepworth endeavoring to raise Judge Rehy from the floor. Mr. Bloodgood was greatly surprised when his eyes met this tab- leau. He recalled the grave charge that had just been made against him, and ob~ serving the embarrassment of the coro— ner and Holmes he was quick to suspect the presence of Judge Rehy and Hep- worth. “ It is a painful mistake, gentlemen,” he said, “ but I am not offended. Let me assist in loosening his collar and in placing him upon the sofa.” This was done as carefully and as quickly as willing hands could accom- plish. But in vain. The heart of the stricken man had forever ceased to beat! His face and neck, which at first had looked