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Two Weeks. 98 WILLIAM STREET, N. Y., December 31, 1879. $2.50 3 Year,

 
' HUNTED DOWN; or, The League of Three.
BY ALBERT W- AIKEN, .
AUTHOR or “m spomn nmc'rm,” “ rm: NEW YORK ‘snmp’,” “ OVERLAND KIT,” “noon momm non,” rm, m
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EVDDENLY um FLOOR UNDER MONTGOMERY GAVE WAY. HE WAS mm

 
2 Hunted Down; or, The League of Three.

 
‘ HUNTED DOWN;
THE LEAGUE? OF THREE.

BY ALBERT W. AIKEN,

,0 .amon or "m sporr'rnn DETECTm,” “0”an m,"

"I

_ in close conversation.

“In nw roan ‘snnp’,” “11mm max,” mm, are.

 
CHAPTER I.
m HASQUERADE-BALL.

Tun large ballroom of the Ocean House at Newport, the
far-famed summer-resort, was ﬁlled almost to suffocation by
a gay and brilliant throng.

It was the last masquerade of the season—the crowning
triumph of mirth’s brilliant reign.

On the morrow the crowd of laughing maskers would do-
part for their city homes.

The crash of the music mingled with the joyous notes of
the hilarious voices, with the rustle of the motley masquerad-
ing garments, and the light tread of the tripping feet.

In a corner of the room stood two of the masqueraders
The two were of the sterner sex.
Like all within the room, they were in fanciful costumes,
which, with the masks they wore over their faces, completely
concealed their identity.

The ﬁrst of the two, who stood nearest to the door that
gave entrance to the ball-room, was small in stature; a dainty
little fellow; in form, an Apollo in miniature. He was
druaed in a rich court suit, of the style worn by the butter-
ﬁy‘courtiers of Louis the XIV of France. The coat was of
the ﬁnest silk-velvet, a rich wine in color, and adorned with
heavy, gold embroidery and jeweled buttons, that sparkled
'ike diamonds in the blaze of the gas-light. His perfectly
proportioned lower limbs were incased in pearly silk stock-
ings and lemon-colored knee-breeches of lustrous satin. The
diamOnd-buckled shoes, the embroidered waistcoat, ﬂowing
lace neck-tie and powdered wig, completed the elegant cos-

tune.
The dress was perfect and ﬁtted the perfect form of the

young man like a kid-glove ﬁts the hand.

One thing we have neglected to mention.

In the snowy folds of the costly lace handkerchief, that
was fastened carelessly around his neck, gleamed a strange
ornament. It was a golden breastpin, fashioned in the like-
ness of the tulip ﬂower, and thickly spotted with tiny little
rubies. An odd conceit.

The second of the two was a large and portly person.
He was dressed as a monk, in a gray domino, the cowl
drawn tightly over the head. The domino was girded in at

' the waist by a string of wooden beads, from which hung a

rudely-shaped cross. His face was concealed bya mask that
portrayed the features of an old man with a heavy, ﬂowing,
gray beard.

The hands of the monk, playing nervously with the cross
suspended from his waist, were coarse and clumsy, red in
color and ugly in outline—the hands of a man accustomed
to rough and dirty labor, yet they were covered with rings
wherein shone precious stones. Diamonds and rubies,
emeralds and pearls, adorned the ugly, coarse ﬁngers.

-There was as much difference between the hands of the
large man who wore the monk's garb and the white and
delicate ﬁngers of his companion, dressed in the court suit,
as their was in their ﬁgures. As much difference in their
natures as there was in their hands.

Yet these two men were intimate friends.

The smallest of the two—the delicate little fellow—was
sailed Tulip Roche; a gentleman by birth and breeding, an
exquisite by nature and habit. The only son of wealthy
parents, at their death he had inherited an ample fortune.

Tulip was noted among the fast young “ bloods " of New
York—in which city he resided—for his taste and excellent

‘ judgment.

He was the best-dressed man who walked Broadway.
His carriages and horses not excelled by any “ turnout”
ever seen within the thronged driveways of Central Park.
His up-town mansion on Murray Hill was the envy of the
neighborhood. All that taste could devise or money procure

adorned it.
“ A glorious, good fellow, though devilish peculiar in ms

” said the World, of Tulip Roche.
companion, the stout man dressed as a monk, was
'uan Stall—a German by birth, or as his enemies

up; 3", ,3} .v-s. oats,“ .‘ ‘. .

 
said, bluntly, a German Jew; as though a man‘s birth. at I
parentage could be ﬂung in his face as a disgrace.

Was the taunt of his foes truth or not, Herman Stoll in.
dignantly denied that Jewish blood ﬁowed in his veins, al~
though, after one look into his face—one quick glance at
the high cheek-bones, curved nose, piercing black eyes, and.
short, crispy, curling hair—any one gifted with the skill of'
“ reading faces,” would surely have concluded that Herman
Stoll lied when he declared that no blood of the scattered na— '
tion, who can not claim a country of their own, ran in his
veins.

Herman Stoll was a broker by occupation, doing busi—
ness in Wall street, and reputed to g a sharp, far-sec-
ing man, and one well gifted with this World’s golden trea~
sures.

If the broker was not a wealthy man he acted like one,
and spent money as freely as though it were as easily get as
water.

A great patron 'of the “ turf" was Herman; a bright and
shining light among the frequenters of Jerome Park, and
like places. His face, too, was well known to the attaches of
the opera-house and the leading theaters.

But to the conversation of the two. ,

“ Who is that i" asked Stoll, as a tall, elegant fighre wear-
ing the sable robes of " Hamlet," and having on his arm a
blonde beauty attired in the bluish sheen of “ Morning,"
passed by them.

“ Which one—the man or the woman?” asked Tulip.

“ Well, both?”_ replied his friend.

“To commence with the lady ﬁrst, she is called Frances
Chauncy—" " ‘ '  * ' ‘ " ‘ "

“ What! the Lexington avenue belle!” interrupted Stoll.

“ The same,” Tulip replied.

“ I didn’t know. that she was here.”

“ You haveth used your eyes much, then.”

“ Why, is she stopping at the hotel ?"' asked Stall.
“ No, she is withsome friends, who have a cottage near

the West Beach.”

"Ah, I thought that it would be impossible for her to
stop here and escape my notice."

“ She has been out on the drive and down on the beach
often enough.”

“ Yes, that may be, but I haven’t happened to notice her,”
replied Stoll; “ but the man, who is he? He looks deuced
well in that dress.”

“ Yes, he‘s a handsome fellow,” said Tulip, with a tinge
of bitterness in his tone. _

“But who is he?”

‘ You know him well enough. It's Angus Montgomery,"
'Iulip replied.

Stoll started a little as the name fell upon his ears, and a
smothered curse came through his thick, sensual lips.

Tulip, gazing intently after the two, did not notice his
companion’s agitation.

“ Montgomery, eh?” Stoll said, dryly.

“ Yes, the modern Crasus, the ' glass of fashion and the
mold of form,’ Apollo and Hercules, combined," said Tulip,
sneeringly. '

“ I believe you are very well acquainted with him?" Stoll
queried.

“ Oh, yes! we were boys together.”

“ He‘s enormously rich, isn’t he?”

“ Yes. He’s the son of a thrifty Scotchman, a petty!
store-keeper, who managed in some way to fascinate and)
marry the daughter of a hunch refugee, whom the Revolu-
tion drove to this country. The old Frenchman was rich,.
a nobleman, too, and this daughter was his only child. His:
name was Montgomerie, and one of the conditions of the:
marriage was, that the father of this Angus should take his-
wife's family name instead of her taking his. Of course
he acceded to that readin enough. When the old French.
man died, all his money came to his daughter and her has.
band. I A short time after Angus was born, his father died.
Of course this Angus was a spoiled child; his mother never
denied him any thing. When Angus was twenty, he lost

his mother, and, at the age of twenty-one, he found himself
one of the richest men in all New York. His father’s-

thriftiness had more than doubled the immense fostune left-
by the old Frenchman.”
“Did itturnhishcsdat all, whenhe eameintothispro-
y,”
“ No, not" Tulip replied, with a laugh. “ He acceptedi
itasamatterofooursa Hahsdnetbseabroughttoknow‘
the want of mag."

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Hunted Down; or, The League of Three. ' '3

 
“ That is, he is a man born with a silver spoon in his
mouth, as the saying is," Stoll said.

“ Yes, only his spoon was a gold one."

“ He knows how to take care of his money, too, I'm
told"

“ Yes, he’s no fool.”

“ And this Miss Chauncy, is he engaged to her?"

Stoll, gazing after the handsome couple, did not notice
the thrill of pain that shook Tulip’s light form as the care-
lessly put question fell upon his ear.

“ I—I really can not say,” Tulip answered, slowly.

“ Well, if one can judge by their manner toward each
other, at any rate, they are lovers.”

“ Miss Chauncy is said to be something of a coquette.”

“ A coquette?"

“Yes, I believe it is so reported," Tulip replied.

“It would be just his luck to get her,” said Stoll, coarse-
ly. “ These money-bags always marry each other."

“ Well, he may get her, and then he may not,” Tulip ob
served, dryly.

Something in the tone of Tulip’s voice attracted Stoll’s at-
tention. He turned from the masqueraders to his compan-
ion.

“ Hallo! I fancy that—to use the popular saying-‘ I
smell a mice.’ Did you ever care for Miss Chauncy?”

Tulip winced at the question.

“ Oh, don‘t be afraid to answer,” Stoll continued. “ If
my suspicion is true, we are both in the same boat.”

“ What do you meant” Tulip demanded.

“Why, that both of us have cause to hate this Angus
Montgomery.”

Tulip looked with wondering eyes upon Stall. The
brokers voice was hoarse with passion as he uttered the
words.

“And do yr 1 hate him?”

“ No man in this world do I hate more bitterly,” replied
Stoll, angrily.

“ And why so! Do you love this beautiful girl, Frances
Chauncy?"

“ Love l” exclaimed Stoll, in scorn, “love a woman, that
strange compound of vanity and deceitf Oh, no! I like
women well enough, until I tire of them, which is very
soon. But, as to hating any man on account of a woman—
Well, when I do that, they can send me to a lunatic asylum.”

“ Why then do you hate him?"

“ Tulip, I can’t very well explain,” said Stoll, in confu-
sion; “ but I do hate him, and I’d go a thousand miles and
spend a thousand dollars to be revenged upon him."

“ And so would I!” added Roche, firmly.

“ I guessed right then about Miss Chauncyf”

“ Ye‘s, two months ago she gave me her word that she
would be my wife.”

“ And she has broken that promise?”-

“She has not yet told me, but I feel sure, from what I
have seen and heard, that she has. This Montgomery is the
cause of it, and I’ll be even with him, even if it costs me
my life!”

Little did Montgomery know of the foes that were so
no" him.

 
CHAPTER II.
was onscu’s wanna.

“Ham!” and “Morning,” represented by Mr. Angus
Montgomery and Miss Frances Chaotic). Pmmenldeddown
the room together.

A‘ Tu“? ROChe had guessed—as all the fashionable

world, who were makin New rt their summer home‘had
said—the twain were lovgen. p0

Chatting together, laying thou "nothings," that are so
sweet to lovers ears, they made their way through the ever-
changing groups of nun-queue.“

Suddenly the two were confronted by a “M M t“
in white. . ,

The form was that 0‘ I Woman arrayed in a domino of
white silk. A mask of the same has and material concealed
her face.

The hood of the (101!““0 59ml tightly drawn (as her.
head, met the mask in 11011800“ nostraylookofhair
could be seen. .. ‘

nu ma. hands of the woman were covered h, white

 
kid gloves. The tiny feet that peeped out from under the
folds of the domino were incased in white boots. -

All was white.

But through the snowy mask shone a pair of large, jet-
black eyes, eyes full of life and ﬁre. a

The two halted, in astonishment, when they were
fronted by_the strange, white ﬁgure. .  . 1

“ Black and white are the hues of mourning. tire-“em ,:
blems of grief; they do not look well together,” said til 1‘
ﬁgure in white, in a low voice, evidently disguised. ,

Montgomery did not like the words of the speaker. - Sire
plainly referred to his sable dress of Hamlet and the white
robes representing “ Morning,” worn by Miss Chauncy. -

“ Do you see the color of my dress?"

“ Yes. "

“I am called THE Warm Wm!"

“ The White Witch! Indeed?"

“ Yes, I can tell of the past——”

“ That is not diﬂlcult; history does the ulna.

“ Speak also of the present. ” I

“ The daily newspaper is your rival there." ,_ '

“ And sometimes reveal the future,” said the disguised
figure, solemnly. A . 5 . ' “

“ Ah, now you are stating something wonderful,"'said
Montgomery, laughing. He fancied that this ehrmdinary
commencement was but the' prelude to one ofthe usual
masquerading jokes. “ I suppose that if I cross’your palm
with silver you will tell me all about my future life. Tell
me whom shad marry—how many times, and’ intact, all
the particulars?" ' . . ~ . p ; A  'l. "

“Oh, I don’t like fortune-tellers,” said Miss' Chin'ncy,
petulantly, “ they- always say such horrid, dingreeable
things.”  ,.. ,
“Do not fear, lady,” said the WhiteiWitch,:softly'; “I
can not tell your fortune.” ‘  v I z i

“ Only mine, then, eh?" said Montgomery, begihning‘ to
enjoy the joke. 4 ' ~ L "

“Yes, only yours” . .. .‘ -' "

“ You see how highly favored I. am: by fortnnei’ex-
claimed the young man, laughing, to his companion. "

“ Perhaps you will not think that you are highly'ﬁored
when you hear the fate that is in store for you,”.ea{d‘the
White Witch,,slowlyﬂand sadly, v I... i '. , >"

“ There, I knew it wOuld be semething disagrebabiel‘e’i'el-
claimed the blonde beauty, in a tone of conviction;" /- “

“ You have excited my curiosity, and now X't'a'n defer
mined to hear what my fate is to be—that is, iﬂyb'u'can'tell
me,” said the young man, gayly. . ":2  v a "

“ Within one month at most you will not doubt my power,”
replied the mysterious ﬁgure. ~ I ; a. ':i .3' 

“ That’s right, pitch it strong, as my out-muhimester‘
used to say,” said Montgomery, laughing." ' -i "

“ You will follow me, then?" - " l ‘wl‘l' “

“ Where?" ' - ' . ~ ' - ‘

“ Only to the balcony. What I have to say to yon'mnst
be spoken to your ears alone.” "

“ Is it absolutely necessary?” ‘ '- ‘

“ Yes,” replied the seeress, decidedly. 5

“ Have I your permission to leave you fbr .e‘fewimoi‘
mentsr" Montgomery asked, speaking to the faingirl upon 'his
arm. “I confess that this mysterious messenger am the
other world has excited my curiosity." :.. z r - , v

“ Certainly,” replied the lady, withdrawing her 
his. . A ' 3 ' ‘ ' L "

“ But wait a moment!" cried Montgoimry, to the White
Witch, who had turned to lead the way ’to the balcony, “are
you sure that you know who I I'm?" "

“ Quite,” responded the masked ii re,‘ ‘ ‘m 3‘.“ I“,
are Mr. Angus Montgomery, and yoE‘r con’i‘poani’otd’ﬁtﬁloas
Frances Chauncy.” , > . '2  -'

“ She does know us," said Month inthe-yonn'g girl‘s
ear. “ Can you guess who she is?” > i " '

“ No, I do not think that I have sves‘heard’hu Voice be;
fore,” said the blonde beauty, slowly. ‘ r- I " l -

“ I confess that it puzzles me, for her yoloeis nbt familiar
to me either,” Montgomery said, thoughtfully: ‘

“ I am waiting,“ said the clear tones of-the oracle. 4

“ A thousand pardons," cried Montgomery, quickly; " ex-
cuse me, please, for a few moments,” he said, to Frances,
with a bow, then through the group of maskers he followed
the mysterious ﬁgure, dressed all in £white, to the balcony.

The clear rays of the summer moon shone down upon the
balcony almost as light as day. -

Montgomery ’s curiosity had been strangely excihd by th

 
.u‘nu.

g. Hunted Down; or, The League of Three.

 
mysterious announcement made by the “ White Witch,” as
'she" had term'édhe‘rself, and he' was determined to carry out
the Joke, for such he considered it.

The balcony was almost deserted. A few couples only
strolled up and down, enjoying the cool ocean breeze.

The White Witch led the way to a remote corner of the

' broad plats, and there she halted.

Montgomery had followed her without hesitation.

“All things are ﬁtting for a mystic disclosure,” said the
young man's-syn, as they halted. “ It is the ‘witching
hour when churchyards yawn '—the m00nbeams are shin-
ing full upon us, and I, with becoming gravity, wait to hear
my fate."

“Would to heaven, Angus Montgomery, that other lips
than mine could tell you of that fate,” said the mysterious
figure, in low and mournful tones.

In spite of himself,'Montgomery was impressed by the
tone in which she spoke. '

For a moment the young man looked at the white ﬁgure
before him in'silenti'amaiiement, then at last he said:

“ I am waiting to hear my fate."

“ And you have n'd rear!"

“‘th “by  I' “fer

“ Your past life has been all sunshine?"

“.7”. _,  w :x , -.

, ‘? But of the future—”

I ". Well, what .of the future?”

‘,‘ The clouds 'of misfortune gather heavy around you i”

" 59 that the sun shine through the clouds in the end,
that dire I?” said Montgomery, ﬁrmly.

“ At present you are happy t”

\ll Yul” ' ' ' 1 ’ " ' '

“And why are you happy?" asked the strange ﬁgure,
unestly.

I ""; whistle, poisibly, a diﬂcult question to answer.”

" I will answer it for you.” '

.,, «139A ,i ,~.;«-».: .~'

“ In the ﬁrst place you have plenty of money.”

“ That’s the key-note to nearly all human hearts}? said
ngomery; sebrnfully. ' “ You are right to put money

Fantn‘.-,,,:Iiz-
-“ Youhave warm and devoted friends.”
(“Yu‘MM I l
“ One friend particularly, whom you love as a brother—
'lialipﬁoche.” '
“ Again you are mm. Tulip is like a brother to me,
and 1‘ think that-abroth'er-like—he would peril his life to
serve me,“ Montgomery said, 'quickly.
“ Money and friendship—what else is wanting to com-
Plate.qu happiness!” asked the White Witch, signiﬁcantly.
“ Well, if you can not tell, you are not half a witch l” exa
dammit-thew“: man. ' '
u Love.” " .
“ That is the answer.”
“ And you ﬁnd that love in the heart of Frances Chauncy t”
NJNQWL you're ‘ touching upon a delicate subject,"‘said
Montgomery. gravely. “ Speak as you like about my money
and my friends, but I would prefer that you should not
mention Miss Chauncy: The relation that I bear in regard
tothet My. 3 such that I can not permit her name to be
made the subject of a masquerading jest." '
‘:‘ XQI}: will ﬁnd that the jest is bitter, earnest truth, be-
fore many days are oVer," replied the masked woman, in
salesman“: . ‘
“ I am really losing patience!" exclaimed Montgomery;
" it [you have taught to say to me, please say it at once, and
let ‘ me ,to' the ball-room. "
"‘ I am speaking of' the present that I may speak of the
future. ., You  rich, beloved, happy ?" questioned the sibyl.
u Ya.” .
" Now, listen to my words. Your riches will take to
mommy“ wings and ﬂy away; the friend that you have
taken to your breast and cherished like abrother, will turn up-
; on‘and sting you; the woman that you love will prove false
to you. Wealth, friendship, love, all will desert you.”

- “ What!” cried the young man, indignantly, and a frown
was upon the brow that the mask hid.
, “ Time will prove my words to be truth,” said the White
Witch, in a clear, ﬁrm voice.

.“.;Ledy,.you are going altogether too far," and a trace of
anger was in Montgomery’s voice as he spoke; “ too far own
for a masqueradedest. I would stake my life upon the faith
of the woman I love."

“ 0h, matehiess folly i" cried the mysterious woman, in a

.- ,<.-‘—.p.w....u-.. - nﬁIl'r‘

meditations.

 
tone of scorn. “ Do you not know that all women are not
angels-that some are as unstable as water, as ﬁckle and as
changeable as the Wind?”

“ And who are you that tell me this?" demanded Mont-
gomery, astonished at her words and manner.

“ I have already told you I am THE WHITE WITCH. Who.
ther I am your. good genius or your evil angel, time alone
will tell. I may be friend or I may be foe; but mark my
words, within one month, or one year, you will lose wealth,
friends and love. All will desert you. Frances Chauncy
loves your money and your station; not you. When the
blows fall thick and heavy upon your head, remember the
words of the White Witch.”

Then she glided from the balcony, and entered the ball-
room. ' For ‘a moment Montgomery paused in astonishment,
then followed her; but she had disappeared.

 
CHAPTER III.
rename 'rna meme.

Vanna Montgomery searched amid the gro ps that crowd-
ed the ball-room; the strange Woman attired a" in white was
not to be found. ' " ‘ ' ' " '

Montgomery was puzzled.

“ This may be a joke,” he mattered, to himself, “ but it
is a very strange one." ‘ '

A hand laid upon his shoulder interrupted the young man's

‘.‘." .1; l.“* '

Turning, Montgomery saw at his side a tall ﬁgure dressed
in the loose, white garb‘of'a Pierrot—iihe'French clown.
' "Well, Montgomery", how are; yod énjhy'in'g yourself?”
said a genial voice, coming from beneath the long, pointed
nose puns. white mask that ,the new-comer wore.

. . Bizthbr Voice, Mbntgom‘ery recognizéd'who it was that ad-

dressed  , y .
' “Is‘th'at you, O’Conneif" he asked.

“Yes,” repliedthe other, re oving his, mask, and dis-
playing the face' of a man‘of"th rty‘. " The face was a hold
and handsome one; reg'ular'in outline, clear red-and-whim
in color, lit, up by a p‘airi’of full blue eyes; eyes so darkly
blue that, at a few paces off, they looked like ,bl ck. Crispy
curls of a rich ‘gold'en‘ hue clustered aroun the shapely
head. The broad, expansive forehead, and the ﬁrm-set, reso-
lute mouth, shOWed bo‘th brain and will. There Was a lurk.
lng devil in, the range blue‘eyes that ion of nuns fiery pas.
sions.

Lionel O'Connel—so the stranger in white was called_
was noeommon man. I An Idsnman'by birth. he had.,but
lately'com‘e 'to‘the rate that offers a' home to the oppressed
of every nation. , V .

By profession, Q'Qonnei was a writer,and was attached
to the "staff" of a justly-celebrated'd ily newspaper.

The young Irishman ,wietlded' a bril ntand vigorous pen.
and was already spoken of"t'is due ’ of‘the'“ rising men ” 01
the “ Fourth Estate," as the mighty men of the “Trees
gang ”"'ari!'termed'. "‘ ’  r" " V "'

There was a mystery, too, about O'Connel that served to
attract attention to him. Of course every one was aware
that his salary could not~'be~large-—for, as a general rule,
there is more fame than money in the newspaper world~
yet, somehow, he contrived to live in most excellent style,
Always possessed of .dniplsT means, as Ebent his money with
a lavish hand. None of the youngﬁpi ods " with whom
he associated—for O’Connel had contrive v to introduce him-
self into the 'ﬁi‘st'circles inlNew York—LEwere more princely
in their expendituree.  ‘ '

When questioned sometimes by some curious friend as to
how he could mote to be so entraVa'gant, he would laugh
carelessly, and'Vaguely spear: of 'his family estates across the
water. And,so at last! it came to be currently believed that
he' was the' heir to" some vast property in Ireland, and that,

his'présent way 6: life was merely a whim, such as is often -

indulged in b men wit? are independent ofthe world.
‘ 'So’Lio’n'el' ‘Cbnnél, hottg‘h "a worker for his bread in th.‘
reat hive of lifti known as New York city,.w‘as well received
by men‘o’f breed n’éh'nd dfiw'e'a'ith',’ who tshortlist! to sully their
dainty angers with theistains‘o‘ftoii. ‘  ~ '- ‘
O'Connel was a man who wondrous powm of
fascinatibnﬁ "Men were attracted‘tb‘him by. some subtle in.
stinct that'they'c'ould neither understand ner' re'sis't. Young
and beautiful women. the belles of the fashionable world,S

 
* a)
N

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F
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45

 
Hunted Down; or,

_____________________________________________

-

 
a

bestowed their sweetest smiles upon the dashing young Irish-
man. Yet he did not seem conscious of ‘this power that he
possessed, and often spoke with wonder of the ease with
which he made friends.
“ A thorough good fellow—no man’s enemy." Such was
. the opinion of the world.

“ Yes,” O'Conncl replied to Montgomery’s speech. “ I’m
enjoying myself very well, but I’m a little puzzled just
‘0'.”

“ At what?” O'Connel asked. _

“ Listen and I’ll tell you. I suppose that it's only a joke,
but I don’t like such jokes. As I was promenading with a
lady a few minutes ago, I was accosted by a woman dressed
all in white, who, in reply to my question, said she was
called the White Witch. She asked for a few minutes’
conversation with me alone. I followed her out on the bal-
cony, and there she predicted that all sorts of misfortunes
were going to come down thick and heavy upon my head.
Mind you, this was all said in sober earnest; there didn’t
seem to be the least bit of a joke about it. Then she re-

urned‘ to the balloroom. I followed the moment after, but
she has disappeared as suddenly as she appeared, and I can
not find any trace of her."

“ What were the evils with which she threatened you?"
asked O’Connel, an earnest look in his eyes despite his efforts
to appear unconcerned. I

“ The loss of wealth, of friends. and the woman I love.”

O’Connel could not repress a slight start when Montgom-
ery’s word's fell upon his ears.

“ I see that you, too, are astonished,” continued Mont-
‘ gomery. l . .

“ Yes, naturally so,” replied the young Irishman, care~
lessly. “ Did you' not recog'nize this person?”

“ No; she is, I think, a stranger to me. The voice was
not familiar. " .
In]: Well, it is odd, to say the least,” said O’Connel, thought

3'. ., .

“ Yes; I’d give something to ﬁnd out who it la"

“ Oh, it’s only a joke. ", ,

“ Yes, but I don't like such jokes,” Montgomery said,
seriously. And as he spoke, he caught sight of the blonde
beauty dressed as “ Morning ” coming toward him.

“ Will you excuse me!” he said to O'Connel, hastily.
“ I see that I am wanted.”

Then Montgomery joined Miss Chauncy, and drawing
her arm in his, was soon lost to the eyes of O’Connel in the
crowd.

Miss Chauncy was quite eager to know what the strange
White mask had said' to her lover, but Montgomery evaded
the question. He did not tell the blonde beauty of the
strange prediction of the White Witch.

After Montgome left him O’Connel remained motionless
for a few momen‘ s, absorbed in thought. it was evident

that his musings were not pleasant ones, for a shadow was
on his face. V '

“ I can not understand it," he muttered, at length. " The
words of the White ‘Witch are strange to Montgomery, but
doubly so to me, that am behind the curtain. It is merely
a masquerading joke, without meaning, or has some un-
known powcr guessed the secret thoughts—mot even yet
translated into words—that are swelling in my brain? It
must he a coincidence. How could any one guess my pur-
pose? I have not yet begun to lay the train by which the
mine is to be exploded. I must to work, though, at once.
Now for my tools; the hands who are to do the work that
my brain plans." .

Then his eyes fell upon two maSqueraders standing to-
gether near the wall and apart from the dancers. . ,

“ There they are,” he said, and a smile came over his
face. “ The two, who in serving their ends, serve mine.

'i We three. Elﬁn“.  powerless; together, with my head'

_ to guide, we  a hog,"
‘ - O'Connel replwéd.   and walked slowly over to
where the two stood that he had noticed,

They were TWP W119 Alia Herman P‘oll. .

The two, busy in Odh'ﬁm'llloli.‘dld not notice the approach
of O‘Connel. I H  , h. i
-. Just as O'Connel un.'1‘,9ms6mé "
: arm in arm, chatting gayly erihert.,i:lked‘pqt.

r “Thus “3°! 3°. Will" 9‘4...5i°llv will muttered curse
against Montgomery was smothered by  , ‘ ‘ ‘
, cred his lips ‘ _
“ A pretty couple," said O'Connsl. in. his my wiy, can.
lawman-mm» ‘ '

O mask that cov-

The League of Three. 5

‘ Stoll, and the third, Lionel O’Connel.”

  Chauncy, ,

 
ﬂ

“ Hallo, Con!” exclaimed Stoll, in his coarse way. H.
had recognized the voice of the Irishman.

“ I say that they are a very pretty couple,” repeated
O’Connel. '

“ Who?" said Stoll.

“ Why, the two that you just referred to, Mr. Angus
Montgomery and Miss Frances Chauncy. Don’t you agree
with me? If you don't, Stoll, I am sure that Tulip here .
will. Every one knows how like brothers he and Angus“
are, and of course, brother-like, he thinks the world of Miss
Chauncy. I suppose you will act as Angus’ best man, eh,
Tulip?" .

Had the mask been torn, suddenly, from the face of Tulip
Roche, the action would have revealed features white with
rage. . -

But Tulip’s secret was hid by the mask, so he held his
place and said nothing. . r . . v

“ Montgomery is a lucky fellow, isn’t her".;ccatinued
O’Connel. “ Rich as an Aster, handsome. aslalpictura, and
loved by an angel in the guise of this blonds beauty, what
else is wanting to complete his happiness!" .  

“ You speak of the fellow as if he were a god,” saidStoll,
loweringly. .   ' . .

“ I have only spoken truth, given one.sids.of thezpidture =
Told of Angus Montgomery, rich and beloved. I~havenot
yet said any thing about his three enemies, now standing 
this ballroom, who will pull him down ,fronhiszpianaob Oil ;
triumph, give his money to the winds and test: from Marthe
love of the woman that he fondly fanciesis all-his Mini?) ‘l'n "

“ Why, what do you mean 1" asked,.8toil,‘ in astonishment,
and Tulip’s eyes, too,'asked the question. . . . ‘ um E 

“ Exactly what I say," replied O’Connel, coolly: ﬁlm ll
Angus Montgomery has three deadly enemies atandlngxalr w,
most within. ear-shot of him. Three men whmwiil rcb'him-s ..
of every thing that he holds dear in this Would}... . ’ .. . 1 v

Tulip and Stoll looked at each otherin wonder. n ;..:,. iiw'<

For a moment there was silence. The two seemed to be ‘

considering the strange words of O’Connehr ffl’i * . i I
“ Montgomery has three enemies?" said Stall. =
“ Yes,” replied O’Connol.
“ Who are they?" ,. , . , . . -,
“ The ﬁrst is called Tulip Roche; the second, 
L..“»' I.‘_;-,:
The two men started as though they had received an else-r a:
trio shock when the Irishman pronounced their names. ~ . .r .-.
“ What the deuce do you mean, 00a?” asked» Stall.
hastily. “ I am not aware thatI am anenemy of Ms. Monte
gomery." V V
“ N0r I," said Tulip, slowly. . H ; ‘e ..
“ Gentlemen, let us lay our cards upon the table; it is, .
better that we should see each other’s hand, for we Insist
play partners and not against each other in this game," said
O'Connel, coolly. “ l, for one, hate this Angus Montgow
cry; you hate him, too, Stoll, and you, too, Tulip, although.
you may deny it." A _ , a
“ Why should I hate him?" asked Stoll, bluntly. ‘ r , .
“ Because he has beaten you with your own weapons and .. .,
at your own game. He now holds arod of terrorpverycup A
head. You are to see him tonight and compromise the mat-._,
terif possible." ' 4  A, , I  J. De“
Stall hung his head, abashed. O’Connel had spoken but
the truth. , ,, i ,, ,1, ..
“And now, you, Tulip; you hate him because henhss.
won the love of Frances Chauncy from you. ,She gaxeyqu,,, ,
herwa that she would become your wife; shehasbqupn.
that word. And I hate this man, because I hate him;,.,a ,.
woman’s reason. I propose to you, gentlemen, a league, ._.,
of three, the object of which shall be to ruin thin.,mt~-
gomery. You, Stoll, shall have the money   
man is going to wring from you; Tulip, you 
Fi’ances Chauncy, and I will have nothing returnees»
that will content me. What say,you..seni-16W’,w 419,39'7 '
we are powerless to injure him; united we ,will, humble,
this Angus Montgomery even to the dust. Oops; .
Shall wethreeﬂghtthiscnemaur” r  , 
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camel: Iv. ,  $.11
mma m 'd' ‘.> ‘11-: .‘lg'l Uni.

 
_l.‘t|'t’l':' "(l "7

Tem- andstoll locked at O'Connal ta mum.¢,m,.
replied not to his plainly put question, ,;
“Dom. gentlemen, your answer?" said O'Ooaaol. to

 
r'. i. ll  ‘11.! I .l"‘-J'v

 
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6 Hunted Down; or, The League of Three.

a h . -_,.._.W _

patiently,rﬂnding that they did no; speak. “ Do you know

I fahcy that‘if'Montgomery‘had the same cause for reveng
against you that you am against him, and a kind friend—like

myself—1me to.place_ in his hands the weapOns of vengeance
that I offer you, he would not hesitate long about accepting,
cold, ‘ canuy' Scotchman as he is, though he was born in
America and the blood of two nations runs in his veins."

“ I, for my part, can not answer at present," said Tulip,

" with considerable hesitation.

.J“Nor’ I,” muttered Stoll.

“ You require time?"

“ Yes," both answered, in a breath.

“ To think it over, eh?"

“ Yes,” again replied Tulip, and Stoll nodded assent.

“No, gentlemen, do not try to deceive me. I am not
worthy to be your chief, if I could be deceived so easily. "

Tulip3and Stoll looked at each other. The masks upon
their faces hid a strange expression.

O’Connei-nOticed the look.

“ I say chief, because in this League of Three I am to be
the chief. . It was my brain that conceived the idea of the
league. Alone—each acting for himself--we are powerless
against ‘our common enemy. Like Napoleon, he would beat
us in ‘ detail.’ But leagued together—a brotherhood of three,
each for all,tand all for one, like the Three Musketeers of
Dumasa—we can pull him dowu from his proud position in
the world and trample him beneath our feet," said the Irish-
man, calmly and smoothly.

Tulip and Stoll listened in amazement. They felt the
force of O’Connel’s words.

“ And now, gentlemen, I’ll tell you why you require time
and can not answer my question at once,” continued the
Irishman. “,In the ﬁrst place, you, Stoll, have made up
your mind to see Montgomery and try—if possible—to crawl
out of the extremely awkward position in which your own
acts have placed you."

Stoll started with astonishment. O’Connel had guessed his
veryithought.

“ And you, Tulip," continued O’Connel, who did not seem
to notice the evident embarrassment of the stout broker,
though it was evident from the quick, exulting ﬂash of his
eye that Stoll’s confusion had not been unobserved by him,
“ you hesitate to reply, now, because you doubt the truth of
my words—and of your own senses, for you are not blind,
nor a fool—in regard to Miss Chauncy, and you have deter-
mined to learn the truth from her own lips.”

Tulip could not repress a motion of astonishment.

O’Oonnei's lips curled curiously; a second time his guess
was right.

“ You do not reply, gentlemen,” he said, in his quiet, easy
way. "‘ My words are true, then, since you do not deny
what! have stated. Now I can save you the trouble of
carrying out your resolutions by telling you that you will
fail.”

Again, Tulip and Stoll looked at each other with eyes full
of wonder.

“ Montgomery will not give you, Stoll, one single inch of
vantage; and the fair Frances, Tulip, will treat you in a
most scornful manner and will refuse to satisfy you in any
one particular.” O’Connel spoke as lightly as if he were re-
lating a pleasant jest, and yet his words were like hands play-
ing upon the life-chords of two human hearts.

“ And as you can read the future so well, can you tell us
what we will do after We meet with these disappointments!"
asked Tulip, in a tone slightly sarcastic.

“ You will come to me and accept my assistance. Then
we will form the League of Three and ﬁght this single man,"
replied O’Connel, firmly.

“ You are sure of this?” and a light laugh came from un-
der Tulip's mask, as he asked the'question, yet the ring of
the laugh sounded hollow and false.

' “Yes,” and the Irishman spoke with a confident air.

“ But see, there are your birds,” he continued. “ Yonder is
Montgomeryisearchlug through the throng as though looking
for slime nag-and there in the corner of the room, seated, is
Miss Chauncy. Now, gentlemen, try your luck, and within
squatter-of anhour you will own that I ama true pro-
phat.”

For a moment the two, stood, irresolute.

Then Tulip took a few: steps in the direction of Miss
Chauncy, and then paused, and turned. M if to Put 8 quution
to O'Connel. , , ,

H You will and me on the balcony, outside, admiring tn.
moan.” the Irishman said.

 
Again Tulip was astonished, for O’Connel had guessed the
question that he was about to put.

“ Can this man read my very thoughts?” he muttered, and
then he said aloud, “very veil, I will see.”

“ You will come, you mean!” exclaimed the Irishman,
laughing.

Tulip turned away without replying. In truth his brain
was bewildered He loved Frances Chauncy as few women
in this world are loved. By day and night he dreamed only
of the moment when he should have the right to fold her to
his heart and call her his forever. And now a great gulf-~—
as deep as his love and as broad as his despair—had opened
between him and the object of his love. If the words of
O’Connel were true—if he could believe the evidence of his
own eyesight—she was false to the vows that she had sworn
to him but a little month ago. His brain was on ﬁre. Love
and anger struggled for the mastery.

“If she is false to me—” he murmured, and there was a
dreadful meaning in the unﬁnished sentence.

Slowly, he approached the chair where sat the blonde
beauty.

After Tulip’s departure, O’Connel turned to Stoll, who had
remained, motionless.

” And are you not disposed to ‘ interview ’ Mr. Montgom-
ery and find out whether I have spoken truth or no?” ilt
asked.

The German, who was, apparently, deep in thought, lifted
up his head at the words.

" Yonder he is, dressed as Hamlet,” and O‘Conncl indicated
Montgomery as he spoke.

“ Yes, I see him," said Stoll, slowly.

“ Your interview will be a short one; you'll ilnd him more
of a ‘Shylock’ than a ‘ Hamlet,’ tonight,” and O’Connel
laughed as he spoke. ‘

Stoll shivered. The cool words of the Irishman seemed
to chill him like the touch of ice.

“ You’ll find me on the balcony.”

Stoll mumbled something indistinctly, and hurried awa .

“ Shallow fools!" muttered O’Connel, his lip curling in is
dain, “ as if it needed witchcraft to fathom the thoughts is.
their minds or to guess what action Montgomery or delicate
Frances Chauncy will take in this matter! Montgomery des-
pises Stoll, because it is in his nature to despise any thing
that is mean and low. He has Stoll on the hip and he’ll
make him sweat for what he has done. And as for the lady
—-there are no true women now-a-days—she is young, pretty
and proud; an arrant ﬂirt, and without the slightest bit of a
heart. She has loved Tulip and has tired of him. She fan-
cies that she now loves this Montgomery; she will hold to
that fancy until she sees some one else that she will ‘ fancy ’
that she loves better. Then good-by to Mr. Montgomery.
And such creatures are the ones that we.men love with all
our passions and call ‘ angels,’ when, half the time, there is
more of the lower world in their natures than the upper one.
And yet I am as great a tool as the rest, for I love, too.”
Ami then he laughed, cynically. “ How I hate this Mont-
gomery!" he said, suddenly. “From love to hate, a quick
transition and one that is made more than is dreamed of in
this world. I have laid my plans skillfully. I’ll pull this
man down until he grovels in the dust at my feet. These
two men, Tulip Roche and Herman Stoll, shall ﬁnd me
money. I myself have the tool wherewith to carve out my
vengeance, and that tool is a woman. The old Turk was
right when he said that women are at the bottom of every
thing in this world. My siren shall lure him to destruction-
lead him along the path that my hand will dig full of pit:
falls.” A hoarse laugh of triumph completed the sea
tence.

“ It was strange that Montgomery should receive warning
that danger lurked in his life-path,” said O'Connel, musing1y.
as the words of the young man came back to his mind?
“ Possibly an idle jest—a masquerading joke, I; is odd
though, that it hit the truth so well. Now, I'll to my post
on the balcony. In a few short minutes the League will be
formed, and then for Vengeance on the man that I hate so
bitterly! Few could guess, to look upon this gay and bril-
liant scene, of the terrible scheme of vengeance that is to be
born here amid the gs strains of music and the oyous laugh
of merry voices. In t is life it is sometimes to tell what
mountain peak conceals the volcano."

Then O'Connel slowly made his way through the merry
throng of laughing masqueraders and emerged from the heated
ball-room to the balcony, swept by the cool wind. of m.
asses and lighted up by the silvery mooahearns.

 
l
i
,5

__..a _

 
. mean... a”... .

 
Hunted Down; or,

 
The League of Three. ' 7

 
After leaving O’Connel, Stoll preeeeded across the ball-
room to where Montgomery stood.

The young man had been anxiously searching through the
throng of maskers for the vailcd woman who had accosted
him so mysteriously, but his search had oeen fruitless.

No White Witch could he ﬁnd among the various groups

‘ of masqueraders.

Stoll approached Montgomery in a peculiar Way. He did

' not proceed directly to where the young man stood, but cir-

cled round him in the crowd as if reluctant to approach
him.

Montgomery, absorbed in his search for the strange mask,
did no; notice the approach of Stoll.

Montgomery was perplexed.

“ What the dance can it mean i” he muttered. “ It seems
more like a dream than a reality. Within one month or one
year, love, wealth, all will disappear—all vanish. My friends
will desert me. The woman that I love will forsake me.
No, no, I am a fool to give such weight to idle words.
Frances Chauncy is the woman that I love, and I’d stake my
life upOn her faith."

Unconsciously, Montgomery was uttering his thoughts
aloud. Hardly had he ﬁnished the sentence are a clear voice
whispered in his ear:

“ And lose it!" ‘

For a moment Montgomery was transﬁxed with astonish
ment. Then, with an eﬂort, recovering from his amazement
he turned suddenly.

The voice that spoke the words was familiar to him. It
was the voice of the White Witch.

But no white ﬁgure met Montgomery’s eyes as he turned.

A slender female form, dressed in the dark robes of
“ Night,” stood nearest to him.

“ She may have changed her domino,” muttered the young
man, to himself; “ I beg your pardon—did you speak to

me?” he asked, of the dark ﬁgure.

The lady answered not, but with a movement of alarm re-
treated from him and disappeared in the crowd.

“ Well, I've managed to frighten her," Montgomery mut«
.ered with a laugh. “ Evidently I got hold of the wrong
person. Deuced strange where the voice came from though.”

 
CHAPTER V
m own: or am: um am or mos.

Br the time Montgomery had ﬁnished his speech, Stoll,
who had been circling round him, like a great bird of prey
circles amund its quarry, ﬁnally made up his mind to accost
him.

“ Enjoying yourself, Mr. Montgomery?" he asked, in his
smoothest way.

“ Sir?" said Montgomery, turning in hauteur toward the
German. He had recognized the voice in an instant.

“ I asked if you were enjoying the masquerade,” said Stoll,
a little nettled at the tone used by the young man.

“ I do not see how my enjoyment or non-enjoyment con-
cerns you in any way,” replied Montgomery. haughtily.

Btoll hit his thick lip to repress the anger that he did not
dare to give utterance to. The words of Montgomery cut
him to the quick, but the German had little idea of what
was in store for him.

“ I believe that you wished to see me," said Stoll, servileiy.
Since he was not strong enough to ﬁght, he must bend.

“ Yes, I suppose you can guess why I wished to see you,
for of course you are well aware that I do not count you
among the gentlemen whom 1 term my friends!"

More gall and wormwood for Stoll.

“ I “PM I know,” he answered, slowly. .-

“Lost there should be any misunderstanding upon the
point, I will recapitulate the circumstances that led to this
interview.” ‘ ' '

Stoll bowed assent..but hit his tlnzlt lip until the blood
Idmaonod his 0le- 10110' tooth. ; But the and: hid his face.

“ By some means you became a member of my club, pro-
bany through the WHOM“! 01' tho-gentlemen who compose
lhlt club as to who and what you were; even in these day.,
when moneysbags are worshiped ‘8 Buds and half the world
bows to a golden idol, the” m '0'!!! Zthings in this world
that money can nos cover. In the OIUbvroom you met me;
you forced your waist! “Don M I Poesesssd a trotting
horse, reputed to no one of the fastest in New York. Th“
horse I kept for my 0" WWW: 39‘ ‘0? Mills purposes.

 
for I am neither a horse-jockey nor a ‘black-leg.’ You also
owned a trotter. One that you fancied was the equal of
mine. At least you said so, openly, and boasted that I did
not dare to speed my horse against yours. Your boasts
became the talk of the club. My friends became indignant
and urged me to break my resolution and match my
horse against yours. At last I consented to do so, pro-
vided you would put up ﬁve thousand dollars|against ﬁve
thousand of mine. The winner of the race to give one-half
of the stake to some charitable object. And so the match
was made. So far, so good. Now comes the sequel. You
did not dream that I would take up your challenge, but after
having made it, you could not retreat without losing caste.
You did not think your horse could beat mine, but resolved
to be certain. You went to my training stable on Long
Island. You bought my trainer to your interest. He
speeded the horse for you, and he beat the best time that
your animal had ever made by some thirty seconds. You
saw that in a square race you had no chance to save your
money. Then, in order not to lose the paltry ﬁve thousand
dollars that you had wagered, you offered my trainer a thou-
sand dollars to allow my horse to be ‘ doctorsd,’ or, in plainer
words, poisoned. The poor, weak fool, who thought more
of money than he did of his own conscience, agreed to poison
the horse for you two nights before the race; and as the
match was ‘ play or pay,’ you thought yourself safe to humble
me and save your own money. Thanks to an honest stable
boy your scheme was revealed to me. My dishonest trainer
was caught in the very act of poisoning the horse—that was
last night. I was telegraphed for at once. When I arrived
he confessed every thing. Now then, what shall I do? Shall
I publish it to the world that Mr. Herman Stoll has sunk
himself so low as to endeavor to commit a crime that will
forever lose him the company of decent men; and shall I.
proceed against him in due course of law, and attempt to
punish him for the outrage that he would have committed?”

Stoll's breath came thick and hard. Above all things'in ‘
life he valued the opinion of the world.

“No, no, I'll do any thing you say, if you’ll only hush
the matter up,” he gasped. _

“ Do you know why I feel inclined to ‘ hush the ’mattsr ,
up,’ as you term it?” asked Montgomery. ‘ 

“ N o, I do not,” answered Stoll, who knew Very well that
the reason could not concern him.

“ It is on account of the poor devil that your money se-
duced to betray the master who had always treated him like
a man. He has a wife and family and is a poor man. Your
money tumbled him down from honesty—as many a better '
man than he has tumbled before. Now, if I turned that man
adrift on the world with his character stained, what will be
his fate?”

“ He’ll go to the dogs, most likely,” answered Stoll,
coarsely.

“Exactly, and if that man does turn to evil ways, on
whose soul lies the guilt? Is he the guiitier one—a poor,
weak fool, tempted by your money—or you, the knave, that
tempted him to sin?” ‘

“ Knave!" cried Stoll, ﬁercely, in sullen wrath.

“ Yes, knavei” repeated Montgomery, sternly. “‘ Were I
not a gentleman—and could ﬁnd it in my heart to act the
part of a bruiser—I'd take you by the throat and dash you
down to the dust from which you sprung!"

Every muscle of Montgomery‘s powerful form swelled with
indignation as he spoke. ,

Stoll curbed his wrath as well as he was able. He knew
that he was no match for lithe, yet stalwart, Montgomery.

“Well, what do you want me to do, for I suppose you do
want me to do something; unless you wished this interview

solely for the purpose of bullying a man whose hands are
tied and who can't strike back," Stoll said, sullenly. "

“ You are the ﬁrst person in this world who has ever so-
cused Angus Montgomery of being a bully; and we'll let,
that 9885- As you have guessed, I do wish you to do some-
thing. The ruin of that man—whom I am about to cast out
to the mercy of the world, for I can not ﬁnd it in my heart ’
‘0 keep in my employ one who has betrayed me—hany
heavy upon my conscience. It is you who have ruined that -'
man. Ihave determined to make you give him means by
which for a time he can live. I don’t mean that he shall go ‘
t0 the devil, per express. I think that with a fair chance i
he’ll make an honest man again. You have led him into the V
mire of evil; it is but fair that you should pull him out
agaln."

" WW do you was as is d9?” [rewind atoll. is s my
unsmisble votes.

 
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.“Gige‘that'rnan ﬁve thousand dollars to start him again
in the-world. - With that sum he can go West, buy a farm,
and become a respectable member of society once more,"
answered. Montgomery.

“ Five thousand dollars!” exclaimed Stoli, in amazement.
“ Thath the sum, exactly, and in addition, you must retire
from the club that you have disgraced. Fulﬁll these condi-

5 tions, and I'll hold my tongue. Refuse, and to-morrow I’ll

haveyou published in every paper in the country for the
moundtgel that you are.”

.Stoll's wrath almost choked him, but, like the wolf in the
pitfall, he felt that he was impotent to ﬂy or ﬁght. Above
all things in life, be valued the position that he had managed
to; obtain in New York. He knew well that fully one-half
of his, associates, if not all, would turn their backs upon him
were hisdeeds to be made public. Even New York society
has some self-respect, though, from its action, one would not
be apt to think so.

“ Well, I accept, though the conditions are hard ones.
Perhaps, some time, Mr. Montgomery, you may get into debt.
All the ill-luck I wish you is, that your creditors may be as

hard as .you are in this case,” Stoli said, in ill~humor.
“ When I act like a scoundrel, I trust that I may be treated

like one,” Montgomery replied, with bitter emphasis. Stoli
winced at the words.

“ Send me your check for the money, and then you can
consider the affair settled,” Montgomery added.

“Verywell,” Stoli said, doggedly.

.“By the way, one word,” Montgomery exclaimed, as Stoli
was about to turn away. “ I suppose that it is hardly neces-
sary to mention that in the future, when we meet, I would
prefer that you should pass me by without noticing me. By
so doing, you will be spared the unpleasantness of being ‘ cut ’
by me, for I give my word that I shall never be able to see
you, large as you are.”

Then Montgomery passed away, and was soon lost amid
tbscrord of . .maskm .

Stoli ground his teeth in bitter rage.

I‘,‘ Curse him!” he cried. “ I’ll be even with him for this,
if it takes me all my life. That infernal O‘Connel spoke
truth. ,I'll join him to be revenged upon this proud Mont-
gomery. He’s waiting on the balcony. He said in fifteen
minutes. , He’s right almost to a second.”

With bitter thoughts and an angry face, Stoli took his way
toward the door leading to the moonlit balcony

 
,Mp Roche proceeded slowly along through the crowded
room, to the place where Frances Chauncey sat, watching
the dancers.

,“ Good-evening," said Tulip, approaching the blonde beauty.

“ Is that you, Tulip?” said Frances, languidly.

f‘Yes; are you tired r"

“ Of moving around r—yes.”

,“ Wasn’t that Mr. Montgomery with van a moment or two
ago, dressed as ‘ Hamlet r' ”

It Yea."

" Frances, do you know I do not think that you have
treated me right, lately!” Tulip said, leaning over the back
ofyher chair.

“ Indeed l—how ?"

f‘ I have heard strange reports regarding you and this Mont-
gomery—”

“ Well,,what have you heard?" interrupted Frances, a lit-
tle more life manifest in her manner.

“ That .you are engaged to him. "

For a moment Frances did not reply. She tapped her
pretty little foot uponthe ﬂoor, and bit her lower lip per.
verseiy. Then suddenly she raised her head, and spoke.

,3! Suppose that it is the truth?" she asked, hm deﬁantly.

“Is it the truth?" Tulip questioned, earnestly.

9 Well, 1—" and the beauty paused in evident confusion.

“It is true, then, and your words to me—-ymr vow...“
all forgotten!" Tulip cried, in deep agony.

5‘ Why, I didn’t know that you were in earnest. I thought
that it was only s‘fiirtation—I never did so before with any
one—we can always be friends—I—and—” Frances came
.6 an end in terrible confusion.

“ Oh, of course it was all s flirtation," Tulip said, bitterly;
“ I never meant one word of what I said, when I told you
that I loved you, and wished you for my wife—I only sent
it as a joke—and a very pleasant one it has been, too— —”
Tulip turned away; his voice became husky and, choked in
his throat.

Frances rose in confusion, and without even a farewell
word. left him. Tulip fairly trembled with rage.

.. >. 31““!

 
CHAPTER VI.
rma DROPS ornaoon.

For: a moment Tulip remained motionless, like one struck
by sudden stupor. Then at last he'found his tongue.

“ Cold, false-hearted woman 1” he cried, in anger. “ The
Irishman was right; I need his aid. I’ll be revenged upon
Montgomery, even if it costs me my own life. Let me see!
O’Connel said that I would ﬁnd him on the balcony. I’il
seek him at once."

Tulip then proceeded across the ball-room toward the door

that led to the balcony.
At the door he met Stoli.

“ Well?” questioned Tulip.

“ O’Connel was right,” Stoli said, moodlly.

“ Right in my case, also.” _

“ And are you going to accept the offer he made you!”

It Yes. It

' " So am I."

“ Let us ﬁnd him, then.”

The two passed through the door to the balcony. At the
lower end of the broad plaza, leaning on the railing and look-
ing seaward, they saw the man they sought, Lionel O’Connel.

“There he is," Stoli said.

“ Yes," Tulip answered, and then they hastened to him.

The two, absorbed in their search for the Irishman, did not
notice that a slender female form, clad in the sable robes of
“ Night,” had followed closely upon their heels. So close,
in fact, that she had overheard every word of their conversa-
tion.

The woman dressed as “ Night " followed them out upon
the balcony. Then, secure from observation—for the bai-
cony held only the three men, and their backs were turned
upon her—with a motion, quick as thought, she stripped the
sable domino from her form, then tore the black vail from
her face, and the White Witch stood revealed! ,

“ I hold the game in my hands,” she murmured, evidently
under the inﬂuence of strong excitement. “ Now, if I can
but get Montgomery to believe my word, or if not that, to .16
lieve the evidence of his own senses, he may avoid the dun.
get that is before him." - . . 4;.

She watched Tulip and Stoli join O’Connel, retiring to the
helter of the doorway as she watched, so as to be sewn
from the observation of the three, should they chance to look
in her direction.

“ There is a window‘ nest- them,” she' murmured. “By
placing Montgomery at that window, he can see, if not hear.
The window is not in the ball-room, but in the apartment
adjoining. Now to ﬁnd Montgomery, and, if possible, put
him upon his guard.”

Concealing the sable dress and vail beneath her own white
robes, the mysterious woman returned to the ball-room.

She was not long in discovering Montgomery.

The young man was promenading up and down with the
blonde beauty, Frances Chauncy, on his arm.

“ Again with that girl!" exclaimed the White Witch, in
anger; “ the false heart who has already forsaken Tulip
Roche for him, and will in turn forsake him for some other.
Why should I not let these conspirators go on and strip him
of his wealth? The loss of it will save him from the fatal
love of this fair-haired siren. She loves but his gold, his
position, and not the man. 0h,,I blush sometimes for my
sex; barely one true heart among a thousand false ones. . But
I will save him! save him from this woman, whose false love
will drive him some day to despair; save him from Tulip
Roche, the treacherous friend, and from Herman Stoli, the
open enemy; save him from his evil genius, Lionel O’Connel,
the chief of this secret League of Three, and who is more to
be feared than all the rest combined. He is both lion and
snake; as brave and strong as the ﬁrst, as cold and bloodless
as the second. If Montgomery will only believe my words,
I will give him a shield against which they shah break thei
lancee of malice in vain.”

Then, the White Witch proceeded across the ballet-00m
stand by Montgomery And Frances, who hung 'so lovingly
upon his arm. and. u like passed, the touched the young
man.

Montgomery turned at the light touch, and «w in an in-
stant who it was that had passed him.

He halfoturned as if to follow her on the moment, but he
"membeMd lb“ he had a lady on his arm and‘ paused.

“ Will you excuse me for a few minutes? Some one has
1"“ PM. With Whom I wish to speak,” he said.
“J’o’mmlyt but don't be long, Angus," Frances said, lav

 
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“I will return in an instant. Shall I conduct you to a
seat?”

“ No, I am tired of sitting down, I will promenade until
you return,” she replied.

With a low bow, Montgomery retired from her side and
iollowed the White Witch, who was walking, slowly, through
the throng of maskers.

Montgomery soon came up with her.

“ I have been looking for you.”

“ I know that,“ she replied.

“ And you have avoided my seath

" Yes."

“ Why?"

“ Because a witch must be mysterious in her actions; she
must not be found, easily, like common mortals.”

“I have been thinking over your w r'ds, and I confess I
can not understand how it is that you seem to know me so
well, for I am sure that you are a stranger to me.”

“ You are right; I am,” she said.

“ How, then, can you know aught of me?"

“ Did I not tell you that I am the WI!!! Wm?" she
asked. -

“ Enough of such jestingl” he exclaimed, impatiently.
“What is the meaning of all this? Is it a masquerading

oke?"
j “ You will find that it is no jest, but sober reality,” re-
turned the White Witch, solemnly.

By this time, the two had reached a small ante-room lead-
ing from the ball-room.

The apartment was unoccupied.

“ Here, then, we can speak freely,” said the strange wo-
man, glancing, searchingly, around her.

“ I confess that you have strangely excited my curiosity,”
said Montgomery. “ You have predicted strange and won-
derful things; assailed the woman whom I love and the man
whose friendship I cherish.”

“ And yet I have spoken but the truth, as you will find in
time.”

“ The woman that I love will forsake me!”

u Yes.”

“ My friend will betray me?”

“ Yes, again."

“ All this is very mysterioua"

“ And very true.”

“ Perhaps so.”

“ You will ﬁnd that it is so.’

“ You have something else to tell nae?"

“ What makes you think so?”

“You touched my arm just now in passing. That was
clearly a sign that you wished to speak with me, and I take
it that you are too sensible a ‘ witch ’ to wish to repeat what
you have already told me,” said Montgomery, gallantly.

“ You are right. I have something else to tell you."

“ I was certain of it.”

“ Something to show you, perhaps."

“ Feast my eyes as well as my ears, eh!" Montgomery said,
with a laugh.

ll Yes."

“ Well. I am ready."

“ You remember my former words!"

“ Within one month or one year—yea,” the young man
replied.

“I predicted the loss of all that you held dear in this
world.”

“ You did.”

“But I did not tell you in what way that terrible loss
would come upon you.”

“ Probably the reason for that is, that you do not know,"
Montgomery said, a slight touch of sarcasm in his tone.

“ You are wrong, I do know," replied the mysterious wo-
man, quickly. ..

“Elucidate—don’t keep meta suspme," laughth
the young men.

“ One word does that."

“And that word?”

“ Woman 1"

“0h, thenit isawoman who hto bringall these evils
upon me?"

as Yes."

“ And yet I do not remember a ling]. you...” an. world
who has cause to look upon me in the light of an enemy,"
said Montgomery, seriously.

" "hewoman who will bring you teruin is not your away;
‘3 la your friend.”

 
For a moment, Montgomery was silent. He was penile-med.

“ All this seems like a joke, but the jest is getting to be
quite a serious one," he said, at length.

“ For your sake, would to heaven that it were a jest!" ex-
claimed the masked woman, earnestly. “But, in time to
come, you will ﬁnd that I have only spoken the truth. This
woman, who is fated to lead you to your ruin, loves you bet-

ter than she does her own life—better than she does her own -
soul—for she would risk that soul to save you from your ‘
danger; from that danger into which her own hand must ‘

lead you.” -

“ If she loves me, why should she lead me into danger?"
asked Montgomery, who had listened to the strange words of
the White Witch in utter astonishment.

“ Because she is under the inﬂuence of a will, more power-
ful than her own. She is your slave by love; she is the slave
to another, bound unto him by a stronger passion, even, than
her love for you. She must do his bidding and draw you,
siren-like, to the path, wherein are dug the pitfalls to insnare
you. She is the creature of the chief of the League‘ of
Three.”

“ The League of Three?" exclaimed Montgomery, in aston-
ishment. “ Why, all this seems like a leaf torn out of some
old romance of ancient times. The days of leagues and secret
brotherhoods have died away."

“ They have revived one for your especial beneﬁt,” replied
the Witch. “ Three men have bound themselves together to
humble you, and their chief instrument will be the woman
who loves you so well. One alone, in all this world, can save
you!"

“ And who is that person?”

“ She stands before you, the White Witch. When danger
comes thick around your path, I will be near to guard yon.
I may not be able to defeat your enemies, but, with the aid
of Heaven, I will try.” '

“ This seems like a dream," Montgomery said, in wonder.

“ Behold the reality!" cried the Witch, suddenly, and she
drew aside the curtains of the window by which they stood.

The window looked out upon the balcony.

Montgomery’s eyes beheld a strange scene.

Three men were in the moonlight.

One knelt in the center, clad as a white clown; over him
stood a gray monk and a gay courtier. 0n the balcony. be-
fore the kneeling man in white, was an open sheet of paper.
Over the paper the clown held his wrist. 0n the wrist'was
a slight puncture, from which a drop of blood was slowly well-
ing. .v

A small penknife, its blade open, glittered in the hand 01
the clown.

“ Come, gentlemen, the seals—three drops of blood i" cried
.he man in white.

The fresh ocean breeze brought the words to the listening
ears of awe-struck Montgomery.

He started.

In the voice of the man in white. he recognized the elm!
tones of the young Irishman, Lionel O’Connea

 
CHAPTER VII.
m men: or man.

MONTGOMERY could not understand the meaning of the
strange scene that met his eyes as he looked through thawin-
dow upon the balcony.

A moment he gazed in speechless astonishment, and then
turned to question his companion; but, to his amazement,
he found that he was alone. The White Witch was gone.

“ This is like a dream!" Montgomery cried, perplexed;
“ but, if she is in the ball-room, I’ll find her.”

Then he instantly proceeded on his quest.

Vainly be searched amid the group of masters. No
White Witch could he find.

Tulip and Stoll found O’Connell on the balcony.

The young Irishman was leaning against the railing, ap-
parently in deep thought.

O‘Connel raised his head as the two approached. ’ He had
removed the clownish mask, with its huge nose, from his
face, and the moonbeams lighted up his pale and clearly-cut
features.

In face. the young Irishman was singularly handsome.
The keen, blue eye, the ﬁrm-set, resolute m0uth told of a
determined will. Over his forehead clusttered little, crisp]

 
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10 Hunted Down; or,
curls, a rich gold in hue, and a long, drooping mustache, of
the same tint as the hair, hid his"full, sensual lips.

As Stall and Tulip approached, they also removed their
leaks from their faces.

The face of Tulip was as pale as death, except where a
hectic ﬁush burned in either cheek; while Stoll’s coarse fea-

’ tures were crimsoned with anger.

There was a lurking devil in O’Connel’s eye as he watched
the approach of the two.

“ Well!” he said, quietly, as the two came up to him.

“You‘re a true prophet,” replied Stoll, in a sulky way.

“And my words in regard to the fair Frances?” O'Connel
asked Tulip.

“ True, every one,” replied the “ blood,” with an angry
gesture.

“ And now you seek my aid?”

" Yes,” replied Stoll, quickly, and Tulip bowed his head
in the aﬁirmative.

“ Good, and now let us have a clear understanding.”

“ The sooner the better,” said Stoll.

“ We three hate this one man?”

“ Yea,” replied Tulip and Stoll, in a breath.

“And our purpose is to pull him down—to ruin him if
we cant":

“ Yes,” again they replied.

" And therefore we form a League of Three. Mont-
gomery is: to be ruined. And to effect our object we will
use any and all mean, he the means fair or foul.”

“ Exactly," Btoll said.

“Montgomery is rich, honored, and beloved. We must
stml his riches from him, tarnish his good name, and deprive
hint of the woman of his heart.”

“ That‘s the programme,” said Stoll, coarsely.

Tulip said nothing, but his eyes signiﬁed his assent.

“ And as to the victors belong the spoils, we must arrange
afair divisim of what is to come to us from the ruin of
this Insane, First comes Frances Chauncy; for the posses-
sion-afmheeutiful woman—to the man that loves her——out-
weighs all else in this world. You, Tulip, shall have Mont-
gomery’s promised bride. Then comes money; that shall

r be equally divided between Herman, here, and myself. Is

the division satisfactory, gentlemen l”

“ Perfectly,” said Tulip.

" Quite square,” responded Stoll.

“ New for the sinews of war—money. I think that it is
but fair that you two should furnish that, since I have fun
nished the idea.”

“ Yes, that’s only fair,” said Btoll, after a moment’s
thought. .

“ How much do you require?” Tulip asked.

“ Bay six thousand dollars; that will do for the present.
We must have tools, gentlemen, and human instruments,
such as we shall have to use, will cost money. The task
we have undertaken will be no child's play,” O’Connel said,

" The sum is.» little enough. I, myself, would rather give
six thousand than have Frances Chauncy become the wife
of Angus Montgomery l" Tulip exclaimed, earnestly.

“And you still want this girl who has proved false to
your” O’Connel asked.

“ Yes; I do not blame her, but him. She is young, does
not know her own mind, and he, in some way, has dazzled
helium.” Tulip replied. ‘

“ Then it is perfectly understood; the girl to yoh, the
money to us!”

Both nodded assent.

“ Then we may consider ourselves a League of Three,
each pledged to aid the other to the utmost extent of his
power—even to the risk of life—in this, our enterprise,"
O'Connel said.

“ But, shall we go as far as to think of attempting the
life of this man!” Stoll asked, with a dark look upon his
coarse features.

“ No," replied O’Connel, quickly. “ We will not strike
at his life. We will strip him of all else, but his life shall
he sacred from our hands. ”

“ it is better so,” said Tulip.

‘ Wall, just as you please," Stoll observed, carelessly.

"The money will be ready to-morrow?” O'Connel asked.

" 0' course,” Tulip replied, and Stoll nodded assent.
"' 'f‘hen to-morrow the League will commence operations."

" What are you going to do ﬁrst?” asked Stoll.

“ That reguiree consideration,” replied O'Connel. Will! I
light laugh. “ It is no easy matter to ruin a man with a

The League of‘Thr‘ee.

 
hundred thousand dollars, and above all, such a man as
Angus Montgomery—9. cool, clear-headed fellow, who is noi-
ther a ‘ ﬂat ’ nor a fool. If he were a fast young man now,
our task would be easy enough. We could lure him on to
play and by the blackleg’s aid ﬂeece him of his money. ’

“ He doesn’t indulge in such pleasures," said Tulip.

“And therefore our task is a diﬁicult one. It is easy to
say, ‘ we three hate this man and we will ruin him.’ but to
accomplish that ruin is quite another thing."

“ Very true,” Stoll said, thoughtfully.

“ Now, in the ﬁrst place, what is Montgomery really
worth?" asked O’Connel.

“ Somewhere about a hundred thousand; his wealth is
greatly exaggerated,” replied Tulip.

" That is not uncommon. What does his wealth consist
of,”

“ A house on the avenue—”

“ Worth how much?” interrupted O’Connel.

“ About thirty thousand.”

“ And the lot itself?”

“ From twelve to ﬁfteen thousand.”

“ Then, if the house sh0uld burn down, he would be out
about ﬁfteen thousand.”

“ No,” replied Tulip, “it is nearly all covered by insur-
ance.”

“ Possibly there is a way to get over that,” O'Connel said
thoughtfully. “ And the rest of his property?”

“ Invested in government bonds, railroad stock, etc.”

“ Our scheme will require some head-work, but in the end
we will triumph. I shall go to New York by the ﬁrst train
to-morrow. There I will secure my principal instrument."

“ Some smart, keen-witted man that you know, oh?”
Btoll asked.

“ No, quite the contrary,” said O’Connel, smiling; “my
instrument is a young and pretty woman."

“ A woman l” his companions exclaimed, in astonishment.

‘.‘ Exactly."

“ What part will she play in our scheme?" asked Stoll,
amazed. "

“That of the false beacon-light, which, in the darkness
of the night, lures the tempest-tossed mariner to the reefs,
whereon his vessel is wrecked," replied the Irishman,
quickly. -

“ Oh, I see; this woman is to fascinate Montgomery,”
said Tulip.

“I fear that it will be a difﬁcult task,” Stall observed,
thoughtfully. “ If- xenon speaks true, Montgomery is in
love with Frances Chauncy.”

‘.‘ That may be true, but that love will not save him from
the snare that my instrument will weave around his soul.
The woman, whose will I control, is more beautiful than
this New York. belle, for she has all the ﬁre and passion
that Frances Chauncy lacks, and has fully as pretty a face.
Trust me, her arts will win him, despite his love for the
other girl.”

“ Who is thiswornani” asked Stoll.

“ That is' my secret," replied O’Connel with one of his
peculiar, bafﬂing smiles.

“ I get the ideal" cried Stoll, suddenly. “ You intend to
use this money that werhave contributed to buy the services
of this woman."

“No, there you are wrong. There isn't money enough
in all New York to buy this woman’s will. If there was—-
if she could be bought by money—she would be useless for
our purpose,” said O'Connel, gravely.

“Why then is she willing to serve you!” asked Btoll,
bluntly.

“ That is my secret, too,” replied O'Connel. “ Sumac It,
that she will do as I say. The money I shall use for the
details of my plan, not to pay her for her services.”

“ And you have no doubt of success!" asked Tulip.

“ Not the slightest,” replied O'Connel, conﬁdently; ” with-
in a year at most, 'Angus Montgomery will be is ruined man.”

“ Good!” exclaimed Stoll, rubbing his hands together in
glee, while a dark smile came over Tuiip's delicate features.

“ The League then is formed. Mind, we are sworn to
aid one number in 9w purpose. even to death, for all three
of us may have to stain our hands in crime to acwmplleh
our object," said O’Connel, with a serious face.

“ I fully understand that for one,” said Stall, ﬁrmly.

“ And so do I," added Tulip.

" Gentlemen, I foresaw that we should agree in this am.
ter and so I drew out a memorandum—e special partnerahi'

 
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between us three.” 'i‘nen O’Connel drew a folded paper
from his pocket. He opened it and read aloud:

“We three do herebyumu in a solemn Lsagmagasinstour
sommmsnwmy. We Iwrebyagrss,saohtoatdthe other in the
attackswbemadeuptmhs'm Andweswea/r, thatwt'tltowroms
Ila/rule. wem'll/ciaanyomqfﬂts'sLeaguewhoshallpr-oufalssto
thewmpact. Wessalthaoaﬂtsoiﬂtour blood.”

Stoll and Tulip looked at each other.

“Are we to sign this?" asked Stoll, slowly.

“With your written signatures, no; that would be dan-
gerous should the paper happen to be lost," replied O'Con-
nel; “ our signatures to this paper and our seals will be
three drops of blood; one drop from each. That binds us
to the compact. We spill our Need to seal it, and we’ll
spill the blood of the one breaks it. Is this satisfactory?”

“ Yes,” said Stoll.

“ Perfectly,” Tulip added.

Then O’Connel dropped on his knee and spread the paper
out before him. He drew a little penknife from his pocket
and with the point of the blade, made a slight puncture in
his wrist.

A single drop of blood walled slowly from the slight
scratch.

“ Come, gentlemen, the seals!" he cried; “ three drops of
blood i”

Then with the point of the knife he stained the paper with
the blood. '

Stoll and Tulip followed his example.

Then the paper, thus strangely signed and sealed, was con-
veyeri to O‘Connel’s pocket again.

“ This oath that we have sworn sounds like a romance,”
O'Connel said, “but before a month is over, Angus Mont-
gomery will ﬁnd that it is bitter reality.’

Then they returned to the ball-room.

The League of Three was formed.

 
CHAPTER VIII.
run mmumr.

Tm: ﬁrst train out of Newport, on the morning following
the night wherein the events related in our last chapter took
place, among its passengers, can-led Tulip Roche, Herman
Stoll and Lionel O’Connel.

They were on route for New York.

The League of Three was preparing to strike its first blow
at Angus Montgomery. '

On the journey, Tulip and Stoll noticed that their compan-
ion was strangely silent. But by the earnest look upon his
handsome face, they guessed that his brain was busy in devis-
ing how to bring their common enemy to grief.

As the three arrived in New York and alightcd from the
car, a newsboy by the depot was crying his “ Extras.”

“ ’Ere’s the hextra Winn account of the mysteri-
ous disappearance of E’ward Catlin, the Wall street banker!"

As the cry of the boy reached Tnlip’s ears, he grasped
O’Connel by the arm, and an expression of joy ﬂushed his
pals features.

“ Do you hear that?” he cried.

“ What?” asked O‘Connel, in astonishment.

“ What the boy is crying,” answered Tulip, quickly.
“ Here, boy, give me a paper!”

The boy received his money, handed over the sheet slu‘

:departed to cry his papers elsewhere

Tulip’s eyes searched the news column eagerly.

“ Here it is!" Then he read aloud to his listening com-
panlons. » - ‘

“Sudden and mysterious dt'eappmunesof thereon-known Wall
street banker. Mr. Edward Coats. This gentleman km'not been
seen rims he left his allies in Wad s0er yesterdayqﬂemwnlw
ﬁyuro’dock. Ithasbsenwlukporsd oaths ‘M'form‘ﬁme
01atMr.0atlz'n was in W, paeum‘tm‘ly, MW been one
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“ This is glorious newsl" cried Tulip, in joy, after he had
finished the brief notice relative to the disappearance of the
banker. ' ' '

 
“I don’t understand," said O’Connel.

“ Nor I!" Stoll chimed in.

“ Why, fate itself is on our side and strikes the ﬁrst blow
at our foe.”

“ Explain.”

“ This man who has ﬂed, leaving his creditors in the lurch,
is the banker of Angus Montgomery i" cried Tulip, in trio .
umph. 
His two companions now understood the reason of his joy, .
and their faces, too, brightened up.

“ You think then that Montgomery will be a suﬂerer by

i the ﬂight of the banker?” O‘Connel asked.

“ I know that he will,” Tulip replied, quickly. “ Only a
week ago I came to the city with him, and he placed twenty
thousand dollars in this Catlin’s hands."

“ Then the probabilities are that Mr. Angus Montgomery
is just that twenty thousand dollars poorer by this little mie-
chance,” Stoll said, in coarse glee.

“ Yes,” Tulip replied.

“ So much the better," said O’Connel, cheerfully, “it
lightens our work, that is if they don’t happen to catch the
banker and make him disgorge."

“ Not much chance of that, the man is probably safe 0!
by this time,” Tulip observed.

“ I wonder if the police are on his track," said Stoll.

Tulip glanced at the newspaper.

“ Yes; it says that the detectives are on the look-Out for
him. ”

“ And extremely unlikely to catch him,” remarked O’Con-
nel, contemptuously. “ It is only the common rufiian that
they secure. The man with brains escapes them nine times
out of ten."

“ Montgomery will arrive in town to-morrow. Will you
fix upon a plan of action to-nightf” Tulip asked of O'Con-
nel.

“ Yes,” he answered. “ I’ll meet you at the Fifth Avenue
Hotel tomorrow at ten in the morning. I shall proceed to
the house of the lady, who is to play the role of Delilah and
shear this modern Sampson of his locks of strength, at
once.”

“ There is no doubt about securing her?”

“ None at all,” O’Connel answered, conﬁdently. “ She
will do my bidding, I am sure of it. Once the eyes of Mont-
gomery fall upon her face, good-by to his love for ﬁancee
Chauncy."

" In the morning at ten?”

‘(  H

And so the three parted. The triple League. Three men,
so unlike each other in every respect, yet bound together by
the hatred that they had in common for Angus Montgomery.
Links of steel were as chains to the strength of that bond.

Tulip and Stoil went up the avenue, while O’Connel passed
through Twenty-seventh street to Broadway.

As O’Connel turned into the busy thoroughfare, be came
face to face with a little, dapper fellow, with a round, bullet-
like head, who was slowly coming up Broadway, sucking a
quill toothpick between his teeth in a manner indicativu of
profound enjoyment.

O'Conn‘el, proceeding rapidly along, turned the corner
sharply, and nearly run over the man with‘ the quill tooth-
pick. '

With a careless “ I beg pardon,” the young man turned to
one side and passed on down the street. ' ‘ ', ‘ _

The man with the quill toothpick, stoOd’ like one turned
into stone, and gazed after O'Connel with a face full of won-
der. The toothpick dropped from his mouth'and lay un-
heeded upon the pavement. -.

“ Well, jigger my buttons!" said the man, with a low
whistle of astonishment. “ It is—and then ag’in, it may not
be. If it is—will I, or won‘t I? Who knows? Now,
that’s phelosophy, that is. In the ﬁrst place, I must keep
one eye on him.” '

Then the man missed his toothpick, and discovered it on
the sidewalk. '

“ Now, meeting this ’ere nobby chap has cost me a bran»
new toothpick; suppose that the same little incident costs
him his life? That's a riddle. I give it up."

Then the man drew another quill toothpick fr0m his vest.
pocket, placed it between his teeth, and followed in chase of
O'Connel.

The young man had not given the stranger a second
thought, but hastened onward, his mind busy with the meet-
ing that was before him. He had no suspicion that his steps
were watched so cloudy.

 
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O’Connei went down Broadway to Tenth street; went down
Tenth street a few blocks, then asdended the steps of a three-
story brick dwelling, rung the bell, and shortly after was ad-
mitted info the house.

The man with the toothpick had followed him carefully on
the other side of the street. When the young man entered

' the house, the watcher closed one eye and gazed with a know-
lng look at the dwelling.

“ Ten to one that he don’t live there! Ten to one that
he’ll come out! Ten to one that it’s the bird, although t’other
bird had black hair, and this ’un the color of a cornstalk.
Maybe he’s dyed it. Why not? Don't the blonde hactresses
who make a living by displaying their legs—’cos they hain‘t
got any brains—don’t they dye? Of course! Why shouldn’t
be! Raytherl De-lightfui prospect this is, round here.
Guess I’ll wait for a few hours, days, or so. Pipgan, old
boy, I shakes hands with you 1" And then the odd geniUs
shook hands with himself violently. “ Now, I’ll just wait,
and while I wait, I’ll keep my eyes open; as a Pacific sloper
would say, you bet!”

The man with the quill toothpick selected a doorstep a lit-
tie way up the street, sat down on it, and commenced hum-

ming a song to himself. What the words of the verses were
wasn't very clear, but the I horns came out strong:
“Tl-qu4 li-n ral, ll-ai"

We will follow O’Coml.

He has entered one of the back chambers of the three-story
brick, and a young girl has risen to receive him.

The room is furnished plainly, and amid its somber hue
the beauty of the girl swipes like a rich jewel in a ieaden set-
ting.

The girl looked some twenty years of age. In ﬁgure she
was about the medium ﬁght, and as straight as the pine-tree,
yet all the supple grace of the swaying willow was in every
motion. Her face was a classical one—pure Greek; the low
forehead; the rounded chin; the straight nose; the dainty
lipaﬂ’ed as the carnation ﬂower, and perfect in their sweet
outline; the little peartlike teeth that the red lips guarded;
the lustrous black eyes. that could ﬂash with all the ﬁres of
passion’s rage or me)! with all the softness of love’s tender-

“ nose; the transparent skin, white as alabaster; the long, silken
hair, black as the ravsu’s wing, and coiled in shining braids
around the shapely, ’eil-poised head—all was perfection it-
self.

The face of the girl was one not seen once in a thousand
years. A face that a painter might see in a vision, when he
dreamed of angels’ fovns.

She was dressed plainly in dark-crimson stuff. A little
white linen collar and euﬂs of the same material were the only
adornments she wore

As O‘Connel looked. at her, he could not help confessing
to himself that he bod never seen a more lovely girl.

She was called Leone Basque; by profession a music-
teacher.

O'Consei was apprently her only friend, for he alone vis~
ited her, and the gossip of the boarding-house—for such was
the character of the house that O’Connei had entered——
whispered that the young man was probably a lover of Miss
(aone's, and in due time would become her husband.

“ Well?” the gill asked, in icy tones, rising as her visitor
entered tbs room.

“ Why, Leona, your tone is as cold as the wind on a win-
ter’s mowing,” sud O’Connel, carelessly throwing himself into
a chair.

“ Is it!’ replied the girl, resuming her seat.

“ Yes: out, bless you, I don’t mind it in the least. Leone,
there is a great deal of the angel about you, and a great deal
of the old gen'iaman down below, when you let your temper
get the best of you.”

“ You law no cause to say that!” cried 'the girl, quickly.
“ I have (has more for you than one-half the women in this
world would do.”

“ Yes, I knew that,” O'Connel replied, languidly.
once in a while you give me a terrible talking to.”

" When you bind any one’s hands, what can they use but

“ But

' the tongue?” asked the girl, bitterly.

“That’s very true. I suppose, then, that you mean that
I have bound your hands, ﬁguratively speaking."

“ Yes, with an iron chain," returned the girl. sadly.

“ Well, I am glad that you fully understand that fact.
That knowledge on your part will save me considerable
trouble," said O’Connel, coolly.

” i do not understand what you mean. ” The girl spoke
slowly, and her face showed plainly that she Was puzzled.

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. ___._—_—_.__—__

" Oh, I’m going to explain my meaning fully," said O’Con
nel, quickly. “ In the first place, I want something. By
the way, to want something is not an unusual occurrence
with me," and he laughed as he spoke.

“Is it moneyr—because I have none.” The girl spoke
sharply, and a slight touch of anger was plainly perceptible
in her voice.

“Your guess does credit to your understanding. As a
general thing, I am sorry to say that I am usually in want of
money; but this time it is something else. How would you
like to be a countess?” he asked, suddenly.

The girl looked at the speaker in wonder.

 
C H A P T E R X I .
m mmsnrarm non namn men.

Axons MONTGOMERY arrived in New York some four
hours after O’Connel and his companions. He had received
a telegram regarding the ﬂight of the banker, and had has-
tened to New York at once.

On arriving in the city, he proceeded instantly to the Gen-
tral Police Station, anxious to discover if any news had been
received of the whereabouts of the abscondmg Catlin.

The detectives could not furnish him with any informa-
tion.

All avenues leading from the city had been carefully
watched, but, as yet, withdut avail.

“ Bless you! he's probably on board of an ocean steamer
'fore this time,” said the detective in charge of the ofﬁce,
“ or else he’s made'tracks west for California. You see, he
had a good. twelve or eighteen hours’ start, and was proba-
bly safe out of the city long before the case was put into our
hands. ” ‘

“ Then there isn’t much hope of capturing him?” Mont-
gomery said. ‘

“ No, not much chance to put salt on the tail of such an
old bird as he is. zlrle’s~ pmbably been preparing for this
little trip for some time,” was the detective’s answer.

“ If any news does come, I wish you would notify me;
here’s my address,” Angus said.

“Certainly,” the detective replied, as he took the card
whereou Montgomery had peneiled his street and number.

Then the young man left the ofﬁce, about as wise as when
he entered it.

On the sidewalk outside he met another of the detectives,
who was well known to him.

“ Hello! why, Mr. Montgomery, what‘are you doing here?
nothing wrong, I hope," said the detective.

“No, nothing very particular, Mr. Keiso,” Montgomery
replied. “ I came down to inquire if any news of this ab.
acceding banker, Catlin, has been received.”

“ Oh, you are concerned, in that affair?”

“ Well, yes; about twenty thousand dollars‘ worth. 1
only banked the money with him a week or so ago. I sold
out some stock and was looking around for another invest
ment,” Montgomery remarked, with a dry smile.

“ Twenty thousand!" exclaimed the jolly officer, with a
prolonged whistle; “ well, I should say that you were a leetle
concerned in the affair. Any news of him, inside?”

“ None at all. The ofﬁcer in charge says it is probable
that he is safe out of New York by this time."

“I hardly think so,” said the oﬂicer, slowly. “ I think
i; is more probable that he is concealed in the city some-
wheres, waiting for this row to blow over, and then he‘ll
‘ light out,’ as they say West.”

“ Do you really think so?"

“ Yes, I do,” said the omcer, Mdedly.

“ Then there is a chance, that he may fall into an m
of the detectives?" Montgomery asked, eager-1,,

“ Of course."

“ Then I won’t utterly despair.”

“ No, while there's life, there’s hope, you know."

Montgomery bid the detective “ goodmigm," ma wand
slowly down the street.

He did not notice that a man, who had stood in the
shadow of the houses while he was conversing with the
oﬂicer, and was 00 near that he could overhear every word
of the conversation, was following in his footsteps.

As Montgomery turned the corner of Bieecker street, the
man hastened his steps and overtook him.

“ Mr. Montgomery!” he said, in a hoarse voice, and with”

a cautious accent.

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“ Eli?” and Montgomery turned sharply around and faced
the man who had followed him.

He saw a roughly-clad little fellow, with a hang-dog look.

“ I aXes your parding for a speakin‘ to you. I thinks
that maybe that wot I’ve got for to say, you’d like for to
hear,” said the fellow, in a servile way.

Montgomery felt a shudder of disgust creep over him as
he looked into the evil eyes of the fellow who had addressed
him.

“ Well, sir, what is it?” Angus asked.

“If Idon't make no mistake you wants to know where
a certain cove, whose name ain’t Jones, and whose name is
Mr. Edward Catlin, is to be found?” said the fellow with a
cunning leer.

“ Do you know where this man is?” asked Montgomery,
quickly.

“ Well, I don’t tell all I knows for nothink," said the man,
with a grin.

With difﬁculty, Montgomery repressed the loathing that
the man caused him. He thought, p0ssibly, that he could
gain some information from the fellow.

“ If you do know any thing regarding the whereabouts
of this man, by making it known to one of the ofﬁcers in
the station yonder, they will, beyond a doubt, pay you well
for it.”

“ Yes, I knows wot their pay is—more kicks than half-
, pence,“ said the man, with an injured air. “ If I was for
* A to go and tell ’em wot I knows, then they’d jist collar this
, cove, pocket the reward and leave me to whistle for my
, trouble, bless ’eml" The fellow didn’t exactly say “bless
‘ ’em,” but a due regard for our readers compels us to sup.
l

press his real exclamation.

“ Well, to what use do you intend to put the information
that you have?” asked Montgomery.

“ I’ll tell ’er in the wag of a sheen’s tail,” said the man,
with a grin. “ You see I kin put my two ﬁngers right onto
this man inside of half an hour. "

" You can i" asked Montgomery.

“ Cert’," said the fellow, tersely; “in course, I kinl I

a know where he’s a-hidin’, a-waitin‘ for a chance to ‘ hook
it,’ when the perlioe ain’t a-lookin’ for him. You kin b'leove
wot I say, ’cos my pals allers calls me honest Tom, ‘ the
Mouse ’——”

“The Mouse!" said Montgomery, astonished at the nick-
name. ,

“ In course; ‘cos I'm so quiet, and sly, and so harmless,
you know. Now jist by accident I see'd this, Mr. Catlin
a-hidin’ in a certain place—which at prt'sent I’ll keep unbe-
knowu—an’ I says to myself, says 1, Tom, here’s a chance
for to turn an honest penny,—’cos I wouldn‘t do nothink
that wasn't strictly co-rect for any think. I says to myself,
says I, jist you find one of those swells up town who has a
witai interest in this here absconding cove, tell what you
know, an’ may be, if he’s a gent—like yourself maybe—
beggin’ your honor’s parding for makin’ so free with you—
why he’ll come down handsome for the ‘ tip.’ "

u Tip?»

“ Yes, the news, you know; that’s wot we say across the
water when we knows that one horse is bound for to win an'
another for to lose. ”

Montgomery thought for a moment.

“ You can take me to this man, Catlin?"

“ You kin take your ’davy on it," replied “ The Mouse.”

“ Can I take an officer with me?”

“ Wot’s the use of that now, I axes you?" said the fellow,
w“ in an aggrieved way. “ It ain’t the cheese, you know, for
1 v" to bring the banks down onto a feller wot’s in difficulties.
; But now this is the wayI puts it—-—beggin‘ your honor’s
parding, for being so familiar to give advice to a nob, like
your honor is. But this t’other cove he’s out his stick with
| tidy Pile 0‘ your honor’s moaey. Now I, like a good ’un
“'35 “‘1 P813 say I is—-I brings this nob—meanin‘ you—to
t'other, wot’s keepin‘ shady. Why then, in course, you kin
settle the rumpus an’ no one the wiser; and you can give
' The Mouse ’ somethink handsome for his honesty, you
know."

“ Let me put my hands on him once and I’ll make

him refund my money or strangle himt" said Montgomery,
ﬁercely.
z  “ In course you will!" cried “ The Mouse," softly, and in
a tone of intense admiration. "I knew it; the minlt I set
eyes on yer, I said to myself, says I, ’st‘s’s the nob wot kin
put his hands up along with Jun Mass or any one of them
sons; blessed it i didn’t!” sad “The new" annealed
sent, to himself.

 
j

“ What do you ask for this service?"

“I don’t ax nothink; I ain’t the cove to say to the nob,
like yourself, wot’ll you give me. Not I knows oetter no:
that. I leaves it to yer gener’us feelin’s, for I knows well
’nough that a reg’lar out an' outer—like your honor—is a-
goin' to do the tidy think with the cove wot helps him, you
know. Now if you let these de-tectives—bless their eyest
—into the job, why the cake’s all dough and we shan’t get
a smell. They’ll gobble up all the swag. Now I’ll take ‘
your honor down to where this cove is a-hidin’, an’ you kia
settle the think atween yourselves, just like a couple of noba
ought for to do.”

“ Very well, I’ll go with you," said Montgomery, de-
cidedly. He had little fear of danger. In the full posses-
sion of health, and blessed with a strength that few men
are gifted with, he was reckless of personal peril. Besides
he had faith that the fellow had spoken the truth and could
conduct him to the retreat of the man who had ﬂed with his
money. And once face to face with the banker, he had lit-
tle doubt about being able to compel him to disgorge some
of his ill-gotten gains.

“ You see, your honor, I’ve a-been a-waitin’ around the
station for to see some nob as had an interest in this cove
wot is a-keepin’ shady, an‘ when I heerd you a-talkin’ with
the detective, I said to myself, says I, that’s my nob.”

“ Go on and I’ll follow. Is it far!"

“ Oh, no; in Baxter street, jist t’other side of Leonard '

“ We‘d better go down Broadway, then through Leonard,”
Montgomery said. ‘

“ Bless my eyes! if you ain’t hit it ag’inl” cried “Tbs
Mouse,” in great admiration. “ That’s the werry road."

Then Montgomery followed the skulking fellow, who had
called himself, “Honest Tom, the Mouse."

The two proceeded down Broadway. as may passed the
MetrOpolitan they attracted the attention of a small-sized,
roughlyvdressed man, who stood by the entrance to Nibio’s
Garden, sucking a quill toothpick.

“ Well, I neverl” cried the toothpick man. “ If it don‘t
just rain ‘birds’ today; one this afternoon and now an-
other to-nightl I ought to have an umbrella or I'll get
drowned with ’em. I’ll take a look srter you, my beauty,
as the whale said to Jonah when he swallowed him.”

Then the toothpick man followed, quietly, in the footstept
if “ The Mouse ” and Montgomery.

“ The Mouse" led the way to a little wooden house in
Baxter street, some ten doors from the corner of Leonard.

He opened the door and entered. Montgomery followed.

The guide led the way through a dark entry-way and
opened the door of a dingy-looking room, apparently with-
out windows and lit up by a single candle burning upon a
small table at one side of the mom.

“ Sit down, your honor,” said “ The Mouse,” bringing a
dirty wooden chair and placing it in the center of the room.
“ You see, I‘ve got to see my partner an’ tell him that the
job is put up, quite co rect. I’ll be back in a minit.”

And with this, the man left the room.

Montgomery glanced around him. The aspect was eVil
enough, but he had no thought of fear.

In a few moments “ The Mouse ” returned.

“ It’s all right, your honor; the job is put up," said “ The
Mouse,” with a grin.

“ Is he coming?"

“ Yes. Patseyl" I

Suddenly the ﬂoor under Montgomery gave way. He was
entrapped. He felt himself falling, he knew not where.

 
CHAPTER x.
narmmo s'rnm.

“ A commas?" said Leone, in astonishment.

“ Exactly; a countess.” repeated O’Connel, slowly.

“ Are you jesting with me?" she asked. » -

“ Oh, no; far from it. I only ask you a simple question
How would you like to be a countess?"

“ I can not answer the question until I know the reason
why you put it," replied Leone, who was utterly at a loss to
account for the strange words of her visitor. ~
d "]What has your past life been?” asked O'Connel, and!
en y. ,

“ You know as Well as I,” Leone answered. bitterly.

" True. I do. lhsil i speak of the past!“

“ As you pissss." sale the girl, quietly all may.
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“Very true,” Leone said, sadly:

“ And that misery accompanied by—shall I say by crime 9"
the young man asked, fixing his keen eyes upon the pale face
of the girl.

“ Say what you like; you know the truth,” replied Leone,
tear-drops appearing in her great, lustrous eyes.

“ We'll waive the question and not discuss it," said O’Con-

' nei, carelessly. “ We’ll come to the present. What are you

now 'ﬂ‘ 1.
. “A most wretched woman!" and the young girl buried her
face in her hands as she spoke.

.O’Connel watched her, silently, for a moment; an odd,
stern smile upon his features. He noted the suppressed sobs
of the girl; saw her slight form quiver as she struggled to
keep hack the emotion that swelled within her breast. There
was no pity in the face of the man as he looked upon the
anguish of the young girl. No mercy in his cold smile.

“ I have no doubt that you are quite right,” he said, coldly,
breaking the silence, “but I did not speak of your mental
condition but as to your position in the world.”

“ You wish me to answer you?” she asked, raising her
head and showing the tear-drops shining in the dark eyes.

“ Yes, of course; also I should not have asked the ques-
tion."

“ I am a music-teacher, gaining my bread honestly—”

“And stxposed to all sorts of insults,” he interrupted.

“Yes; you are right, I am.”

“ Because you are beautiful. Few girls in all this great
city; Leone, are half as beautiful as you. You work hard,
yet it is a constant struggle to keep the wolf from the door,
is it not?”

“ Yes, and you know the reason why i” exclaimed the girl,
a ﬂash of indignation passing across her pale face.

“ Yes; I believe I do borrow a little of your spare cash
once in a while, when the goddess Fortune refuses to smile
upon me and the courtly gentleman rakes in my money at
the faro'table,” O’Connel said, coolly. “ But I intend topay
you all up sometime."

“ Sometime!”

“ Yes, when my ships come in.”

“ Your ships?”

"Of course. Don’t you know, Leone, that every one in
this world has ships sailing on the broad ocean of time?
Ships freighted with golden sands, diamonds from Golconda,
and'rich spices from far-on Ind, the land of Prester John?
Contrary winds—blasts of adversity—keep these precious
argosies from us—blow them off the coast even when they
are within sight, and about to enter the haven of safety. We
can even see them—see the sinking sun gleam on the masts
of beaten gold and playing in lines of rippling light on the
shimmering sails of silk; then comes the blast, and darkness
hides the bark from our sight. A man becomes suddenly
rich, Leone; his ships have come in. Few men in this world,
my girl, that in their day-dreams have not visions of the ships
that may come to port at any moment and make them
wealthy men.”

“ And your ship?" questioned the girl, who suspected that
he concealed some special meaning in his fanciful words.

“ Are coming in i” he cried gayly, “ and here, behold! the
int installment of the cargo."

Then he drew from his pocket-book two checks, and laid
them in the lap of the girl.

“ Atlantic bank—three thousand dollars. First National
—three thousand dollars, payable to Lionel O'Connel or or-
deri” exclaimed the girl, in amazement, as she examined the
drafts.

“ Exactly, making six thousand dollars in aiil” said O’Con-
nel, in a tone of triumph.

“Why, this is a small fortunel”

“Nothing to what I will have, before I’m a year older,”
said O’Connei, in a tone of settled conviction.

“ Have you again stained your soul with a crime?” asked
the girl with a shudder.

“ Husht how dare you!” cried O’Connel, springing to his

4 feet, in anger. " Walls haVe ears! be careful for your own
asks. if not-for mine. Foolish girl, why do you speak of the

past? - Let it bury its dead, and don‘t dig them up again.”

He paced the room for a few minutes, biting his nails,
nervously, than he cooled down and again resumed his
seat.

“ Leone, there’s a brilliant future before you. No longer
a poor music-teacher, dependent upon the caprices of others,
but you shall be a very queen. Leone, you are a beautiful
woman; diamonds will shins with double luster in contrast to

 
that glossy, ebon hair. You shall have diamonds, every
thing—almost—-in this world that you wish for. Come, isn’t
the prospect a bright one?”

“ And the price that I am to pay for all this!" asked Ls
one, slowly, a strange light gleaming in her eyes.

“ Price?” said O’Connel, in some confusion.

“ Yes, I am not a fool, Lionel; it does not do credit to
your usual judgment that you take me for one. You paint
a brilliant future, and to enjoy that future [shall have to pay
a costly price. Deal with me fairly; you will find it better
in the end.”

For a moment O’Connel watched the cold, impassive face
of the girl.

“ By Jove! Leone; I believe that you are rightl” he cried,
suddenly. “ I will deal fairly with you. I am going to take
you from this miserable hole and place you in one of the ﬁrst-
class up-town hotels. Give the world to understand that you
are the daughter of a French count who has been killed in
the war. You are without relatives and have sought a home
in this country. Your mother was an English lady, hence the
ease with which you speak English. As for the French, you
know that there are few better French scholars than you
You shall have plenty of money to assist you in. carrying on.
the deception.”

“ But the object of all thief" asked the girl; “ you have
some object, of course. ”

“ Yes—” then O’Connel paused; the explanation was not
so easy as he had imagined.

“Well, I am waiting,” Leona said, watching O‘Connel’s

face, keenly, with her brilliant eyes as she spoke.
“ There is in New York a certain man who has three ene-

mies. These three_wish to ruin this man—”

“ And they call upon me to aid them?” interrupted Leone,
coldly. . '

"Exactly!" cried O’Connel. “A clear head, that little
one of yours, Leone.”

“ And I am to play the part of the siren and lure this mat-
to destruction!”

" Right again.”

“ Who is he?”

“ He is called Angus Montgomery!”

The girl started; the warm blood ﬂushed her cheeks
O’Connel looked at her in astonishment.

“ What! you know this Montgomery, then?" he asked.

“Yes,” Leone replied, sinking her head upon her bosom
in confusion.

“ Where the deuce did you ever meet him?”

“ I do not know him, but I have seen him,” the girl ro-
plied, in some confusion.

‘ Where?”
“ He visits Miss Chauncy’s, where I teach. When I have

been giving Miss Agatha her music lesson in the back-parlor,
he has been in the front one, conversing with Miss Frances,"
Leone answered.

“ He is engaged to Miss Frances.” And O’Connel, watch
1113 Leone’s face intently, saw an expression of anguish pass
over it. A peculiar smile curled his lip as he saw the look.

“ And she doesn’t love him in the least, but only marries
him for his money. Now it would really be an act of mercy
to deprive him of his wealth, and thus save him from a wo-
man who wili—beyond the shadow of a doubt-—make all his
future life wretched.”

“ Yes, for the woman who does not love a man can not
wrong him greater than to marry him,” Leone said, slowly.

“ Truth, every word, Leone. Now you know how you
are to pay for the comfort—nay luxury—of the future. or
course you consent,” O’Connel spoke carelessly.

“ No, I do not,” Leone replied, firmly.

“ You do not consent?”

“ No; on the contrary, I most decidedly refuge.”

“ And why 2"

“ I—I do not wish to tell you," she replied, in confusion.

“ Leone, you must tell me!" O’Connel exclaimed, his face
clouding up, and an evil light shining in his eyes.

“ I will not!” answered the girl, firmly.

“ Then I will tell you,” O’Connel said,- meaningly.

Leone looked at him in astonishment.

“ You do not know,” she said.

“ True; but I can make a shrewd guess. even if I am not
a Yankee. You loss Angus Montgomery!"

The girl started; again the look of pain came over her pale
features.

“Do not attempt to deny it. I am sure that it is the
truth,” be continued. “ Your face is like an open book to

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me, and in that book I have read your secret. You love this
man, whose station is so far above yours, that to hope to
win him would be almost as foolish as to hope to pluck one
of the stars from the sky. And now, see what I offer you!
The chance to win the love of the man whom, doubtless—for

. I know your ﬁery nature—you love better than you do your
3 own life.”

3' love without knowing it.

“ Yes, that is true, for I would willingly risk my own life
to save him from peril!" cried Leone, quickly. “ He inspires
The younger sister of Frances
Chauncy, Agatha, loves him with all the passion of her na-
ture, yet I do not think that he even dreams that she loves
him.”

“ Come, accept my offer; ruin this man, and then you can
have him all to yourself," said O’Connel, coolly.

” I will not,” returned the girl, almost fiercely.

“ You will do nothing else!” exclaimed O’Connel, a lurking
devil shining in his eyes.

“ What do you mean?" Leone’s blood was up, sparkled
in her eyes and ﬂushed her pale cheek.

“ Why, that I will force you to do my will," replied O’Con-
nel, sternly. “ Foolish girl, do you forget the bond that
binds us together—the bond of blood 9"

Leone's head sunk at his words.

“ Shall I call back the memory of the past?" he continued,
ﬁercely, “ call back the scene that made you my slave?"

“ No, no!” almost shrieked the girl, again hiding her face
It her hands. .

" Then do my will—you must—you shall! I know the
strength of the bond between us, and if you do not, you shall
learn it.”

” Oh, spare mei” moaned the girl.

“ No, you will ﬁnd no mercy in me,” replied O’Connel,
sternly. “ Consent; brave me, if you dare!”

“ I do not,” the girl cried, in agony.

“ You consent?”

" Yes. I will do your will."

 
CHAPTER XI.
'rna none-rascal.

Tna'r he was the victim of a terrible plot ﬂashed instantly
into Montgomery’s mind.

Small time had he for thought.

Involuntarin he thrust out his arms, and catching the
sides of the trap with his hands, he held himself suspended
over the dark gulf.

Little chance had he for escape, however, for “ honest
Tom, the Mouse,” approached Montgomery with a huge club,
that he had kept concealed behind him, and raised it high in
air to dash it down upon the head of his victim.

With a desperate effort Montgomery strove to raise himself
from the trap and escape the blow, which seemed destined to
crush him, a stunned and bleeding mass, to the bottom of
the dark pit.

But Angus Montgomery was not fated to meet his death
at the hands of “ The Mouse."

A new-comer upon the scene changed the aspect of affairs.

Through a little window in one side of the room a man
dashed into the apartment, revolver in hand."

One look “ The Mouse ” gave at the man who had so un-
ceremoniously entered the room. and then. with a howl of
rage, the rough dropped the club and disappeared through
the door by which he had entered.

“ Though lost to sight, to memory dear i” cried the
""98". Striking a tragic attitude in the center of the apart-
ment. and gazing after the ﬂeet-footed “Mouse” with a re«
gretful expression upon his face. .

Montgomery swung himself clear of the trap and gained his
feet again. -

“ And he never left me a lock of his hair!" continued the
stranger, who was the man with the quill toothpick, who had
followed “ The Mouse " and Montgomery down Broadway.

” I believe I OWe you my life!” exclaimed Montgomery,
gazing with horror at the dark opening in the rotten ﬂoor,
that had so nearly proved a grave to him.

“ Don’t mention it; these little accidentsus’a happen in the
best of families,” said the man, coolly.

“ Accident?” aided Montgomery! “ the infernal villain
planned my death!”

“ He is quite capable of it Oh! he’s a sly One, ha is!”

 
“ How did it happen that you came so aptly to my assb
tance?" asked Montgomery.

” Well, you see, it’s just like a story in one of the picture-
books. I saw you and this tidy young man—who never
stopped for to shake with me—sich ingratitudei—a-going
down Broadway. Ihad a sort of curiosity to know where
you were going and so I followed on a-hind. When you en-
tered these gay and festive halls—this scene of dazzling light
—represented by that ’ere penny dip, I saw how the cat
jumped and I just came in after you. Luckily for you, sir,
the front room was empty and a little window looked from
that room into this one. It was werry neatly done—quite a
surprise party,” and he chuckled quietly to himself.

“ You thought that I had walked into a trap then?”

“ A reg’lar one and no mistake; he's a rum ’un, that
‘ Mouse ’ is. What he ain’t up to, ain’t worth knowing," said
the man, reﬂectively.

“My banker absconded, recently, with quite a large
amount of my money. This fellow offered to conduct me
to his hiding-place. I fell into the snare—dependingupon

my strength to kee me from danger—and unhesitatingly ac-
companied him. can hardly un erstand the motive for the

attack, unless it was for the purpose of robbery, and I have
very few valuables about me."

“ Handsome ticker that of yours,” said the man, pointing,
“ or leastways I judge so from the looks of the chain."

“ Watch and chain are worth twoﬂfty.” Montgomery rs-

lied. r ,

p “ Why, bless your innocence! there’s roughs ’round here
that would take your life for a ﬁve-dollar note, and if they
were a little drunk, they’d do it for a glass of whisky.” _

“ I suppose we had better get out of this.  fellow
may return with assistance," Montgomery said. ‘ A

“ Oh, there ain’t any danger,” replied the stranger, coolly.
“ ‘ The Mouse ’ won’t come back ’cos he’s ‘ wanted,’ (and. he
ain’t going to be ‘jugged,’ if he knows it."

“ Wanted?” said Montgomery in wonder. ..

“ Yes, some blue-coated gents are anxious to make  sn-
quaintance."

“ Oh, I understand—the police.”

“ Exactly.” ‘ 
“ Are you one of the Metropolitan detectivesthenf” I '
“ Well, now, I never!" said the man, in wonder. ‘9 Do '1

look like one of them fellows? I wouldn’t have thought it.”

“ I supposed so by the sudden flight of this ruﬂlanv at your
appearance.” .

“ You know what the poet says, ‘ the feller wot prlgs, doth
fear each—what-d’ye-call-it—an omceri' Them ain’t exactly
the words, but them’s the ideas,” spouted the stranger, in
theatrical style.

“ Very true. ”

Then the stranger led the. way into the street.

“ I beg parding, but if you are going up Broadway, I’ll
walk along with you as far as the Metropolitan,” the stranger
said.

“ Certainly," Montgomery replied.

Then the two proceeded onward.

“ By the way, I should like to offer you somean for
this service, if you won’t feel oﬂended, for I am sure that I
owe you my life," Montgomery said, slowly.

A true gentleman, he feared to wound the pride of his on
known preserver; for every man hath his pride, be his con.
dition in life what it may.

“ Well, I don’t know," said the stranger, reﬂectively, " l
s‘pose I have done you a leetle service, but you sees my idea
are that we're put in the world for to help one another
Now, maybe, I’ll get in a ﬁx one of these days; s’pnsel
comes to you and says I want a 'elping hand, will you give
it to me!"

“ You may depend upon that!” cried Montgomery, im
pulsively.

“ And now if you care for to stand a glass of beer I don't
cares if I looks at you,” said the stranger, with a good-nsr
tured smile.

Montgomery instantly signiﬁed his assent to the idea. .

They dropped into a lunch-room, convenient. procth
their ale and then again proceeded on their way. ‘

“ You are not in need of money, then?” Montgomery
asked, with a side glance at the rather seedy dreasof his
companion.

“ No, thank ye,” replied the stranger.
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my card." Then he penciled his address on it, “and that
is my residence.”

“I shan’t lose it,” said theo stranger, stowing it away
carefully in a greasy wallet, much the worse for wear, that
he drew from his pocket.

“ And your name?”

“ Christopher Pipgan; I’m a dorg-fancier,” the stranger
replied, with a grin.

“ A dog-fancier?”

“ Yes, I deals in all kinds of dorgs; perhaps you want to
buy a derg?”

“No, thank you,” Montgomery replied.

' “I don't have any particular place to hang out; I lives
round in spots," and Mr. Pipgan grinned, good-naturedly, as
he madethe candid confession.

A sudden thought occurred to Montgomery.

“ How ‘would you like to enter my service?” he asked,
“ not as a servant but as a sort of a steward—a conﬁdential
man to look after my interests?" Montgomery had taken a
great fancy to the unknown who had come so timely to his
rescue.

“I carn’t do it——much obliged to you for the offer,” Mr.
Plpgan said, with a solemn shake of the head. “ It would-
n’t suit me. I likes my liberty too well. But, if you ever
happen to need the services of a man that you can depend
on, you can reach me by a note left at ‘The Grapes' in
Houston street.”

“- You mean the little English ale saloon near Crosby?”

“ Yes, and I am generally in there ’bout noon to get a
drop.” *

“ You are English, then?”

“ A reg'lar Londoner—Bow Bells and all that sort of
thing, you know,” said Pipgan.

By this time they had reached the Metropolitan.

“ Here I stop,” said the Englishman, halting.

“Good-night, then,” and Montgomery extended his hand
to the other. “ Mind, if you want a friend come to me."

“ Thank ye, and if you need any assistance, don’t forget
Oris‘Pipgan, as my pals used to call me across the water,"
replied the Englishman, and so the two parted.

“A reg’lar out-and-outeri true-blue and no mistake!” ex-
claimed the Englishman, as he watched the tall form of
Montgomery, until it was lost in the crowd—hastening along
“ Well, now if this ain’t been a wonderful
day for meeting old friends, I’m a Dutchman and don’t
know what ‘ blue ruin ’ means! Let’s ﬁgure up on the day.
First and foremost I meets my dashy nob—whose hair used
to be darkobrown and is now a beautiful golden, quite love-
ly for to behold—if I hain’t made a mistake in the man.
Plp—-old boy! bet you ten to one, you hain’tl I dodges
him to a house in Tenth street and I waits outside three
mortal hours afore my bird puts in an appearance. Then
he goes to a brown-stone house on Twenty-third street where
they keep a first-class menagerie, consisting of a lively tiger
—whose claws are awful to behold when he sees a roll of
greenbacks. Then I quietly and scientiﬁcally pumps a youth
who sells papers at the corner, and as he happens to know my
bird, I gets a full account of him. So far, all is serene.
I can put my fingers on ls'm when I wants to. Then bird,
number two, ﬁles up, but he’s only a snipe, while the other's
a pheasant. A dorg~mani blessed if ‘I ain’t a bird-man,
too!” And with this reﬂection, Mr. mgan resumed his
former station in front of the hotel.

Montgomery walked slowly along up Broadway. He
was just beginning to realize what a terrible danger he had
escaped.

“ By Jove! I was within an ace of death!” he exclaimed.

Then two ladies coming down Broadway caught his eye.

One was Miss Agatha Chauncy, a younger sister to Frances,
and the other her aunt, Mrs. Severn, an elderly lady, who
took charge of the Chauncy household.

Agatha was a tall girl, just eighteen years of age. She
was a complete contrast to Frances, having dark eyes and
dark hair, but she was fully as beautiful as her sister.

Montgomery was somewhat astonished at seeing Agatha,
as he believed her to be at Newport.

“1 came away in the same train that you took. I saw
you when you got into the smoking-car," she explained.

“ And Frances?” he asked.

“ She will be here to night.”

A few more words and the two ladies passed.

“ What a deuced pretty girl Agatha is,” Montgomery
mused to himself, as he walked on up the street, “ and what
nit-did eyes shs has—black as jail By Just" and the

 
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young man started at the thought, “ her eyes are exactly
like the eyes of that mysterious White Witch. He! predic-
tion comes near the truth. The ﬁrst blow at my fortune
has been struck, but—bah! it is an accident. Who can
foretell the future?"

A wise question. Who can answer it?

CHAPTER XII.
morass. man son was: none.“ NCIEB.

A WEEK after Montgomery’s arrival in New York, walk.
ing down Broadway one ﬁne morning, he met Tulip Roche
and Herman Stoll.

“ Any news of Catlin?" Tulip asked.

“No; there isn’t much doubt about his escape with the
plunder,” Montgomery replied.

“ I heard that it was fifty thousand that he let you in for,”
Tulip said.

“ No, only twenty; that’s bad enough," said Montgomery,
with a laugh.

“ I suppose you’ve lost your faith in bankers, eh?” said
Tulip, laughing.

“ Well, yes, to a certain extent. I'm going to be my own
banker hereafter,” Montgomery answered.

Tulip and Stoll exchanged glances.

“ That’s a capital ideal” exclaimed Tulip; “ how are you
going to manage it?" ‘

“ Oh, simple enough. I ordered a small safe to-day that
I intend to keep in my bed-chamber, and in that safe I in-
tend to put all my bonds, etc. ”

Again Tulip and Stoll exchanged looks. This was valua-
ble news for the conspirators.

“ By the way, Montgomery, have you seen this new beauty
who is dazzling the eyes of all the young bloods?” Tulip
asked. _

“ No; who is she?"

“ ’Pon my life, it’s dimcult to say!” exclaimed Stoll
joining in the conversation; “ there are so many reports
about her. Within the last half-hour I have been informed
that she is a Russian princess; a niece of the Emperor of
Brazil; the daughter of an English earl; the ﬁrst-cousin oi
the Mexican President; and a celebrated opera-singer from
Italy. "

“ All wrong, I assure you, Stolll” cried Tulip.

“ Well, I only repeat what I have heard," he replied.

“ What you say, Tulip, quite excites my curiosity,” Moat-
gomery said.

“ She’s enough to excite any one’s curiosity i" cried Stoll.
quickly. “ She is the prettiest woman that I have ever set
eyes on, and I ﬂatter myself that I know a pretty woman
when I see one."

“ Her diamonds, too, are magniﬁcent!” Tulip observed

“ But who and what is she?”

“ Well, I’ve told you several things that she is supposed
to be; you can take your choice,” Stoll said.

“ But, Tulip, what is your information regarding this un-
known beauty?" .

“ That she is a French countess; that is, the daughter or
a French count who was killed at Saarbruck; one of the ﬁrst
victims of this Franco-German war—”

“ My dear boy, you may depend upon it that you are de.
cidedly wrong. Coleman himself told me, in strict conﬁ.
dence, that she was a Russian princess, and he promised me
an introduction," interrupted Stoll.

“ Why, it seems to me that this fair stranger has created
quite an excitement," said Montgomery, who was addressing
all his conversation to Tulip. and quietly ignoring the pre
senoe of the broker entirely.

“ 0h! she is a beautiful girl—dresses splendidly and with
such perfect taste. Her diamonds, too, are magniﬁcent and
set in such an odd fashion. Her ear-rings are two golden
snakes coiled in a spiral and holding a single diamond in
their months; while her breast-pin is a mass of golden snakes,
all ONWiDOd Mould 08011 other, and each snake holding a
diamond in It! jaws. Then her necklace i; one large golden
“an, the “il‘fwening in the mouth, and curiously con-
tinued with ﬂexible joints like the reptile itself. In the body
of the snake are a multitude of little diamonds.”

“ Strange fancy for a lady’s ornaments,” said Montgomery.

“ And her style of beauty is as odd and wondrous as has
Main.”

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“ But how did you procure all this information!” Mont-
gomery asked. .

“From O‘Connel. In some way he heard of the arrival
of this beautiful unknown, and, as a newspaper man, he
made it his business to ‘interview’ the lady. To his aston-
ishment, he discovered that she was an old acquaintance.
He had met her at Paris. In some way—these newspaper
writers, you know, manage to get acquainted with almost
everybody—he was introduced to the old count, her father,
some years ago. Of course the lady was delighted to meet
a friend in this strange country. So, you see, O’Connel is
ﬁrst favorite."

“ If I get half a chance, I will cut him out," said ,Stoll,
stroking his beard. “I hate to serve a friend so, but all's
fair when a pretty woman is in the case.” ‘

“Here comes O’Connel now,” said Tulip, as he caught
sight of the young Irishman advancing up the street.

“O’Connell” Tulip called, as he came up.

” Ah! good-morning, gentlemen,” O‘Connel said, gsyly;
” what’s the news!”

“Nothing particular. By the way, I see that you are
‘got up’ regardless of expense—rose in your buttomhole,
immaculate kids. Gentlemen, I lay ten to one that OlCon-
nel is on his way to visit the fair Frenchwomanl” Tulip ex-
claimed.

“ You’d win. I am bound for the Coleman House!"
O‘Connel said, laughing. “ I promised to take Miss Leone
for a drive through the Park this morning."

“ Leone? A pretty name!” exclaimed Montgomery.

“Yes, and the woman that bears it iaprettier fer than
the name; but I’d better take care how I praise; her too
much, or I shall have Montgomery, here, as mad after her as
all the rest," O’Connel said, laughing. .

“Not much danger of that. You forgot, I have never
seen the lady." V .

“ Ah! then there's a pleasure in store for you,” O’Connel
said, quickly. “Come, I’ll lay.sside all jealousy and be
your guardian-angel. If you” will walk as far as the hotel
with me, I'll give you an introduction."

Tulip and Stoll groaned in concert , , - ,

“ You have never oﬂered to introduce nel" exclaimed
Tull .

“pNor met” added Stoli, I 

“ All in good time; you shall have introduction both of
you; aliens." I _ V

And then Montgomery and O’Connsl proceeded up the
street.

Tulip and Stoll gamed after the two, a peculiar smile upon
their features.

" He bites!” said the broker, coarsely. ‘

“ How could he resist when the tempation is a pretty wo-
man?” asked Tulip.

“ Women have always ruined men since the days of
Adam," said Stoll, with a sneer.

“ They have never ruined you."

“ They would if I had ever cared for any of them," Stoll
replied. “ But, I’m no milksop. I never saw the woman
yet that I couldn’t forget when I wanted to.”

“ That is because you never have low"

“ Yes I have.” .v

“ Who?”

“ Myself.”

Tulip laughed. He knew that Btoll spoke the truth.

“ By the way, digyou hear what he said about keeping
his valuables in his rooms?" asked Stall.

“ Yes. " ' . .

“ O‘Connel must know about it. His crafty head Will de-
Vise some means of getting at them."

" And Angus Montgomery will be much tho poorer.”

“ Exactly,” Stoll said, with a chuckle. ‘ A

“ This O‘Connel evidently bears lontgosnery a deadly
hatred.”

u Yes.”

“ What do you suppose is the reason of it!"

“ Oh, the old gentleman down below only knows But
one thing we must be careful of,” Stoll said, mystiﬁ-
ously.

“ And what is that!” Tulip asked.

“ This O'Connd is a deuoed Inna follow.”

I! Yes.”

“ Sharp as a needle.”

“Well, what of in" U . ,

“ We must look out that he isn’t too smart for us,” Stall

said, ambiguously.

 
“ We three have signed a compact.”

“ Yes."

“ I intend to keep it; do you?"

“ Yes, of course. ”

“ And the one who breaks it"

“ Death.” 1 V

“O’Connel will keep faith with us or pay the penalty],
said Tulip, slowly and signiﬁcanth 

Then the two passed on down the street. 

We will follow O‘Conucl and Montgomery.

“ By the way,” said Montgomery suddenly, “do you re-
member the last masquerade at Newport?"

“ Yes, certainly,” replied O’Connel. _

" The night you were the dress of the White Clown!”

“ Yes; what of it?” ~

“ What were you doing out on the balcony about ten
o’clock?”

O’Conncl could not repress a slight movement of astonish-
ment.

“Why, how the deuce did you know thatI was on the
balcony it” he asked. '

“ I saw you through the window. Do you‘remernber my
telling you. about a mysterious woman, drused oil --in white,
who predicted that certain things would happen to me in the
course of the year?" Montgomery asked. . .

“ Yes, the White Witch; that was what she called her-
self, wasn’t it?” O‘Connel said. He spolse‘quietly and un.
concerned, yet he felt that he was treading onds'sigerous
ground. .

“Yes; this strange woman told no conﬁnthings, and
when I doubted the truth of her stateshents, 'sisc‘dr'ew aside
the curtain of the window and bade rne lookout upon the
balcony and see for myself.” . . , v. .

“ And what did you see!” asked O’Connel, a peculiar
smile appearing upon his face. ' , 1 .

“ You and two others; one dressed sea/merit, and the
other as a cavalier. You were on your kiosk, and I heard
you say something about ‘ three drops of blood) ” ’

O’Connel burst into a lond laugh. ,  - ,- . .  ~

“ And the woman said Our positions wouldoonlm-hss
words?” , , v

“ YOU.” '. r - . . t

“ By Jovel” and O’Connel laughed louder than More;
“ now, this is really too good; ha, .ha, hal.’ Why, we wu’e
rehearsing for the tableau of the Duel in the Shows you re-
member the picture. We’re going to display it theirst op-
portunity—the tableau, you know, not the pictusefr

“ What an ass I have been!" cried Kontgsmery,
noyed. . '

“ 0h, your White Witch is a humbug, clearly.”

Then the two entered the Coleman House. .The
ordered by O’Connel was standing in front of the.th

About an hour afterward, ~ the two young v men, as.
carting the beautiful girl known as the CounteuloftEpes-
nay, but whom the reader knows better as :Leene Rescue,
descended the hotel steps and entered the openoers'iage in
waiting. '

A man sauntering, slowly, along on thetother hides)? the

street, caught sight of the little party of three and-paused in

utter amazement. .

The quill tooth-pick dropped from 'hisnouth toil-s pave-
ment nahueded. t. -

Hts gaze was fixed on the ’faee of We ‘He ata'red as
though the fair girl was a spirit risen fmmohe grave, rather
than one of earthly mold.

The man was thoroughly astonished ' /

“Jigger my buttonsl" he cried, “it isl‘lnaybe “bit!
If it is—what then? Who knows?"

 
CHAPTER XIII.
m m an.

WILL, I’m blestl" muttered Pipgan, ache watched the
carriage drive 06. “ If this r’ere ain’t miraculous—wonder-
ful for to behold! Why, these familiar faces. makesme think
that I’m across the water. Shall I follow them?” ‘

A moment he pondered on the question.

“What’s the use?” he said, reﬂectively. 9‘ The 81,-], "1.
dently, lives in that hotel, so I know where, to‘ﬁnd her it I
want her; and as for the i.l:-.~.hy nobyith, the golden hair—
blesscd if that hair-dyeing ain‘t a brilliant ideal-J know

I

 
18 ‘ Hunted Down; or, The League of Three.

L; z;— ' ‘ m’-"  “7'_“A‘~"" " “"““"‘

 
where to ﬁne him if I wants him. But, do I want him?
 That’s a question that I can’t answer just now. I shall have
«i, to use the ocean cable to ﬁnd out. I might as well inquire

“ Do you think so?” Montgomery answered, evading the
question.
“ Well, yes. It struck me that way. I only gave her

 
3 a little as to who this girl is—what tack she’s sailing on now, a casual glance, though, as we passed; perhaps I am wrong.” ‘
i.» as a nautical man would say. Just to think of my coming “ I never saw her out of sorts,” Montgomery said. "i
i: to this ‘ hlarsted country, you know,’ for to enjoy myself a don’t believe that she could get angry if she tried to; she is
y 1' bit, and getting right into business.” very amiable.”
if Then Mr. Pipgan missed his toothpick. He was vainly ﬁghting against what his heart told him
 “ Another quill gone!” he muttered, as his eyes found 'it was truth. He was sure that Frances was displeased.
 on the pavement. “That’s the second one that this ’ere party “ What does ‘ Iago ’ in the play say about ‘ belles in
i". has 008‘ 1138-" . their parlors, devils in their kitchensr’ ” said O’Connel,
 He supplied himself with a fresh toothpick from his pocket shrewdly.
 and then crossed the street to the hotel. He waylaid the “ 'l‘hat’s nonsense, as far as Miss Chauncy is concerned," . y
 colored gentleman in charge of the door, and within ﬁfteen said Montgomery. “ A better girl never lived." ’R
 minutes had the full history of the “ Countess of Epernay." “ Yes; i believe some wise man once said that all women '
Igl Then he resumed his stroll up Broadway. are angels until they were proved to be—the contrary," ;
if: The carriage 'containing the countess, Montgomery and O‘Connel replied, with latent sarcasm in his tone. ;
 Lionel drove up the street. “ Wise men say very stupid things, sometimes,” Mont 
it", The youngNew Yorker found a strange fascination in the gomer said, dryly. 9.
‘1 (ace of the beautiful six-L ‘ “ hat’s very true. Well, I'm oﬂ’ down-town; which way i
3; The few minutes that he passed with her in conversation “9 Y0“ gOing?" 1
kg; in the hotel revealed to him that she was not only a beautiful " UP," Montgomery 11,PH“!—
1 out anaccompllshed woman. “AVON. them"
 There was a nameless charm about her that he could not And so the two parted.
-,, understand; a subtle witchery in her face and voice that won To speak truth, Montgomery felt any thing but comforta-
it; upon him. ble, as he walked up the street. I
 {The counts. and Montgomery had entered the carriage ' " I- have been a fool l” he muttered, with a clouded brow, 
m ﬁrst, while O’Connel on the pavement had given some whis- “ yet I haven't really done any thing wrong. Bah! a man ‘
if pered instructions to the driver, then had taken his place be can not deceive himself, and why should I attempt the fruit- .
,1; nae Montgomery. less task? This girl is beautifui-—very beautiful, and she ll
f! The young-New Yorker little guessed the trap that the has cast a charm over me that I can not account for. I l
 Wily O’Connel had laid for him, or the terrible consequences \ love Frances Chauncy with all my'heart—have given her 
,3 . that wouldcneuo from that simple pleasure excursion. all the love that is in my nature; that is, I think I have;
if: Busy in conversation with Leone, Montgomery did not and yet I can not but confess that I" am half in love with
 notice, the route that the carriage had taken until an obser- this stranger, an acquaintance of an hour. A man can’t
ill; Vation of O'Connel’s caused him to raise his eyes. very well love two women, though I don't know why i
,  ' ‘.‘ There'sMisa Chauncy," O’Connel said. shOuid 'come to that' conclusion, when I know that some of
i ‘ I A 3118“ am manned Montgomery’s cheek, as he looked my companions are in love with half a dozen, all at the same ‘
1 I up and cauyst the eyes of Frances. ' time. But that is not the pure, the genuine love that sways
l i She was sitting at a parlor window and a look of astonish- all the inner life of a man. But do I love Frances Chauncy ﬂ

' meat swept over her fair face as she beheld her lover in the
company of a young and beautiful girl. A little touch of
anger was in the soft, blue eyes of the blonde beauty.

. with such a love? ' I believed that I did; but now that this i
dark-eyed beauty with-horiwitching smile has come across ‘
my path, I—I begin to believe that I do ,not know my own

 
v Mammary was annoyed at the occurrence, though he
felt sure that Frances would accept his explanation; yet there
was a look upon the face of his betrothed bride that he did
not like. -: It seemed to him like the little black cloud that
rises in the summer sky—the warning of the thunder-storm.

- The quick eye of O’Connel noted the ﬂush of anger—slight
as it was—upon the face of the girl and the look of annoy-
ance that clouded Montgomery’s brow. His scheme had suc-
ceeded. He had given the driver of the carriage instructions
to drive up the avenue, and to drive slowly. His idea was,
that, in posing the Chauncy mansion, some of the household
might see them and report to Frances that Montgomery had
driven past in company with a lady. Fortune had crowned
hi hope, for the girl with her own eyes had beheld the
fast.

True, there was nothing absolutely wrong in Montgom-
ery's situation, for a third party—O’Connel—was present.
But as the hard of Avon wrote, “ trities light as air are to
the j‘loul, conﬁrmations strong as proofs of holy writ.”

The subtle mind of the chief of the League-of Three had
kimlied the spark, the other members of the brotherhood
must fan it into a bias.

Seeing Frances at the window about spoilt all the pleasure
of the drive for Montgomery. Yet there were moments
when, amid the winding roads of the Park, secluded as it
were from the world, in gazing into the dark, lustrous eyes
of the beautiful stranger-—eyes which seemed to beam with
a softer light when they looked upon him—he forgot the
memory of Frances Chauncy.

The drive over, the party returned to the hotel.

mind, I must shake 03 the strange fascination that this

‘ Woman has thrown around me. I’ll see Frances this after-

noon. . In the pure light of her eyes this, dangerous glamour
of the “other "wiﬁ vanish." L ‘ ' -

These broken sentences came one by one into the mind of
the young‘man as he walked sioMy up the street.

He felt that he was under the inﬂuence of a spell—a fatal
charm that seemed to bind his better nature.

The wild intoxication of passion was slowly stealing over
him. Desperately, he fought against the potent power that
binds ‘in 'iron’ bbhds one-half the World.

As Montgomery went up the street, O‘Connei, smiling over
the success of his scheme, went down Broadway.

“ She has fascinated him, already,” be mused, as he mug.
ed on. “ I could read it in his eyes. He was struck with
her at the ﬁrst glance. The star of Frances Chaunc pales
its light before my cometl It was a clever device 0; mine
to drive past the house of the fair' blonde," and a smile of
triumph lit up his face as he spoke. “ Fortune, too, aided
me. Frances at the window! I couldn’t have wished for
any thing better. She saw her lover drive past the house
with a beautiful girl; one fully as‘ pretty as she is. She is
not the woman that I take her for if one is not jealous. And
if she is jealous, she herself shall rend the bond that binds
Montgomery to her. Of course he can easily explain the
circumstance; but what woman ever listened to reason—95.
pecially if she was jealous?

O’Connel paced onward with hasty steps. Ideas wen
throngiug, quickly, upon his brain, and his stride took the.
cue from their speed.

“ I must tind either Stoll or Tulip,” he muttered. “ One
of them—better 'Btoli, for I doubt if Tulip will be in the .

 r Montgomery and O'Oonnel made their adieus to the coun- 
l l
-‘niood‘after his repulsewmust call upon Miss Chauncy this:  ‘

illi' ! toss.
.; Politely, she pressed them to call again. Montgomery
iii fancied that her request was addressed more to him than to
 his companion, and that her eyes said more than her words.
:9, But, as a rule, nearly all young men are vain in the pre-
3 it? sence of a pretty woman; perhaps Montgomery was not an
I iii exception to the rule.

“ By the way,” said O'Connel, as they descended to the
‘i street, “did you notice on Miss Chauncy didn’t look as
l amiable as usual to-dayl"

afternoon; get there before Montgomery, and in the course-

of casual conversation contrive to tell her that it is all over

town that Montgomery is desperately in love'with this been-

tiful French "girl: i Aha!” rand O’Connel laughed again. ;
" Leone plays her part to perfection." Then his mind came i
back to his scheme. “ With the information of her lover‘s

madness after another woman in her mind, when Montgom. r
cry calls his reception will. be any thing but a gracious one. a

i

 
 ;

 
.- 
,.-.., .. _

vs. _-~‘- "v
a»,

 
Hunted Down; or, The League of Three. 1' ‘19

 
I think I know his nature pretty weli. His pride is the
strong point in his character. Let Frances oﬂend that pride
-—which she will be pretty apt to do, for women are very
free with their words when anger rules them—and every
thing will be at an end between them. If she casts him of!
—wounds his pride—he will call her false and ﬁckle—learn
to despise her. Love will be replaced by contempt. A man
can not love a woman that he thinks is unworthy of him.
Then, desperate—for all men are desperate to a certain ex-
tent when disappointed in these matters of the heart—where
will he seek consolation?”

O’Connel laughed, as he put the question to himself.

"Where would I seek it, or any other reasonable man!
Why, in the love of the woman who does look kindly on my
passion. Will he not do the same? He is only human with

all his strength of mind. I‘ve noticed as a fact in this wotglﬁgi 35?}

the nobler the man—the greater his mental power and 

—the bigger fool he is where a woman is concerned. 
great men have a great deal of the woman in their natum.

Once he seeks her love, he falls like a blind fool into our
power. The snare is carefully laid. Be can not fail to be
caught by it; and, once in the net, I’ll warrant that he’ll not
break through the meshes."

O’Connel’s lips were compressed ﬁrmly and the evil light
was lurking in his eyes as he thought of the triumph in the
future.

“ Even this mysterious White Witch, who seems by acci-
dent—for it can not be aught else—to have hit upon my
very plan, can not save him. I'd give a triﬂe to know who
the White Witch is! but-—bahl it was only a masquerading
Icke; by chance she hit on something that seemed like my
ideas.”

Then O’Connel saw Tulip and Stall standing in front of
the Fifth Avenue Hotel.

 
CHAPTER 117.
m mas nr council.

Tvur and Stoll greeted the chief of the League with a
ioOk of inquiry as he joined them.

“All goes on well," said O'Connel, in response to the
look.

“ You have introduced him to the lady?” Tulip asked.

“ More than that. He has not only made the acquain-
tanca of the fair countess, but he has rode about the Park by
her side for over an hour,” O'Connel replied, with a look of
triumph.

“ You have pushed matters, then,” Btoll said with a coarse
laugh.

“ The game we are playing is a difﬁcult one; we can
neither afford to lose a trick nor to hesitate in our play," re-
plied O‘Oonnel, gravely.

“ So far you have succeeded," Tulip said.

“ Yes beyond my hopes. Montgomery has not only made
the acquaintance of the siren who is to lure him to ruin, but
he has been fascinated by her."

“ By Jove!” cried Stall, exultingly, “ the beginning is
beautiful."

'l‘ullp showed no signs of joy upon his thoughtful face.
Farther-sighted than his companion, he knew, full well, that
the first trick does not decide the fate of the game.

“ He has been attracted by the beauty of our siren?" Tulip
said. '

“ Yes; but more, I think, by her conversation and man-
ners even than her beauty, Our siren is not only a beautiful
woman, but an accomplished lady. There is a nameless
grace about her—a subtle charm—that aﬂects even me, some-
times, and yet I have known her for years," replied O’Connel.

“ She has charmed—fascinated him P"

“ Yes;” and he proceeded to relate the events of their ride
and to explain his further plans for alienating Montgomery
and Frances Chauncy.

The other two listened, eagerly.

“ One of yous—or both—must call upon Miss Chauncy
this afternoon. In the course of conversation, continue to
speak of Montgomery. Say that you saw him driving in the
Park with this girl; hint that it is whispered about that he
is desperately in love with her; that it is a common rumor
that he has offered to marry her, and that bets have even
been made at the clubs as to whether she will accept or re-
fuse his oﬂer. ‘

Tulip’s eyes sparkled as O’COnnel developed the scheme
that was to separate two loving hearts.

 
Stoll listened with wonder. Bis dull brain could never
have framed so clever a device; yet he easily perceived how
likely it was to succeed.

“ A glorious idea!” exclaimed Tulip, warmly.

“ It willyseparate them, beyond a doubt,” Stoll added.

" I think so, then in anger he will seek consolation in the
smiles of our siren.” .

“By the way, O’Connel, who is this pretty girl?" asked :
Btoll, bluntly. ti

" Why, the Countess of Epernay—”

" Yes, yes; I know that‘s what she calls herself; but, who
is she, really?" asked Stoll, interrupting O’Connel.‘

“ A young French girl, by name, Leone Epernay, and the
daughter of a French count who was killed in the fight at
Saarbruck, in the ﬁrst of this Franco-German wur," said
O’Connel, coolly. Y

“ Why, you don't mean to say that she is really—”

“ What she represents herself to bet—exactly," said O'Con.
nel, breaking in upon the speech of the other.

“ Well, but I don’t understand,” said Stoll, in blank amaze-
ment.

“Don’t understand what?"

“ Why, how is it that she is willing to act as our agent in
this matter?" _

“ Ah, that’s a secret," returned O‘Connel,'evasively. “ The
girl is not rich, of course; for it is the money of the League
of Three that supports her in the style in which' she lives.
But she dees not do my will for money.”

“ What for, then?" '

“ My dear Stoll, you do ask terrible questions; and the
worst of it is, that I can’t answer them,” said O’Connel,
pleasantly.

“ You can if you want to?" Stoll returned, bluntly. ,

“ Exactly! but it happens that I don't want to,” and O’Con-
nel laughed in the face of the broker. '

“ Well, she is a deuced pretty woman. I suppose, as she
is living on our money, it won’t be any harm if 1 take a
fancy to make love to her?" Stoll said, coarsely, and with a
wink to Tulip. . '

" Yes, there is one objection,” O’Connel replied. avidly.

“ And that is?” _ ' ,

“Myself.”

“ Eh?” and Stcll looked astonished.

“This lady that we speak of, to please me, has conde-
scended to act the part of a lure, to entrap the bird whose
wings we wish to clip; yet, as surely as I stand here, so
surely would I kill the man—save one alone—who should
dare to speak of love to her." The tone of O’Connel was
icy cold, no trace of passion, and yet both his hearers felt
sure that he would keep his word, should the event happen
that he alluded to.

“ I suppose the one man is yourself, eh?” Btoll said, after
a few moments‘ silence.

“ Perhaps so,” replied O'Connel, carelessly.

“ We had better make an early call on Miss Chauncy, so
as to get there before Montgomery," said Tulip, changing
the subject. “ If once he has a chance to explain his reason
for riding with this stranger, we will have a diﬁcult'tssk in
inﬂaming the girl against him.” ‘ 1 , ,

“ That is a good thought!" exclaimed O’connel, quickly.

“By the way, we got a little information onto! Mont-
gomery this morning that may prove useful to us," said

toll. ‘

“ What is it?” asked O‘Connel.

“ Since the abrupt departure of Catlin, his banker, he has
lost faith in the Wall street gentlemen, and hereafter, he
says, he is going to keep his bonds and like valuables in a
safe in his own room.” '

“ That is information, indeed!” cried O’Connel, quickly.
“A safe in his own room?” and for a. moment'O’Connel
was silent, apparently in deep thought. “ If he. should be
robbed some ﬁne night it would be a heavy blow,” he said,
breaking the silence.

The three looked at each other.

“ Can it be done?” asked Stoll, mysteriously.

“ When three determined men, with plenty of money,
set about accomplishing any possible object, the chances
are ten to one that they will succeed," replied O‘Connel, am
biguously.

“ He must have quite a sum in Government bonds; or, at
least, I know thathe did have,” said Tulip. '

“I‘ll think it over. First, we’ll detach him from this
avenue belle; then, our next blow will be at his money,‘
O’Connel said, quietly.

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Hunted Down; or, The League of Three. m 21k

 
J 3

It was the question that Frances wished to put. coals in his wedding-bed, or stinging nestles or something

“ Yet" . else that would make them deuced uncomfortable,” he mea-

“ Who was the lady?” Frances asked, and she did not any added,
raise her eyes from the carpet as she put the question. u Come, Herman, we must be going,” said Tulip, 

“ The COMIC“ 0f lineman” “ Pray call again, gentlemenﬁ’ Frances said, as,  no,

“ A. countess!" and Frances raised her gaze from the ﬂoor companied them to the 11311, '
in astonishment. “ or course—delighted," said Stoll, gallantly.

“ Yea.” Tulip answered “ She is the daughter of a " And Tulip, you will not forget an old friend," Frauen“
French count who was killed in this war now raging in said, in a tone of “treaty, and she extended her  to
Europe. Of course she doesn't pretend to any title here. him. " ‘
She is only plain Miss Epernay. I believe she intends to Ste“ was mums, down the steps, with hi. back 
make her future home in this country." 1’ turned,

“ Yes, I’ve heard all about her!” exclaimed Stoll. “ She H You wish me :0 comes”
is a most beautiful girl, and has turned the heads of all the u Yes,» replied Frances, quickly and ﬁrmly, and  eyes
ymmg "193-" 4 said more than her tongue.

“And who is the especial favorite—that is, if she has n I win come, them Oh, Frances! ityou’il only latrme
any!" asked Frances, coldly; yet there was a bright tinge hope—n Tunp said, pleadingly, ' ‘ , ‘ '
of scarlet burningin her cheeks. H Don't, speak of that now, please}? Frances‘aaidhsoftly, a

“ Why, haven’t you heard?" asked Stoll, apparently greatly tear shaming in he,- eye, “ Goodbye,” ‘ ' ' ‘ " ‘ ‘
astonished. Then Tulip closed the door and, Frances weslalene

“ No,” replied Frances, , be; sad thoughts. ' " " ‘

Then she looked at Tulip. His eyes were bent upon the Slowly “exclaimed to the parlor.

5001'. 83 if he Wished ‘0 “Old 118’ Slim“. An albumj'calféhe center-table'eaught her eyed, ’
By Tulip'si manner. Frances guessed the name that she She opened/ii and from it took a picture. Jew-stag

' "‘8 about' to he“ ' likeness of Angus Montgomery. '  "‘ ‘ ' g

u Why, “'3 M°nt8°meryv Y0“ ‘kDOW—Mr- Angus Mon“ All the anger of‘her nature was mused at thersiggtxth‘s.
somery.” Stoli said-»- “ They were out riding in the Park handsome face or the man who had proved false to. it, ‘-
together to-day. Mr. O’Connel knew the lady in Paris, and “ strange new! familiar the face, of‘ that girl,“ ‘ o 
he gave Montgomery the introduction" ' i with him in the carriage, was to me. She is the-me

Frames was conscious th‘atl'her 'face was betraying her. who has won the love—no not the love—-—" and'her  
She could not conceal her annoyance. _ “ but the ﬁckle fancy of this man, whom I thought” loved;

The little white teeth almost met in the scarlet lip, and Now I hate him!" " ' "i ‘ ' 
“1011' Win“! We“? tingfid, with ,b100d. Frances stamped her foot in‘anger, and her, )fﬁr 1:me

Btoll had glanced out, of the window after he had ﬁnished wrinkled by many an ugly fro'wn. ’ ‘  _  " v ‘
his speech, and therefOre her" agitation escaped his netice,‘ It was not strange that the face of the woman, known .
while Tulip kept his eyes fixed upon the floor, as if he did‘ as the Countess‘of Epernay, was \familiar to Frances. 
not wish to enjoy the trium‘piijgof hearing that the man who had seen her many a time. ' But, she never”gnes's’ﬁd'thu‘tﬂ_
had supplanted him had now forsaken the treasure he‘he'd richly-dressed girl,_attired in. the, hight of fashim, 1?“:
3° 9‘3“! W011- . rode by the side of her lover, was the hum'ble 

in her heart Frances Chauncy thanked Tulip for his con- Leone Basque. ‘ ’ ' ' ‘ ‘ ' '
sideration. She wasgrateful for his mercy.' Silks and laces work wondrous changein  world, sons

One taunting look from him would have flushed her face times. '  I "' 'J‘ ' 
with tears. ‘ ' -‘ 1‘  ' ' ‘ ! ' “ And I have felt his kisses on my lips. and believed 

“ I expect the wedding willnbe a grand aﬂair,” Stoll said, ' he loved me. I have given up my'lips to him, freely—y
ﬁnding all" “"0116 515015‘ ' '1 h ' kissied him as'I have never kissed any one  Oh! ’1 wt!“

“ Th°."°ddi”8'" F“°9°'.9x¢1!|im°d. in a voice that trem~ ; cry with shame and vexation when I thinker-inf“ ’ ' ' * i
bled in spite'of her eﬂorts as appear unconcerned. ‘ Frances parsed up and dorm the parlor, half In tears,

“ Yes, of course-egrand affair—you know—eVerybody is in anger. ‘ ‘ ' ' I  ”
anxious for an invitation!” cried Stollh glibly. Then she halted and looked again! at the picture.

“ Indeed!" and Frances elevated her eye-brows. She was “ i’ll tear it to pieces!" she cried; ' '
beginning to get over the emotions that led to tears and ex- ‘ “ No, Frances, don’t do that; give it to me!”  Agatha
P°ﬂ°n°° “10,9011!” 10¢ ‘0 “1881'- i Chauncy, who had just entered the room and Overhead-(he

“ Yes, of ecurse; it will be the wedding of the season. words of her sister. ‘ "

I expect Tulip, here, wil be the bridegroom's best man." “ You heard what I said?” asked Frances, with ﬂaming
“ Is that possibleh'l‘u ip!" asked Frances. eyes. ' ‘
Tulip nodded" his head.‘ He could not lie as easily as “ Yes." ,

the broker; his‘ 'educatlon‘ had not been in ﬁnished in Wall “ Take. his picture, then," and she tossed it contemth

street. ’ ously toward her. “ I know why you wish it} ‘Iv'm'

“ Then there is no‘ doubt about it?” Frances said.

“None in the world. She’s a beautiful gir!;;lucky fel-_
low, Montgomerﬂ’te secure such” a treasure," said Stoll,
who lied with ease and grace, the result 'of long experience
in the Stock Exchange. ‘ ’ ' ’

your secret! You love Angus Montgomeryi”!

 
“ When is the wedding‘ to take .placet'i Frances' usually 0 H A P T E R x v 1.
mild blue eyes were ﬂashing. with unwonted lire. ,

“Ah, I can’ttell you that. In fact, I don't believe that “name n- o‘nt’l“ ‘
it is fixed yet; Montgomery doesn‘t’even wish that,'the”fn0.t' Tin warm blood crimsoned th '81 t a . e ' .' '
of the engagement should be made public. Only 'a' few of of her sister. w A '  “k 
his friends know of it.‘ Of course, when I enema every: “ I love. Mr. Montgomery?” she said, slowly”
body was anxious for, an invitation, I meant everybody‘that «Yes. you do!» cried Frances, quickwrnd In m up“,
knows about it. In truth, I believe that Montgomery denies u no you think that I "n blind, 'I m a“, “as  ‘1»
the fact except .to a few intimate friends, like Mr. Roche; ' have seen it from me ﬁrst» " 'r‘r  1*

and myself. 0! course, seeing what we have seen of his ate u Frances, you do not know “h” ,0. m mu"; M

tmtion to the lady; hi couldn’t very well deceive us," and Aggthqrin confusion V I
9m" locked “a ' ‘ n “ Do I notl'l'exclaimed the blond  ,in’ '_
u It seemsto me that it  very sudden, said Frances, u Why would I 10:" himr. “k a,” ‘
“ough‘mnY-n ﬂ d Ste“ ‘1 In i'h  6 ’ to appear calm.  "‘ 'I '   " '
“ Oh, yes! 0 e t ‘ we at rst sg t, you n wig-7‘ ‘ «You ca um “eat n “a I ,,  ,. 
over head and ears. Never saws inan’a'o-Lif' your“  '3 39'?” 9 . , ,P M, ..  ﬁt": “rip!” A

 France-a, disdainfully. "‘ But; WhrdOIIQ‘i 9"?“ “7003"

“‘9 “PmR‘ii’n'T‘,” moon!) in m “13’9" . , . ,, ceal the truth from me? I know that you'do 'lo‘vetiﬁifl—J .
“1 h°p° "m. I” '7“  him” ’°’  h. '9“. “In?” “ Like a brothertyep. .Isckppwledgdthsﬁ”   '

h—W- “"Wmm‘ "M "e!" “#915 E“?! Mr. the ten-title blood’  ﬂushinhér case", flit, r"

haw-Dwain: ' '”"‘ “Likesb rr're’ ted. 34‘s", '
«or eoursa.”titoil replied. «we lika'bpntred-hat w hywmhﬁﬂ .9“ m w 

 
22 Hunted Down; or, The League of Three.

“II! he not to be 3 our husband?” asked Agatha, in won-
der. ‘ ' "

“ Nevsrl",cried Frances, impeiuously.

“ Are you not engaged to be married to him?”

“ That engagement is ended, or will be, the next time that
we meet," said Frances.

“ But why?”

It, was now Frances’ turn to be confused.

~“ I am not aware that I am obliged to answer your ques-
tions," said the girl, in anger.

“ Oh, Frances, don‘t speak that way to me i" exclaimed
Agatha, affected almost to tears.

“_ Then why do you question me? Can’t you see that I
am out of temper?” said Frances, pettishly.

“I did not know that you and Angus—I mean Mr. Mont-
gomery "I'-—and Agatha quickly corrected her speech—“ had
quarreled.’f

“There has been no quarrel between us. Agatha, I do
not choose to give you, or any one else, my reasons for the
step I am about to take. It is enough that my reasons are

," Frances said, ﬁrmly.

“This will be a sad blow to Mr. Montgomery, forI am
sure that holloves you, dearly,” Agatha said, 'Iio'ly:

“ Yes, and like all the reast of the ‘lords of creation,’ he
iovesthree or four others at the same time."

“ How can you say so?” exclaimed Agatha, quickly. “ Oh,
Frances, I am sure that he loves you, and you only. "

“ You are a child!” said Frances, contemptuously.

“ Yes, I am so much younger than you," and on Agatha's
face a slight smile appeared as she spoke.

“ In worldly experience you are,” retorted Frances quickly.
“ But I donit know why I should talk with you about Mr.
Montgomery. All is at an end between us. And novg you
can bewitch him with your little innocent ways as soon as you
like.”

The contemptuous words of Frances stung Agatha to the

nick.
q “ Why should you think that I care for Mr. Montgomery f"
she asked. “ Do you think so meanly of me as for a single
instant to imagine that I have tried to attract the attention
of a man, whom I knew to be your promised husband 1"

.For a moment Frances looked into Agatha’s face without
replying.

Then was a wonderful diﬂerence between the two sisters.
Frances, with her blue eyes and golden hair, was as unlike
Agatha, with her ebon locks and dark eyes, as day is to night

“No, Agatha, I do not say that," Frances said, slowly.
“I am ill-tempered—perhaps angry, but I will not he unjust.
I know, Agatha, that you love Angus. I have seen the truth
in your eyesv—seen it in a hundred little actions. You look
at him as if you wanted to eat him. And now I resign him,
freely, to you. I give up all claim."

“ Frances, how can you say such a thing?” said Agatha, in
sorrowful tones.

“Is itnot better to speak the truth than to conceal it?”
demanded Frances, pacing restlesst up and down the ﬂoor.

“ But, are you quite sure that it is the truth?" asked
Agatha, timidly.

“ Yes,” and the clear tones of the girl showed no signs of
indecision.

“ Then it is all over between you and Angus?”

“ Yes, and forever!" replied Frances, firmly.

“ Why, this is dreadful!” exclaimed Agatha, in blank dis-
ma .
z Dreadful to discover the truth i” asked Frances, in chilly
tones.~

“ But I can not understand it——”

“ And I do not choose explain,” interrupted Frances,
haughtily. “ All that I am willing to say in defense of my
act 'n is—I am sure I do not love Angus as I ought to love
my betrothed husband."

“, But, you did love him?"

“ Yes," and Frances cast down her eyes for a moment as
the memory of the past came back to her. She thought of
the many, man times that she had told Montgomery that
she loved him and him only, and then had given her lips up,

y to his ,caressea ,

“And you have changed?” Agatha asked slowly, and as
she spoke she ﬁxedher brilliant black eyes full on the face
of her sister. ' ,

“ Yes, I have changed, even at the risk of being called
ﬁckle and heartless, not Only by Angus but by every one else
who hears of the affair,” "replied Frances, ﬁrmly.

 
r“... _,_..--.-——__.—

“Are you sure that you know your own mind?" asked
Agatha, putting the question directly.

“ Yes, for the ﬁrst time!" answered Frances, quickly. “ l
have acted like a heartless ﬂirt with a man who loves me bet.
ter than Angus Montgomery ever dared to. I know this
now, and I am sorry for what I have done.”

Frances, pacing with quick step up and dowu the room,
did not notice the quiet smile that crept over her sister‘s
face.

“ Frances, I think that you are acting very hasty in this

matter—”
“ Agatha, wn. you oblige me by attending to your own

affairs and letting mine alone?" exclaimed Frances, facing
her sister, a scarlet spot burning in her white cheeks.

A ring at the door-bell stopped Agatha’s answer.

“ Perhaps that is Angus, now," Frances murmured, half
to herself and half aloud.

“ I’ll go, then!" exclaimed Agatha, quickly; “ but, Fran
ees, don't be hasty.”

Then she hastened from the room.

“ I saw this long ago,” Agatha murmured, as she ascended
the stairs. “ She does not know whom she loves; or rather,
she doesn’t love any one at all. First it was Tulip Roche,
then Angus, and now—who? Well, time will tell."

Agatha was right; as yet, Frances Chauncy had never
loved.

As Frances had guessed, it was Angus Montgomery. She
took the picture and replaced it in the book.

The servant conducted Angus to the parlor.

The twilight of evening had come and the parlor looked
sad and gloomy in the misty light as the young man entered
it.

Frances rose to receive him—she had buried herself amid
the cushions of a large easy-chair at his approach—and ex-
tended her hand to him.

Angus felt a chill creep over him as he took the soft,
white hand of the fair girl. There was no life in the little
hand that lay within his broad palm. No cordial pressure
bid him welcome. It was a hand of flesh, yet to Angus i'
seemed as though it was carved out of stone.

Quietly, Frances sunk back into the embraces of the bug,
chair, looking like some seeptered queen giving audience a.
a rebellious vassal. .

Montgomery felt awkward. The greeting-- -—or rather the
lack of it—had chilled him.

Mechanically—for Angus hardly knew what he did, so
completely had Frances‘ strange manner confused him—he
sat dorm in a chair that stood by his side, and, leaning his
arm on the center'table, looked at the silent bunny as though
she was a judge and he a criminal waiting sentence. -

For a few moments silence held possession of the room,
and the two looked at each other as though the were images
in wax rather than living beings.

Montgomery felt decidedly uncomfortable He experi-.
enced a peculiar sensation as though cold water was run.
ning down his back. He felt that he must break the awk-
ward silence.

“ I saw you at the window today as I Med," he said,
slowly.

" Yes, and I saw you,” replied Frances, quickly and Mrs
was a touch of bitterness in her tones.

Montgomery felt that he had made an mfortalrete beiiin
nin .

‘gI was going to the Park with—"

“ You need not trouble yourself to tell in where you
were going, or who your companions were. I haven't the
least bit of curiosity regarding the subject,” Frances inter-
rupted, in chilling tones.

Montgomery began to feel annoyed. He had visited
Frances with the intention of explaining how it was that he
came to drive out with O’Connei and the beautiful Fishes
girl. But, this chilling reception utterly confounded hin..
In his own mind he felt that he had not committed any as
that should call down upon his head such a crushing weigh
of icy coldness.

"Then 1 “PM in“ I00 do not wish me to say any
thing about the subject!" he said, slowly.

“ You are quite right. I do not care to hear any thing
about it.” France- roplied. in the same chilly tones. .

“ WC“. “I”. I '00" say any thing in regard to it."

Montgomery was annoyed and showed it in his voice

The cool way in which he spoke angered 1mm 3h.
did not intend to let the matter drop at mu}.

 
Hunted Down; or,

The League of Three.  23’?

 
“I think that it is better that you should not speak of it,"
she said, signiﬁcantly.

Even in the gloom of the twilight, the girl saw the warm
blood leap into Montgomery's face, and detected the angry
flash of his eyes.

“ Frances, what do you mean by that?" he asked, quick-
ly, and the tones of his voice showed plainly how deeply his
pride was hurt by her words.

“If you can not answer the question, I shall not,” she
said, coldly. She strove to maintain her calmness, yet pas-
sion was surging wildly in her veins.

“ Your words sound like an accusation, Frances,"—and
his tone softened as he pronounced the name—the name of
her he loved so well; “ have I done any thing to displease
you?" And rising, be advanced to the girl, took her hands
in his own and looked steadily into her face.

The hands he held were as marble, the face as ice; the
blue eyes glittered as coldly as moonbeams shining on polished
steel. ' '

“ Yes, you have displeased—disgusted me 1” Frances said,
contemptuously.

Montgomery dropped the little hands as though they had
changed into coals of fire. He stared at Frances for a mo-

w

ment like one struck by some sudden shock. The young '

man had had many bitter things said to him in his life, but
none that cut him like the careless words of the girl. In
one single instant all the love that had filled his breast—
for he had loved Frances Chauncy better, than he ever loved
any other woman—ﬂed, and in its place came contempt—
almost loathing. He now despised the woman'that but one
little minute ago he had worshiped.

Nothing in this world will kill a man’s love so quick as
the knowledge that the object of his love is unworthy of it.
The revulsion then is sudden, complete.

One word had cured Angus Montgomery.

He was not even angry with the woman who had tried to
win his love-tried to make him love her, and then wished
to humble him to the statureof the slave.

Frances Chauncy had “ counted without the host,".for she
had roused the pride of Montgomery, and that pride was so
strong that it even carried love. before it. She had wished
to dismiss him “ humbled," but he was about to retire with
the laurels of a victor.

Mentally be congratulated hintself on his “ escape.”

 
OHAP'I‘ ER XVII.
Hormones! m are “ reruns.
Mom-sonar looked at Frances with a peculiar expression

upon his face. . ,- _
She did not, understand the meaning of the look, and it
puzzled her.

“ It is all over, then," Montgomery said, slowly.

“ Yes," replied Frances. .

Someway, it pained her to utter the word.

“ Give me back my letters, please; here are yours," and
the young man took an envelope from his breast-pocket and
gave it to her. In the envelope were six or eight dainty
little notes.

Frances Chauncy had little idea how Angus. Montgomery
had treasured the foolish, loving letters.

The girl was annoyed. ,

Her action had not taken the young man by surprise, as
she had supposed it would. It was very evident to her—
from the fact of his having her letters with him—that .he
had come prepared to end the love-affair existing between
them. , , g

“ I will bring them in a moment," she said, coldly. Then
she rose from her chair and left the room. ' “ A

“ By Jove!" Montgomery muttered to himself, as Frances
disappeared, “ this is going to be a lucky escape. I came
prepared to confess my foolishness in being led into the
company of this beautiful French girl, and to ask her for
giveness for the seeming fault, and, ‘lo and behold!’ in a
single instant, with one stinging word. she rouses my pride,
arms me against the blow which she strikes to crush me.
ought to be very thankful, for the affair might have made
me very miserable. As it is. I m glad that itia ended".

Then before the eyes 0f ‘50 young man. as he sat musing

h the darkened parlor, rose a beautiful face; eyes of lustrous ,

is. dark as night‘s mantle, looked with love upon him;

 
pouting lips, rosy-red, relieved the whiteness of the alabaster
skin; all was perfection. It was the face of Leone that
Montgomery saw in his day-dream.

“ What a contrast between that glorious creature, so full
of life and ﬁre, and this frigid, blue-eyed girl, whose nature
is icy-cold and can not warm with passion’s flame!" he mur-
mured.

Then, as Montgomery thought on, he suddenly started

“ By Jove!” he cried aloud, as a remembrance ﬂashed

' across his brain; “the White Witch! Her predictions are

coming true. She said that the woman I loved would prove
false to me, and she referred to Frances Chauncy. Is it a
coincidence, or can it be possible that any one can guess the
future? Bahl that is nonsense, and yet it is strange, to say
the least. Who could it have been that so aptly played the
part of the White Witch? Some one well acquainted both
with Frances and myself, that is evident. But h0w could
any one guess that the girl and I would quarrel?” I .

For a moment or two, Montgomery was silent, plunged in
deep thought. . ’

“ I have it!” he said, suddenly; “ Frances has some Conﬂ-
dant—some girl that knows her well, and guessed that she
would prove false to me. That girl is the White WitCh; I
am sure of it! And now I will not rest until I have discov-
ered who she is. It is astonishing that the sudden breaking
03 of the old love does not give me more pain,” he continued.

thoughtfully. “ Is it because a new one is beginning intake ‘

possession of my heart! Or is it that I have never really loved

‘ this girl! From the ease with which'I a-Vgoing to give 'her

up, I should think that the latter was the truth. ‘I seem to
feel no regret." V I 
The return of Frances put an ehd to the young man's

‘ specul stiom.

Without a word, she gave the letters into his hand. " ' ' ,'
Carelessly—not even looking at them—Montgomery 
them into the open grate where burned a sluggish ﬁre—the

. autumn air was quite chill.

A few puffs of smoke, a crackling of paper, a light bless.
and the passionate words of love that Angus Montgomery
had written to Frances Chauncy vanished into air. , ,

“ Now my pictures; yours is in the envelope,” Montgom
ery said.

Frances hesitated for a moment. She had evidently not‘

expected that he would request the return of his pictures,
Then, from the album on the center-table, she took them and
gave them to him. .

Deliberately the young man tore them into pieces and cast

. them into the ﬁre.

The girl could not understand his meaning. He consid
ered the pictures worthless. Her touch had contaminated
them.

Then, without a word, Montgomery left the house. As
he turned at the door to close it behind him, he found that
Frances had followed him and stood just inside the entry-
way; her face white as the face of the dead. But Montgom-
ery did not even deign to look at her.

Slowly he descended the steps to the sidewalk, and then
walked up the street.

The die was cast. p

Angus Montgomery no longer loved Frances Chauncy.

Frances remained for a moment at the open)‘door; then
she closed it and re-entered the parlor. She was annoyed—'—
angry. She had expected a stormy interview, and had pro,
pared herself for it. She had looked for bitter reproaches,
a torrent of words; but on the contrary, she had been given
up coolly and calmly, e if she had not been worth the win-
ning.

“ He never cared any thing for me!" she exclaimed,” as she
thought over the scene that had just transpired. “ If he had
cared for me, he would not have given me up so easily.”
Yet Frances had not loved Angus onehalf as much as he had

‘ loved her. Her nature was cold—incapable of feeling th

ardent passion that turns a desert into a paradise, and make.
a heaven of happiness on this dull earth, Such love. she
could not understand. She had fancied Montgomery—3'85”.
because he was possessed of good looks; second, bacause he]
was rich. It is very probable that be second reason was
stronger far than me ﬁrst. I

We will leave the spoiled child of fortune to her reﬂections,
Which were far from being pleasant, and follow Montgomery.

' A block or so up the street the young men met Tulip 

O’Uonnel.

" What's the matter!" asked Rocha Es new“)? twist" “

look on Montgomery’s tssa

 
4‘2" ' A ..  ~‘< 2.1.1“ ‘
-1» -sz.._':  - .~ ..~ ‘,~‘

. .
‘ﬁ 1

24 Hunted Down; or,

The _I_._eague_of Three.

 
“ 9h, nothing‘psrticular,” Montgomery replied, strivmg to
app'ea" 'unconCerned; ‘f only a woman‘s whim.”

 strange that in all aﬂ‘airsoof the heart a man is never
hapr untilhe has a confidant.

Tulip aud‘ O’Co’nnel guessed the truth at once. They
guased that their plan had succeeded, and that Angus and
Frances were as strangers to each other.

” A woman’s whim, eh?” Tulip said, with a light laugh.

“I hope that it is nothing concerning Miss Chauncy,”
O’Connel‘ observed. '

“ Youl halve hit the truth,” Montgomery said; “ the engage-

" By the way, ’l‘ulip, are you going anywhere this even»
lug?" asked Montgomery, suddenly, putting down the ‘gun.

“ Yes, O’Connel and I were going to call upon the coun-
tees,” Tulip said. ’ . ‘

“' Come with us,” O’Connel added.

“ No, no, don’t ask himl” Tulip cried, in mock des-
pair; “ what chance will we’ have to make an impression if
he gees?" ‘ ‘ '

“ Oh, I'm not a dangerous rival!” Montgomery exclaimed
aughing. '

“I submit under protest," Tulip rejoined

war-4:...“ 

ment between Miss Chauncy and myself no longer exists. " “ We will have time for a stroll down Broadway ﬂrst,’ '
‘7 Is 'it possible?” exclaimed Tulip, in affected astonish- u'Connel said. ‘
ment. ' ‘ Then the three left the house.
“Yes, it is possible,” replied, Angus; “ we have parted, As they. passed into the street, Tulip contrived to exchange ﬂ!
and forever.” 3 word with O'Connel, unnoticed by Montgomery. 
“ But,“not, the  be arranged?” suggested O’Con- “ Did you succeed?" Tulip asked. '
neL' ") '  ' “Yes,” O’Connel replied.
f‘ No", V “ You had time enough?"
“ But, the reason—pardon the question, perhaps I am tres- “ Plenty."
passing,"_0'00nnel said. I “ When will you make the attempt?”
“ Not at all. Come and dine with me, and ‘ I’ll tell you “ As soon as possible.”
all about it,” Montgomery said. “ You shall 'be the judges Then Montgomery joined them, and the three proceeded
as to whether I have acted right or wrong.” I towﬁ'd Broadway, '
The,two accepted the invitatiOn, and Angus related all the ' ' ‘
particulars cf the misunderstanding between himself and the ‘ —- _- ‘ 1

a .
. us- -
.r: yuan

4:? *9

a.-

ciza" ‘- 5-3-1 vs ' vs.

‘15—‘a‘

I‘

——_———_.__-.u

' -— ~— sacs-n

A ;: ~3£§_m__ gravid
" a» —:-.7=<-;~:.: ..-c

‘ ;~.‘§=

wVE-pas

blonde Beauty. I

Of Tulip‘and O’connel declared that he could not
have  otherWIse,'atid that he was perfectly justified in
not? ﬁns; ﬁne and done;

inhe'r oter,‘th'e‘ three adjourned to Angus' snuggery to
enj‘o¥_their cigers. ‘ .
‘ "the way," said Tulip, suddenly, “ you spoke about
having a safe to keep your valuables in, Angus?”

,‘f Yes, Ihave one,” replied Montgomery; “ it’s much safer
than to trust them to the mercy of some banker who may
 asthhish me some ﬁne morning by decamping without notice,

v like thefleet-footed Catlin.”
"if, “'Biit, that, there's the chance of being robbed 2" suggested
ll." O’Oon'neh ' '

2:

CHAPTER XVIII.
m poem cams urea ma courses.

Leon, now known to the world as Leone Epernsy, the
daughter of a French count, but 'whOm the reader knows
better as Leone Basque, the music-teacher, sat in her luxuri-
antly furnished parlor and looked out on busy Broadway.
Idly she watched the everomoving thr‘ong. Her thoughts
were elsewhere. -
“ It is a'terrible game that Lionel is playing,” she mur-
mured, thoughtfully. “What can be his motive—money?
yes:‘ but 'soshething more than money: What can» it be?
on; I am and of being at. slavei" a “wall of pain, heart~ “

9;;

‘ "rv":

< «~12.

‘5.“-
.

M.‘ “w .-
.—. i=1; ,s .

 it “Tory little danger of that,” Montgomery replied. “ I I V

l i keep the safe in my bed-chamber, and, as I’m a light sleeper, felt. VII in her "10051 She 5M0, “ When Will the time
ii;‘ I ,think that it would be a diﬂicult job for any one to get at come thlt brings no release from my bondage? Not, 1
 it without waking me up." fear, until I am in grave-clothes. Oh! what a fate is mine.
iii “ you know, Angus, I’d like to see it?” Tulip said. What am It A'lure'td‘entice to ruin the months” love
93?: “ I think ‘that itis a capital idea, and I have half-a-mind to with all my heart and soul. The beauty that nature has
iii buy. onsmyself." , given me is now a curse. ‘Whywdid not this man hate me?
"L "‘ Cefta'inly. it’s only in the next room,” Angus said. Yet, I can not ﬁnd it in my heart to try and make him do

so. No, in his presence, I am happy, I exert all my wo-

manly gifts to make him like ma: I play! .well the part that

Lionel has forced me to act. I am ashamed of m self when

I think of it.” And, sorrowfully, Leo'n'e buried ‘er face in

her hands. ' t *
A low knock upon the door aroused her from her reverie
Leone, with a sigh, raised her head.

Then the three young men entered the bed-chamber.

The safe stood in one corner of the room.

Montgomery knelt and opened it.

“,You see,,it can not be opened without knowing the com-
bination,” Montgomery said. _

“ Yeé, I see," O’COnnei replied, and he knelt by Mont-

.-‘-=:—'"' -—; ‘ :

gomery’s side and examined the lock of the little safe with
great attention.

“ It is clearly impossible for any one to pick such a look
as that, I should say,” Tulip remarked, bending over the
other two.

“ Oh, clearly impossible!” O’Connel exclaimed.

Then Tulip sauntered over to the other side of the room
and took up a ‘ donble-barreled shot-gun that stood in a cor-
ner.

“ What did this gun cost, August” he asked.

“ I don't exactly remember; somewhere about a hundred
and ﬁfty, I think," Angus replied.

“ It’s a breech-loader; isn’t it? Cams and show me how

“ Come in l" she said, thinking that it was one of the set
vants of the hotel.

In obedience to the order, the door opened and a strange;
entered.

He was a man a little below the medium size, dressed
plainly, but not poorly. His face was a peculiar one, thin
and with an impression of shrewdness visibly stamped upon
n. .

“ I begs your pardon, ma’am," he said, with a low bow,
removing his hat; “ I ’opee I ain’t intruding, but would you
like to buy a dorg!”

Then the man—who was Chris Pipgan in person—drew

 . 1‘ A... . '; W .7  _ <5

I

from a pocket of his coat one of the prettth little dogs that 3‘
Leone had ever seen. It was hardly bigger than a rat, a
terrier of the kind called black and tan. ‘

Leone was passionately fond of ' all living things, and, as
the little puppy danced, brisk as a bee, about the room, she
could not helpadmiring it. I

“ I am afraid that it ‘would be too much trouble to he,
him here in the hotel,” she said.

“ Not a bit of trouble, ma’am, and he’s the best tem-
pered little hanitnal that ever was.” And u pips“, woke
he "was watching Leone, narrowly, with . cove" 813nm

it works,” Tulip said, examining the gun with great attention.

Angus rose to his feet, crossed the room, and commenced
to explain the peculiarities of the gun to Tulip. His back
was turned to the safe, where O'Connel was still on his knees
before it.

Hardly had Angus left his side, when O'Connel deftly
drew the key from the lock of the safe, and, with a small
ﬂece of wax, which he drew from his vest-pocket—appar-
ently provided for just such a chance as this—he took an
knpression of the key; Then he put the wax away, 1-.-

turned the key to‘ its place, and closing the safe-door, lock- ‘
ed it. " No, I fear I could not take care of him," Leone said.

EEK 1;:

fé—Erx'E—E. " —
._._._

....

 
'Ell ' “Have you changed the ‘ combination? ” Angus asked. “ way, he’ll take care of himself, m’mn , I
ii, “ No,” O’Connel replied, rising and handing him the key. "What's his name?" ‘ ‘ ~
. jg; “ You see how it works?" Mdntgomery said to Tulip, re- “ Mally, infant.” ‘ - 1 .. . ﬂ
having to the gun. “Melly! Why, what a strange name?” Lane said, ;.
" Oh. yes, perfectly.” Tells replied. wonder, " .:. .r.

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 gums” ,. ‘
sw_-s_...~‘-..a-

s
- '3
Sin.

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a. 1.4-.  

 
Hunted, Down; or, The League of Three.‘ 25-

..“ . I-
x

 
“Yesﬂt'is hodd, isn't it,‘ ma'am!” said the dog-fancier,
thoughtfully, he if the toddnsss. of..the.,dqg’s name had just
occurred to him. .l‘.‘..Yon‘see, malam, Melly is short for Mai-
per— Oh, Christmas! I’ve-done it now!" he cried, in ex-
citement, for, at the mention of the name, Leone, with a low
.1031)f hld fainted. "

“ What a cussed fool I was to blurt it out!" he cried, in
despair, as he bent over the senseless girl. “ I might
a-knowed that she ain’t made'ef iron, but just the most deli-
cate piece of handywork that old Mother Nature ever turned
out; and now I’ve killed her. You fool you!” and Pipgan
began to tear his hair in despair, while the puppy, astonished
attire-noise, set on itshsunches and surveyed the scenewith
wonder.

A low sigh came from the girl.

A glass of water was standing on the table. Pipgan.ran
to it, and then returning to Leoneleeide, sprinkled-the water
o'er her forehead. : - - v "

‘Slowly, Leone’s. senses came backﬁo hen, 

She opened her eyes, wearily. As her‘look fell..upon the
face of the dog-tancier,.she sheddered. 1.. '

“ I'm werry sorry-you’re sick, :me’amf.” he said.~humbly.

“ I—I suppose that it was the heat of the room," Leone
said. in nonfusipn; hereyusearching the tweet thestrangsr
as though she expected to read something written therein.
But she saw nothing in his features to excite her fears.

“ You're better now, ma'am t" he said.

“ Yes, much better," she replied: .

“ I’m very glad,” and Pipgan showed it in his face.
“ Do you think that you’d like the little dorg, melamrl’

" I do not think that Icould take care of him.” Then
Leone looked wisth into his face asnif she wanted to
say something more. But the dog-fancier pretended not to
notice the look. , r

“ It is a very pretty littledog,” Leone said, absently.

“ Yes, ma'am,” replied Pipgan. '

“ What—what did you say the dog’s name was?” Leone
asked, her voieetrembling, in spite of her eﬂorts to appear
calm and unconcerned,

“ His name, miemr’.’ .Strange to say, therdog-man seen- i

ed to hesitate, about entering the question.
.‘.‘.Yes..h18;nsma” repeatedILeow '
“ Many, short for Malper, ma’am," said the man, slowly,
and raising his eyes to the face of the girl. " ' “

 tried, tom-id .the taco at the dog-man, but
again the attempt was useless. “

“ It is a very  Leone said, slowly.

“ Yes, ma’am. I don’t. know who gave the puppy the
same. The mah'gthat I bought him from yesterday said
that was his,namp, and that was how I knew it,” the dog.
man explained. ‘

“ It is a very strange name," the girl, said, absently.

~'I‘o the,ka eyes of Pipgan it was plain that the young
girl's thopghl-e H93! neither of the dog nor of his name, but
far away.

“ Then,vau think. :that you don’t want to buy a dorgt"
Pipgan said, taking up the puppy and putting it away,
snugly, in one of his large pocketa

“ N 0, thank you,” replied Leone.

“ I axes you? 'p‘udon, Miss, 10;- disturbing you,” said Pip-
gan, awkwardly backing out.

Then the door closed behind him.

Once sgcure :from observation, Pipgan’s manner changed
entirely. .

Thoughtfully he stood, biting his ﬁngers.

“ Shall I?” he muttered. “ Why not? That’s the ques-
tion; why not? Anybody else would, why not I? Some
chapswould coin many a bank-note out of this gold mine.
How the name fetched her! Blessed if I didn’t feel sorry
for her, poor, young kitten; I wasn't sure about it; but,
now, I’d take my ‘davy" store any ' beak ’ in ‘ Lunnun’
town. What’s to be done? that’s the question. It will cost
me almatter. of titty, pepnds to use the cable and telegraph,
maybe;‘and titty pounds in gold is a good many dollars in
greenbacks. Buﬁasql said atone, why, shouldn’t I? I'll
think over it.” _ , V .

Then  Chris Pipgan took his way quietly out of the
hotel. 5 I " ,. ,
After the departure of the dog-fancier Leone remained mo-
tionless, like one in a mass. '

For mitten minutes she sat, ﬁxed as a statue; then she

suddenly rose and began, restlesaly-tappee up and down the .

“Whetseathismsast”hsemlelmsd. “Isthiseaiya

 
1.

strange coincidence, or is it a warning of danger? Shall I
tell Lionel? He! He will only laugh at me. Oh, what a
foolish child I am to fear! v I see a specter in every shadow,
like a school-girl in the dark. I should have stronger nerves,
for I will need them. I have a difﬁcult scheme to carry
out, and yet the thought of failure has never entered my
mind.” ' 'v ' '

Then Leone seated herself again at the window.

With the evening came the three young men, Angus Mont-
gomery, Tulip Roche and Lionel O’Connel. '

As Montgomery clasped the taper ﬁngers extended to
give him welcome, felt the soft pressure of the slender
white hand, and saw the eyes of, the young girl beam
with delight, he felt a subtle inﬂuence stealing over him.
It was like the poison of the ﬂowers, % lulled every sense
of sweet forgetfulness, and yet to forget—to sleep—-wasto
din. ,

But, Angus Montgomery did not resist the sweet, magnetic
inﬂuence , ,

In the glad smile of Leone he forgot Frances Chauncy and
her heart of ice.

The evening passed rapidly away.

'At ten the three took their departure.

“ What do you think of her?" asked O'Connel, carelessly,
as they proceeded through Twenty-ninth street.

“ The most beautiful woman that I ever laid eyes on!"
exclaimed Montgomery, in rapture.

“ What, Angus, as bad as thatr”'asked O’Connel, laugh-
ing. a  .

“ 0h, a clear case of love at ﬁrst sight!" cried Tulip, join-
ing in the laugh.

“ You may laugh as much as you please, gentlemen, but
it is the truth,” Montgomery replied.

“ What, that you are over head and ears in love with this
divine creature?” exclaimed O‘Connel.

“ Pshaw! you know I didn’t mean that!" replied Mont-
gomery; “ but, laugh as much as you please, I freely con-
fessthat if the heart of Miss Leone is still he own, I intend
to try and. win it.”

" Pistols and coﬁee!" cried O‘Connel, theatrically.

“ We’ll have to resign all claim 1" exclaimed Tulip, in a

tone of extreme sadness, and with a comic look of mortificar’

tion.

“Do, and both of -— you shall assist at the wedding!” cried
Montgomery, gayly. _

A peculiar expression ﬂitted across the faces of his com-
panions as aMontgvomery spoke, but in the darkness Angus
did not notice it.

-“ Come, gentlemen, join me in a glass of champagns'ibe-
fore you go home; drink to the success of my wooing!" ex-
claimed Angus.

“ With all my heart!” Tulip. cried.

“ I second the motion,” O’Connel added.

Then the three proceeded to Montgomery's house. With
the foaming champagne! in their glasses, the perfumed incense
ﬁlling the air, they p.edged the health of Leone, Countfss of
Epernay, and Angus Montgomery.

A second bottle followed the ﬁrst, and then the little party
broke up.

Angus accompanied his friends to the door, bade them
“ good-night,” and then retired to his chamber.

Bright were the thoughts of the young man, an'l high Were
his hopes.

The future looked clear and joyous. All the love that
was in his heart for the blonde beauty, Frances Chauncy, had
faded out, and in its place sprung up the ﬁery passion that
the passionate dark eyes of the beautiful'Leone Pad inspired.

Angus sat down by the window for a few minutes, looked
out upon the darkness of the night, and vaguely speculated
upon the future!

Then he proceeded to prepare for rest.

Angus turned the gas down low, and then went to bed.

It was some time before sleep came to him.

The face of the beautiful girl, Leone, danced l-efore his

closed eyes. Thoughts of her were in his mind and kept
sleep from him. _
1 But at last tiredinature exerted its power, and Montme
I opt. .
How long the young man had slept he knew not, when a
sudden stealthy noise aroused him.

He opened his eyes, and beheld two dark forms, their faces
concealed by black masks, standing by his bedside.
The gas, burning thinly, shed a weird light over as chan-

/ .
- s . < 4 . , i . - -
WW”_,__A_ _ _'_ 

's

ﬁ......- w-— W.,.... W W...”-

26“ Hunted Down; or,

The League of Three.

 
m J vﬁ!

Iontgomery would have cried aloud, but a gleaming dagger
at his throat checked his utterance. '

 
CHAPTER XIX.
 m mum’s omen.

l Mon-mount comprehended the situation at a glance. He
saw, though, that resistance was almost useless.

Then, before he had time to think what he should do, the
masked ﬂgure, standing by his side, pressed a damp sponge
upon his nostrils.

A peculiar incense ﬁlled the air.

Montgomery's senses reeled and wandered.

He realized that he was being put under the inﬂuence of
some powerful drug.

He attempted to struggle against it, but the eﬂ’ort was use-
less. He could not move.

Slowly, little by little, he sunk into forgetfulness.

Then all was a blank.

How long he remained in a state of stupor he could not
tell, but when, with a start and shiver, he opened his eyes,
the bright sunlight was streaming into his room.

Montgomery rose to a sitting posture and looked around
him.

The events of the night seemed like a disordered dream,
yet, when his glance fell upon the papers scattered carelessly
about the ﬂoor and the opened safe, he comprehended that his
dream was reality.

Montgomery hastily dressed himself, then proceeded to ex-
amine the room.

His own bunch of keys in the safedoor showed him how
the midnight plunderers had obtained access to his valuables.
They had taken the keys from his pocket while he slept un-
der the inﬂuence of the potent drug.

Montgomery examined the safe, amazed, and well he might
be, for he had been robbed of thirty thousand dollars in Gov-
ernment bonds.

For a moment after making the discovery Montgomery
wu stupeﬂed. He COUId hardly realize the extent of the
oss.

Then the warning of the mysterious woman, who had
:alled herself the White Witch, ﬂashed across his mind.

Hen words were coming true.

The woman he loved had proved false to him; half hisfor-
tune was gone, and all within a month.

“ There is more than chance in this!" he muttered. " So
far she has predicted truly; is the rest of her speech as true?
Am I fated to lose the other half of my fortune? Will my
friends prove false to me? Forewarned they say is fore-
srmed; but the warning has been of little service to me. I
must send for a detective at once and try to capture these mid-
night visitors before they can dispose of their plunder.”

Then the eyes of the young man were attracted by an open
paper upon the ﬂoor. He picked it up and examined it. It
was his insurance policy of his house. Carelessly, he noticed
the date.

“It expires on the tenth of October. I must see that it
is renewed in season,” he said. “ If I have three enemies,
as the White Witch says, they might take a fancy to set'ﬂre
to my house some dark night, and I can’t afford to lose ten
thousand more. Fifty thousand dollars in two weeks is no
joke even to a man worth a hundred thousand. If this goes
on, another month may see me a beggar.”

A cloud darkened Montgomery‘s brow. Despite his effort
not to think of it, the mysterious warning of the White
Witch was ever in his mind.

“ Now for the detective,” he said, as he sat down to his
desk and penned a hasty note.

Then he proceeded down-stairs, gave the note to one of the
servants with an order to deliver it instantly.

That done, he sat down to breakfast. He had looked his
roormdoor after him so that no one could disturb any thing
until the arrival of the oﬂicer.

During breakfast, Angus put a few careless questions to
the old servant who attended to his wants and who had su-
preme charge of the household.

He soon discovered that no one in the house, except him-
self, had any knowledge of the midnight visitors.

Soon after Angus had finished his meal the detective lb
‘ rived.

The oﬂcer was a tall, portly I“. 'm‘ ‘ “u M “d
a clear, blue eye.

 
1m

Angus conducted him to his sleeping char-bu all h,
brieﬂy, explained why he had sent for him.

“ Robbed, eh?" said the detective.

“ Yes. ”

“ Twenty thousand dollars!"

“ No, thirty thousand.”

“ Any thing else gone?”

“No, not that I can discover"

“ Two men?"

‘0  ﬂ

“ How were they dressed?

“ Well, I can hardly say; the gas was burning very dimly‘
and about all I could see was the outlines of their forms.”

“ Dark clothes?"

‘6 Yes.”

“ Were they large or smell?”

“ The man who stood by my bed and who applied the
sponge was, I should judge, something about my own size.”

“ And the other?”

“ I did not notice him enough to see.”

“ What did they have on their heads?”

“ Felt hate, I think.”

The ofﬁcer was noting Xoetgomery's answers down in his
note-book.

“ Not sure?"

I! No.”

“ The man by the bed held a knife to your throat!”

ll Yes. H

“ Did you notice his hand!”

“ Yes.’

“ Ah,” and the detective listened with increased atten-
tion. “ Was it large” or small! looked like the hand of a
workman or the hand of a gentleman not soiled by labor?"

“ I can’t tell you; the hand was covered by a heavy, dark
glove. ”

The oﬂicer stroked his beard, reﬂectively.

“ Gloved, eh! Well, that’s something new."

“ So, of course, it is impossible for me to say whether the
hand was large or small, coarse or delicate!” *

“ Yea” The officer was perplexed Again he stroked
his beard. “ Have you any idea how they got into tht
house?" .

ts No.”

“ The front door all right this morning? locked and bolted
as usual i”

“ Yes; there is no bolt, by the way, only a lock.”

“Well, I must say, Mr. Montgomcy, that this is about
as neat an affair as I have ever heard of," the cities: said,
thoughtfully. “ A very neat job. Have you numhers oi
the bonds?”

“ Yes, here in the safe.”

Then Angus opened the little tin 'box in which he had
kept the record, together with some other papers, but so m.
astonishment, the list was gone.

“ Perhaps it’s among some of these papers on m 100,."
suggested the omcer.

Vain was the search, however; the paper was not to be
found.

“ Perhaps your broker has a list of the numbers,” said the
omcer.

Angus shook his head.

“ No hope there,” he replied “ The bonds 1 got from
Catlin, who abscondcd a short tire ago, if you remember—- '
the Wall street broker."

The oﬂlcer nodded his head. He remembered tho-circum-
stance.

“ The rogues must have found the list and carried it all
with the bonds.”

" Well, it looks like it, sir,” said the detective, slow),

“ It is a bad business.”

“ Very bad."

“ I don’t perceive how I could idonﬂf m to n,
if I caught the rascals with it.” y y p m. Q"

“ No, it would‘be diﬂicult.” replied the cam,

“ Can you advise me how to proud 1,, “lump
asked Angus.

" We.., Mr. Montgomery, to tell the honest truth, I can't
This little affair just beats me,” replied the detective, can
didly. “ I have heard of, and come across, me neat join
in my time, but this jest takes the rag oil of all of 'em
Your servants are all square, eh!” v ,

“ I think so. I have only four, and they hen been with
me for years,” Montgomery replied. ‘

“ Well. whoever did this little stroke of business was sat

 
.. no... ‘vMA M

rev

rt.“

Hunted Down; or, The League of Three. 27 '

 
m rY I I 1
dently well acquainted with your house, because strangers
to the premises wouldn’t have risked such a bold game. In
the ﬁrst place, they knew that you had the bonds in the
safe; second, they knew about the time you went to bed,
and that you carried the key of the safe on your key-ring.
It would be pretty hard for them to learn all this without
a good deal of spying, and perhaps with the assistance of
some one in the house.”

“ I think that all my servants are trustworthy,” said
Montgomery, with a clouded brow. The words of the
omcer were raising strange suspicions in his mind. Sus-
picious that but an hour before he would have laughed
8t.

“ You can’t always tell who to suspect and who not,” re-
plied the detective, sagely. “Why, you’ve no idea, Mr.
Montgomery, how many robberies are committed with the
aid of the servants. Take a good-looking servant-girl for
instance. She meets a dashy young feller with plenty of
jewelry, somewhere. He makes all sorts of love to her, and
through the girl ﬁnds out all about the habits of'the family;
if they keep their silver lying round loose, etc. The girl
never dreams why her nice young man is so inquisitive; and
so some dark night the house is robbed, and nary a clue left
for us oﬁlcers to work on. The girl loses her galliant young
man, and wonders why "

“ I don’t think that there is any thing of that scrt going
on in my household, because both my female servants are
married,” said Montgomery.

“ Perhaps the male servants have some intimate friends,”
suggested the emcer. ,

“ I will endeavor to discover the truth about that," re-

plied Angus. " Any thing else you can suggest? Of course
will gladly pay a large reward for the capture of the

robbers or the return of the bonds."

“ You will be more likely to get the bonds than the
thieves," said the detective, signiﬁcantly. “ The only thing
I can think of now is to put an advertisement in the papers
and offer to negotiate for the return of the bonds.”

“ That will be ‘compounding a felony,’ eh!”

" Oh. bless you! that’s common enough!” exclaimed the
emcer; “ but I'm afraid that there isn’t much hope. I'll
keep my eyes on two or three of the gentlemen who operate
in the bond-robbery line, and if I ﬁnd one of them unctnn-
mon flush, I'll jest drop on him. Perhaps I may light on
the right man by accident.”

Then the detective took his departure.

Montgomery paced up and down the room for a few min-
utes in silence.

‘f Can it be possible that the wild story of the League of
Three has a tangible foundation—that three men are striking

'these terrible blows against me? It seems impossible, and

yet—I am puzzled!" . ..

Again Montgomery paced up and down the room. His
brow was clouded; his lips ﬁrmly compressed.

“ Would to heavenfthat I could see this" strange woman
again!" he exclaimed, suddenly. “ Perhaps I am a fool to
allow this matter to occupy my mind to such an extent, and
yet her words seem ever ringing in my ears. She said, too,
that a woman who loved me better than she did her own life,
was fated to bring me to ruin. Can she mean this beautiful
French girl, Leonel And at that time, too, I had never met
her. This looks like reading the future. Pshawl it' must
be chance. I am as great an idiot to think of this stupid
masquerading frolic as any old woman predicting fortune and
misfortune from the dregs of a tea-cup.”

Montgomery reasoned well, and yet he did not convince
himself. -

The predictions of the mysterious woman had some true
so far, but the worst yet remained unfulﬁlled.

 
w l

CHAPTER xx.
m “courses” are m mm

A was went by, and Montgomery’s search for the masked
men who had so mysteriously robbed him had been a fruit;
less one. .

In the week he had called twice upon the beautiful girl
who had so strangely bewitched him.

At each interview the charm grew stronger and stronger.

Montgomery fancied, too. that Leone looked with eyes of
fever spas him. . -

 
ﬁrm

It was on a pleasant Saturday afternoon that O’Connel and
Leone sat together in the apartment of the latter.

O’Connel had just entered the room. His face was ﬂushed
with triumph, and he ﬂung himself carelessly into a chair.

“ Well, Leone, our bark sails smoothly on the tide; we
have done well, girl, and now we must hasten and complete
our work.”

“ What do you mean ?" asked Leone, slowly, a peculia.
light shining in her dark eyes. ’

“ Why, that the net is closing around the prey.”

“ You mean Angus Montgomery 2"

“ Yes; he loves you, Leone."

“ I know it,” said the girl, sadly. . g

“ Ah! you do? Has he, then, deolared'his passion!”

“ With his eyes, yes—"

“And his lips, no; ehl"

“ Very true." .

“ And you are as deeply in love with him as he is with
you?”

“ Yes," 510 wly and sadly came the confession from the red
lips of the girl.

“ Leone, I've half a mind to let you have this man.”

“ You have?” and the girl looked at him with eager eyes

“ Yes, after I have done with him. See how generous I

am!” and O’Conuel laughed as he spoke.
“ When you have done with him?"

“ Yes; don't imagine that I‘m going to strike at his life;
oh,'no! Two more blows I aim at him and then he’s all
your own." .

“ He would despise me if ,he knew the cowardly part that
I am playing,” Leone murmured, bitterly.

“ He will never know it unless you choose to tell him
yourself," O’Connel replied. “ These two blows will crush
him to the earth, a ruined man; then he must leave New
York—it is necessary for my plans. His presence here will
defeat my aims. Let him ﬂy to the Great West, where
a future awaits the strong-armed man who is willing to wrest
it from the bosom of the prairie. A You can go with him. I
will permit it, give you back the pledge that binds you to
me. Nay more, I'll give you money to start you in your new
life. Come, Leone, is not my offer a fair one?" '

“ Yes, for you.” There was a little bit of sarcasm in the
tones of the girl that stung the keen-witted adventurer.

“ For 'me, eh?” and O’Connel's lip curled as he spoke.

“.Yes; I will say frankly what is in my mind," replied
Leone; “ I never yet saw you show one little bit of merc to
any one that was in your power, and I did not believe 31a:
it was in your nature."

“ But do you not believe it now?" he asked.

“ If you are not deceiving m'e—”

" Why should I deceive you?” he cried, hastily. " Don‘t
be childish, Leone. Whatever my faults may be, deception
is not one of them, unless, lewd, I haye an object to gain.
Now then, what can I gain by pretending to give you up to
this man?” '

“I can not tell," replied Leone. “ You attain the end
you aim at by devious and secret paths. I can not follow

on."
y “ And yet you have known me many years, Leone.”

“ Yes, and yet I do not think that I know you. You are
changing, Lionel. You have always pursued your foes with
a bitter and an undying hatred, and now—" '

“ I am .willing to let one of my foes escape me,” be said,
ﬁnishing the sentence. “ Even more than that; I am willing
to give him the woman who has been my companion through
many long years, clouded by suffering. Who has been like
a guardian angel to me. The girl who toiled all day long as
a menial for the scanty pittance that I might throw away in
the evening, in one little hour, at the gaming table. See
how noble I am! Why, I' give him a treasure! You would
work your ﬁngers to the bone to keep him from want, and
why? because you love him! What mystic charm is there
in that passion? I have never felt it. I never saw the we-
man yet that I would make myself a slave for; nor the wo-
man, excepting you, who would toil for me. Why is it that
you have done sol Have you loved me as you new love
him?”

Leone shook her head in reply.

“I thought not,” he said with a cynical laugh. “Why
then have you clung to me in all my desperate fortunes with
ﬁdelity?”

“ Have you so soon forgotten the bond that binds me to
You? You reminded me of it when you forced me to aottho

\
.———-_-~—<m—_.--J

 
‘ ‘ e ~m$§§sa_

--.._.~4;-...‘9,... ..., , a“...

 
28 , Hunted Down; or,

part of a siren and lure Angus Montgomery to his ruin,” she
said with bitter accents. 

“ Oh, that, is it, eh?”

u Yes. it

“ Because you pledged your word?”

as Yes.» '

“ And you believe in keeping your word?”

“ Yes; do you not?"

“ When it suits my purpose to do so," he replied with
a careless laugh; “ otherwise no. Then you will hold to
your word?" ' '

“ Until you release me from it, yes," answered Leone,
ﬁrmly.

“ Leone, listen to me,” said O’Connel, after remaining

‘ silent for a mement, apparently in deep thought. “I will

give you back your word on the onepondition, that you, will
play your part in this little comedy of my contriving to. the
end. Then, my designs accomplished, in reward for your
services, I Will release‘you from your pledge. You shalibe
free to go where you. please and with whom you please; with
Angus Montgomery, if you like.” ‘

Leone's countenance was flushed with joy at the words.

“ You are not decéiVing me?" she exclaimed.

“ No, I’ll keep my promise,” he replied. Then he look-
ed at her for a mement, an odd smile upon his face.
“ Why, Leone, you seem to be overjoyed at the prospect of
leaving, me."

“ I will notdeceive you; I am,',’ replied the girl, honestly.”

“ All the old love gone?" I ' J ‘

u YasIn‘

“ And you love meno longer?"

Again Leone shook her head.

4: No, ch,”

as Yes.»

O’Connel made a wry face.

Leone was candid but not complimentary.

“ Perhaps it is better so,” he said, quietly. “And new
that we have settled this little matter we'will,‘proeee‘d, to ar-
range the programme for the future.” '

“ What is to be done?” Leone asked.

“ You know that I have told you to try and make this‘
young man love you and yet not give him achance to declare
his affection?" ‘

“ Yes, I have performed the task. He does love mesnd
yet he has not declared his‘passion," Leone said.’

“ Now then, you must change your tactics. He must de-
clare his love. and your—well, you can speak the truth; I

know that it will be agreeable to you,” said O‘Connel, with I

a covert sneer.

Leone blushed crimson and cast down her eyes.

“ You are shortly to have a great change in your fortunes,,”
continued O'Connel. m ‘

Leone looked up in astonishment.

“ You are the daughter of a French count, you know.
Your venerable papa was killed at Saarbruck at the head of
his regiment. Your property in the north of France has
been managed by your father’s steward and the income from
it sent to you.” \

“ Why do you repeat this tissue of lies?" asked the girl.
her lip curling in scorn. '

“ I thought, perhaps, that you had forgotten your histmy,‘
replied O’Connel, with his usual bafﬂing smile.

“ I have not."

“ Ah, well; Leone, Countess of Epernay—or to speak
more correctly, Viscountess of Epernay, for you are the
daughter of a count and not his wife—we are still‘keepi‘ng
up the fable, you know. A great misfortune has befallen
you.”

“Indeed?” Leone saw that the cunning, wit of the ad-
venturer had in reserve some clever device.

" Yes, a terrible misfortune,” said O'Connel; “ those horri-
ble Prussians have eaten up all your property." '

Leone looked at O’Connel in astonishment.

“ I do not understand—~"

“ Of course not; wait and you shall. When I say that
they have eaten up your property, I mean: that they [have
destroyed it. The French troops retreating before the Ger-
man army occupied your chateau and endeavored to make a
stand there. Their action, brought on a battle—a terrible
1581“. 3nd the result was that your beautiful chateau was
burnt to the ground, your domain devastated and destroyed,
and you are now a beggar;, a stranger, too, in a strange
land.” Then O’Connel paused. looked at Leon’s 
be and W '

 
The, League of Three,

“ And, am I totell this story)".

" Yes, of course. "

“ But the object't”,

“Only a whim .of mine." “mammal. 

" But I do notunderstsndl" . exclaimedtlvelmp, in Monday
“ I will explain. Thisstory is 1119M“) be,told sinuses,”

it is for the future. First, you leadJMontgomery to. tell you,

that he loves you—declare the passion that is ragipgzzin his
breast. . Then you will, tell him that. you return Shiqloves—
the truth, by the way, Leone.”

Again the girl cast down her eyes befgrehis speering 
and the warm blood ﬂushedhegwhitexchﬁek, ‘

'“ And after enjoying the happiness, that these mutual
vowswill, give, for a,fe.W days. the» yopmiillreceiye a, latter

from France which will relate all the, melancholy particulars“

of the destruction of yourianceatral hornet:l quitinued1 ,O’Qons
nei. , “ You will be deeply affectedat thejnewsg‘oflpourse,
you'will tell your amanced, husbaadhfqruhlontgomery will
occupy that position ’by’that timefall the terrible news;
that you are penniiess, far from horneand, friends”? '

'“ Yes?” Léonefs brow contracted-“she began to see the
drift of ‘ the scheme. ‘ I

“ Of course there is butone wayppen to: him—”

“ You mean that I am .to robthimp'o‘f "his, money, and give
it to you?” cried Leane, indignantly.. '

“ That‘s an new, were that yen are veins." replied. O'Con-

nel, coolly. “ Beeliﬁsjiyod could/hardly take from him“

more than a couple of “hundred dollars without appearing to
"asses .qu his. assessing 99M stile I 19': a, paltry
sum like that!" ' ' ‘

“ What, tgenjs {the} scheme}?

“ He wi

com .vulsss,.m9ney. cannot Buta it, he, win 4.3g}. “Wank
cheek and leerszit- with. so“. ya}! mum it, out! minimum
‘M‘JW think Wmﬁuﬂiw for your wanted"

“ But m“ 11- d° amendment”. “iii Issue is A  v

“ Then you [will giye, the  m‘lmg'f _

“ What Will, you: demurrer. . '

“ 011. WP its"). 1003,85? replieq.0,'9qnnel, cement»,

“ I! thiﬂ not .8 trick-ea  w

.« Oh, what a. thing suspicion. is!" OiConnel eaclaimeda

“hwhatnsecau I put the check; to! When he. signs..that,..
check he will be a ruined man. What further  can.

I do him when my aimisvtoswnsiﬂife. and «an. 091x,“
his . fortune r'f

“Well, as you please; you are my master,”_sa_id Leone”
slowly andgsadly.»

“ Uni-i1 I 109153 you Nth; m otAssw Montgomery.”

 
O EAPTER XXI.
morass snow.

Lama: did not reply.

O’Connoi watched her for a few.moments in silence.

“ Leone.” he said. suddenly. “ do yon-expect. m, M.
before evening?” »

“ No,” she replied.

“ And this evening."

“ Yes.” 0

as Montgomery?”

u Year" and again the rich color deepened in theoheeks of
the girl.

H IJeone, I‘m utterly worn out. Kay. 1 motor: your sbfa
for an hour or so?_ 1 was up. all. last .nightii’,

“ Throwing your money away at the gaming-table again,"
said the girl, disdainfully.

“ Yes and no, bath in a breath!” replied O’Connel, in his
careless way. “I waa.a.devpl¢°,.§t the ,shrine of la belle
goddess, Fortune, but I” didn't throw my money away. On
the contrary; “10 Mk lade'lmlled on me and’i’wn'largely.
Fo‘rtqne’is rightly represented by a woman. for she smiles
the maid the, mshine and tum her'b‘a'ck' in’ sea; 31,83:
upon the‘ peer wretch in the shadow," ‘andtrith'thiﬁz‘not r’e
complimentary 'speech—as far as, the female ,sex 
corned—O’Connel stretched himself out upon 'the’ sofa. " 1‘
Mun; sofa sat'down on it." ' ‘

With‘lier mus hand she smoothed bask u» an
curls um clustered on the bread, pals 

Leone left the window, and drawing a, rocking-chair» up

.rress. messed?” 19,9549“; will left at.
ﬁrsts ' thenrsﬁiarwsrﬂ—sﬁet.rspeated, praise, 3599, mi ygqn- .
sent to receive some slighb assistance from  '. 1,3”, “mm. _

\i""

 MW, .3,

 
V"I

Hunted Down; or, The League of Three. 29

 
As the young men lay, extended at full length upon the
sofa, he seemed a perfect representative of glorious man-
hood.

The quick, expressive muscles of the face were now in re-
pose. There was a mental beauty "in the features that one
would never have dreamed of when’the eyes were open ' and
the lips moving.

“ Do you think your words ,apply to me, Lionel ?” asked
the girl, toftly' bending ever' hitu‘, her hand tangled in the
crispy, silken locks.

O'Oounsl opened his eyes and looked up into the’ beautiful
face, bent down sd near his own. ,

“hone,” he‘s'aid, after a moment‘s pause, ” there are ex-
ceptions to every rule. You are an angel, if EVH‘ there was
one on this earth. I am not worthy to be by your side, yet I
have forced you to do my will, to aid me in my desperate
schen‘ses. I am sorry that I am obliged to do so, but I can
not help it. Fate has placed you in my power; you We
serve me. "The *day, though,'is‘ not 'far distant when you
will be the happy wife of the 'man' that you love so ,well.
No more perilous sellout“ then, nomere the ‘ sea-sick bark ’
will “dashed the Wg'r‘dcksf'all‘will be peace, rest'hifd
love. Is not the future, bright, Leone, after all the sage:
and dummies the past?”

“ Yes," murmured the girl, slowly. I 1

" Keep-upyourhe'art' them' bear with my unyielding tem-
per 'but a row west: iiidre-‘F-p‘erlia‘ps only a few days—Lend
then you shall'enjoy the blessings of a pure and hblf love.
i know that sucli a‘ love does exist, and transforms'ea'rth into
beaten, although I *have‘never felt it. ”

“And pefhdps I’nev‘er‘shall,“sdld Leena.

“ Why, what can prevent it? I know that the mini to
whom you'hawe‘gmn‘your heart‘ loves you in return. Know
that he'fwifl  hurry you?

“ Will he. if he knows the past!" whispered Leone, bend-
ing her head until hordes-k looks mingled with the golden
curls of'D'Cennels

“ Thlt ll a di chit questib'n'to 'answer,” said O’Connel,
thMthlly.' ‘ f 'he' lov'es you as well as I think he does,
he will. Be will/forgive all, take you to his heart and cher-
ish you as you deserve to be cherithed.

“on, if '1"qu don"think'sol” m‘umiured the girl,
sadly. .
 hoover know the past! It is buried in
our breasts. No power can dig it u . I shall hold my
tongue, and of course you will yo rs," O'Connel said,
quickly. ‘

“ M’hiﬁ‘wlthoitt lllﬂ knowing of' the pest?” asked the
girl. a shudder shaking her alight form.

“Usually,” replied‘O‘Gooael, quickly. “ What‘ hes he
to do with your past life? Nothing! Make him so happy
in the remains: no will never dream-er asking in regard to
the past." 1 I .

"But would it not be cruel to deceive him?" Leone asked.

“ All women deceive men‘in something. ”

“ I can never deceive him," said Leone, ﬁrmly.

“ No?" said O'Connel, in astonishment.

“ Do you think- that I could be happy With him with this
terrible secret tearing at my heart?” she asked, her face
plainly showing how deeply she was affected. “It would
turn to torture all the bliss that his love could give me.”

“ Why, you foolish girl, would you tell him every thing!”
said O'Connel, in wonder.

“Yes; before he marries me he shell know all my past
life. If he chooses to forget and forgive, then his love will
make me happy," replied Leone.

“ Well, it wouldn‘t make any difference to ma “said
O’Connel, thoughtfully. “It is not your fault but mine.
By the way, Leone, now that I think of it, just you keep
this matter quiet until you are away from New York. Mont-
somery. even if he choOses to overlook it, may have some
insane idea of calling me to an account for my share in
it" '

°‘ I promise," replied Loone.

“ Do you know, hone,” said O‘Connel, suddenly, and
000"” “P in “‘0 Bll'l'l flee, “ there was a time when I
thought that you would never love any one in the world but
me? You have changed.” ‘ \

" Yes,” and Leone pushed back the yellow curls and ill
pgintsd a soft kiss upon the massive, white forehead.

“ You no longer love me!”

" No.”

" What his changed you!"

“ a, use.“ canyon-0t sue-thud the rid sorrow-
fully.

.— .- ,w' .,

 
L

A peculiar expression shot across O’Connel’s face, then be
closed his eyes.

“ Let me sleep, Leone, that’s a good gir ,” he said.

Silence held possession of the room.

In ﬁve minutes, Lionel O'Connel was fast asleep

Leone watched him with an anxious look, resting her
arm upon the head of the sofa and her head upon her
hand.

For fully a quarter of an hour Leone remained motionless,
watching the sleeper.

Then O’Connel turned restlesst on his side, his lips opened;
he muttered a name. Leone bent her head to listen.

O'Connel was talking in his sleep.

 
At ﬁve o’clock O’Connel awoke, and then took his do
parture.

coming out of the hotel, he met Tulip and Stoll.

I He joined them and all three went down the street to
gether. W t

“ Every thing going all right?" I asked Stall, cautiously.

“ Yes," replied O’Connel. “ Why, man, the game was in
our handsfroin the ﬁrst.” I ,

“ One thing astonishes me,"  Tulip.

“ And what is that?" asked O‘connel.

“ About those bonds. I felt sure that Montgomery had
at least thirty thousand dollars’r worth. "

“ And yet there was but twenty in the safe,” said O’Con-
nel.

“ Are you sure that you securedallh’f ked Stoll.

“ Yes, I think so; but still, there mig t have been some
secreted in the ‘safe that I olerlooked in the hurry of the
search". replied O‘Connel, thoughtfully. “ But, Sign," he
continued, “ did you succeed in disposing of all of them?"

“ Yes, I've got the money in my pocket,” replied the
broker. “ We’ll go in somewhere, get a private roam, and
then we can settle up the transaction.” ,

“ Montgomery hasn’t made much noise about his loss,"
O'Connel said.

“ He hasn’t made any at all,” observed Tulip. “ Probe-
bly, though, he has the detectives on the watch."

“ And much good it will do him," said Stall, with a coarse, 
chuckle.

“ It was a lucky thought of yours,.O’Connel, to steal the
list, containing the number of the bonds,” Tulip remarked

“.Yes; if Montgomery had had the list, endlhad made
it‘ public, we couldn’t have put' a single bond on the market,”
said the broker.

“ We have played a bold game, and so far, we have been
very successful,” O'Connel said, thoughtfully,

“ Satan himself seems to aid us," observed Tulip; “ why,
Stall, Montgomery laid his bunch of keys down carelessly,
upon the table, and 000an picked them up withOut being
seen. 80 you see we secured entrance both to the house and
safe without trouble.”

“ Yes; but, gentlemen, have you ever considered that we
are rendering ourselves liable to go to the State prison at
Sing Sing?" said Stoll, with a shiver.

“ Not if we are true to each other,” replied O'Connel,
coldly. “ The one who betrays the league knows his fate.
Besides, nearly all the personal risk is over; one more blow and
then we do our work by deputy."

“ When do we strike the next blow!” Tulip asked.

“ To-night"

“ 80 soon?”

“ Yes, I am eager to ﬁnish the matter. It will not take
long now,” O'Connel replied. _ _

“ The sooner it is ﬁnished the better!" Stoll exclaimed.

“ You are resolved, gentlemen, to abide by our compact
and push the matter to the bitter end?" O’Connel said.

“ Yes,” Tulip replied, ﬁrmly.

“ Certainly,” added Stoll.

" Nothing but the complete ruin of this man can satisfy
our vengeance t" ,

“ Nothing else!” said Tulip, in a quiet way, but in a‘voice
full of determination.

“ My idea exactly," said Stall. ,

Few, to look at the three men, strolling so carelessly down
Broadway, would have guessed that they were plotting the
ruin of a men, who believed two of them at least to be his
frileigds. h.

s is sometimes a “go mm” , .

Angus Montgomery, after spending "A delightful evening
with Leone, the fair enchantress, whose beeuty'hed cast such
a spell over his heart, retired to rest early.

 
.._..P A. _ _

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30 Hunted Down; or, The Leagule Three.

 
Busy thoughts were in his mind, and he lay awake until
the clock struck twelve; than, slumber closed his eyes.

He had not slept an hour when he was suddenly aroused
from his slumbers by the startling cry of “ Fire!” coming
from the street below.

Montgomery leaped from the bed and hurriedly dressed
himself, as he felt sure, from the noise, that the ﬁre was
near.

He was about half dressed, when the old servant, who had
charge of the household, rushed into the room, without the
ceremony of knocking. ‘

Montgomery had turned up the gas on rising, and by its
light he noticed that the servant’s face was white with terror.

“ Oh, Mr. Montgomery!" he gasped.

“Well, what is it?" Angus said, coolly, drawing on his
ﬁrst boot.

“ The ﬂre—sir!” cried the servant, panting for breath.

“ Deuced near, isn’t it? They’re kicking up an awful row
in the street,” and Angus drew on the other boot.

“ Near! our'house is on ﬁre!”

“ The devil it is!” exclaimed Angus, astonished.

“ Yes, sir, and both stairways are in ﬂames. Our escape
is cut oil! We shall be burnt up!"

 
CHAPTER XXII.
uoxreomsar rs:an was now.

“ Wmn there is life,’there’s hope!" exclaimed Angus, not
in the least dismayed.

Then he hastily pulled on his coat, dragged the sheets
from his bed and placed them on his arm. 5

“ Come, I’ll show you how to escape!” he said.

Followed by the affrighted servant he went out into the
entry.

The smoke was coming up the stairway in dense masses.

Angus could plainly hear the devouring ﬂames crackling
1nd hissing below.

Angus, though almost stiﬂed by the smoke, led the way
to the hall bedroom; the tw0 Were in the second story. The
young man closed the door behind them as they entered the
little room. Then he threw up the wiudow and admitted
the fresh air. The street was filled with a howling multitude,
attracted by the ﬁre.

The window was just over the porch that covered in the
front door. The top of the porch was only some ten feet
below the level of the window.

Montgomery dragged the bedsteao up to the window,
fastened one end of one of the sheets to it, and threw the
rest of it out of the window.

By means of the sheet Montgomery and the servant de-
scended, easily to the top of the porch.

' Then Montgomery tied the second sheet to the ﬁrst, and
thus descended from the porch to the balcony in front of the
house.

Montgomery’s clear head and cool nerve had saved both
himself and his companion.

The two stood in the street and watched the fire.

It had gained such headway before the arrival of the en-
gines that the efforts of the firemen were directed solely to
saving the adjoining buildings. ‘

As Montgomery stood among the crowd gazing at' the
burning building and wondering what the next stroke of ill-
iuck would be, a hand was laid upon his shoulder.

He turned and found himself face to face with the insur-
ance agent who had written his policy.

" I’m sorry for you, Mr. Montgomery,” said the agent.

“Yes, my ill-luck is coming all together,” replied Mont-
gomery, with a clouded brow.

“Deuced unlucky!" exclaimed the insurance agent, who
was a portly little man, full of life and bustle; “by the way,
do you know that I’ve noticed as a remarkable fact in this
world. that when a man does have bad luck, it generally
comes all together? It’s like a wheel running in a rut; it
takes a long time to get it out."

“ That’s very true, Mr. Hindle,” Montgomery said, thought-
fully. '

“ I’ve always found it so.”

“ Another strange fact relating to this calamity. I put
my policy in my pocket ‘yesterday, intending to come down
to your oﬂce and speak ab0ut a renewal,” Montgomery said.

'vr s-<~‘l.‘,rt.o

 
“ Pity you didn’t—I speak now as a friend, not as an in
surance agent,” Hindle observed.

“ Why, what difference does it make?” Montgomery asked,
looking at Mr. Hindle with astonishment written on his face

The insurance agent returned the look. He was as muck
astonished at Montgomery’s speech as the young, man had
been at his.

“ Well, your loss wouldn't have been quite so heavy,” he
said, slowly.

“ It is not so very bad,” replied Montgomery, somewhat
puzzled to guess the meaning of the other.

“ Not very bad!" exclaimed the agent, opening his eyes ir
wonder. “Why it will be a total loss.”

“ Not”

“ No?” -

“ Of cOurse not i” exclaimed Angus, wondering at the ap-
parent stupidity of the insurance agent.

“ But why not?” Hindle began to think that the loss of
the young man had aﬂected his brain.

“ You are strangely forgetful, Mr. Hindle. You Ought
“the able to remember that I am insured for ten thousand;
you wrote the policy.”

“ You, insured for ten thousand!” exclaimed Hindle, get-
ting a little excited.

“ Of course,” replied Montgomery, unable to understand
why his words should produce. such an eﬂect upon Hindle.

“ You mean you were insured?”

“ No, I don’t mean any thing of the sort, I mean that I
am insured for ten thousand dollars in the company that
you represent. It was on the tenth of October, and to-day is
only the sixth,” Montgomery replied.

“ Good heavens! Mr. Montgomery, your insurance ex-

pired yesterday. It was out on the ﬁfth instead of the tenth. I
made a memorandum.” And the agent showed it to the
young man written in his note-book.

Montgomery read it with a calm smile.

“ You have made a mistake, Mr. Hindle; my policy does

not expire until the tenth. I am sure of it.”

“ And I am sure that it ex ires on the ﬁfth" said e agen
dog ediy. p ’ ’ “I ‘ ‘ t,

“ ow, I can convince you that you are wrong because I’ve
the policy in my pocket. I wasgqing to call upon you yester-
day in regard to it and took it from my safehbut for some
reason I neglected it.”

Then Montgomery took the policy ﬂ’om his ket, opened
i‘tl, said by the light of the ﬂames from the burni‘nzc house, read
on :

“ Tenth of October 1” -

There was just a little bit of triumph in Montgomery's voice.
He had been sure that the agent was wrong and that he was
right about the date. ‘ '

“Good heaven bless me l” exclaimed Bmdls in
ment, “1 can't be crazy—losing my memory.
look at i please.”

Then indie adjusted his eyeglasses and examined the pa-
per, carefully.

“ (300d gracious, Mr. Montgomery!" cried the agent in as-
tonishment.

“ What’s the matter i” asked Angus, astonished at his man-
ner. \

“ Why this date has been altered!"

“ What 1'”

“ Of coursei I will take my oath that I never made an A
like that in all my life. My It’s always have a loop at the top,
this one is straight u and down."

“ The date altered ” said Montgomery, slowly, and his face
looked gloomy and sad as he spoke.

“ Yes, I knew I could not be mistaken, for I saw the date in
looking over the books yesterday.”

“Altered!” Montgomery repeated, slowly. His mind was
vainly groping in the dark for some clue to this strange mys-
tery. ,

“ Yes; why, look yourself; can’t you detect a diaerenoe in
the writing? The word teeth is a clumsy imitation of my
handwriting, but not a good one by any means.”

Montgomery examined it carefully. He saw how true the
words of the agent. were. The date had indeed been altered.

“ But, how could this be done i” he asked, in blank dis-
may. .

“ Easy enough,” replied Hindle; “ the ﬁfth has been taken
out by acid and the other date written in its place."

" Yes, I have heard of such things,” said Montgomery,
slowly and mechanically. His thoughts were far away.

“ But I can not. understand the reason for such a stupid pro-
ceeding," said Hinkle, in wonder; “it is of no avail, for the
alteration can be detected at a single glance.”

“ Yes, it is plain enough to me now, and yet I did I“ notice
it before,” Montgomery replied. -

“You had no suspicion that there was any tnmg wrong
about it, that’s the reason. You only looked at it carelessly.
But, as I said before, this appears-to me to be a crime com-
mitted without any object." ’

“Not so to me; Ican see the object plain enough,”ld
Montgomery’s brows grew dark as he spoke.

“ And what is it?” asked Binkls, in wonder.

“ Tu ruin Ila!"

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“ Yea," responded Montgomery, hoarsely; “ I have foes who
are striking at me from the dark, and the blows are not aimed
at my breast, but, coward-like, they strike at my back. The
date of the policy was altered so that I should not have it re-
uewed. And then, the moment that it espired they set ﬁre to
my home. I was warned, but I did not heed the warning,
blind fool that I wasl But now. I’ll ﬁght these treacherous
villains l”

The insurance agent looked at Montgomery with wonder
visibly expressed in every line of his fat face. He began to
think that the young man’s misfortunes had turned his brain

“ Secret l'oeg ?” he stammered.

“ Yes, but I’ll hunt them down i” exclaimed the young man,
Iercely.

“ You think the house was set on ﬁre f"

‘ Yes."

“ Why not have the people arrested that you suspect?”

“ My suspicion is not proof,” replied Montgomery, moodily.

“Can I aid you in any way?"

’ No; I must ﬁght the battle alone. Good-night," and Mont-
gomery left the agent abruptly, and disappeared in the crowd.

Mr. Hinkle looked after the young man in astonishment.

“ Well, of all the mixed up pieces of business that I have
ever had any thing to do with, this’is the worst!” he ejaculated.

‘“ Secret foes ’--‘ blows in the dark '—I'm mystified."

And then the agent turned his attention again to the burn-
ing house.

Two men, dressed roughly in dark clothes, their coat-collars
pulled up around their necks, and their felt hats pulled down
over their foreheads, standing in a dark angle of the adjoin-
Iug buildings, concealed by the shadow, had overheard all the
nonversation that had passed between the insurance agent and
Angus Montgomery.

After the agent and Montgomery had separated, the men
rameL slowly rom the dark corner and walked down the
stree

“ Did you hear what Montgomery said 2" said the shorter
of the two, and by the voice we reco nize him as Tulip Roche.

“ Yes,” re lied the other, thoughtgilly. Tulip’s companion
was Lionel ’Connel.

“ He guessed that he has secret enemies.”

so Y“. s

“ Why should he guess that he has enemies?"

_ “ He not a fool. These blows are coming too quick and
heavy upon him to be the result of chance alone. Besides,
*he alteration of the insurance policy, that could only have
one meaning."

“We the] have to be on our guard, lest he discover that
these blows come from us."

“ How can he discover it t" O'Connel asked. “ It is the
tool that betrays the master; but we so far, have used none.
We have done our work ourselves. Each blow that we have
dealt him has come from our own hands.”

“ You forget the countess," Tuli said.

“ She will never betray Lionel ’Connel," replied the chief
of the League, decidedly. “ If we are true to ourselves there
is but little danger.”

“ But, this warning that he says he has received .’”

“ I understand to what he refers,” said O'Connel— “ a
mysterious woman, who called herself the White Witch, has,
by some strange accident, hit upon our very scheme. or
course it is by accident‘ alone, for our secret has been kept, I
am sure, by all of us. This meeting took place at the mas-
?uerad: in Newport, on the very night that we formed our
eague.

“ It is a strange coincidence." said Tulip, thoughtfully.

“ Yes; her warning and the alteration of the date has open-
ed Montgomery‘s eyes.”

“ Perhaps he wil escape us even now,” suggested Tuli .

“ What, esca e from the lure of Leone's dark e es? ah,
tnol Wh , Tul , he is so infatuated that he won (1 dare a
:rlver of re for or sake! A man of Montgomery’s cool, quiet
itemperament once inﬂamed by passion’s tires, is not easily
trestrained. bur next blow is more werfui than all the rest
combined, and less likely to fail. If:
«events do not prove them true.”

The not was closing, slowly but surely, around the doomed
anon.

rk my words and see if

 
CHAPTER XXIII.
'rwo manna non m ammo inn.

F0173 days after the burning of Montgomery’s house, he
had his affairs settled, and knew how he stood in the world.
He found that the insurance out had spoken the truth, and
that his insurance policy [13 indeed been altered. There
was no help for it, and the destruction of the house made him
{net ten thousand dollars poorer. 80 Montgomery sold the
ot whereon the house stood, turned into money his stocks
and dep0sited the proceeds in one of the down-town banks.
He determined to put his valuables out of the reach of his
enemies, if enemies he had.

Montgomery had thought long and earnest! over the

atraa hec of the woman who had call herself the
Whitﬁeifirtzﬁﬁ ﬁe could hardly believe that he had such de—

termined foes. It seemed more like a romance than reality.
Yes, see fact he could not dispute and that was, that, within

 
Hunted Down; or, The League of Three. 31

afew weeks, he had lost nearly all his fortune. Loss after
loss had fallen heavily upon him. It might be, though, that
it was only the caprice of fortune.

Montgomery Was puzzled. .

As he pondered the subject over, s bright idea ﬂashed across
his mind.

It he had foes, they were ﬁghting him secretly and in the
dark; why should not he try the same mode of warfare 1’

He thought of the shrewd little Englishman who had res-
cued him from the den in Baxter street. He would be just
the man for an allyl He was, apparently, shrewd and keen-
witted.

Montgomery determined to seek him, and if possible en-
gage his services. He remembered the address the stranger
had given; and so, one ﬁne afternoon, acting on the idea, he
found hims-zlf in front of the little English ale-house in Hous-
ton street, that displayed for its sign a bunch of grapes.

Entering the house, Montgomery inquired for Mr. Pipgan.

A waiter Conducted him upstairs to a little room where sat
the Englishman smoking a long pipe:

Pipgan instantly recognized his Visitor. He had an excel-
lent memory.

“ Sit down, sir; proud to see you," he said, offering a chair.

“ You remember me, then ?" Montgomery said, seating him-
self

“ Yes, sir; it ain’t often that I forgets a face ; leastways, one
that I care to remember," replied Pipgan, quickly.

“ Of course you remember the circumstances that led to our
acquaintance t"

“ I hope I ain’t putting it too strong when I say, raytherl”
exclaimed Pipgan.

“ I offered you a reward, but you refused to accept any
thin —”

“ ind I‘m just the same now," interrupted Pipgan. “ Why,
bless you, I’d ’a’ done as much for almost any one. .I neyer
saw a man in a tight place in all my life that I didn’t feel like
helping him out.” .

“From what I saw of you on the occasion I became im-
pressed with the belief that you arc a cool, shrewd fe110w "

Pipgan rinued at the compliment.

“ Well, can’t sa , you know," he said, in a reﬂective
sort of way. “ I ain t a block of ice, nor a cowcumber, you
know; but I think that I take things easy; and, as for being
shrewd, I know just abont enough to enable me to take care
of No. 1.”

“ You have already done me one service, and now I have
come to ask another.”

“ All right; I’ll do it if I can. As you Americans say, ‘ go
ahead .' ”

“ If you remember, on our previous meeting, I took you to .

be a detective ofﬁcer 1‘" . t

“ Yes, of course,” and Pipgan indulged in a quiet laugh.
“ Just to think of a little fellow like me being taken for a de-
tective l" and Pipgan laughed again.

“I judged so by the coolness and courage that you disp
pla ed."

‘¥Why, bless out" cried Pipgan, “it didn't require any
courage for to frl hten the ‘ Mouse ’-”

“ Eh i did you now the feliow’s name f" asked Montgom-
ery, in astonishment.

" Why—that is—yes, I saw him once across the water,"
said Pip an, a little confused.

“Ah, see! you remembered him!"

“ Yes, of course,” replied the Englishman. “ Well, as I
was a-saying, anybody jum in into the room would have
startled him. ' There ain't p no in chaps of his kidney.”

“ Now I require a second service at your hands. come
to you, because, from what little I have seen of your character
I jud e that on are just the man that I require.”

“ Véhat is it. f” Pipgan asked.

“ Before I can explain, I must tell you a little of my his-

to .n
ugipgan laid down his pipe and prepared to listen atten’

ve y.

“ One month ago, at a masquerade ball at Newport—that's
the Watering lace, you know—”

Pipgan no ded; he did know.

“ A woman dressed all in white and her face covered with
a white mask, accosted me," continued Mon omery. ‘f She
said that she was called the White Witch, an she predicted
that, within one month or one year, money, love and friends
would all forsake me.”

“ Yet. Of course, ‘ one month or one year,’ that’s what they
alwa s say,” observed Pipgan.

“ ut, the strangest part of the whole aﬂair is that the pre
diction is coming true," Montgomery said.

Pi‘ggan looked at his visitor in surprise.

‘0 lat?" I

“ The month has not yet ex ind—though it is nearly at an
end—and I have lost two-thi s of my fortune." _

“ The dickens you have I" cried the Englishman, with a
prolonged whistle.

“ The woman that I was engaged to be married to, has quer-
reled with me and the love has gone.”

Pipgan elevated his eyebrows n astonishment.

“ ut the friends f" _

“ As yet, I haven’t lost any, but the prediction referred
particularly to one man, and if all the words of the mysteri-
ous woman come as true as those that referred to the money
and love, the loss of my friend was the ﬁrst blow that fell up
on me.”

“ Then you haven’? said all that the White Witch said."

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32 IIunted Down; or, The League of Three. _

“ No; she further told me that there were three men who
hated me and desired my ruin; that these three men had
united together to com pass their object.”

“ Why, this is just like one of the stories that they prints in
the weekly papersl”exclaimed i’ipgan, in amazement.

“Yes, but this story—this fable, seems to be turning into
reality, and very quickly, too,” replied Mont emery.

“ A league of three,” said Pipgan, thoughtfully.

“ Yes, and she told me that one of this league was this man
who has been my bosom friend ”

“ Well. it’s an ugly case," said the Englishman, thought-
fully ; “ what do you want me to do ‘3"

“ Find out Whether this man is my friend or my foe."

“ It will be a difﬁcult job. I don’t see how I can do it,"
said Pipgan, with a shake of the head.

“ Dog his footsteps; find out who his associates are,” replied
Mont tnery, eagerly. .

" ell, I’ll try; but, I don't think that there’s the least
chance of success,” said the Englishman, donbtiully.

“ Make the attempt. I will pay well for the service i” ex-
claimed Montgomery, eagerly.

“ Time enough to speak about paying after I‘ve tried," re
plied Pipgan, carelessly. “ What’s his name i’”

“ Tulip Roche; here in this envelope you will find a paper
on which I have written all that I know in regard to his habits
and friends; it also contains his address. It may aid you."
And Montgomery gave the envelope to the Englishman.

“ Tulipl what a queer name!”

“ Yes; it was a whim of his father. When he was born,
‘Jn his left breast, just over the heart, was a mark shaped like

raw) ﬂower.”

“ ell, I’ll do the best I can.”

“ When shall I see 'on again?” '

“ Say three days. ﬁy that time I shall be able to tell who-
ther I can succeed or not.”

“ Shall I meet you here i?”

“ Yes, and if it s convenient, make it just about this time."

“ Very well."

And so the interview ended.

Montgomery walked up Broadway, his eyes bent thought-
fully upon the pavement.

Despite the action that he had taken, he could not brin,
himself to believe that Tulip Roche, the man that he ha
loved like a brother, had turned against him.

“ I have acted like a coward in setting a spy on him.” he
muttered, as he walked on; “yet, it is better to prove him in.
nocent’ than to have these thoughts of his guilt haunting my
brains. ’

Then Montgomery, happening to raise his eyes, beheld

Agatha Chauncy coming down the street.

The instant she perceived Montgomery she came straight
to him with outstretched hand.

“ 0b, Mr. Montgomeryl” she exclaimed, “ I wanted to see
you so much l” ‘ ,

The sight of the girl caused a thrill of pain to shoot, rocket,
like, through Montgomery’s heart. She brought back to his
memory the woman that he was striving so hard to forget.
True, he now despised Frances Chauncy, yet often when
alone, in the silent hours, when memory was busy in his
brain, her face would rise before him, and, like the specter in
the romance, would not down at his bidding. Then the
{bought would come, how happy he might have been irrher
ove.

“ Indeed?” Montgomery said, vniliug with a courtly smile
the agony that was in his heart.

“ Yes; I’ve something that I want to say to you,” and
Agatha seemed strangely embarrassed as she spoke.

“ I’m all attention, ’-Montgomery replied, wondering what
she had to say.

“I can’t tell you here, with all this crowd passing,” she
said, hurriedly. “ Will you walk down this street with me a
little way i”

The two were standing on the corner of Amity street.

“ Certainly,” Montgomery said.

Getting out of crowded Broadway they walked down the'
side street.

" Mr. Montgomery—excuse the question—but are you and
Frances ood friends 1’" she said, abruptly.

“Nefafontgomery replied, quietly.

“ Oh, I ‘am so sorry!” And as Montgome looked in
Agatha’s face he saw that there were tears in nor brilliant
dark eyes.

“ So am I ” returned Montgomery, honestly.

“ But, isn t there a possibility that you may become friends
again i'” she asked. -

“ No," Montgomery replied, quietly but ﬂrmly.

“ Oh, ,don’t say that l”

“ But it is the truth. Is this the subject that you wished to
speak to me about?”

“No—-I--" and Agatha hesitated and blushed up to her
tom les. Mont omery looked at her in astonishment.

'“ hat is it, t ten 1’”

“ Mr. Montgomery, will you be offended if I—I mean if—I—
Oh! it's so hard to sly what I do mean l” and Agatha blushed
dee er than before.

“ do not think'that you will oﬂend me by any thing that
you will sa ,” Montgomery replied.

“ Well, on I'll speak—now don’t be angry—I heard some
one as that on had lost nearly all your fortune, and that-—
well, thought that rhaps you might need money, and—41nd
I’ve twent thousan dollars that. papa left me in the bank,
“1—” an here Agatha broke down completely.

 
:ll:
4——

Montgomery was deegiy affected.
“ Agatha, ou’re the est-hearted girl in the world l” be ex-
claimed. “ understand what you mean, and if I really need-
ed it, I’d take the money that you oﬁer me in the same spirit
that’you tender it; but, thank Heavenl I’m not quite ruined
ct.
“Oh, I'm so giadl” and Agatha’s eyes danced with joy.
“ But, Mr. Montgomery, are you never coming to our house
sin?” .
“Montgomery shook his head.
“ But why not? both aunty and myself would be glad to see
ou; please come l”
“ Perhaps I will.” Montgomery could not withstand the
appealing look of Agatha’s dark eyes.
“I won’t detain you any longer; mind, you’ve promised to
come; good-by.” And with happiness beaming in her face
she left him.

 
CHAPTER XXIV.
m macros wn oau. Lon

Momonm watched her retreating form for sfew mo-
ments in silence. Like her sister Frances, he had guessed the
secret hid in the young girl’s heart. , ,

“She loves me," he murmured; “I am sure of it; I read
the truth in her eyes. Why is it, in all my '1“ that the girls
I love never love me in return, and that I do,” ever love the
ones that do love me? That is a mystery,”,‘and Montgomery
shook his head sadly. “ She is pretty; prettier far than her
sister, Frances, yet do not, can not love her. What a noble
heart she has, to offer so freely to share at ,f rtune with me
because she thought I was poor!" And M‘oh go'm'er'y looked
in admiration after the girl. “What iaplendid ,eyes she has.
By Jove l" and a sudden thought occu, ed to the young man;
" what a resemblance there is between her eyes and the eyes
of the White Witch! And‘now I think of it; if, this strange
woman is one of Agatha’sfriends, itis notw'o derful that she
should guess that the engagement between Fr aces. and my-
self would be broken OR, for Agatha probab'P' discovered, long
ago, that her sister did not care for e. v his' would be .an
easy and ‘a natural explanatiOn of thé 'ddie. ' |ut,' the loss of
my fortune! Ah, no, it is clearly impossible”, pt spy human
being could have foreseen that. Wil ‘thii mystery ever be re-
vealed? I suppose I’m a fool to allow it to ,w‘orl'yline. in this
manner, but I can not help it.” , _ , , ,,,, h _

Then Montgomery walked up the street :to roadw 1 again.

Joining the busy life-stream, he walkedi fowly ong, his
mind busy with the events of the past few w ks.

He reached Union Square. He was walking listlesst on,
withtiut an object, when he thought of the beautiful French
girl, I eons. . . .1

For the past week her conduct had puzzled him. ,‘At ﬁrst
she had seemed to look with eyes of favo'r‘otgn ,hitu, but, at
his last visit, he had noticed that she seem a structed and
full of reserve. . '

Montgomery resoiVed to visit Leone. . V , , ,

‘° I might as well learn my fate at once. I am fortune’s foot.
ball- perhan another stroke of disaster is in store for me?
Wei I abs 1 get used to this sort of thing if it keeps on much
longer," be said, coolly. V , y , . , ,  . , _

Arriving at the hotel, he sent up his card, and has few
minutes the servant conducted him to the parlor of the
“ Countess."  _ , , ,

Leone rose to receive him, a glad look in her eyes that did
not escape Montgomery’s notice.

“ You are quite well i" he said. _ . .

" Oh, (yes ” she replied, quickl . “ Pray be seated? "

Seats , ontgomery survey the beautiful girl hetero him
with eager eyes. Never before had she lwked so lovely.

‘fI am glad you came,” she said, the charming, innocent
smile light n u her face as the sunbeams light up the moon.
d  Vth 30‘ ’ ontgomery asked, his heart man; mid with

e t. . . , .

" ecause I am so lonely.”

“ Lonely f"

“Yes,” and Leone sighed as she spoke.

“ That is strange.” - , _-

" No, I am almost friendless in this great city."

“ Friendlessi you P so-pardon me i my tongue speaks the,
words that are in ,lljeart—so bezlttlfll .’ .,

Leone cast down is eyes ands light lush crimsoned her
cheeks at his ardent tone. . -.

“ I have very few acquaintances," she said, as if wishing not
to notice the compliment.

“ Is it possible f" >

“ Mr. O'Connel and oursclf are the only visitors I have.”

Sgounknew Mr. 0‘ noel before coming to New York 1"

es. a '

" Is it possible that we two lucky means are the only ones
ththenjoy your seciety?” '

es.

i

A]

“Do you know that I on ht tb be vs 'sslous'lof'it ..
O'Connel, or rather that I wot‘tld be wetsuit. ’h‘sd 'thé‘r‘lgilt'
who so?” said Montgomery, ear-nee ’. .'  ' ' A

“ Jealous,” murmured the girl, and again shd list down has‘
eyssYaudntho blush mantled her cheeks. '

8‘ I

“ Why 9” and Leone knew what the answer would he ‘

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Hunted Down; or, The League of Three. 33

 
" Because, Leone, I love you i”

n “ You love me,” she said, slowly, and her eyes sought the

cor.
“ Yes,” and Montgomer rose from his seat, approached the
low eas -chair in which zeone sat, and leaned. carelessly on
the bac of it. “ I have loved ou, Leone, almost from the
moment when ﬁrst we met. deemed it an infatuation,
struggled against it; but, it is more powerful than my will;
it conquers me. Leone, I love you, honestly, sincerely, truly.
You are not angry with me for loving you i”

“ N o,” murmured the girl, softly.

“ Oh, I thank you for that one little word,” and Montgom-
ery knelt by her side and looked with his bright, manly eyes
into the downcast face of the irl. “You see, I‘stoop to
conquer,’ ” he said, merrily. “ one, can’t you give me one
little word——-bid me hope 7"

“ You say you love me, An s r" Leone said, slowly, with
a shy glance into the earnest ace of the kneeling lover.

It was the ﬁrst time that she had ever called him by his
Christian name, and the heart of the young man gave a great
leap for joy when the sound fell upon his ears.

“ Say it, Leone? ' I will swear it, if you like 1" Montgomery
exclaimed, impulsively.

“No; there isn’t any need of that; I believe you,” Leone
said, quickly.

“ And may I hope?” pleaded the lover.

“ But, Angus, have you considered l”

“Considered what?’ he asked.

“ The shortness of our acquaintance; you have only known
me a little while.”

“ Yet I feel that I am as well acquainted with you as though
I had known you from childhood 1” he said, quickly. “ You
are the best and most beautiful of women!”

“ Are you quite sure of it i’” she asked, shyly.

“ One look at your face would convince any one.”

“ Of what? that I am pretty or good I"

“ Both l”

“ I may have a very bad temper."

Montgomery shenk his head.

“ You do not believe it I"

at No."

“ Not even if I say so I”

“ Yes, but you do not say so,” said Montgomery, quickly.

A charming smile rewarded the lover’s faith.

“But, remember that I am almost a stranger to you; how
can on tell what ,mgepast life has been 9"

“ believe you to a good, pure girl,” answered Montgom-
ery, quickly.

“Suppose some one should telidyou to the contrary t"

“ I would not believe them! exclaimed Montgomery,

ﬁrmg.
“ ut, if they produced proofs ?”

For a moment Montgomery was staggered. A cloud gath-
ered on his brow, but a sin 1e glance into the beautiful face of
Leone and the cloud vanls ed even as the morning mists ﬂy
before the sun.

“ Why do you torture me with such questions i” he asked,
reproachfully.

“Is it not my duty to tell on the truth?” asked the girl,
turning her face away from t e gaze of her lover. .

“The truth, yes; but wna; ;.u have hinted at is not the
truth. You do not say that it is, do you t”

“ And if I say that it is f” murmured Leone, still keeping
her face averted from Montgomery’s gaze.

“ If ! Leone, look me in the face, please."

Slowly, Leone turned her face toward her lover.

Mont emery looked up into the beautiful face; saw the
great, b ack eyes shining, full of truth and love, lustrous with
emotion. To his mind t was the face of a saint rather than

that of a mortal. .

Montgomery took her hands in his. She yielded them up
without resisting. The soft, white hands, so perfect in their
beaut , lay motionless within his broad palms.

“ ow, he said, “ palm to palm and eye to eye, look me
in the face and tell me that you are unworthy of my love, if
you can t"

A moment Leone seemed to struggle to reply; the beauti-
ful face became sad; the soft eyes looked pleadingly into his;
the muscles of the mouth quivered, and then her head sunk
down upon her breast avoiding Montgomery’s gaze.

“ You do not speak!" Montgomery exclaimed, softlyi “ you
can not say to me that you are not worth of my love.’

“ You are right,” murmured Leone, “ can not.”

“ And I know the reason."

“ Yvon do i” and Leone raised her head in surprise.

as ea")

“ it is because—because I can not give on pain l”

“ Leonel” exclaimed Montgomer , h f in reproach, “ it
is because it would not be the truth.’

“ And you ion me even when I try to dissuade you from
iovin me?” she murmured.

“ ﬁes; were all the world to tell me that you were false,
and your voice alone say the contrary, I would believe you
against all the world i"

“ Oh, Angus l” she murmured, faintly.

“ You love me i" he exclaimed, softly, rising and still clasp-
in her by the hands.

ﬁ Y“.

And in an instant she was pillowed on his hm

Gently, he raised the little head with its wealth of ebon hair.
One long, lingering kiss, heart to heart, soul to soul, and Leone
~her bosom throbbing wild with joy, weak as a child-’Lclung
badly to Montgomery’s breast-shin premised wile.

\

 
The shades of the evening warned the lovers that the hour
of parting had come.
A dozen kisses, each one sweeter than the former, and they
arted.
D As Montgomery descended the stairs, his brains aching with
joy, one of the servants accosted him.
“ Dis yer Mr. Montgomery i'”
“ Yes.”
“ Letter, sar.”
Montgomery took it; the handwriting was a strange one.
He opened it and started with surprise. The letter was
signed, “ Tim WHITE WITCH.”

 
CHAPTER XXV.
THE ercn’s LETTER.

MONTGOMERY read the letter in astonishment. It was brief. '

“ Did I predict truly at Newport or not i Already the best part of {gut
fortune is gone. The love that you thought so true hasl )roved to a
hollow mockerv. Are you couvmced, or are you blind? ven now. an-
other blow is almi d at you. Are you pr. pared to receive it? Not With
uncovered head you how to it; nay more, you invite it—beg the stroke
that will crush you to the earth. You rush madly to your doom. I ity
and would save you, if you will heed my warning. Will you do so 9 on
shall give me your answer to-night. Be at the Central Park gate, Seventh
Menus and Fifty-ninth street, to—night at nine o’clock. I will meet you
there. If you va.ue your future happiness, come."
“Tin Wain Wires."

80 read the letter that the young man perused. The mystery
seemed to he thickening around him.

“ Who can this mysterious personage be l” he asked, in
wonder. “ How can she watch my footsteps in this way? I
must ﬁnd the servant; perhaps from him I can learn who
gave him the letter.”

Acting at once on the thought, Montgomery ascended the
stairs again. After giving him the letter the servant had gone
up-stairs.

Montgomery had not noticed the face of the man particu-
larly, but he had no doubt that he could tell him again at a
glance. _

In the corridor at the head of the stairs, Montgomery met
one of the servants. A single look into his face and the
young man thought that he recognized the person who had
given him the letter.

“ Who gave you that letter for me 1’” Montgomery asked,
accosting the servant. «

The colored waiting-man looked at Montgomery in aston-
ishment.

“ Did yer speak to me, sar?” he asked. 1
“Yes; who gave you the letter that you handed me just: ' ’

 
now ?" repeated Montgomery.

“ Letter, sar i” said the servant, rolling up his eyes in astou-
ishment.

“Yes, the one that you gave me a moment ago; you r~
member, Mr. Montgomery’s letter.” The young man was sure
that he had got hold of the right man, for his voice was fa
miliar as well as his face.

“ Bress de Lord! I didn’t guve yer no letter, boss 1” er-
claimed the negro.

“ Yes you did,” persisted Montgomery, who guessed at onos
that the man had been bribed to silence.

“By goily, bossl I hain’t seen no letter i” said the servant

wonder.

“ You have probably forgotten the little circumstance,” and
as Montgomery spoke, he took a dollar greenback from his
pocketbook and gave it to the servant. “Don’t you thinlv
you can remember the letter now i" he asked.

“ Much obliged, boss,” said the colored man, pocketing the
greenback, with a grin that extended his mouth from ear to ear.

“ And now, who gave you the letter i"

“ I ’clare to goodness, boss, I don’t know nuﬂin ’bout de let
ter 1" was again replied.

Montgomery’s brows contracted. He saw that he had not
bid high enough.

“ Hark ye, my friend," he said, “will a ﬁve-dollar note ii. ‘
duce you to tell me who gave on that letter l”

“I don't know nuﬂin ’bout e letter,” replied the man, pei -
sisting in his denial. “I ’speck you’s got hold of de wrong
chile, boss.”

Then the ofﬁce bell sounded. .

“ Dat’s me i” exclaimed the servant; “ much obliged or (in
dollar, boss,” and he hurried down-stairs.

Montgomery was perplexed.

_He was sure that he had spoken with the very man \ hohu‘
given the letter into his hands.

“ The fellow must be well paid,” he muttered, “ to keep the
secret so faithfully. How the deuce can I discover who this
mysterious woman is i?" Montgomery pondered over the dif-
ﬂcult Question. “By JOVe i” he said, suddenly, “ the best way
is to keep the appointment, made in the letter, of this White
Witch. The Seventh avenue gate, Central Park," he said, re~
ﬂectively, and referring to the letter, “ at nine o’clock to. _
night. Good, I’ll be there. What the deuce can the new , i
misfortune be that is hanging over my unlucky head? Ah, ‘
well i time will tell, I suppose. Now, if this shrewd English-
man can only learn the truth as to whether Tulip Roche is
friend or foe, that will be one riddle solved."

Montgomery descended again to the street.

As the young man stood in front of the hotel, meditating
upon the strange events of the sat few hours, a gentleman
coming up the street attracted h attenth

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Hunted Down; or, The League of Three.

 
The
“ swell.

He evidently was an Englishman. He wore the shortest of
coats and the tightest of pantaloons; the material was black
velvet- In his hand he carried a little cane. A glossy silk
hat, white in color and shining like satin, adorned his head.
A air of eye-glasses were perche upon his nose.

ontgomery could not help noticing him as he approached,

his appearance was so peculiar.

Then Montgomery suddenly discovered that the face of the
stranger was familiar to him. This rather astonished him,
and he was still more astonished at the stranger bowing, evi-
dently to him, and approaching with outstretched hand.

Montgomery looked at him in wonder.

“ The stranger paused and surveyed Montgomery through
his lasses.

“ ell, governor, how is this for high? as you Americans
as l” he said.

ontgomery started in amazement.

It was the voice of Chris Pipganl

“ Pipgan 1” Montgomery cried, in wonder

“All correct between you and I,” replied Pipgan, with a
wink; “ but, to the world at present, I am Chawles Maltravers,
you know, an imported swell, just over to this ‘blarsted
country, you know.’ A perfect swell, you know; in fact, as
We say in the London music halls, I’m a re ular ‘ howler.’ ’

Montgomery could not help laughing at ipgan's imitation
of the English fop.

The change that the Englishman had made in his personal
appearance by simply putting on a “ nobby " suit of clothes
and curiing his yellow hair in little crispy curls all over his
head, was astonishing.

“Your disguise is really wonderful; I didn’t know you,”
said Montgomery.

“Pretty tidy get-up, eh, ovemorf I put it to you if it
.un’t ?” and Pipgan surveyeg himself oomplacently.

“ Excellent ; but the reason i"

“ So as to keep my eyes on the bird that you set me to
watch,” replied Pipgan. “ I couldn’t very well follow him in
the high society that he frequents in my old togs. Bless you,
he‘d ’a’ tumbled to it in a minute." .‘

“ But I don’t understand—" . .

“Plain as a pike-staff, governor!" cried the Englishman.
“I want you to introduce me to the gentleman as Chawles
Maltravers, you know, just from across the water, familiarly
called Champagne Charlie by my friends, you know; a regular
bowler and all that sort of thin , you know.” And Pipgan
gave another capital imitation o the style of the English fop
-‘the character that he was representing.

“ And your idea is f”

“ To wriggle myself into his confidence, if I can: at any
rate, I can circulate around his haunts without excitin any
suspicion, and so keep my 8 es upon him. As I tol you.
governor, when I took the 10 , I don’t think that I Can suc-
ceed, but I can try.”

“Mortal man can not do more," observed Montgomery.
“By the way, you remember that I told you of a mysterious
woman who called herself the White Witch i”

“Yes, of course; the one that predicted all sorts of things
concerning you?” °

“Exactly,” replied Montgomery. “Read this note; it was
put in my hands a moment ago by one of the servants of the

otel here,” and Montgomer [gave the letter to Pipgan.

Mont omery had replace t e note in the envelope, which
was a p sin white one, and simplﬁ addressed:

“ Axons on'reonmnr,
“ Present.”

The moment that Pipgan’s eye fell upon the writing a puz-
.Iled look appeared upon his face. A man less accustomed to
conceal his emotions than the cool, cautious Englishman,
would probably have started. "

Montgomery noticed his puzzled look.

“ What is it i" he asked.

“ Oh, nothing,” said Pipgan, carelessly; “ it’s apretty hand
ain’t it i” ’

“But it looks more like the handwriting of a man than that
of a woman," Montgomery remarked.

“ Pre-cisely the idea that struck me," said the Englishman
with a peculiar smile. '

“ 113‘ the hand 1familiail'3to you i”

“ 0 me! ’ exc aimed ipgan, apparentl astonished. "
how could it be? But let’s see what’s ingide." Why,
. ;I]‘he Englishman opened the letter and read it through care-

u y.
“ What do you think of it!" asked Montgomery, after wait.
lug for Piggan to speak out, and findin that he did not.

“ Well don’t know,” said the Eng ishman, slowly. “ It
wands like the letter of a friend. Are you going to keep the
appointment f”

“ I have not yet decided.”

“ I would if . were you."

“guy,” i d

“ ecause twon't 0 an harm, if it don’t do an good,
say that what the White Witch predicted has coIne truer?“

x gin“), 50'" d h b 11

ten go an see er y a means," said Pi ran, nick] ,
“ What sort of a locking woman is this White Witch?" ,

“ Well I can hardly tell," replied Montgomery. “I only
nw her for a few minutes, and then she was masked and db
guisecl in such a we that she baﬂed recognition."
zyasnsho tall t is, a pod-sued woman, not little f"

I. .

gentleman was of that class that is usually called a

 
‘" ““"‘”’ m

“ Rayther slender form?

It Yes. U

“ Large black eyes i”

“ Yes.” Montgomery was astonished.

“ And her voice i"

“ Disguised so that I can not describe it. But it is possibla
that _you know the girl or woman—whatever she is—that is
playing the part of this sibyll’” Montgomery asked, in won;

er.
“I know her?” exclaimed Pi n o nin his e in ~
tonishment. “ Why, how couldpﬁ”' pe g y“ a .

“ But your description is exact.” ‘

“ I was only guessing, Yankee fashion, at what I thought
she might look like,” replied the E lishman.

“ Oh!” exclaimed Montgomery, 'sappointed; “ I fancied
that perhaps you had a clue.” .

“ Oh, did you i" said Pipgan, quietly.

“ Then you advise me to keep this appointment 1”

“ Yes, and I’ll go with you.”

“ With me f"

“ Not exactly with you, but after you.”

“ For What object ?” .

“ To find out what the White Witch is. I’ll keep behind
you, out of si ht. Then, after your interview is over, and you
separate, I wi 1 follow her, and once I get on her track, leave
me alone to find out who and what she is." .

“ A capital ideal” cried Mont omery, warmly. “ I con-
fess I would give a great deal to now who this mysterious
woman is that has such a knowledge of my affairs. But to-
night may reveal the truth.”

hen e two parted. -

 
CHAPTER XXVI.
o'cozmnr. san'rs 'rnn _ sworn-30m.

MONTGOMERY went up the street, while"Pipgan‘tb‘niained
standing in front of the hotel. , ,

“ Well, jigger my buttons, if the aﬂ'air isn't ghttin more
and more complicated,” ilpgan muttered, as he suc ed the
edge of his little cane. “ ere I’ve come over the ‘harring-
pond’ just to amuse myself a little—to get rid of business—
and all of a sudden I ﬁnd myself up to mv eyes in work.
Strange that I haven’t reCeiVed a cable dispatch yet! Some-
thing must be wrong on the ether side of the water. Can the
proofsnbe wanting l It’s some years since the  hap~
pen

And while the Englishman was meditating, Lienel O’Con-
nel came up the street.‘ He approached the hotel, his eyes
ﬁxed upon the ground. He was evidently in dee thought.

O’Connel, in his abstraction, did not notice ipgan, who
stood exactly in front of the door, until he near] ran over
him; then,ﬂnding that his progress was obstructed, e paused,
raised his eyes, and looked the Englishman in the face.

“ I beg your pardon, sir,” O’Connel said, absently, hardly
noticing the face of the man whom he was'addressing.

“Don‘t mention it, you know,” replied Pipgan, with the
broadest English accent; and as he spoke, he stepped to one
side to allow the other to pass.

The moment O’Connel heard the voice of the Englishman
a peculiar gleam shot from his eyes. It was as quick as
the ﬂash of powder, and was gone in an instant ; yet, quick
rigid slight as it was, it did not escape the searching eyes of

1p an.

“ really beg your pardon; I was absent-minded at the
moment, and I did not notice you until I nearly ran against

on.” And while O’Connel was speaking, his eyes were ﬁxed
intently upon the face of the other.

Pi gan did not seem to notice the look.

“ on’t mention it, you know, my boy; accidents will oc-
cur in the best regulated families, you know; yas," and Pip-
gan looked through his eye-glasses at O'Connel, and grinned
ike a huge ape.

An expression of disappointment passed rapidly over O’Con-
nel's face. Pipgan’s keen eyes again detected the look,
though, as before, apparently, he saw it not.

O'Connel bowed and passed into the hotel.

“ Strange, how familiar his voice sounded to me !” O'Con-
nel muttered, as he ascended the stairs. “ I could have sworn
that I had heard it before, and from the quick thrill of fear
that ran through m senses, I was convinced that it was the
voice of one, who, n the past, has been hostile to me. But
the face—the face is strange. I am getting childish to be
startled by a voice.” -

Pipgan watched O’Connel ascend the stairs, with a shrewd
smile upon his face.

‘: He didn’t tumble to it, after all,” the Englishman sale,
quietly. “ M young friend has a good memory, but this
' stunnmg’ su t and the heyeglasses—you know—were too
much for him. What little aine is be up to now? I must
keep my eyes on him. He'll ear watching." And with this
reflection, which undoubtedly would have caused O’Oonnel
considerable uneasiness had be known of it,Pipgan sauntered
into the billiard room attached to the hotel. ‘

O'Connel prOCeeded upstairs to Leone’s apartments.

He could not account, even to himself, for the vague feel-
ing of uneasiness that had come over him. The chance meet
ing with the stranger in front of the hotel, whose voice had
soung so familiar to him, had produced a strange effect up-
On 1m.

O‘Connel found Leone seated b the window, but,
dreamrly. upon the busy, bustling t nan: that crow ‘

 
-"-I‘

-"Hunted Down; or, The League of Three. 35

 
way. She did not even turn from the window at O’Connel’s
entrance.

“ It is only me, Leone," he said.

" Yes, I expected you,” she replied, quietly.

“ Oh, you did i”

“ Yes ’ '

“ How could you tell who it was?”

“ I have but two visitors—”

“ And the other one, meaning Angus Montgomery, has
been here, then f”

It Yes.”

Leone still kept her face averted from O‘Connel’s gaze.

“ What do you see in the street that is so interesting,
Leone?" he asked, approaching her.

“ Nothing.”

“ You are a foolish rl to look so long and earnestly upon
nothing,” O'Connel sa d, with a sneer, and, as he spoke; he
drew a chair to him and sat down in it, facing the girl.

“Leone, have the kindness to transfer your attention from
the outside world to your humble servant for a few minutes
and you will greatly oblige the subscriber,” O’Connel, said, in
a tone of mock politeness.

“ Well i" and Leone turned her face from the window and
looked, coldly, at O‘Connel.

“Good; that is better,” and then O‘Connel surveyed the
face of the girl for a few moments in silence.

“ Why do ou look at me so intently l” Leone asked.

“ I am reading."

“ Reading ?”

“ Yes, your face. It is very interesting,” O’Connel said, a
peculiar smile hovering—phantom-like—around the month.

“‘And what do you read there l”

“ That you have obeyed my orders."

“ Indeed r”

“ Yes; Mentgomery has been here to see you; he has told
ou that he loved you, and you have told him that he was
oved in return.”

“ Are you sure of it?”

“ Quite,” O’Connel answered, coolly. “ Why, the truth is
as plain] written in your face as though the words Were im-
printed t ere. There is a joyous look in your ﬂashing, dark
eyes, a smile of happiness upon your lips, where, possibly,
the perfume of his warm kiss, yet lingers. Don’t try to de-
givcdme, Leone. I have known you too long to be easily de-

ve . ’
d“I have not denied the truth of your words,” she said,
owl'y.

:And’yon are now Montgomery's promised wife i”

es.

“ Good l” and O’Connel rubbed his hands together, softly,
as if in joy. “ All then is as I wish. Leone you have played
your part well. You have kept your word with me and I
will keep mine with you."

“ You will release me horn the bond that binds me to

f"
yoXYes, you shall be free, your own mistress, no longer the
slave of my will. Doesn't a bright vision of happiness arise
before you i”

“ Wh should I dream of happy days to come 7" the girl
asked sIowiy.

“ Why should you not i" he said, in a tone of wonder.
“ If the past has been dark and gloomy, is that a reason why
the future should be also sad i”

“ No, but—”

“ But what?” he asked, im atieutly. “ You have won the
love of Angus Montgome ; f the old saying is type, love is
the whole of a woman's 1 fe; though wit man, it is but the
history of a day. You love and you are loved. What more
can on ask?"

“ ou speak as if you thought that I intended to become
Montgoinery's wife," the girl said, her dark eyes ﬂashing as
she a.

“ wcourse,” replied O’Connel, coolly; “you are not such
an idiot as to refuse him f”

“I shall never be his wife,” Leone replied.

“ Are on m‘ad l” O’Connel exclaimed.

“ No, am only ust.”

“Just 1" and 0’ onnel’s tone was sneering in the extreme.

“ Yes, ,both to him and to m self," answered Leone, ﬁrmly.
“I promised you that I woul try and make him love me;
you compelled me to do so, for, b the word that I gave years
ago, I am as a slave in your han s. But I will never deceive
the‘man who has honored me with his love. After you re-
lease me from my promise, I will tell Angus Montgomery
who and what I am. '

“ You’re a fool l” exclaimed O’Connel, coarsely.

‘i‘ getter a fool than to act a knavish partl” replied the girl,

11 c y. , , ,
q “ Well, it is your dilhir, not' mine,” O'Connel said, careless-
ly. “ And now to business. You remember what I wished
you to do? ‘

" Obtain Montgomery's check?"

“ Yes, the check to be ﬁlled up by you."

“ Suppose that he objects to this?

“ If he loves you, he Will not," O'Connel replied.

“ Lionel, why do you hate this man so bitterly i” asked the
girl, suddenly. I

“ What is that to you t” replied O‘Connel, coldly.

“ You must have some remn."

“ I have. Did you ever know me to do any thing without
a reason r” ‘ho‘asked. '

“ N ever,” she replied; “ on are cold and calculating; your
heart must be marble, not ssh."

 
“ Perhaps it is,” he replied, with a light laugh. Then a
sudden thought occurred to him. “ Leone,” he said, abruptly,
“ as I entered the hotel just now, a man stood in the doorway,
whose face seemed strangely familiar to me."

H  '3”

“His face Sent a cold chill through every vein, and you
know, Leone, 1 am not easily agitated. Can you guess why
this man’s face should trouble me ‘3”

“ No,” she replied, absently. She was hardly heeding his I
words; her thoughts were far away. .

“ It was because his face recalled to my mind the aﬁair in
En land that so near] cost me my life.”

he girl started an a cloud came over his face as he spoke.

“ Why should the face of this stranger remind you of that
dreadful event?” she asked.

“That i can not tell; but the face had some connection
with the affair.” '

“ Ah 1” and Leone started suddenly, as the exclamation
broke from her lips.

“ What’s the matter ?” O‘Connel asked, noticing the strange
expression upon her face. .

“Your words have recalled to my mind something that I
intended to tell you before, but I forgot to speak of it. Some
time ago, a man, evidently an Englishman, came to the door
and wished to know if I wanted to purchase a little dog that
he had for sale.” ' ‘

“ Well, what of that?” asked O’Connel, who saw nothing
remarkable in the circums'ance.

“ When I asked the dog’s name, he answered, that it was
called Mally, short for Mulper.”

O’Connel could not repress an exclamation of surprise as
the name fell upon his cars.

“ Malper l” he muttered.

“Yes, I thought that the coincidence was strange. I did
not let the man see that the name was familiar to me, and
carelessly I said that the name was a strange one ; he replied
that it was the name give to the puppy by the man from
whom he had bought it."

O’Connel remained silent for a few moments busy in
thought.

“ What was this man like 1'" he asked, suddenly.

“ He was not quite so tall as on are; dressed common, but
not shabby; keen gray eyes an light yellow hair.”

“ Any beard i”

“No.”

“ Was his hair curly f”

“ N0; straight.”

" His face thin; rather a large nosel"

“ Yes,” she replied.

“ Leone, the face of your dog-man is exactly the face of the
man that I met just now at the hotel door, below; I am afraid
that we are in danger.”

A troubled look swept over the face of the girl.

“ Then you think—”

“ That a sleuth-hound is on our track i" he said, with fierce
accent.

Leone shuddered and covered her face with her hands.

“Do not fear!” he cried; “leave my wits alone to get the
better of this fellow who has tracked us over the broad ocean.
He is hunting us: in turn, I‘ll hunt him. Don’t fear; the
danger is as yet far in the distance. Lose no time in getting
Montgomery to sign the check. That done, I rrlease you
from your promise, and you are free to go where you like and
with whom you like."

“Montgomery is coming to-morrow. I will try and carry
out our wishes.”

“ 0 so; I will come again tomorrow evening. Till then,
good-by.” and O’Connel left Leone to her own sad thoughts.

CHAPTER XXVII.
ma wrrcn srrnsas.

Tm: hands of Montgomery’s watch marked ten minutes to
nine when he arrived at the Central Park gate on Fifty-ninth
street, at the head of Seventh avenue.

A new moon, slowly rising in the dark skies, shed a dim

light over the earth.

The night air was chilly, and Montgomery drew his light
overcoat closer around him as he felt the cold ﬁngers of the
night breezes.

“ It is nearly time for my mysterious lady to come,” he mut-
tered, as he paced up and down before the gateway. “Who
can it be that takes such an interest in my fortunes? The
knowledge that she possesses, too, seems marvelous. Why,
the whole affair is more like a romantic ﬁction or a wild dream
than sober reality.”

Then a sudden thought occurred to Montgomery, and he
paused in his walk and looked carefully around him.

“ I wonder if the Englishman is here i” he said, as he looked
in vain for the ﬁgure of his spy.

“ I don’t see him. He may be concealed in the shrubbery
inside the Park, though. Perhaps it is better for the success
of our plan that I should not know where he is. I mivht pos-
sibly defeat his purpose by some awkwardness. Why the
deuce don’t she come? The wind is confounded chilly

Then Montgomery again resumed his walk.

A distant bell sounded on the still night air.

Montgomery again examined his watch.

“ Nine o’clock, exactly,” be said. “Now, then, where I
the White Witch?”

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33 Hunted Down; or,

EEY

His gaze wandered up and down the street but no female
form met his eyes.

“ By Jove i” he cried, suddeni ; “ suppose this should hap-
pen to turn out to be a hoax? {never thought of that before.

t would be a delightful joke if I walked up and down here
for an hour or so and no one came. But, who Would play
such a jest on me? No, I must have patience. My mysterious
Newport lady will probably appear soon."

And even as he spoke he caught sight of a female ﬁgure ap-
proaching on the Park sidewalk from the direction of Eighth
avenue.

“I wonder if that is she f" Montgomery muttered, as he
stopped by the gate and watched the woman who was ap-
proaching so ra idly.

“ No White itch this time, however,” mused Montgomery
as he noticed the dress of the woman.

A few minutes and the dark figure brushed by the young
man.

“ Follow me !" she said, in a voice evidently disguised, as she
passed by Montgomery. Then she went through the gate and
entered the Park.

Montgomery obeyed the command, and followed in her foot-
steps. He had recognized the voice of the White Witch.

As he followed her by the dim moonlight he was enabled to
notice her carefully.

She was about the medium hight, and habited in a water-
proof cloak, that reached to her ankles and completely hid the
dress beneath from sight. The hood of the cloak was pulled
over her head, and a thick green vail concealed her face from
view.

She was completely disguised; and, if she had been Mont.
gomery's most intimate acquaintance, she could safely have
deﬁed his recognition.

Within the Park, the vailed woman took the path leading
to the left, straight down the slope, passed through the arch-
wa , and ascended the little hill beyond.

n the crest of the slope she halted, cast a nick glance
around, as if to assure herself that there were no isteners by,
and then she turned to Montgomery, who had followed her
without a word.

“ We are secure from observation here," she said.

Montgomery noticed that the tones of the woman were very
low, barely above a whisper, and that she was evidently trying
to disguise her natural voice.

The thought ﬂashed across his mind that she must be known
to him, else why should she be so cautious.

The woman had looked carefully around her when she
halted. No one besides themselves was in sight, yet she was
mistaken when she said that no one observed them.

After the two had entered the gate and gone down the
windin path, a man arose cautiously from behind a clump of
bushes y the side of the path, that had concealed him from

at ht.

gQuietly and carefully he followed in the footsteps of the two,
tracking them as the wild beast tracks its prey, or the wily
savage, on the western frontier, trails his victim.

The sound of the footsteps of the two, ringing out clear on
the silence of the night, served as a guide to him.

The windings of the path cencealed the pursued from the
pursuer.

While the steps of the two resounded clearly on the still air,
on the contrary, the man who followed moved like a ghost,
and his steps fell upon the earth with all the stealth and
silence of the cat.

Suddenly, the noise of the footsteps, that he was listening to
so eagerly, ceased.

The watcher guessed at once that the two had halted.

With increased caution, bent almost double, he proceeded
onward, keeping, as he moved, in the shade of the trees and
bushes that lined the pathway.

Then, as he came to an abrupt turn of the path, he saw the
ﬁgures of Montgomery and the vailed woman standing
together, a hundred paces on.

The spy dropped upon his knees in the shadow of a tree.

For a moment be surveyed the scene before him. Then, as
if having made up his mind as to the course that he should

ursue, he left the path, and availing himself of the shelter af-
orded by the trees and bushes, he noiselessly, snake-like, stole,
little by little, toward the spot where Montgomery and the
vailed woman stood.

He advanced so cautiously, that the two had no suspicion
that there was any one near them.

Within a dozen paces of the two, the spy found shelter un-
der a bush, and there, crouched u on the ground like a huge
toad, he listened attentive] to the r conversation.

“ You received my note ” the vailed woman said.

“ Yes,” Montgomery replied. “ It was hardly necessary
to ask the question, for you see that I have kept the appoint-
ment.”

“True; it is some weeks since we met at Newport; do
you remember my words?” said the woman, still striving to
disguise her voice.

“ Yes,” replied Montgomery, and as he spoke, he was vain-
ly tryin to remember when and where he had heard the
voice 0 the vailed woman before, for that it was familiar to -
him, he was sure. ,

“ Then, ou have not for tten the White Witch f"

“ No," ontgomery repl ed.

“ Have my words come true?” she asked.

“ Now, if you are indeed a witch.you need not ask that
question,’ Mont emerg‘ssid.

,"Isssyess dos superior."

The League of Three.

 
“ I have not said so.”

“ Not in words, true; but the manner of your speech im~
plies the doubt.”

“You should be a witch, indeed, for you guess my
thoughts," Montgomery said.

“ Now, I will answer the question that I asked. Some of
my predictions have been fulﬁlled ; the others will be."

“ You are sure of it?” Montgomery asked, gravely.

“ As sure as that I stand here," replied the White Witch ,

firmly.

Montgomery was stag ered by her manner.

“ You do not speak. %
lieve ; would to Heaven that you would, and thus save your
self from the utter ruin that awaits you‘.”

“ Utter ruin i” exclaimed the young man, in wonder.

“ Yes, utter ruin i” repeated the woman, quickly. “ I pre-
dicted on our first meeting that you would lose friends, wealth,
and love. I put love last, as the loss of it inﬂicts more an-
guish than that of wealth and friends combined. A man will
see his fortune vanish with a smile, look calmly on the faith
less friend's departure, and yet, the knowledge of the false-
hood of the woman to whom he has given all the love in his
nature, will tear his heart and make him loathe the world
and all its creatures. You will not dispute the truth of my
words, for your own heart tells on that they are not false."

“ No, your words are true," ontgomery said, with a bitter
accent.

“ You have lost fortune, friends, and, dearer than either, the
woman that you loved."

“To a certain extent, you are right. The love is utterly
gone, and nearly all my fortune; but the friend—”

“ Is a secret enemy!” said the woman, hastily. “ He is one
of the League of Three that are striking these terrible blows."

“The League of Three! yes, I remember now; you spoke
of til; league before, did you not f"

Id 88.” I

“ But such a thing seems more like fiction than a sober, liv
ing truth. Leagues are of the dark ages, when might made
right and the strong arm held what the strong arm took.”

“ And has the world changed greatly since the age you
speak of?" demanded the vailed woman. "No! the strong
arm still holds what it forcibly takes. The hand of iron still
exists, but modern civilization has covered it with a kid-
glove. In the olden time, mailed knights, at the head of
armed warriors, seiZed castles and cities; they won them
amid the shock of arms, in battles; they call their stealing,
glory. In modern days, the knights have turned into gentle-
men in broadcloth, shining boots, diamond-pins, and kid-
gioves; they seize railroads, city charters, and fat contracts;
their armed hosts are smooth-ton ued lawyers, venial emce-
holders, and a corru t press. They work in the dark, and
their stealing is calfed speculation. The world has not
changed; it has only covered its ugly face with a mask. An-
gus Montgomery, believe me when I tell you that these three
men have sworn to ruin you i Ask your own jud ment it
my words are improbable. Have you never heard 0 combi-
nations? Are they not made in party politics every year?
Can all these blows that have fallen so heavily upon your
head he the result of accident alone i"

“No; it does not seem probable,” Montgomery replied,
slow] '.

“ Iliave spoken truth i" exclaimed the woman, ﬁrmly.

“ But why do these three men hate me so bitterly l" Angus
asked.

“ Because you are in their way, and they seek to remove
you from it.”

“Tell me the names of the three f”

“ I can not,” the vailed woman said, slowly.

“And why not?”

“ Because i—but do not ask me for reasons,” the White
Witch said, imploringiy.

“ You know their names and yet will not reveal them to
me ?”

“ I can not,” again said the vailed woman, with anguish
in her tones. ‘

“ Why not give me the reason for the refusal, then?"

“ I am bound b a promise. I have almost broken that
promised by revealing to you the existence of the league.”

“ Who are you i” asked Montgomery, suddenly.

“ Do not ask me. I can not tell you that, either."

“ You are not a stranger to me; I am sure of it. I will
lift the vail from your face; then, I shall know you."

With uplitted hand, Montgomery advanced to the shrinking
woman.

 
0
CHAPTER XXVIII
mans!

Tan spy, concealed behind the bush, lifted his head and
peeped through the foliage.

As he moved, a dried twig snapped beneath his hand. A
smothered exclamation came from his lips; he feared dis-
covery. But, the apprehension was uncalled for. Montgem~
cry and the vailed woman were so occupied in their interview,
that a much louder noise than the mere crackling of the twig
beneath the hand of the spy upon their meeting, would not
have attracted their noticd.

As Montgotnery advanced with his head raised sell by
Mllme the mains veil wish! the lean-see

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Hunted Down; or, The League of Three." 37

{30 unknown, with a quick movement she retreated from
m.

With one hand she waved him back, while with the other
she drew the vail down closer over her face

“No, no, Angus Montgomery, you will not do that,” she
murmured, still evidently trying to disguise her voice as she
had done throughout the interview.

“ And why will I not?" demanded the young man, im—
patiently. “ My losses have almost made me desperate. You
have to d me a strange—a wonderful story. How can I tell
that you are my friend— you, who know so well the plans of
my enemies? Am I not rather justiﬁed in believing that you,
too,'are a foe f”

“ No; if I am your enemy why should I take the trouble to
warn you f"

“80 that I ma know that it is mortals who are pushing
me to the brink o ruin and not the decrees of fate. There is
little satisfaction in striking a man unless he know 3 who gives
the blow.”

“ Angus Montgomery, I protest to you by all that is good
or holy in this world, that I am not an enemy—that is, I
mean, that of my own free will I \\ ould ratherdie than wrong
you even by a thought. I can not tell on more of the Three
than I have already told you, for were to do so I should be-
tray the oerson from whom I received my information. You
will not take the vail from my face, I am sure; you will re-
spect the wish I express to remain unknown.”

“ And why are you sure of that?" asked the young man,
pausing, irresolute.

" Because I know that Angus Montgomery is a gentle-
man.”

Montgomerly hit his lip. The blow struck home. He raised
his hat polite y, and bowed.

“I thank you for the compliment,” he said ; “ you are
right. I will not attempt to penetrate your disguise. I will
be content to know you only as the White Witch.”

” I should not have trusted myself alone with you here at ~

this hour if I had not known your character,” she said, softly.
Again the voice sounded familiar to Montgomery, and he
would have sworn that he had seen the mysterious woman
when her face was not covered.
“ Forgive mry rudeness; but—pardon the question—do I
not know, you '

“Ah I" he cried, ea erly. ,

“I am the White itch l” and she laughed low and merrily
as she spoke.

“ Enough ; I will not try to detect who you are,” said
Montgomery, baﬁied, “ yetI am sure that you are Well known
to me, and by another name than the fanciful one that you
havngiven yourself.”

“ on are wrong; you do not know me,” replied the vailed
womNan,r quietly, a touch of sadness in her voice.

It 0

“ It is the truth; and perhaps on will never know me."

Montgomery was puzzled. 6 did not guess the double
meaning of her words.

He for ot the old sa ing, that, “ one never knows a wo-
man unti he has marrie her.”

" Heaven has ordained that for a brief time our lines of
life shall run side by side; how soon they will be separate,
no one knows. I am trying to do you a service. It was for
that that I sought you at the masquerade in Newport. I
Warned you ofcoming danger, but my warning did not save
you from it.”

“It was impossible to guard against the blows even with
your warning. But, why have you sought me now? Are
there more evils to fall upon me? ’

“ Yes, all my predictions have not been fulfilled,” the White
Witch answered.

“ True, my fortune isn‘t all lost, but there’s precious little
left,” Montgomery said, dryly.

“ Your friend i"

“ I have not yet proved him to be an enemy."

“That proof will be presented to you before the week is
over," said the woman, quickly.

Montgomery was astonished.

“ From whom do you receive this information f"

“ I have alread told you that to tell you would betray the
me from whom do receive it,” replied the woman.

Montgomery felt that the affair was getting more and more
mysterious.

“ But, can you tell me one thing?”

“ Ask; I w ll answer if I can,” the vailed ﬁgure said.

“ You told me at Newport that a certain lady would prove
false to the vows that she had sworn to me," Montgomery
said, with a little hesitation, for the subject was painful to
him even now.

“ Yes; were not my words true f"

“Too true," replied Montgomery, with a bitter accent. ..

“ What I would ask is: how did on know—or uess— hat
also would rove false to me f" y g t

“ ll tell you frankly P"

qu ‘n 

a? n ignitrglves you pail: f"

.esn t; oon.’ on In relied r .
“Beams she negver loved yo‘us:2 or, p a my
Montgomery, despite his self-control, winced at the words.

It wasnota laasant thing to be told that the woman on
whom in Is lavished the purest and richest treasures of his
never cared for him ; but he bore it bravely.
The vailed woman noticed the quiver of his lips and the
momentary look of pain that came over his face.

/...,__

 
" I knew that the truth would give you pain,” she said,
soft) , and with an accent of pity in her tones.

“ ever mind; it‘s like the ‘ skillful surgeon cutting be-
yond the wound to make the cure complete,‘ ” he replied,
quietly. “ How could you know that she did not love me i”

“ I can read her character in her face,” replied the White
Witch, slowly; and as she spoke, the thought occurred to
Montgomery that the vailed woman was evading the ques-
tion.

“ In her face you read that she did not love me?” he queried.

“No, not that,” replied the woman, “ but in her face I
read that she did not love any one, except herself. Her na-
ture is a selﬁsh one. It is not her fault. It was born in her.
To love, one must have ﬁre—passion. Think of Frances
Chauncy‘s cold eyes; they are beautiful, but 'tis the beauty
of Colored glass; the ﬁre that should give them life dWells
not there. Anotln-r proof: her thin, passionlesslips; and then,
too, her wax-like lace. Such a girl as she is can never love
any one deeply. It is not in her. Angus, her cold, unsympa~
thetic nature would chill your heart to ice, deaden the blood
within your veins, and cause you to regret the day when you
linked your fate with hers. Do not think that Iwould wrong
her, even in thought, for Heaven knows that I have 119 Wish
to do so. You asked for the truth, and I have spoken it, per-
haps too freely.”

“ No, no l" he exclaimed. .

“ l have onl obeyed your wish," she replied, simply.

“Yes, and thank you for it; and now, what is the new
danger that threatens me ?" ’

“ You have still some little portion of your fortune l_eft f'_

“ Yes, a few thousands that I have saved from the wreck,"
Montgomery answered.

“ Your foes strike at that next."

“ Indeed, how ?"

“ That I can not tell you.”

“ Why not?"

“ Because I do not know; the White Witch, you see, frank
l confesses her ignorance. All that 1 know is that the
Lyeague of Three intend to strike another blow at_ you. What

have you left thatthey can strike at, except the little remnant
of your fortune?" she asked.

“ You have just now confessed that your wisdom does not
extend to knowing every thing," Montgomery said, quietly.

The vailed woman looked at him in wonder.

“ I do not understand you," she said. " Again the White
Witch is ignorant."

“ You say that my fortune is all that I have left; you arr
wrong. I have something that I value more than I do the
mono .”

“I guess what that is," said the White Witch, dryly.

“ You do?”

“ Yes; you mean that you are loved." - l

“ Right; I am.” . _

“A fatal love that will lead you to your ruin,’ the varied
woman said, gravely.

“No, you are wrong; it is a love that will make my future
life happy beyond expression.”

“ You will not be warned f”

“ Against her f”

(I  H

“Do you know the name of the lady that I refer to?"

“ I can guess it.”

“ Well, then, speak it. If you can guess her name you are
indeed a witch, for the secret of our love is known only to the
lady and myself," said Montgomery, conﬁdently.

“ Leonel' .

Montgomery uttered an exclamation of surprise. With
wonder in his face, he gazed upon the mysterious woman.

“ 1 car not understand this l’ he cried.

“Oh, An us Montgomery, you are walking blindly into
the snare! our love for Leone is a broken reed; lean upon
it and it will snap in twain," she said, bitterly.

“ I confess your knowledge surprises me," he said, slowly,
and in wonder.

“The knowledge of your love known onl to yourself and
the lad 2" said the woman, scornfully. “ on are wrong.
Lionel ’Connel knows that you love her and that she loves
vou.

“ He does ?” exclaimed Montgomery, stupeﬂed at the news.

“ Yes ; and she told him.”

“Ah!” Asudden light ﬂashed upon Montgomery’s brain
“ From O‘Connel, then, you procured your information 2”

“Perhaps,” replied the White Witch ambiguously.

“ Perhaps l I am sure of it l" cried Montgomery. “ Well,
there is no harm in her speaking of it. I am not ashamed of
my love: This O'Connel is an old friend of here; the only
one, besides myself, that she has in this strange country.
What is more natural than that she should conﬁde her [lappi-
ness to him ll"

“Lionel O’Connel her friend 7" and there was a culiar
expression in the tone of the vailed woman that grate harsh-
ly on Montgomery’s ear.

“ Yes, her friend," he replied.

“Is he not more than a friend 7 Question her and see if
she will answer you i"

The words of the mysterious woman out like a knife-thmst
to Montgomery’s heart.

“ How! would you dare to—” and then be checked his im-
pulsive s eech.

“ Well ” The White ~Witch looked at him, calmly.

“ Pardon me, I was hasty," he said. “Answer one ques-
tion. Does notLeoue love me i"

” Yes. better than she loves any thing in this world. and

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yet her love will bring you to your ruin. ’T.s to tell you this made, and thou in it an indication that he was about to renew
that I have seen you tonight. And now, fare-Well. If you the struggle. e did not fully realize how complete his vic-
sre a gentleman, you will not follow me." tory was.

A moment and the woman was gone “ Don’t try that on i” exclaimed the unknown, sternly.
“You’re bigger than I am but I’ve got a little weapon here
that makes us even; perhaps it gives-me a: little advantage."

And as the stranger spoke he drew a revolver from. his

CH APT E R X X I X . pocket anti leveled it at the head of the young man.
. Again Montgomery tried to speak, and the unknown, now

 
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MONTGOMERY gazed after the woman in astonishment.
I A turn in the path, and the trees hid her from his sight.

An us was strangely perplexed.

“ his affair grows more and more mysterious!" he ex-
:laimed, in wonder. “ Who is this woman? I am sure that
[know her. Her Voice is familiar to me in spite of her ef-
forts to disguise it. Whence comes this strange knowledge
that she possesses of my affairs? By JoVe! the whole thing
seems more like a troubled dream than living truth. She
warns me against Leone’s love, yet she does not deny that she
does love me. This is a riddle that I can not solve. Leone’s
love will bring me to ruin! Such was her warning. I have

. it i" he exclaimed, suddenly, as a thought ﬂashed across his
mind. “I will see Leone tomorrow. 1 will question her.
She will tell the truth, I am sure.”

Then a slight noise behind the bushes to the left of the path
attracted Montgomery’s attention.

“ Hello! there’s some one there,” he murmured. “ Can it
be a spy upon our conversation? Perhaps so. By Jove i I'll
see who it is.”

Acting at once upon the resolve, Montgomery cautiously
approached the bushes from whence the noise had come.

All now was still.

As Montgomery advanced, he caught sight of a skulkin
ﬁgure some ﬁfty paces from the clump of bushes. The bac
of the man was toward him, and he was stealing along cau-
tious] , apparently dogging the White Witch.

“ ’ is as I thought,” muttered Montgomery, as his eyes fell
upon the ﬁgure of the man who had evidently been concealed
behind the bushes. “ This man has played the spy and over-
heard our conversation. lIe is now following this mysterious
woman. In turn, I’ll follow him. He is here for no good.
I‘ll learn his errand, and who sent him on it, or I’ll strangle
him. I’ll get on ahead and surprise him as he gees through
the archway.”

guessing his intention, removed his knuckles from his throat.

“ Pipgan l” exolaimed the young man.

Pipgan—for the spy was no other than the Englishman——
uttered an exclamation of surprise.

“ Holloi Who’s this that knows me!"

Then he looked sharply into Montgomery’s face.

“ Mr. Montgomery 1’ the Englishman cried, in astonish-
ment. ~

Removing his knee from the young man’s breast, he assisted
him to rise.

“ Well, 'igger my buttons!” Pipgan said, in utter amuse-
ment. “ {never should have dreamed it was you."

“I saw you following the woman, and thinking that on
were a spy, hired by some one to watch us, I determine to
find out who and what you were,” Montgomery said, recover-
ing his breath.

“ And that was the reason that you pounced onto me, eh?"
saidYPipgan, replacing his revolver in his pocket as he spoke.

(‘  i

“ ’ ell, I couldn’t imagine who it was, so I fought all I knew
ow. ’

“ I never should have guessed that you possessed such
strength,” said Montgomery, looking at the apparently slender
form of the Englishman in astonishment.

“ ’Tain’t the strength, sir,” re lied Pipgan. “ I'm awrestier,
and you ain’t. That’s where T had the advantage. But. it
was the toughest job that I’ve had for man a day.”

“ You overheard the interview between t ' mysterious wo.
man and mys‘eli l’"

“ Every word.”

“ What do you think of it 2" asked Mon mery, anxiously.

“ I’ll tell you better, when I find out w 0 she is," replied
Pip an, ambiguously.

“ on are going to follow her, then?"

“ Yes.”

“ But she requested me not to follow hen".

unwarr-

 
“ Yes; I heard her, but I am not you." .
“ N 0, but you are actin for me.”
“The idea is just here, r. Mon omery. I think that this f

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archway facing southward.
l The little path swept down into a hollow, and a road carried
over it in the hollow, formed the archway.

The month of the archway was quite dark.

When Montgomery reached his post, the dark form of the
White Witch had just disappeared around the angle of the
path leadin to the gate.

“ This fel ow has little idea that he is waited for," Mont~
gomery muttered, as he nerved himself to spring upon the
man who was following the woman so cautiously.

Montgomery was in a fever of nervous excitement. There
is a subtle charm in a man-hunt to all whose blood courses
freely in their veins.

Listening intently, Montgomery heard the stealthy steps of
the spy stealing through the darkness of the archway.

Nearer and nearer came the steps.

Mont omery nerved himself for the coming struggle. Each
muscle in his frame seemed turned into steel. Natural] v vig-
orous, and possessing more than Common strength, he ha little
fear of the approaching contest. Besides, he had on his side
the advantage of the surprise. And he had noted, too, even
with the slight glimpse that. he had caught of the spy, that he
was not a very tormtdable antagonist, or at least, Montgomery
Judged so from his appearance.

'1 he hollow sound of the man’s footsteps grew louder and
louder.

The spy was near at hand.

A dark ﬁgure came from the gloom of the vaulted way.

With the spring of the panther, leaping upon its prey, Mont-
gomery sprung upon the spy

Taken by surprise, the unknown was buried to the earth,
while over him bent Montgomery, his strong hands grasping
him by the throat. .

A moment only did Montgomery enjoy his advantage, the

roduct of surprise; for, with a snake'like motion, the un-
known wriggled himself out of Montgomery’s grip, and with
a sudden twist, rolled the young man from his breast. Des-
perately Montgomery grappled With his antagonist. The

oung man was far superior to the other in strength, but not
In the wiles of the wrestler’s art.

Another snake-like movement, another twist, and Montgom.
ery sprawled over on the earth, while his unknown toe, proﬂt-
ing by his advantage, placcd his knee on. the young man’s
breast, and catching him by the collar, thsted his knuckles
in his throat in a very dextrous manner, that threatened to
strangle Montgomery, off-hand:

“ Well. now you’ve got it, ain’t you?" gasped the unknown,
whose heav breathing gave visible proof of how desperate the
stru gle ha been and what exertions he had made.

hen Montgomery heard the voice of the unknown he
would have uttered an exclamation of surprise had not the
iron knuckles of the other, pressing, lever-like, in lns throat,
hrbade the utterance. .
The unknown I otieed the start of surprise that Montgomery

. mended the policeman, arrogantly.

woman speaks the truth about the agti’e of Three. If I can
ﬁnd out who she is, perhaps I can ﬁnd out also where she gets
her information about you. You’ve ot powerful enemies,
and all means are fair to beat ’em,” sai the Englishman im-
patiently.

“ Your words can not be disputed," Montgomery said,
thbughtfully. _

" But if you say give up the chase, give it up it is. ‘ Obey
orders, though you break owners,’ was always my motto."

“ You think, then, that you can hunt this woman down i”

“ If I don’t, you can ,take my head and bile itas a cabbage!"
cried Pipgan, emphatically. “But, come, decide, quick; the
woman will get out of the way; we are losing valuable
time. t
“ Go; use our own udgment," cried Mont me , hastil .
“ That’s the ticket Pl Pipgan responded, inggoy.ryThe 
glishman had the instincts of the blood-hound in his nature.
“ Where can I ﬁnd you to-morrow at twelve r”

“ At the Fifth Avenue Hotel.”

“ All correct."

And Pipgan a sin followed on the trail.

But, as he ha said, precious minutes had been lost.

The Englishman hurried on without caution now, but whet.
he arrived at the Park gate, the woman was not to be seen.

Eagerly Pipgan looked up and down Fifty-ninth street, but
nowhere could he distinguish the dark form of the mysterious
woman whom he was in search of.

“ Just as I expected l" he muttered in disgust. “ She’s give
me the slip and it‘s all his fault. Why on earth couldn't be
have guessed that it was me that was tracking the woman?
Blow the luck 1” v

Pipgan’s rage attracted the attention of the Park policeman
who was in the little sentry-house by the Kate-

“ First the divil’s the matter wid ass i" said the policeman,
in a rich brogne that betrayed the onnaught man in every
word, as he emerged from his shelter and approached the one
ra ed Englishman.

‘Oh i" and a brilliant idea occurred to Pipgan. “I say, my
friend, did you notice a woman in dark clothes come through
the gate a moment ago i"

“ Is it a woman, now i" said the policeman, relectively. .

“ Yes, a woman.”

“ An’ she had dark clothes f" .

‘ I! Ye.."
“ P’hat the divil should I tell yees for if I did see her i” do-
' . l

Pi gan saw that deception was necessary. ‘ t f

“ ‘he fact is, I think that she is a friend of mine that I used
to know. I passed her a little while ago in the Park, but she
had her face all mufﬂed up in a vail so that I'm. not snre. F
wouldn’t mind standing a triﬂe it youoantoil mwhtchwa
she went.” ‘

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“ But did you see which way she went f"

“ Faith an I did,” said the policeman wish a wink.

“ I'll give a dollar to know,” and Pipgan drew a bill from
his wallet.

“ A dollar is it 1”

“ Yes."

The policeman pocketed it, quickly.

“ Do yees see that car a-goin' down the avenue 1’” and as he
spoke he pointed down Seventh Avenue.

“ The one with the red light 1’”

“ Yis.”

“ She took that car 1”

“ She did that same, bedad l"

“ Thank on i" said Pipgan, hastily, and he started off on a
run down t e avenue in chase of the car.

The policeman watched him with a grin.

“ It’s good legs he has of his own ; it‘s well he’s runnin';
divil a woman have I noticed tonight, at all, at 2111;” and with
a broad grin on his face the guardian of the Patk returned to
his sentry-house.

Pi gan ran after the car at the top of his speed. He had no
sing: man that the policeman had deceived him.

ut luck was on the side of the Englishman, for the vailed
woman had actually got into the very car that the policeman
had pointed out.

The horses attached to the car were proceeding at a sharp
trot, so that Pipgan was compelled to use all his strength to
overtake the object of his pursuit.

Pipgan came up with the car when it halted at the stables
to change horses.

A single glance and he saw that the vailed woman was in
the car.

Congratulatin himself on his success, the Englishman got
on the rear plat orm.

 
CHAPTER XXX.
mrnasm.

Tn car started and the Englishman employed himself in
examining the vailed woman.

Completely concealed as she was by the waterproof-cloak
that she wore, Pipgan gained but little knowledge by his ex-
amination.

She was young; he was convinced of that. There was a
certain graceful outline to the slender form that even the dark
cloak could not conceal. '

The thick vail masked her face from observation,

The Englishman watched her as a cat watches a mouse.
Not a motion of the disguised unknown could escape his search-
in e as.

gAttfir a while the conductor passed through the car collect-

the fares.

hen the vailed woman opened her pocket-book, and gave
the condch the coin. the keen eyes of Pipgan noticed the
little white hand. It was a peculiar hand, ong and slender,
and white as the driven snow, and on one of the slender ﬁn-
gers shone a ring.

Pipgan thanked his luck stars. Here was a clue at last.

In his eagerness the Eng ishmau had pressed his gaze close
to the car window. The masker happened to look in his di-
rection. She saw the face pressed against the glass, the keen
eyes fixed upon her, and she gave a slight start.

Pipgan noticed the movement, saw that he was detected
and mentally cursed his own stupidity. He didnot allow the
woman, however, to see that he knew she had discovered that
she was watched.

Careleasly, he turned his attention to another passenger,
who sat on the other side of the car; then, after a while, he
took I\is face from the window, and retired to the rear of the

latfonn. There, he leaned against the iron rail and specu-

ated upon the chances.

“ She saw me, that’s lain enough,” he muttered; “ but,
does she suspect that 'm watching her? that’s the ques-
tion." .

And as he put the query he noticed that the woman was
looking toward the end of the car as if in search of him.

“ She’s suspicious,” he murmured, as he saw this move-
ment. “ She’s looking after me, that’s evident enough. She
can't elude me, but I don’t want her to suspect that she is
watched. If she discovers that she is, it may block my little
game. I don’t see how it can, very well, but still it may;
there's no telling." ' v .

Then Pipgan—metaphorically—put on his thinking cap.

“ I've got the ideal I‘ve tumbled to it !” he cried, and-
denly, scratching his nose thoughtfully, as he spoke. “ The
next time the car stops, I’ll just change my base of operations

and get on the front platform. She won't be apt to think of _

looking for me there. ' .

Mentally, Pipgan shook hands with himself at the brilliant
idea, which he proceeded to put into operation the next time
the car stopped to take on a passenger.

Gaining the front platform, Pipgan again kept a watchful
eye upon his game.

The woman moved uneasily in her seat. She had evidently
noticed the absence of the man who had attracted her atten-
tion, and, instead of quieting her fears, his sudden disappear-
ance had augmented them.

Pl saw all this and mused upon the cause.
" ain't a bit easyg” he murmured. “ Why should a

-

 
The League .of Three. 39

I

ﬁr
-

stranger just squinting at her, worry her so i” It was a dif-
ﬁcult question to answer, and though the Englishman in
his time had solved many a riddle, this one pulled him.
" My disappearance ought to quiet her; but, she h S'tidently
alarmed.”

The car was crossing Sixth avenue when the vailed woman
made a motion to the conductor to stop.

The watchful eye of Pipgan saw the movement.

“ Another move in the game, eh ?” he muttered.

The car stopped and the woman alighted. Pipgan re-
mained on the car, but kept his eyes on the person. She
proceeded to the sidewalk, turned into the side-street, and dis-
ap'geared.

his was the moment for the Englishman to act. He
jumped from the car and hurried up Broadway. When he
reached the corner of the street down which the woman had
turned, she was not to be seen!

Pipgan cogitated for a moment. e knew that it was clear-
ly ilzlptlssible for her to have wal ed the block that inter-
vened between Broadwa and the next Home in the little
time that had elapsed. herefore, it was plain she must have
entered one of the houses in the block.

“ Well, now, I didn’t expect that my bird was goin to take
shelter here," he muttered. Then he shook his hea , sagely.
“It won't do!” and he chuckled as he spoke; “it's a very
clever trick, but I ain't to be thrown OR the scent so easy.
She's concealed in the street somewhere, in some dark door-
way. She’s got an idea that she is followed, and she wants
to be certain of it. If I stay here, she may get out the other
way. She could glide along in the shadow of the houses with-
out my seeing her, maybe.’

Then, after thinking for a moment, the Englishman made
up his mind.

“I’ll walk through the street; then I can discover if she is
concealed in any of the doorways. It’s dark; Idon’t think
that she would be apt to recognize me.”

But as the Englishman came to this conclusion, be detected
a female form approaching on the other side of the street. .

Pipgan was standing in a deep shadow cast by a projecting
doorway.

“Jigger my buttons i" he cried, in delight; “ it’s my bird.
She crossed over to the other side, doubled on her track, and
has come back. Oh, you’re smart, but you haven’t thrown
me off the scent, my little dear l"

Pipgan crouched close to the wall.

The woman came swiftl along. From the searching
glances that she cast aroun it was evident that she was on
the alert.

Thanks to the darkness, Pipgan escaped observation.

The vailed woman crossed Broadwa , proceeded down the
street to Sixth avenue, and took a car ere. _

Pipgan at a safe distance in the rear, followed. He saw the
woman get on board the car, and when the car started, Pip-
gan was on the front platform, chuckling quietly at his suc-
cess.

“No more rear platforms for me," he muttered; “ my lady-
bird don’t get her e es on me again this night, if I know my-
self, and I think I o.”

The spy kept his eyes upon the vailed woman. He did not
intend that she should escape him.

She made no attempt to leave the car, but rode all the way
down. to the Astor House. .

There she got out, and waited on the corner. Crossing
over to the opposite side of the street, Pipgan once again
availed himself of the shadows of the walls.

The woman did not remain long on the corner, for a Twenty-
third street street stage coming up, she hailed it, and got in-
side.

Pi igan felt annoyed.

“ h, Jerusalem crickets i” he muttered, in despair; “there
isn’t any chance of gettin on the front of that concern.
Shank's mare will have to (0 here. And if she takes a fancy
to go clear to Twenty-third street, it will be a live] old run
for me. But I’ll stick to her, it" she rides all 'over ew York
from now to doomsday." And, from the earnest look upon
Pi gan’s face, it was evident that he meant to keep his word.

p Broadway went the omnibus in which the still-pursued
woman was seated.

Up Broadway went the little Englishman, a sleuth-hound
on the trail.

Luckily for Pipgan, the omnibus made quite anumber of
halts to take up and let down passengers.

The Englishman had a vague idea of trying to get upon the
box of the stage, but concluded not to risk the chanco of
being scented by the game whom he was following so closely.

The Englishman kept just within at ht of the stage. He
did not dare to venture nearer for fear 0 being discovered.

As he followed in the. chase, he congratulated himself that
he had succeeded in evading the notice of the woman.

Never was there an idea with less foundation. _

The vailed woman had detected that she was followed.
Her keen e es, constantly on the watch, had seen the Eng.
lishman fol owing the s , and had recognized him.

“ It is the same man, ’ the vailed woman muttered, in
alarm, as her eyes fell upon the form of Pipgan. He was
just passing in front of a brightly-lighted store, and his figure
was «in! y revealed.

“ ow eon I escape him!" she muttereu. “ He will surely
track me home unless I can contrive to elude him. Why does
he follow me? What eats be his motive f" .

Then a sudden idea ﬂashed upon her min!-

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“ That wil. do,’ she murmu ml ; “ but have I money enough 9"
Then she examined her pocketbook. And by the quick ﬂash
of her black eyes, that even the thick vail could not hide, one
would have guessed that she had hit upon a plan to escape
from the pursuit of her persistent follower.

“ Blessed if this isn’t awful i" muttered Pipgan, in disgust,
as he followed at a sharp pace. “I’ll go in training for the
running championship if I have much of this thing to do."

On went the stage, and steadily the Englishman followed
It.

Street after street was passed, yet the vailed lady descended
not from the stage.

“ This is too much of a good thing,” muttered Pipgan,
breathing heavily and laboriously. “ I likes exercise, but
not in such large doses as this ’ere. Blessed if my wind ain’t
'bout all gone.”

At Union Park the stage halted, and the eyes of the spy
were gladdened by the sight of the vailed woman getting
out.

“ No more shank’s mare i” cried Pipgan, in relief. “ But
what’s the programme now?”

Pipgan’s question was soon answered.

The omnibus rolled on, and the vailed woman entered the
gates of the Park, and was soon lost to sight amid the gloom
of the trees. ~

“ I must follOw her closely here, or else the jig is up,” cried
Pipgan, classically. Acting on the idea, he hurried across tin
intervening square and entered the Park. Scare-iv a moment
had elapsed between the disappearance of the vniled woman
and the entranCe of Pipgan into the Park, yet the dark figure
that the Englishman had tracked so closely was not to be
seen!

A low whistle escaped from the spy’s lips; it was hi way
of ex ressing great astonishment.

“ Vgell—she’s done it now 1” he cried, in rage; “ given me
the slip. by jinksl”

The Englishman guessed how he had been outwitted. The
woman had detected that she was watched, had entered the
Park, and, once inside the gates, had taken to her heels, and,
in the darkness of the Park, a few moments had placed her
beyond the possibility of pursuit. ,

“ She’s got me l” cried Pipgan, in smothered indignation;
“she’s as smart a bird as ever came under my notice. Here
are three paths; which one did she take?”

Who could answer the question ?

“I’ll tr the right-hand one ﬁrst l” Pipgan cried. Then at
the top 0 his speed he ran up the right-hand path.

The path was the one that led around the edge of the Park
'iose to the fence.

Pipgan came to a gate—he darted through it and looked
anxiously around, but no female ﬁgure met his eyes. Then
he returned to the Park again. Each rate that he came to—
there were three, he was making. the Circuit of the Park—he
looked to see if he could discover the vailed woman crossing
the square beyond.

At the last gate—the one on the left nearest to the gate by
which he had entered the Park—lie saw the game again.
She was about to enter a carriage that stood there. Her foot
was on the step.

Pipgan formed a desperate resolve. He saw that, once in
the carriage, she would escape him, as he was without money
to pa another to follow in pursuit.

“ I I can see her face, I’ll know her again 1” he murmured.
“ I’ll do it l”

With a sudden spring he stood by the side of the disguised
woman.

A single motion and the Englishman tore the veil from her

CHAPTER XXXI.
'rrm CLUE.

Hanna! had Pipgan’s hand touched the veil that con-
cealed the features of the mysterious woman, ere he felt a
strong arm around his throat and he was dragged backward
to the ground.

The woman darted into the carriage; the driver on the box
whipped up his horse, and the carriage rolled oti' at a furious
rate of speed. Pipgan did not snowed in seein the face of
the mysterious woman whom he had tracked so ong and pa-
tient] .

Th; Englishman, attacked from the rear and taken by sur-
prise, was carried to the pavement almost without resistance.

A moment only did the unknown, who had made the at-
tack so suddenly, enjoy his triumph, for with one of the sud-
den wrestler twists with which but an. hour or so before he
had set at naught Montgomery's superior strength, Pipgan
freed himself from the grip of his assailant, and Catching the
stranger by the legs, tossed him over in a heap upon the

round.

8 Then Pipgan sprung to his feet, but, as the strug le had
taken up some little time, the carriage had disappears in the
distance. .

With a cry of rage, the Englishman realized that his prey
had escaped him.

A little knot of the” drivers surrounded Pipgan and his sn-
tegonist, who was slowly picking himself up, considt rably
astonished at his sudden t ownt‘ail.

Quite a number of carriages stood by the curbstone.

...pr\-..‘ . .

 
“ Look-a here! what did you throw me over for, say i" do-
manded the fellow that Pipgan had upset so easily, in rising
wrath.

“ What did you pull me over for?" cried Pipgan, his blood
up, and nettled at the escape of the woman.

“’Cos I wanted to,” said the fellow, roughly. “Now you
jest ’poligize or l’ll hurt you, some l” and the man approach-
ed the Englishman, menacingly.

“Did that woman pay you to hold me, you cursed fool.
you ?” cried Pipgan, in an er.

“ Wot’s that to you! ho do you call a fool, say, you
mush-head i’" retorted the man.

“ Let’s have a ring! light it out i” cried one ofthe bystanders.
in delight at the prospect ofa row.

“Give me fair play and I can whip a dozen like this fool,
who poked his nose into other people‘s business!” exclaimed
Pipgan, who now had a great desire to thrash the meddler.

“ Why, I kin eat you up i" said the man, sarcastically, and
indeed he looked big enough to.

“ Try it i” cried Pipgan, quick] , and as he spoke he put
up his hands in a manner, one o the bystanders afterward
said was, “ werry scientific.”

The big assailant and the little Englishman faced each
other; the stranger swinging his long arms around like a
windmill, the Englishman advancing and retreating on his
toes like a dancing-master.

The man made a rush at his nimble antagonist, striking
right and left with tremendous i'orCe, but, the strength of his
blows Were wasted on the air. Pipgan, quick as an eel,
dodged the sledge-hammer blows, slipped under the arm ol
the other, and before he could turn, put in first the “right”
and then the “left” on the brawny throat of the giant, and
the result of which was, the man went into the gutter, all of
a heap.

The Englishman had won, for the man quietly said that be
was “ sat istied.”

“Lay low; here’s a perlicemanl” cried one of the lockers-
on cautiously.

The hint was enough, and the “ meeting ” dissolved.

The Englishman, walking u Broadwa , cursed his ill-luck.

“ Now if this ain’t awfuli’ he ejacu ated in disgust. “I
thought I had a dead sure thing, and this precious cove, that
I’ve just polished oil', had to come in and spile it. It’s been
an awful run ofluck to-day.”

Mentally, Pi pgan asked himself how he could recover the
Lostscent. Vainly he thought. He could not hit upon any

evtce.

“If I ever see her again, I’ll know her, I’m sure of that ”
he muttered. “ I’ll never for t those hands or the litt o
ring. I’m going to find her; ’m sure of it, but I can’t tell
how, though.”

Pipgan proceeded up Broadway at a rapid pace. His steps
were keeping time wit the busy thoughts passing so quickly
across his brain.

“ How odd this whole affair is l” he exclaimed, communing
with himself as he hurried onward. “ I hadn’t an idea that
this Countess of Epernay, as she calls herself, new Mr.
Montgomery. There’s an awful deep game I: it, somewhere.
I must keep my eyes upon her. But, how the devil is it that
this vailed woman, who calls herself the White Witch, knows
anything about it, and why does she warn Mr. Montgomery f
Oh! what a lot of riddles there are here l” and Pipgan look-
ed around him in despair as if he expected to find a solution
of the mystery in the silent houses, or the motionless stones
of the street.

“ How she knows, I can’t guess; that's a thing or two be-

yond my wits, and they ain’t generally considered dull on
either. Now, why does she tell Montgomery 9 Oh i” an
a possible solution of the mystery occurred to the English-
man. -
“ She loves him! that’s as plain as the nose on my face!
She loves him and shc wants to save him from his enemies.
I‘ve got the tail of the rat now i" and Pipgan rubbed his
hands together, gleefully. “ I think I can see my way out of
the bobble. All I’ve got to do is to find the irl that loves
Mr. Montgomery, and at the same time that I iscover her, I
discover the White Witch. She has escaped me tonight, but
she shan’t escape me tomorrow.” '

And then another thought came into Pipgan’s mind. A
thought that made him knit his brows in wonder.

“The White Witch warns Montgomery not to love this
Leone, and et, in the same breath, tells him that this girl
loves him. ow that’s mysterious. She asked him, too, if
he knew the relations that exist between Lionel O’Connel—
pretty name, pity ’tain’t his owu”—and Pipgan laughed quiet-
ly—“ and this girl, Leone. 1 raythor think I could give the

oung man all the information on that point that he wants;
but, l’m afraid it would worry him mm. Talk about tangled
upnaii‘airs; if this one don’t beat any thing that I ever heard
0 .

Then Pipgan walked on for a few paces in silence. ‘

“ I wonder if I could see Mr. Montgomery tonight 7" he
said, suddenly, and then, as if the wish had been a potent
spell. he saw Montgomery coming down the street.

“Did you succeed i” asked Montgomery, eagerly, as they

met.

“ No,” replied Pipgsn.

“ It was my fault then; I detained you; but for that un-
lucky mistake you might have succeeded. I don’t know
where my wtts were. I never thought, even for a single in-
stant, that it was you who had played the spy upon the in!
tervxuw between thismysterious woman and myself; yet, just

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before the woman came, I was wondering where you were,"
said Montgomery, in des air. I

“ Oh, no!" cried the agiishman, quickly, “ it wasn’t your
fault. Ifound‘out from the policeman at the gate which
way she had, gone. She it on a Broadway car; I followed
her; then she took a“ Sixt avenue car to the Astor House;
there she took an omnibus up Broadway; got out at Union
Park, and there gave me the slip by getting into a carriage
and. driving oﬁ.”

“ Could you not follow her?”

“No; she had a little game ﬁxed to stop me. I suppose
she discovered that itwasnt much use to change from the
cars to the ’bus, be‘cause I could do that, too—you see, sir, I
was unlucky enough to let mySelf be caught watching her.

, she arranged a nice little plan to throw me off the track.
Just as she was getting into the carriage, I rushed forward
and snatched the vail from“ her face,- it was the only thing I
could do, you know, because I knew the dodge game was up,
for I hadn’t money enough tough"; r ﬁnger wehickle to
:feep :p the chase; and I was ' tirzd ink of running

ter er."

“ You took the vail from her face?” asked Montgomery,
eagerly.

u Yea."

“Then you saw her features?"

“ No; she darted into the carriage, and a beast'of a driver,
that probably had had a tip from her to stop me, caught
me by the throat and tumbled me over like a sucker wheat.
Byh the time I got on my feet, the carriage had got‘out'of
sig t. '

“ She probably paid the fellow to stop you,” said Mentgom-
ery, thoughtfully. V

“ Exactly and I d‘him with a couple of hot un’s under
the ear,” said the nglishm'an, in a tone of extreme satisfac-

on. ‘

“ Whatl you‘fought with him?"

“Bless on, it warn’t a ﬁght!" exclaimdd' Pipgau, con-
temptuous y; “he was a big fellow but no match for me.
Why, I've put on the gloves with dam Mace himself across
the water, you know.”

“Then you have not been able to gain an information
as to who or what this mysterious person is!’ Mentgomery

I ,

d.

“ 0h. 0‘, I 118%!" re lied the Eu lishman uickl . “ I
lay tz’vo tyo one that I ‘ﬁgd out who gshs is bdl‘gre a geek is
over.

“ You have a clue?" ’

“ Yes; I saw her hand, ands ring 'on her fin in"

" And can such a triﬂing discovery as that ai you r” Mont-
gomery asked, in wonder. . V I V

“ Triﬁingi Why, I‘ve known a little discovery like‘th‘at to
han a man,” replied Pip it; quickly.

“ ithin sweet you ‘ yi’ I r >

“ Yes' but, vernor, I want some money,” th‘e‘_ English.
man‘said. “ ve‘gbt'to put on my swell toga gnaw-mar.
row. ’

Pi gun was dressed in a rough, dark suit.

“ ery well; how much?" _ I

“ 011, a few hundred. I say, governor, I heard all that
vailed woman said about the League of ThreeJ

“And do you believe that it exists i" asked Montgomery,

uickl . .
q “ Will, I' don’t know," replied the Englishman, thought-
fully. “ Queer things happen in this world. But, what I
was going to say was, do ’you want me to ﬁnd out the truth
about the League if I can ”

“ Yes; do so,“ b all means," exclaimed Montgomery.

“ All correct. ’ve an idea that, in following on the track
of the White Witch I shall only stumble on the Lea e. By
the way, overnor, I want to ask you a question. on’t be
offended, cause it’s business. Is there a girl that thinks a
great deal of you-that loves you i" .

“ Yes; you heard what the vailed woman said.”

“ About Miss Leone f"

as Ya." '

“ But is there another girl i”

" Weil—” 'Montgome hesitated, “ I am not sure that there
a an one else cares aug t for me—"

" at you have a suspicion f"

u 

“ What’s her name i"

“ Agatha Chauncy.”

“ And her residence f”_

Montgdmery gave it, and Pian noted it down in his
memorandum- it.

“ Why do you w' ,h to know this i”

"1‘" 0N7 9. with? governor, that'sall. Will the money
heureadyntoLmorro r” ipga‘n axed,

“it; tile mamas chaos

 
OHAI’TER XXXII.
o’conm’a can
Lronr. 000an was seated in the luxuriantly furnished
parlor of the Chauncy mansion.
It was early in the afternoon, and the warm an was stream-
insin ireel throu h the windows.
‘Conn'e glen around him with an air of intense satis

 
i
7 I . x *1

" This isn’t bad," he murmured, pullin the ends of his Tong
mustache, reﬂectively, as he spoke. “ ery thing is rich
and costly. I wonder if it is my fate to come into all this?
I suppose it will go to Frances; but, sta , there’s the othq
sister, Agatha. Now, I wonder which 0 the twolowns-the
property. If I remember rightly, I heard Roche say that’the
estate of the father was not to be divided until he was
twenty-one. She’s the younger child, I sup hi Fran-
ces is a catch—a beautiful girl and plenty oi money. All‘ for
Tulip Roche, eh?” and 0'
as he spoke. 1

“Oh, no i” he murmured, with decided em hasis; “m
dainty little Tulip has money enough already. t him ‘100
elsewhere; Frances is not for him. I

Then a thought occurred to O’Connel, and he laughed out.
right at it. I

“ How cleverlyI have used these two msn'to pnllmy
chestnuts out of the ﬁre, like the cat in theifahle. A League
of Three; aha! and to me, the chief of  League, all the
beneﬁt! It is the way of the world; to,ohe,ail; to therut,
nothing. How cleverly I put the ten-thousand-dnllar paid
into my pocket on the night when Tulip andI astonished
Montgomery, and no one the wiser for it. Safe: in schemes
have all succeeded. Now I must deal Roche a b ow. Ilse
crushed Montgomery from my path; he was a giant. Rocha
is a pigmy compared to Angus Montgomery, so I’ll brush
him away. A few words in the ear of my proud Frances,
and Tulip Roche will never set foot within these doors again.
[am the master, and these men are my tools, which,afta’r
use, I cast away. Poweri there is no power in this world
like that that comes from brains and nerve.”

Then O’Connel’s meditations were cut short by the rustle
of a silk dress. , , .

A Emile lighted up O’Connei’s face as he listened to the
soon. ... ..  .
d “.She'is coming,” he murmured; " a few more minutes will

eci e.

Frances entered theroom.   . i-  .

Dressed in a robe of azure silk, she looked prettier than
ever. ‘ . . _ , .. . . .
O’Connel rose and bowed gallautly as shamroached. , , ,
“ I am glad you have called,” she said, a s on her face
as she gave him her hand.

Then she sat on the sofa by his side. ._ ,v , . ,

O‘Connel had always been a great favorite with,

His brilliant, dashy way; the delicate homage thatho. d to
her beauty and accomplishments—all had their inﬂuence upon
the mind of the blonde beauty. . , - _ H

“Now you can hardly guess haw delighted I am like!

you say thati" he exclaimed, in his lively way. I

“Indeed!” replied Frances. “Well, then, to please yea.
I’ll as. it eve time that you call.” ,

‘,‘ hati w other it be the truth or not!" , ,h ,. .

“But it will always be the mat," Frances retorted. with
one of her brightest-smiles. .. . . . .

“ Ah, you must not speak in that way or I shall ehtgr the
list,,with MLRoche, and he’ll ﬁnd me a desperate,ri ’ ex»
clailr‘ned O’Connel, watching the face of the girl 1 as he
spo e. ‘ . i . . . 
“Idon’t understand what.you can poniny main: ,,d
Frances, with a look of appamm astonishment, and a s in
blush swept rapidly across her face. ,. , . .

“ Why, I thought that—that is, I mean thatI heard that
Mr. Roche was going to follow Mr. Montggmery’s example."

Frances hit her lips at the mention of out omery‘s name.

“Follow his example i" she said, as if in oubt. “ hat
do you mean? lose all his money—J believe that Mr. ont-
gomery has lost all his money, hasn’t he?"

“ Nearly all, I believe,” O‘Connel replied; “ but I did not
mean that. Instead of losing he is going to gain; gain what
poets calls a treasure.”

“ Indeed?"

“ Yes, a eat treasure.” , y , .

“ Why on’t ou explain? You are a horrid tease, Mr.
O'Connei,” said rances, pouting in assumed anger,

“Oh, am If Well, I never was accused of that before,
but I’ll relieve your anxiety. The treasure is 9. wife.”

“ Mr. Mont omery you mean f”

“ Both Mr. ontgomeryand Mr. Roche.” , U  , .
Rs; understood that Mr. Montgomery was engaged, but Mr.

e_n ‘ g ‘2

“ And really were you not aware ofhissngagememf” asked
O’Connei, in amazement.

st No.» ‘ l l I .

“ Really f" repeated O’Connei, asif unable to erodithisheas

5‘ Yes, may. Why should you think  f" Frans.
asked unable to guess the reason for .thaqnesﬂom. .

“ Well, that is certainly very strange i" said O'Connei, ap
patently greatly astonished.

“ What is very strange f" .  . . ,., .. _
“ Why, that you should not know that Mr. Roche was .-

‘ How could I know it i" .

“ You should know it, for you are the lady that report. I.”
he is to marry ” said O’Connel, and as he he um“
the eﬁect of his words With great imam .

“ Mr. Roche engaged to mel" Frances was annoyed at th.
news. She had not seen 'I‘uli since the day when he had
visited her with Stoii. He hnti called thrice i0 .0 M. N
eaﬁhytim: she had been out.

a.

onnel laughed, quietly to himself“

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42 Hunted Down; or, The League of Three.

 
“ Does he my so i” asked Frances, an angry thought taking
possession of her mind that, perhaps, Tulip had boasted that
she would now come back to him, since Montgomery had
brolken faith with her. The thought was wormwood to the
gir .

“ I— --” and O’Connel hesitated, in rest confusion.

“Mr. O’Oonnel, I ask ybu as a frien , to tell me the truth.
Has Tulip Roche reported that I was en aged to be married
to him?” asked Frances, a bright red spot gaming in her wax-
like cheeks. ,

“ My dear Miss Frances, consider the osition that you
place me in,” said O’Connel, earnestly. “ ‘ousider if I an-
swer the question, I may betray—l say may, mind, I do not
say that I will—but I may betray the man that I am proud to
call my friend.”

Frances looked at O’Connel’s face for a moment in silence.

“ You need not answer the question, Mr. O’Connel,” she
said, at length. “ I will not ask on to betray the confidence
reposed in you. I am glad that t ore is one man in the world
that respects friendship. I read the truth in our face.”

“ I hope that you do not believe that—” 'Connel paused
in. the midst of the sentence.

“ I will. not ask! you an questions. I am satisﬁed," Fran-
ces replied, meaningly. “ do not know what you have heard,
but I trust that you will believe me when I say that I am both
heart and hand free."

O'Connel bowed.

“ It is a foolish matter, I suppose, to be annoyed about, but
it does annoy me," Frances said, pettishly.

“ Ah 1 I wish—1’ and then he paused in his speech.

“ What do you wish?” she asked, softly.

“ That‘I had the right to protect you from all such reports,"
he said, ﬁrmly. 1

Frances, with-a grateful look, thanked him for his speech,
and, then, with a half-blush, cast down her eyes. She read
lsomething in his earnest gaze that she had never thought of

e ore.

“ Havel your permission to contradict this report i” he
asked, softly; . - r

“ Yes," she replied, raising her eyes again to his. “ I have
not even-seen ‘ Mr. Roche for some time. If I remember
rightly, the last time I saw him he called here with Mr. Stoll;

es, I am sure that was the last time. I am sure, because
they told, me about Mr. Morﬁgomery’s engagement with some
French lady", and'you and r. Montgomery and the lady—I
ruppose it'was the lady he was engaged to, for she looked
like a foreigner—drove pastlthe house that forenoon.“

“ Eh i" and O’Connel looked astonished. “ Were ou told
on‘ that day thilt Mr. Montgomery was engaged to the ountess
of E emay i—that is the name of the French lady.”

“ es",”of course," and Francos wondered at the question.

“ There’s some terrible mistake here. Who told you i”

“ Mr. Stoll; and when I'wondered at it, be appealed to Mr.
Roche, a'nd‘he conﬁrmed it,” said Frances, who began to have
a dim suspicion that she was going to hear something un-
pleasant. ‘ ' ' / ' '

" I can’t understand it- at all i" exclaimed O’Connel, in
wonder. . “ Why, my dear Miss Frances, when they told you
that Mont omery was engaged to the lady, he hadn’t been
acquainte‘if with the lady but a few hours. It was about
eleven o’clock v that day when I met Mr Montgomer Mr.
Sioll, and Mr. Roche on Broadway. They had tol Mr. ont
gomery about'th'e beautiful unknown, as they called her, and
knowing that I was acquainted with the lad , Mr. Montgom-
ery asked me to give him an introduction. did so; then we
went out in the carriage through the Park, and then home.
Montgomery and I left the lady together. So, you see, at the
time that they reported that he was engaged to her, he hadn’t
even been alone with the lady."

d This disclosure came upon Frances like the. shock of a thun-
erbolt.

She saw that she had been deceived, and she guessed at
once that TuligiRoche had forged the story in order to sepa-
rate her from ontgbmery.

Frances'vface first grew white and then red. Her rosy nails
were‘ buried in the snow-white palms. She bit her lips to
keep back the an ry words that rose from her heart.

O’Connel watcﬁred the young irl’s face narrowly, yet ap

arentl he saw nothing; He re her thoughts in the vary

nil” e'x ression of her face.

He lau ed to himself.

Tulip" che‘now would never win Frances Chauncy.

He felt as if the game was in his hands already. .

“ I can not understand the reason for such a deception,”
O’Gonnel'sal’ii',“sfter a long pause.

“I can ” replied Frances, raising her head slowly. “They
acesmpli 'ed‘ztheir purpose. It was a noble act; only a gen-
tleman"-—and-bitter Was the tone in which she pronounced
tbspwoi'duv".t wouldehave thought of such a dame. But is
not Mr. Montgomery engaged to this lady i”

“ Yes, but it was only yesterday that the engagement was
made)?» 'I.’ t'ii' vii JV. 1., ‘i ,u', :..

“ Yesterday?" Frances said, mechanically. Her thou hts
were far away._ Again she saw Montgomery stand be ore
her in the gloomy parlor ; again the scene of separation came
back to her memory.

How bitterl now she regretted her words. But the deed
was done. M’on cry and she were as strangers to each
other; Her own 1 ps had decreed it.

“ By the way 9’ said O'Connei, as if anxious to change the '

conversation, ‘ l’ve had some good news lately from across
the water."

)

 
*3

“ Indeed i” said Frances, with an effort rousing from her ab-
straction ; “ I’m glad of it.”

“ I felt sure that you would be," he said. “ My elder bro~
ther, whose temper drove me from home, is dead, and all his
property comes to me. My laWyers write that it will realize
about ten thousand pounds; that s over ﬁfty thousand dollars
in our money here.” ‘

“ You wil still remain in New York ?”

“ Oh, yes l’.’ he answered, quickly; “ there is a tie that binds
me to this city. There is something here—a jewel of great
value—that I crave.‘ When I was only a poor journalist, I
did not dare to hope to [win it, but now, perhaps, there is a
chance for me." ‘ -

Frances blushed at his earnest words and still more earnest
eyes. She guessed that she was the jewel.

 
CHAPTER XXXIII . J ,,
_ 'rmr SNARE. ,
‘LEONE was pacing restlessly up and down her apartment.
A look of deep anxiety was on her handsome features.

“ Three o’clock," she murmured, consulting her watch,
“he will soon come then. Ohl it is agony to reﬂect that I
am forced to betray that I love so Well. But I can not help
it. I am in the toils, and must do my master’s will.” ,

Then her quick ear heard the sound of Montgomery’s foot-
steps in the entry approaching her door. She had learned to
know her lover's footsteps from all other: ' a

“ It is he," she murmured. ,

.,Montgomery knocked lightly at the door. ,

“ Come in,’ said Leona, her voice trembling with joy.

The young man enters the reom. I

He extended his hands toward the girl; e erly, with a
bright smile of joy upon her-face, she , gave hersef up to her
lover’s baresses. ‘ u

“ Are you glad to 'see me i" he asked, smoothing back the

dark hair from the white forehead and gamng fondly in the.

upturned face that nestled on his breast.

“ Can you doubt it i” she replied. H  ,

“ Nol’ he exclaimed, touching with his lips the low, sweet
forehead. . , ~ _ ,

‘“ But come,'sit downﬁ'fhe saids ‘fI've something to say
to Kris, Leone. ’ '

. shade passed over the girl’s face, and a strangelexpres-
sion shone in her dark e as same words fell u n her ears.
It. was but momentary, an Montgome noticed xftynoi.

Leone released herself from t s cm race of her lover and
pushed a lar e cushioned  with hu e arms to-
ward him. ontgomery seated mself in it. an Leone
brought a small chair, and placing it by] the side'of the other,
sat down in it, resting her arms upon er lover’s, and with a
smile, wherein anxiety was strangely blended with aﬂection,
waited for Montgomery to speak. '

“Leone, in order that you shall fully understand whatI
wish to say to you, it is necesSary' to speak a little of my past
life,”- he said, gazing earnestly into the face of the girl. ‘ A
mouth or so ago I ‘was worth over 'a hundred thousand dol—
lars, and was engaged toibe married to abeautiful and wealthy
girl, one of the rei ning belles in New York. One night, at
a masquerade in ewpor a woman dressed all in white, and
who called herself the hits Witch, predicted that within
one month 01' one year, I would lose both in fortune and the
lady that I loved. The menth has expire . Nearly all the
prediction has been fulﬁlled. The lady broke the vows that
she had made, and h aseries of disasters I have lost almost all
my fortune. Now am coming to the part that concerns

on. When I left you yesterday, as I was passing down
stairs, a letter was handed to me. It was from the m teri-
ous woman who, at Newport, had called herself the hits

Witch. It contained'a request that I should mectthe writer
at a certain place at ninein the evening, and also told me that
more misfortunes threatened me.

“ I kept the appointment and met the woman. She Was
carefully disguised. Now, Leone, judge of my astonishment
when I feund that she knew of our engagement. She warned
me a ainst your love—said that it wasa fatal passion than
woul drag me to my ruin." ' ' "

“And do you believe her words?" asked Leone uietly,
and looking full into Montgomery’s face with her, r lliaut.
dark eyes. . .

“ Leqne, have I» said that I believed her?" replied Mont-
gomery‘, ‘re’prOachfully. ’ '

“ No,” Leone said, with a sad smile.

“ Leone,” and Montgomer passed his arm fondly around
the little “waist of the girl as 0 spoke, “ is your love fated to
bring me to ruin?" ' " .

“ How can I tell? Can I read what is in the future f But.
Angus, perhaps there is a way to lvoitl the war"  " '

“ How i”  _ .

“ Give me up,” and Leone hid her face on his breast as she
spoke. ‘ ,w ,,.,.

“ Give you up i" cried Montgomery, «loony. “ Oh Leone,
you can not guess the pain that thosetsw words give me;
and can you speak them Calmly i"

The girl ‘did not reply, but kept her face hid.

“ Leone, you do not answer,” he said.

“ “I can not,” she murmured, him

“ Wt up your head and let me at your fees," he said,
after a moment’s pause. ' ‘

“ No. no." she murmured.

 
a

 
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A- ~_N  ......_._..

 
Hunted Down; or, The League of Three. 43'

 
“ Leone," he said, reproach fully.

The tone touched her. Slow y she raised her head until
her eyes met those of Montgomery.

A single look into her face and the lover read the truth.

The tear-drops were glistening in the large, black eyes.

" The thought does giVe you in t" he exclaimed.

“And yet, for your sake, I Will bear it,” she said, earnestly.

“ You will give me up!’

I Ya.”

“ And do you think, even for a single instant, that I would

rmit you to do such a thing 1’” he cried, quickly. “ Leone

begin to believe that you 0 not fully realize how much I
do love you.”

“ But, if that love is to prove your ruin—” she said, faintly,
again sinking her head down upon his breast.

“ Let it come! I care little for the future if I have your
love to bless and cheer me. Let the road of fortune be rough
or smooth, I care not, so long as I know that I am battling
for you. Leone, you don’t know what a great thing it is for
a man to ice! that there is one heart in this world that he can
call his own. It gives one double courage in the great life-
ﬁght. Love is the most powerful motive that this world has
ever known.” . 1

With closed eyes and a beating heart, the girl listeneii‘ to
the passionate words. They were as the waters of life to her
crushed and bleeding heart. The future rose before her
bright and beautiful. She saw herself the happ wife of the
man on whose bosom her head rested. She felt t e throbbing
of that heart that beat for her alone.

“ Angus ” she said, raising her head slowly, until her eyes
met his, “I have said that I loved you, and those words are
cold and feeble to eXpress the feelin that is in my heart.
You are all in all to me—m world! our love would make
al my future life one bliss u! dream. Your love builds for
m a red and glorious castle, but it is a castle in the air; no
morta foot can reach it. I must ﬁrst walk through the dark
valley of death; then, perhaps, I may enjoy the dream of hap-
piness that now is only a dream.”

“ Leone, if my love can make you happy, then you will be
happy. I have your promise, and no. power on earth can
prevent me from claiming you as my wife 1” exclaimed Mont-
gomery, ﬁrmly. . ' _ .

“ But I am almost a stranger to you," the girl said, wrth
downcast eyes.

“ I have faith! This mysterious woman last night tried to
shake my conﬁdence in on. She bid me ask you concerning
your relations with this ionel O’Connel.

Leone could not repress a slight start.

“ Why are you agitated I” asked Montgomery, noticing the
impulsive movement of the girl. I

“ Angus, I can not tell you,” said Leone, quick] .

“ Then there is something in the words of t e woman?
There is a secret understanding between you and O'Connel f”

“ Yes,” Leone replied, slowly.

“ And that, secret .’

“I can’t tell on now,” Leone answered.

“ Will there a time when you can reveal this secret to

I! '

“ ” s answered a erl . v ' _
"iii: if” :31 ask; I imagsatizﬁed with that assurance,”

Mont omer said calmly.

“ Yﬁu stil’l' love,me i'” Leone asked, earnestly. ’

“ Love you! yes! as deeply as ever man loved womanl’
Montgomery answered, impulsively. '

“ Even when I tell you that thereis a secret connected with
my life that I can not reveal to you t” Leone asked, With her
dark eyes ﬁxed eager! on Montgome s face.

“ Leone, I love an trust [on i". outgomery exclaimed
and again he drew the head 0 the girl to his heart, and kissed
the ri , red lips, so fresh in their dewy sweetness.

“ on do love me !” Leone said, softly.

“ How well, you will one day learn,” he replied.

Then to the mind of the girl came the sickenin thought
that she had a task to perform; the will of O‘Conne to can
out. And even at the very moment when Montgomery s
strong arms were pressing her to his heart, and his deep voice
was whispering the sweet words that told of love and joy
eternal, she must close her ears to the honeyed melody, and
soil her mind 'with schemes of deception—nets of lies to entrap
the noble heart on which her head was pillowed.

Oh! how'she longed for freedom from the bonds that bound
her to that iron master’s will. ”

“An s, there has been a sudden change in my fortune,
she sai , in hesitating accents.

“Yes; 1 know," he interrupted, gently caressing the silken
locks that covered the sha ely hea .

“ You know 7" she “keg, in astonishment.

“ Yes; I met O’Connel as I entered the hotel. He told me
all about the‘loul of your ropert . Leone, will you not let
me  yggr banker t" he as ed, wily.

‘ ou

“ Yes; 1 Shin charge you a terrible interest—payable in
kisses," and he laughed lightly as he spoke.

“ A3801. 1°“ “'0 “’0 W to me,”‘she murmured. Mont-
gomery did not notice the bitterness in her tones.

“ Good? Not at all I” he replied. “ Luckily I've my check- .

book with me.”

A table with pea and ink stood near Mon mery’s chair.
He drew it up to him and tore a check out of t e book.

“ You will soon be my wifaLsme; do rathhesltate {.10 ﬁoi
eept slittleot our property vanes. tsum s a
put as the out; i” ‘

 
“ Why, I—” Leone hesitated, she hardly knew how to an-
swer.

“ I have it!” Montgomery exclaimed. “I’ll leave it blank
—just sign my name 10 it. You can ﬁll it up with any sum

on like. It is ‘to order;’ and that you shall have no trou-

le, I’ll step down to the bank to-morrow morning and
give instructions in regard to it. These paying-tellers are
terrible careful fellows, and there might be some trouble about
t.’

Then Montgomery signed his name to the check and gave
it to her. '

She took it almost mechanically.

“That’s good for thirty thousand dollars, pet; that’s all
that I have left in the world, but I don’t suppose you will
need quite so large a sum as that,” and Mont omery laughed.

Leone hid her face in her hands. She coals not speak; her
heart was too full. _

“Don’t look sorrowful,” said Montgomery, as, rising, he
drew her slight ﬁgure fondly to his breast. “ I must say good-
by for the present. I have a business appointment at four
oclock. I will come again to-night.” _

” In the future I hope to be able to prove to you how much
I love you,” Leone murmured asshe clung fondly to the breast
of her lover.

‘ ‘ Good-by.”

Again and again Montgomery pressed the soft, loving lips.
It is so hard for lovers to part.

“ I am not worthy of his love i" Leone cried, in despair, as
the door closed behind her lover. “ I have given him into
the hands of his enemies; betrayed to ruin the man that loves
me! Oh! I will not carry out this vile scheme! O'Connel
shall not have this check; I’ll destroy it at once i”

But a strong hand wrested the precious paper from her.

 
CHAPTER XXXIV.
ax nnwrnnme msrnumurr.

Leon: turned in astonishment and beheld Lionel O’Con-
ne .

“ Oh, no, m dear l” he said, sneeringly, and putting his
hand that he! the note behind him, “ this precious bit of pa-
per is not to be destroyed.”

Angry ﬁres ﬂashed from Leone’s e es.

“ one], give me back that paper ” she cried.

“ Hello!” he said, in pretended amazement; “is that the
tone to address me with? You are forgetting yourself, my
dear Leone.”

“ I will be your slave no longer !" she cried. “I will not?

betray the man that loves me so well. I know that you mean
to use that paper to work him evil. You shall not if I can
prevent it."

“ Le0ne, again I as that you are fo ttin yourself,” said
O’Oonnel, coolly, an not at all aﬁ'ectelgeby the girl’s passion~
ate outburst.

“ No but I have forgotten—forgotten all that was good, and
stooped to all that was evil at your bidding. I will do so no
longer!” All the ﬁre in Leone’s nature was roused;'uudaunted
she faced the cool and smiling man who seemed only to laugh
at her an words. ' - ’

“ You 0 not remember a certain promise, then?" he said,
meaningly.

“ Yes, do remember; but I am sure that she to whom I
gave that promise will look down from her home above and
absolve me from it, when she knows the dreadful deed that
you wish to force me to commit l” replied the girl, spiritcdly.

“ You will not listen to reasrm, then?"

“ No! give me back that paper !”

“ And if I do not ?” asked O’Connel.

“I will 0 to Angus Montgomery—”

“What ” and a ﬁerce light blazed in O’Connel's eyes as he
uttered the exclamation. “ You will go to Montgomery f”

“ Yes, and tell him of the snare that his love for me, and
m weak compliance with your command has led him into.”

Leone did not quail before O’Connel’s frown, but faced him
with a face as angry and a will as ﬁrm as his own.

“ I have always taken you to be a sensible girl," he said,
slow! . - ‘

“ Aim now do you change your opinion because I will not
betr'aiy the man that I love i”

“ on prefer, then, to betray me?”

“ Betray on f” she said, in wonder .

“ Yes, ofy course. You agreed to perform this service for
me. In consideration of that service, I agreed to release you
from the promise—which, mind, I did not ask you to make
—which binds you to follow my fortunes, be they good or be
mngad; Have I not stated the truth?”

es '

“ Well, then, you break your word with ,me, do you not!
You betray me. ’ .

“ Be it so ; I do betrav you,” said Leone, ﬁrmly.

“ You have decided 3”

u Yes I!

“ Don’t you think that you had better wait awhile, give the
matter a little thought and not answer so hastily l” O'Conne]
said coolly.

“ It is useless. I shall not change my mind 1 have 'de
cided, for the ﬁrst time in my life. I kndw what the ion
of love is. I have never felt it before; but now, it lls my
heart. sways my nature. and creates a new life for ml"

“k.

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44 ' Hunted Down; or,

4

“For the ﬁrst time in your life you are doing something
stu id,”, O'Connel said, with a sneer. “ Why do you attempt
to ght against me? The contest is useless. I have marked
Mont emery out for ruin; hunted him down inch by inch as
the b oodhound runs down its prey. And now that the quarry
is at my feet, my hand raised to give the coup do ‘main—‘ the
master-stroke’-that crushes the man I hate helpless to the
earth, ou coolly tell me to forego my vengIean‘Ce, and refuse
the ai you promised me. Upon my word, eone, either you
are crazy or I am," and O’Connel laughed loudly. ,

There was a hidden menace in his merriment that grated
harshly on Leone's senses. , .

“Taunt as you (please Lionel; you will ﬁnd that I’ll keep
my word,” she sai , coldly.

“ And you will find that I wi-l keep mine i” he cried, quickly.
"Do you take me for a man of wax and think to mold 'me as
easil I No, Leone you will do my, will!”

“ ionel O’Conne , you are foolish to think so l"-Leone re-
sponded, ﬂrml .

“ Oh, am I ” he said, with latent sarcasm. “ Just listen
to me for a moment and perhaps you may change your opin-
ion. You told me some time ago that you intended to tell
Mont emery of the past. I suppose that you meant that you
woul tell him of the dark tragedy that c ouds some eventful
hours of your life."

“ Yes, tell him’all,” Leone answered.

“ Tell him of your share in the transaction f“

“ Yes."

“ And do you think that he will marry you when he
knows all I” there was a peculiar metallic ring in O’Connel‘s
voice.

“ If he loves me as well as I love him, he will," Leone an-
swered. ,

“But there is a doubt. Look back at the past! Let me
call to your memory a room in an old English manor house,
lighted only by a single candle. A man and a woman sit in
that room. Suddeniydanother man entersi with a gun in his
hand. Angry words ii the air; a shot fol ows that spills hu-
man blood. Two persons, alone, know who 'ﬂred that shot,
as the thirdone of the three was killed by theshot. Supposp
I, overcome by the tortures of a guilty conscience—go before
a police-magistrate, confess my share in the crime and give
the name of the women who did the deed i” , V

Leone strated in aﬂright, while O’Connel gazed upon her
with a look of triumph.

“ You would not surely be so base f" she cried, in horror.

“ Tr me, and you will ﬁnd!" he replied, ﬁercely. “ Leone,
as wel m' ht the drowning man, sinkin helpless in the wa-
ters of mi ocean, call upon the heaving illows to spare him
as for on to make me, spare, Angus Mont emery, now that I
have im in my power You perceive, hold you in fet'
ters. Do my Will in this, and I will ive this man up to you
as I promised. You can tell him w at story you p ease; I
will not contradict it. Come, do you agree f”

“ Oh, I am utterly in your power 1” Leone cried, despair-

ingl . .

“ Yes, that is the word, ‘ utterly ’ l” he said, with an accent
of triumph.

“ I must obey—you force me to do it,” and Leone sunk into
a chair, burying her face in her hands;

“Now you are sensible. I had an idea that some foolish
whim might enter your head—I know what follies this ‘ love ’
makes us all commit—so, when I saw Montgomery enter the
hotel, I followed him up-stairs. Luckily for my purpose, the
room adjoining your bedroom was empt . and a door leads from
it into your apartment. I knew this. I’ve a capital little key
here," and O‘Connel took a small skeleton key from his vest

ocket. “ It opened the door between; so, concealed in our

edroom, I overheard all that passed between on two. by,
Leone, you really astonished me. I had no 1 ea that you had
so much tenderness in your nature. Wh have you hid it all
these long years f” and O’Connel laughe his cynical laugh.

“ Lionel, spare me your word,” Leone said, faintl . “ Is it
not once b that I am helplessly in your power Do not
taunt me ecauseI am weak enough to love the man, who,

haps, when he knows my sad story, may turn from me in
oathing."

“ Beauty is like charity, Leone, and covers a multitude of
sins. One look in your eyes, one touch of your lips, and
Montgomery will take you to his heart, forgive and forget all.
But now having come to an understanding, I sa adieu for
the present. I’ll call in again this evening as come up-
town. ’

Then with a 1i ht step, O’Connei left the room.

The hot tears lied Leone’s eyes.

Tears relieve the heart overweighed with. sorrow.

Tears are nature's remedy for the hurt spirit.

The willow wand bends that it may not break. I

O'Connel's face, as he descended the stairs, showed plainly
the satisfactbn that filled his heart, . , .

“ Who says that fortune is a ﬁckle jade?” he murmured.
" To me her smile has ever been fairand constant. How quick-
ly I broke the girl to m will. She is a stubborn piece of we-
manhood. It is as wel that we are to separate. . ..

“ How every thin seems. to prosper with me. My will
works like witchcraﬁt. I think that I am sure of ances
Chauncy. I put Tulip Roche out of the question by my dis-
closure of his treachery. How nicely my chestnuts have been
pulled out of the ﬁre without my having to endanger my
own dainty paws! Tulip Roche rids me of Montgomery;
then Tulip. b his own set, rids me of himself. The field is
clear. and I 0 favorite, booked to win in a center.” O’Con-
ssi laughed. mu

 
r‘he League of Three.

.L‘V ,

“Now, I must ﬁnd this Ment'gomery. M'Kc'onseiehdll
preaches me for the part that I, have“ taken iyn aiding Reel;
and Stoll in their infamous designsﬂupon him. I’ll make a
clean breast of it, and then, Montgomeg' ean fight'ROChe and
Stoll. That’sa glorious ideal” and  csnel‘ at} bed ag’a .
.s It Montgomeryand Roche'hatga‘e ch other,” bit rl'yéas', they
should, there is a strong prob'a iii y thatt'he're‘ will 31 con-
ﬂict between them. One, or perhaps both, may be ren'ﬁved
from my way. Ah,thiz e’s Montgomery, new}: U, , , , , I .

O’Connel had caug'h [sight of the young manlst‘anding in
front or the hotel, awarentiyywaiting' for so e'on‘e.

O’Connel tapped o'nt'gome‘ry'on‘ the she later. > ‘ ;

“Montgomery, I was looking for you; I have somethingof
great importance that I wish toe ﬁt ,y'ouﬂ ' 4

“Indeed! What is it ?’,’ pske .ont'go‘merym little as
tonished at the odd beginning, as 'well as At the earnest face
of the other. 4 , K V I ,l

“ Before I can speak, I must ask, you 'to ' give me our pro-
mise that you will not reveal to a,’ y‘ one from be yours.
ceived the information that I am outytoimp _ "

,“Certainly; I wiil‘give 011 um. romise' w. mag Mont-
gomery replied, althou'h e co‘ul not divine ‘w ysuch a
pro ":e should be‘needged. ,  . n  .  ,,

“ ithin a short time some hea'vy misfortunes hays oc
curred to you, I believe." , n, .

Montgomery started. , He looked at O’Connel, in Wonder.

“ Yes, you are correct." I have en very unlucky." ‘

" Unlucky in having a false friend and a bitter enemy,
though an openo e."., , , , . , I ~

“I do not uh erstand,” Montgome said, slowly; betas
he swim, back to his mind came the t ought of the words of
the hite Witch. ,. , - ., ,,. ,-
,“A few words will explain. I30 not as tit
into possession ‘of e I, . p
to aus'vver you. All these misfortunes t, at liaveco

5 'how I‘ca'me

esitated to stoop to sums to decom’ heir shims.”

“Bartho etyvp men’l’. .,,,., ‘ , .. ' .,,,, .  ’.

“ Tulip Egoche ahd'Pltermsn Stoll,”‘ O'Connelfregiid.‘ V ,

“their-pardon the. doub 7-hour peril be safe a this'in-
formation is rtlrue?” asked ontgomﬁorgé‘ hawk, ,mlwﬁk

,r‘ 1. ,e. an ﬁnch ,i it .03.,   .
th‘éefdhsuacyzi it mil :6: iugip' é {he told  that

on were u e 1to he, I ,,,tp \ .0118 .W 6 you
hadhscarcglygkgnown Ingr- (3:1. hgu'r‘s. gmwrll tell ybu the
 3 l‘v‘ "' "ll“"v‘|-l’l' " 'I

For the ﬁrst time Mont or’nery g‘ e‘s'se'd, th V  'thllt h d
separated Frances and hfmself.  vail  torn away

hen a pain we isles. n. '. KP.“ ~ - v v. I

“Mr. O'Connei all)“: onzq estion, please. Has—:hasMiss
Leone any knowle ge of the so of these two men?"

H o "

Montgomery’s heart leaped for joy. . . ..

“I felt it my duty to tell you whpt I knew of the amin-
New,d . you can set your own pleasure,” and O’Connel de-
parte . ‘ '

 
CHAPTER xxxv.‘
rm: mm or run auteur.

MONTGOMERY did not have long to wait, for in a few mo-
ments after O’Connel’s departure, he was again tap ed on the
shoulder. . He turned and beheld the Englishman, ipgan.

“I’ve kept you waiting for a little while, but couldn't help
it," Pipgan said, a self-satisﬁed look on his shrewd- face.

“ But where the deuce did you come from f?’ . '

f‘ From the hotel. I’ve taken up my qunmu hon» Pip;
gan had again assumed the dress and manners of the "swell."

“ You have i’"

“ Yes. of course; so as to keep my eyes upon my birds."

“ Well, what success 1" Montgomery asked, eagerly; “ have
you discovered any thing?”

“ More than that; I’ve discovered every thing."

“ You have f”

9‘ Yes, and tonight I think we can end the aﬂ'air."

“ Tell me what you have discovered l" ,

“ Not now; to-night you shall know' ev thi . , Let me
work the ease up in myeown weady.” said the nglis man. “ I
am. sure, that you will satist with what I have done.”

“ To night then I shall know all f”

1‘; tYes; and now, Mr. Montgomery, I want you to um m1
‘ It 0." : , . .

“ Certainly,” Montgo ery replied; “ what is it!" .. .

" I’m obliged to go own ‘0 my 01d stoppin place, ‘ The
Grapes) .I Iexpect as cable udgpezch. I shoul like to have

oulrematn ere an notice nnel re u .” '
y « im right?” I will.”l Ma, y ‘ mlb'fm ~Id°

t" siren’t. . gone ong. , ke our mind. .-
will straighten out this tangled skeln,” and Pisa hm

Montgomery. remained on the watch. ,. :.

We will now follow O’Connel down the street.

.The face, of the chief of the Lhague of Three was ﬂushed
withtriumph. The goal was in sight; the consummation of
aithis (marina weshnear at hand.

ust ore reac ing the Fifth Avenue Hotel he
Roche and Herman Btoil, arm in arm. M m
O'Conuei stopped and greeted them.

k . .
knowledge, menu at sinfn'bt  liberty,
dtot ‘ “r ‘o‘ tastes-"1%?
0 t , .e 11.0.9 W ,

u can, he, race. I; age y shunt};

Montgomery remained; he was waiting for the Englishman. '

 
0..- ......s

 
Hunted Down; or, The League of Three. 45‘

 
“ What news?” asked Tulip, anxiously, and O‘Connel no-
ticed that he looked careworn and sad.

” Nothing but good!" answered O'Connel, gavlv, “ but let
us ad ourn to some quiet place and talk over our affairs.”

“ av rooms are near at hand; suppose we go there,” sug-
gests Stoll, who was a bachelor and occupied furnished apart-
ments in Twenty-fourth street.

“ That will do,” said O’Connet.

So the three proceeded at once to the rooms of Stoll.

“Now, in the ﬁrst place, look at that l" said O’Conncl, in a
tone of triumph, as he drew a little piece of folded paper
fmm his pocket-book and laid it upon the table, around which
the three sat.

“ Why, it’s a check si ned by Angus Montgomery, but it’s
blank—no amount state ” said Stoll. '

“ Wait a bit though,” O’Connei said.

He seized a pen from the table, and with a careless hand
wrote upon the check, then pushed it across the table to Stoll

“Twenty-eigﬁt thousand dollars,” Stoll read aloud.

“ Exactly. r. Angus Montgomery has thirty thousand
dollars deposited in the bank on which this check is drawn. To-
morrow morning Mr. Montgomery will walk down to that
bank, inform the cashier that he has drawn this check, so that
the rson who presents it will have no difficult in cashin,
it. u about an hour afterward, Miss Leone pernay wil
present this check, receive twenty-eight thousand dollars,
turn the same over to me, and then the purpose of our League
is accomplished. Angus Montgomery will be a ruined man.”

“ But he will still have two thousand left,” Stoll said.

“ What is that sum to the man who has been worth a hun-
dred thousand i” asked O’Connel, scornfully.

“ True, it isn’t much; but why not take all i" said Stoll.

“ Oh, no," replied O’Connel, with a shake of the head, “ we
have beaten him to the earth; let us not strike him now that
he is helpless."

“ Well just as you say,” Btoll grumbled; “ but if I had my
way he‘d get but ittle mercy.” '

“ Build a bridge of silver for a ﬂying enemy,” said O’Con-
nel, sagely. “Don’t drive this man to desperation, else the
act ma recoil upon our own heads."

“ 0’ nnel speaks wisely,” Tulip observed. It was the ﬁrst
time that he had spoken. There seemed to be a settled mel-
ancholy weighing upon his spirits.

“ And now, gentlemen, I believe that the League of Three
has accomplished what it was created for. Tomorrow Angus
Montgomery Will be a ruined man; to-morrow, then, the
Lea us will end.” ' ‘

“ es," said Stoll. Tulip was silent.

“ Do you not assent, Tulip f” O’Connel asked.

“ Yes, of course; I Was not heeding what you said,” replied
Tull recovering from his abstraction.

“ e have achieved all that we set out to do. You, Stoll,
have recovered our money. Frances Chauncy has been re-
turned to you, lip, and as for myself, the downfall of this

man has given me all the revenge that I cared for.” And as ’

O’Connel spoke, though his manner was careless and full of
triumph, yet he watched the face of Tulip Roche narrowly

Tulip winced when he heard the name of the blonde beauty.

O’Connel’s watchful ‘eyes saw the movement, and a peculiar
smile hovered for a moment around his lips. He guessed the
reason why Tulip’s face clouded at Frances’ name.

" You are wrong in one thing, O’Connel," Tulip said, slow-
ly. and in a gloomy way. “The League may have been suc-
cessful in carrying out the wishes of yourself and Stoll, here;
but it has not given Frances Chauncy to me.’

“ No f” said O‘Connel, in a tone of wonder.

Stoll looked astonished.

“ No,” repeated Tulip. * .

“But the me was successful by means of which we sepa-
rate Montgomery and his pretty woman 2" O’Connel said.

“ True, and I had reason to believe that I would once again
hold my former place in her favor," Tulip replied. "

“ What makes you think that you can not do so?

“ By some means she has learned that I spoke falsely in re-

ard to Montgomery’s engagement with this French girl.
§Vhen I called at her house this afternoon, the servant said
that Miss Frances was out, and put a note into my hand which
he said she had directed him to give me. The note informed
me that she knew the ungentlemanly device that I had used,
and further said that she knew of no word to_ fully express
the contempt with which my conduct had inspired her. ’.

“ Good-by then to your hope of winning her 1” exclaimed
Stoll, coarsely.

“ She must have seen Montgomer and had an explanation
with him ” O’Connel said, thought ully.

“ Yes. t is possible,” Tulip replied.

“I am sorry, but I am sure that you will own that the
Lea us has done its best to aid you.”

“ 88. I have no complaints to make,” Tulip replied

“ Night is coming on," Stoll said, rising.

“ Say that we meet here at twelve tomorrow; by that time '
t our ﬁnal blow will be struck, and the League need exist no
i magi-.2" O’Connel suggested risin as he spoke.

at is satisfactory," Tn ip sai .

“ Where are you bound aow, O’Connell" Stoll asked.

“ To eta dinner somewhere; I’ve been so busy that I have
not h sawing to eat since morning,” replied O’Connel.

“And evening?”

“ I shall visit Miss Leone."

“ Ah! well, that's pleasant l” Stoll observed.

“ Yes, but my visit has more to do with business than with
“litre.” said O'Connel. “ i instructed Miss Leone to make

 
Montgomery fall in love with her. i will do her the justice
to say, that she has faithfully carried out my instructions,
but she has also been foolish enough to fall in love with him.

“ Now, it isjust possible that this love may urge her to do
some very foolish action. New I do not wish my schemes
to be set at naught by the mad act of a love-sick girl ; there-
fore I am going to keep my eyes upon Miss Leone until the
money for this check is in my hands, then—why she may do
What she likes.” '

Tulip and Stoll exchanged glances. They could not under-
stand the mysterious tie that bound O’Connel and Leone to-
gether. The conference broke up. The League of Three was
near its end.

 
CHAPTER XXXVI.
HUNTED DOWN.

O’CONNEL and Leone were to ether in the apartment of the
latter. O’Connel was stretche out carelessly upon the sofa,
Leone kneeling by his side. The gas—for it was night—cast
a brilliant light upon the tableau.

The face of the girl was deadly pale. Strange blue circies
were under the large dark eyes that blazed with a lurid light.

Leone had been imploring—striving with anxious words
and tear-wet eyes to move the stony heart of O’Connel.

“ Oh, Lionel, will you not have mercy 1’" she cried, in tones
trembling with emotion.

O‘Connel looked at the trembling irl with a chilling sneer.

“ Don’t waste time in foolish supp ications,” he said, in icy
tones. “You ought to know me well enough to be certain
that words alone will not swerve me from any purpose that
I have resolved to carry out.”

“You will not spare Montgomery, then f” she cried, rising
as she spoke, a stran e look upon her white features.

“ N 0, he is doometﬁ Three powerful enemies have dragged
him down.” '

“The League of Three, and you are the chief of the league!
the other two are Tulip Roche and Herman Stoll, the instru—
ments that have done your will i” , t

“ Exactly,” said O’Connel, coolly. “ Your wits are shrewder
than lthou ht for. You have (guessed rightly regarding the
League. 0 three have crushe Montgomery in the dust.”

“ Lionel, you are a demon! What has this man eve‘r'done
to you that you should hate him i” cried Leone, in despair.

“ Won the love of the woman that I had marked as mine!
I swore that I would be even with him for it, and I’ve kept
my word. Before a year is over, Frances Chauncy will be my
wife."

A key turning quickly in a door-lock startled both Q'Con-,
no] and Leone. The door opened, and the Englishman, Pipgan, ‘
followed by Montgomery, entered the room. O’Connel started
to his feet, in astonishment.

Quick as a cat, Pipgan sprung upon the young man, hurled

him over, backward, on the sofa, and dextrously drew O’Con-
nel’s pistol from the revolver-pocket behind. Then he re-
leased him and quietly retreated from him.

“ Loaded—a seven-shooter, eh i” said Pipgan, as be ex-
amined the pistol. “ [had an idea that you carried something
of this sort, and I didn’t know but that some wild idea might
come into your head to use it when you found yourself cor-
nered. I beg your pardon, Miss, for makin a disturbance in
your room," and Pipgan bowed politely to one, who stood,
wonder-struck at the scene.

With a great effort, O‘Connel recovered his composure. He
rose to his feet and surveyed the Englishman, calmly. .

“What do you mean by this outrage l” he asked.

“ Oh, that game won’t Wul‘k,” said Pipgan, with a grimaoe.
“ I’ve been occupying that room yonder for some time, and
by means of the keyhole I’ve heard about all that’s been said
here. Besides, you know well enough who I am. You re-
cognized me the other night when I was got up as the ‘swell.’
I knew you the moment I put eyes upon you, though you
have bleached your black hair to a yellow tint, Mr.‘Ls'oad
Doment."

O’Connel—as we shall continue to call him—bit his lips
until the red blood crimsoned the white teeth.

“ So I’m hunted down, ch ?” he said, with a bitter laugh.

“ Ex-actly” said Pipgan, laconically.

“ You are right; I did recognize you, Mr. Christopher Pip-
gan, but, like a fool, I thought it was only a resemblance I

id not expect to ﬁnd the celebrated detective so far from
Bow street. Did ou come clear across the water after me ?”

“13,1088 you, no! ’ replied the detective ofﬁcer, for the little
Englishman was indeed a detective, renowned as one of the
best in all England. “I came over for In own amusement,
just to see the country, but, in some way got tangled up in

'your aﬁ’air, and this is the end of it. You’re ‘ wanted.”

“ I suppose I understand; still I put the question: what for i”

“For the murder of Captain Ernest Malper,” replied Pip
8“. “l 8 dry. business-like tone.

ontgomery started in horror.

O’Connel noticed the start and laughed, carelessly. Then
he turned to the detective. “ Don’t you want her, too 't" and
he .ointed to Leone.

i gan did not. answu‘.

" h, that’s the game, is it?” O’Connel said, bitterly. “ Good,
I’ll block it. Leone, I understand! you have betrayed me."

“ No, no !” cried the rl, quickly.

“ Oh, I see it all! Th s gentleman is to take me across the
water and leave you to him.” and he pointed to .Monig‘umt ry.

.m,‘ r, .--v

 
.-.,"—-— «wov‘ -—,. ..

-. w-‘e,.— .. u-.\ , V .. -._-.._'

' K r
a- ..‘.~... _...._.- _-._.‘ .._.,-._.,

i
i
i
i
i
t .
i

..——- W,<.fw--..

 
Lu.

 
- K ___...__._..v_ .__.

“ No doubt, hefa paid well for it. Now, I’ll play my cards.
Captain Malper was shot one evening in a lone country house
m-ar Liverpool. 'l‘wo persons alone were present; that Woman
and myself. Now, listen, other-r; I accuse that woman of the
murder of Ernest Malperi I was her accomplice in the deed.
Iturn Queen’s evidence and denounce her. Now, refuse to
arrest her if you dare t”

Leone sunk, almost fainting, into a chair. Montgomery
staggered back. A sullen smile of joy was on O’Connel’s face.
The detective was the only one of the four that showed no
trace of emotion.

“ You’re game as a pebble, but it won‘t work,” said Pipgan,
dryly. “ Unluckily for your accusation, Captain Malpct' made

a death-bed statement denouncing you as his murderer, and -

declaring the woman was innocent.”

With a cry of joy, Montgomery rushed to Leone, and folded
the half-fainting girl to his heart.

“ My dice were loaded, but you’re too much for me. Well,
where s the bracelets for my wrists?” said O’Connel, with a
contemptuous smile.

“ Don’t be in a hurry; I think that this little matter can be
arranged i" said Pipgan, quietly.

O’Connel caught at the hope eagerly.

“ How?” he said.

“ This little affair is a secret to us here; I haven’t hunted
you down on behalf of the English Government, but for this
gentleman, Mr. Montgomery.”

“ I understand. What are the conditions!"

” First, that check; second, a full confession of this League
of three business; one that we can use against your accom-
plices; next, all the money that you have obtained by plun-
dering this gentleman.”

‘_‘ I'acoept; and you will release me i"

.- 1” I

“ I‘ll write the confession at once.”

O’Connel sat down to the table and commenced writing.
Pipgan leaned over him.

“ Leone," whispered Montgomery, to the girl as he held
her tight] to his breast, “ what is the secret that binds you to
this man g’

“ Can you not guess?” asked the girl. “ He is my brother.
I swore to my mother on her death—bed that I would never
forsake him—she knew his terrible nature well—but that I
would cling to and try to save him from the consequences of
his evil acts. "

“ And this crime—the motive?”

“This Ca tais Malper was in love with me; came to the
house when ions] was away, though I begged of him not to
persecute me with a love that was distasu ful. One night he
and Lionel met; a quarrel followed, ended by the deed of
blood.” Shuddering, Leone hid her face on Montgomery’s
breast. Pure as gold from the ﬁre was Leone's heart. Mont
gonnery felt that he had won a treasure.

“ There, that covers it,” said O‘Connel, signing. “ Here i!
the note.” He laid if on the table; then, from a secret pocket
in his vest, he took a number of checks. “And here‘s the
money that belongs to him. Now, I’ll throw something into
the bargain. Leone," and he turned to the girl, “ 1 give you
back your promise; henceforth your path in life separates from
mine; you are free!"

The detective quiet] gathered up the valuables.

“ You’re a sharp fei ow,” he said, addressing O‘Connel.

“ My wit has saved my neck this time!” replied O'Connel.

“Just look at this!" And with a smile, Pipgan handed a
tale m to O'COnnel. He took it with a look of wonder.

“ o sass. Captain Mahm- recoeered,” the telegram read.

O'Connel stared at it in rage. It was dated at London; a
cable dispatch l

“ What the deuce does this mean i" he asked.

“Plain as the nose on your face. Malper, the man ou
M didn’t die. You thought you had killed him and to

0" “VIM”, ‘I

 
46 Hunted Down, or, The League__0f Three.

this country. wneu : saw you and your sister here, 1 I
membered something about the murder—for ever body thought
it was a murder—and then I had met both 0 on in Liver-
pool long ago, when you were on the turf. hat-"s how I
came to know you. I thought, like the rest who read about
the affair in the newspapers, that Malper was dead, of course
killed by you. I tele raphed per cable, for instructions and
that’s the answer. ou‘re ‘ one,’ my boy. I had no right to
arrest youd so I come a bit of strategy over you. I’ve got what
I wanted.

O’Connel looked at the detective for a moment and ground
his teeth in anger, then he spoke:

“ Will you give me my revclver, please i”

“ Certainly,” said Pipgan, politely, and he handed it to him.

Quick as thought O‘Connel cocked it, leveled the pistol full
at the breast of the detective and pulled the trigger.

Down came the hammer—but no report followed.

The detective had not even winked. I

He opened his hand and showed the cartridges.

“ I took ’em out while you were writing, my boy. I intended
to give you back the plaything, and I had an idea that you
mi ht do something foolish; ‘ done ’ again l”

ith an oath O’Connel ﬂung the useless revolver at the
smiling face of Pipgan and rushed from the room. Luckily
folr the detective, be guessed the action and dodged the mis-
si e.

Lionel O’Connel was never seen again in New York.

“ Pipgan, on have saved me i” cried Montgomery.

“ No, the bite Witch," the detective replied.

“ You know who she is?" asked the young man, eagerly.

“ You're a~holding of her in your arms, now i”

Leone blushed crimson.

“It's no use to deny it. I know you the ring on your
ﬁnger. I saw it in the car, the other night ’ Pipgan cried.

“ I will not deny the truth,” Leone said. “ 1 am the White
Witch. Lionel, my brother, talks in his sleep; he has been
accustomed to lie down in my room nearly every afternoon.
From him, in his slumber, I heard all the particulars of the
plot against you, long before he attempted to carry it out.

tried to save you as the White Witch, even while I was
leading you to ruin as Leone. Can you forgive me?" she
asked, timidly.

“ Yes, and bless you for your love," Montgomery replied.

Little more remains to be told. .

Herman Stoll and Tulip Roche were “ interviewed” by the.
shrewd detective. The result of which was, that Montgomery
received quite a handsome sum of money, and the two con-
spirators found it. convenient to leave New York for a Euro-
pean tour.

Frances Cbauncy is still Frances Chauncy, a living wonder
of ﬁckle beauties.

Among all Montgomery’s old friends none were more re-
igicetli to see him restored to wealth than the dark-cared

at is. . ’

. ontgomery and Leone were married and are happ .

Pipgan returned to England; he likes America, ut say-
they don’t have an hale here. '  .

In the mines of antana is a noted gambler with streaked
hair, black and yellow. He is called Jim York. Few would
recognize in the cool, reckless desperado, the polished Lionel
O’Connel.

He has played a desperate game—lost, and has left civiliu
tion forever. ‘

In drink and play, he ﬁnds the opiate that dulls remem-
brance.

His fate is easily redicted.

A drunken braw —revolvers and bowie-knives in active
play, and then? A grave in some lonely ﬁnch, whose sands
show traces of the precious metal that be p yad so reckless] .
and put so coolly. to win.

W- e'd. I. .t. . to. M.

 
l

l
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l

 
Branns’s HALF-DIME LIBRARY.-

 
Every one of them “Live” Stories by “Live” Authors. Each number
a Complete Novel, at the extraordinary price or a HALF-DIME.

l Deadwood Dick. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
2 Yellowstone Jack. Jos. E. Badger.
3 Kansas King. By Buffalo Bill.
4 The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt.
Mayne Reid and Capt. Fred. Whittaker.
5 Vagabond Joe. By 011 Coomes.
8 Bill Biddon, Trapper. By E. S. Ellis.
7 The Flying Yankee. Col. Ingraham.
8 Seth Jones. By Edward S. Ellis.
9 Adventures of Baron Munchausen.
10 Nat Todd. By Ed. S. Ellis.
11 The Two Detectives. A. W. Aiken.
12 Gulliver's Travels.
13 The Dumb Spy. By 011 Coomes.
l4 Aladdin.
15 The SeyCat. By Capt. F. Whittaker.
.16 Robinson Crusoe.
17 Ralph Roy. Col. Prentiss Ingraham.
18 Sindbad. the Sailor.
19 The Phantom Spy. By Buffalo Bill.
20 The Double Daggers. E. L. Wheeler
21 Frontier Angel. By Ed. S. Ellis.
22 The Sea Serpent. Col. Juan Lewis.
23 Nick 0’ the Night. T. C. Harbaugh.
24 Diamond Dirk. By Col. P. Ingraham.
25 The Boy Captain. By Roger Starbuck.
26 Cloven Hoof. By Edward L. Wheeler.
27 Antelope Abe. By 011 Coomes.
28 Buﬁ'alo Ben. Edward L. Wheeler.
29 The Dumb Page. Capt. F. Whittaker.
30 Roaring Ralph Rockwood. By
Barry St. George.
31 Keen-Knife. By Oll Coomes.
32 Bob Woolf. Edward L. Wheeler.
33 The Ocean Bloodhound. S. W. Pierce
34 Oregon Sol. Capt. J. F. C. Adams.
35 Wild Ivan. By Edward L. Wheeler.
36 ‘7. he Boy Clown. By Frank S. Finn.
37 The Hidden Lodge. T. C. Harbaugh.
38 Ned Wylde. By Texas Jack.
39 Death-Face. By Edward L. Wheeler.
40 Roving Ben. John J. Marshall.
41 Lasso Jack. By 011 Coomes.
42 The Phantom Miner. E. L. Wheeler
43 Dick Darling. By Capt. F. Whittaker
44 Rattling Rube. By Harry St. George.
45 Old Avalanche. Edward L. Wheeler.
48 Glass Eye. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams.
47 Nightingale Nat. By T. C. Harbaugh.
48 Black John. By Joseph E. Badger, Jr.
49 Omaha 011. By Edward L. Wheeler.
50 Burt Bunker. By C. E. Lasalle.
51 The Boy Riﬂes. By Archie C. Iron.
52 The White Buﬂalo. Chas. E. Lasalle.
53 Jim Bludsoe. Jr. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
54 Ned Hazel. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams.
55 Deadly-Bye. By Buffalo Bill.
59 Nick Mes’ Pet. J. F. C. Adams.
57 Deadwood Dick's Eagles. Wheeler.
58 The Border Hing. By 011 Coomes.
59 Old Hickory. By Harry St. George.
80 The Whitelndian. By J. F. C. Adams.
61 Buckhorn Bill. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
62 The Shadow Ship. Col. P. Ingraham.
93 The Red Brotherhood. Hamilton.
94 Dandy Jack. BY T. C- Harbaugh.
65 Hurricane Bill. Joe. E. Badger, Jr.
08 SingleHand. By W. J. Hamilton.

 
67 Patent-Leather Joe. Philip S. Warne.
68 The Border Robin Hood. Buffalo Bill.
69 Gold Riﬂe. By Edward L. Wheeler.
70 Old Zip's Cabin. By J. F. C. Adams.
71 Delaware Dick. By 011 Coomes.

72 Mad Tom Western. W. J. Hamilton.
73 Deadwood Dick on Deck. Wheeler.
74 Hawk-eye Harry. By 011 Coomes.
75 The Boy Duelist. Col. P. Ingraham.
76 Abe Colt, the Crow-Killer. Aiken.
77 Corduroy Charlie. Ed. L. Wheeler.
78 Blue Dick. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

79 Sol Ginger. By Albert W. Aiken.

80 Rosebud Rob. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
81 Lightnng Jo. By Capt. J. F. C. Adams.
82 Kit Harefoot. By T. C. Harbaugh.
83 Rollo. the Boy Ranger. OllCoomes.
84 Idyl, the Girl Miner. E. L. Wheeler.
85 Buck Buckram. Capt. J. F. C. Adams.
86 Dandy Rock. By G. Waldo Browne.
87 TheLand Pirates. Capt. Mayne Reid.
88 Photograph Phil. Ed. L. Wheeler.

 
~§g . / ‘L'il

No. 28.—Bm.u.o BEN.

89 Island Jim. By Bracebridge Hemyng.
90 The Dread Rider. George W. Browne
91 The Captain of the Club. Hemyng.
92 Canada Chet. Edward V L. Wheeler.
93 The BoyMiners. By Edward S. Ellis.
94 Midnight Jack. By T. C. Harbaugh.
95 The Rival Rovers. Hazeltine.

96 Watch-Eye. By Edward L. Wheeler.
97 The Outlaw Brothers. Marshall.
98 Robin Hood, Gildersleeve.

99 The Tiger of Taos. G. W. Browne.

100 Deadwood Dick in Leadville. By
Edward L. Wheeler.

101 Jack HarkawayinNew York. By
Bracebridge Hemyng.

102 Dick Dead-Eye. Col. lngraham.

103 The Lion of the Sea. Delle Sam.

104 ' Deadwood Dick’s Device. Wheeler

105 Old Rube. By Capt. ll. Holmes.

108 Old Frosty. the Guide. Harbaugh.

107 One-Eyed Sim. By S. L. Bowen,

108 Daring Davy. By Harry St. George.

109 Deadwood Dick as Detective. By
Edward L. Wheeler.

 
110 The Black Steed of the Prairies.
By James L. Bowen.
1 1 1 The Sea-Devil. By 001. P. Ingraham.
1 12 The Mad Hunter. By Burton Saxe.
113 Jack Hoyle. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
114 The Black Schooner. R. Starbuck.
1 15 The Mad Miner. G. W. Browne.
116 The Hussar Captain. By Ingraham.
117 Gilt-Edged Dick. By E. L. Wheeler.
118 Will Somers. By Charles Morris.
119 Mustang Sam. Jos. E. Badger. Jr.
120 TheBrandedHand. Frank Dllmuuf.
121 Cinnamon Chip. Edward L. Wheeler.
122 Phil Hardy. By Charles Morris.
123 Kiowa Charley. T. C. Harbaugh.
124 Tippy, the Texan. Geo. Gleason.
125 Bonanza Bill, Miner. E. L. Wheeler
126 Picayune Pete. By C. Morris.
127 Wild-Fire. By Frank Dumont.
128 The Young Privateer. Cavendish.
129 Deadwood Dick’s Double. By
Edward L. Wheeler.
130 Detective Dick. By. Chas. Morris.
131 The Golden Hand. Geo. W. Browne.
132 The Hunted Hunter. Ed. S. Ellis.
133 Boss Bob. By Edward L. Wheeler.
134 Sure Shot Seth. By 011 Coomes.
135 Captain Paul. By C. D. Clark.
136 Night-Hawk Kit. Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
137 The Helpless Hand. Mayne Reid.
138 Blonde Bill. By Edward L. Wheeler.
139 Judge Lynch, Jr. '1‘. C. Harbaugh.
140 Blue Blazes. By Frank Dumont.
141 Solid Sam. By Ed. L. Wheeler.
142 Handsome Harry. By Chas. Morris.
143 Scar-Face Saul. By 011 Coomes.
144 Dainty Lance. Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
145 Captain Ferret. Ed. L. Wheeler.
143 Silver Star. By 011 Coomes.
147 Will Wildﬁre. By Char] 8 Morris.
148 Sharp Sam. By J.‘A. Patten.
149 A Game of Gold. Ed. L.- Wheeler.
150 Lance and Lasso. Fred. Whittaker.
151 Panther Paul. Jos. E. Badger, Jr.
152 Black Bess. By Charles Morris.
153 Eagle Hit. By 011 Coomes.
154 The Sword Hunters. F. Whittaker.
155 Gold Trigger. By T. C. Harbaugh.

156 Deadwood Dick of Deadwood;
or, Tar. 1’1an Paarr. By Edward
L. Wheeler.

15'? Mike Merry, Tm: Hanson POLICE
BOY; or, THE NIGHT-HAWKS or PHIL:—
DELPHIA. By Charles Morris. July 22'.

158 Fancy Frank of Colorado: or.
Tan TRAPPER’S Tausr. By Buffalo
Bill. Ready August 3d.

159 The Lost Captain: or, Burn-:1:
Jannz Corrm’s ChUIBE To run Or.- :.
POLAR SEA. - By Captain F. W hittakri‘.

Ready August 1011;.

160 Black Giant; or. DAINTY LANCE m

Jaormr. By Joe. E. Beu’gé‘l‘, Jr.
Ready August 17th.

A new lame every week.

 
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I receipt of six cents each. BEADLIJ & ADAMS.
} Publishers, 98 William Street, New York.

 
x— ~r‘ may‘w,‘ v.

 
82 We Inna-Column Pages.

1. A Hard Crowd ; on, GENTLEMAN
lu'a Brawn; nyPhtlip 8- Wane.

8. The DwDevil: on, THE WINGED
Error: 0! mn BEA By Col. Prentiss Ingraham.

3. Kit 0 on Jr. THE CEAOE SHOT or
.en WE".  Ba'm.’ '

4. The Mapper: on, THE GREAT
Imam or  ‘Nonl'mwm. By Philip S. Wax-no.

5. The Plre-Pionds; on, HERCULES, THE
HUNcnnAOE. By A. P.

6. Wildcat Bob. Tn Boss BRUISER;
Owl‘s/Enema Bwoohowne. ByMLWheeler.

7. Death-Iotoh. TEE DEs'rnovEE; on,
[‘EE Benn-r LAEE Amazes. By 011 Coomes.

8. Thoﬂeodlen orseman. Astrange
Itory of Texan. By Capt. . ayne Reid.

9. Handy Andy. By Samuel Lover.

10. Vldooql.t THE FRENCH POLICE SPY.
Written by hlmse .

ltl.  Easy. By Capt. Mar-
rya . '

12. The Death-Shot; on, TEACEEI) re
DEATH. By Capt. Mayne Reid.

18. Fathom : 0E,Nch WHIEELES, THE
01.» Tum or m mun-r. By Robinson

LIBRARY“. ;

 
it.
I -r .
i
e I 
._.

‘ 40. The Lon” Hairec‘; 'I‘ardef um,
‘1 THE 'i‘An'rARs or Tnizl5LAINs.

 
on THE GREAT SALT LAKE. By Albert W. Aiken.

42. The California. Detective ; on,
THE WITCHEB or N EW You. By Albert W. Aiken.

43. DakotaDan, THE RECKLESS RANGER;
or, THE BEE~HUNTEE$’ EXCURHON. By Oil Cgunes.

44. Old Dan Raokback. THE GREAT
WARE By 011 Coomee. '

45. Old Bull’s Eye, THE LIGHTNING
Snor or THE PLAINS. By Joseph E. Badger. JR.

46. Bowie-Knife Ben, THE LITTLE
HUNTER or THE Nonhwna'r. By Oil Coomes.

47. Paciﬁc Pete, THE Pmcn or THE
REVOLVER. By Joe. E. Badger. Jr.

48. Idaho Tom, THE YOUNG OUTLAW
or SILVEELAND. By 011 Coomes.

49. The Wolf Demon; or, THE QUEEN or
Tn: KANAWHA. By Albert W. Aiken.
0. Jack Rabbit, THE PRAIRIE Sron'r;
By 03. E. Badger, Jr.
51. Red Rob, THE BOY ROAD-AGENT.
By Oil Coomes.

 
14. Th. endanogoa, THE SooonGE ;
IE, Tu WAB- V LE or m Homing. Ned Buntline. “

15. The TlgorySl or" on, EAGLE- !
Run To 11!; Blanca  3...“; Aimard. %
16. mgghWhud: on, THE GREAT ;
harem- ‘or " mm. By Ned Buntline.’ i

17. High Ehade. THE ROBBER PRINCE I
m Romanov n. ' By Dr. J. H. Robinson. 1

18. '11“ Sea Bandit: on, THE QUEEII 1
or run law. By Ned Bontune.

19. Red Cedar, TEE Puma OorLAw. }
By Gustavo Almard.

20. The Mt at Bay: on, THE P:-
EATEE or 11E Puma. By Gustave Almard.

21.11.. m. ppor'o .Danqhter' 0
Tu: Ooruv‘s Flu. By 'GumVe ‘A mard. ' R,

22. Whltolaw; on, NA'rrn: or ran LAEE
88038. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

28. The Red Warrior: on, STELLA
DELom'I Damon Lovh‘ BrNod Buntline.

84. Mi. “0'”. By Gustave Ai-
l chard. author 9! “Norman.” etc.

25. no Gold-Guide: 03.8mm. Anna,
in Barium By Francis .10th

so. The th- - 0‘ rm. 0 -
mu orrEE Mo Ant.  Mdﬁﬁphnson. U"
27. The thor-Detecti o T ‘
Gnu org-v on. By Albert willie...“ BE
88. Three-ﬁngered Jack. THE Re. DJ
AGENT or m Boon". By JoeephE. Badger. Jr‘:

89. V' r Dick, TEE F430 KING; or,
TuEC IOEIII. ByniilipBJVaI-ne.

30. Goo Goo I or, FIEEY FEED,
rm:  100302;. Badger, Jr. ' ’

81. The New York ‘8 :' on, THE
it‘le or human. By Albert W. lken.

88. 8101' of Yale; on, THE SanrEs
u-A lino an or Commune. By John D. Vose. E
38. Overland Kit. By A. W. Aiken.

84. Bookylountain  By Aiken.

35. Xenich the Sport. By Aiken.
39.936“: Dick. By Albert w. Aiken.

37. mil. tho Hunchback: on, THE;
"Mlolmsltm. ByDr.J.H.Robinson. l

88.1.17“ Hand 3 on. THE laoN Gaxr or i
bum! Em; by Albert w. Aiken. J

 
m or III-lunar (has. Whittaker.

39. The Russian 3 on. THE Baoru- !
53%.. I

' OUTLAW or ARKANSAS}.

Err CARBON. .m.—No. 8.

52. Death Trailer, THE Cam or
Scout's. By Ron. Wm. Ready. We Bill.)

53. Silver Sam: or, TIIE MYSTERY or
Deaiwoon anj. 3y Col. Bella Sara.

54. Always on Band; or, 1.3: 3203er
Sronr or THE Foor .HLLLE. By .’-:. -.,. Wane.

55. The

51,. Hunt are. A P-‘,'.'."_'« .o . Ir
TEE PLAIst

By Capt. Mayne Reid.

56. The Indian Harem; or, THE
MAD MAN or TEE‘PLAINe. By - W. Aiken.

57. The Silent Hunter: or, Tm; SCOWL
HALL Mvmnr. By Percy B. St. John.

58. Silver Knife; or, WICKLIEEE. Till:
ROCKY MOUNTAIN RANGER. By Dr. J. H. Robinson.

59. The Man Pram Texas: 01', THE
By Albert W. Aiken.

60. Wide- Awake: or, THE lDlO’l‘ or
THE BLACK HILLe. By Frank Dumont.

61. Ca tain Seawall. THE PMVATuK
By Ned Bun line.

62. Loyal Heart; or, THE Turnns or
AEEANEAH. By Gustave Aimard.

53- The Winged Whale. By Allan.

64. Double-Sight. the Death Shot.
By Joseph E. Badger "

By Joe. E. Badger. Jr. v
41. Gold Dan; on, THE WHITE SAVAGE .

 
Each Number Complete. Price 10 on.

«353. The Red Rajah; (I', THE Bantam
or ’1'ch anme. By Captain Frederick Whittaker.

66. The Specter Barque. A TAIA
 or THE PACIFIC. By Captain Mayne Reid.

67. The Boy Jockey;’ 0r, HONEST“
“EBSUB CEOOKEDNEse. By Joseph E. Badger. J .

.68. The PightlngB Trapper; or, Kn
CAESON TO THE RESCUE. y Capt. J. F. C. Adan 5

69. The Irish mtain; A TALE :1
FONTENOY.’ By Captain erick Whittaker.

70. Hydrabad, THE STEANGLER; ( I
Au-rHE, THE CHILD or m Conn. By Robinson.

71. Captain Cool-Blade, 0r, THE MM
SHARK or ran 113513412”. By Joe. E. Badger, .‘u:

72. The Phantom Hand.~ A Sworn to
NEW You HEAR'IHB AND HouEs. By A. W. Aiken.

73. The Knight of the. RedCrox-uu
or, THE MAGIEIAN or GRANADA. Dr. J. H. Robinson

74. Captain of the Riﬂes. A ROMANW
or 'rrHE MEEIOAN VALLEY“. BY Captain Mayne licid
.75. Gentlemanﬁeorge, or, PARLUR
Paxton, Sun Ann era-1E1. By Albert W. Aiken.
76. The Queen's Musketeer, m
TE. m‘ , m Pomona Pm. By George Albouy
77. The Fresh of Frisco. or, Tm
HEmEsa or BoENAyEImIEA. By Albert W. Aiken
.78. The Mysterious Spy; or, GOLD”

FEATHER, TBE‘BUCCANERB‘B DAUGHTER. By Gruiivm
79. Joe Phenix, 'rnE POLICE SPY. i};
‘ Albert  Aiken.
80. A Man of , erve:
mt DwAnr. 'Byl’hillnrs. arm.
81. The Human Tiger; Or, A Eur-
or FIRE. By Albert W. Aiken.

82. Iron Wrist. the Smrdmaster .
By COL Thomas H. Monatery.

83. Gold Bullet Sport: or, an Knmmu
or m OVERLAND. By Buifalo BilL

84. Hunted Down; or, my. Wm"
WrroE. By AlbertW. Aiken.

85. T e Cretan Rover: or, ZUIEIEAJ
m BEA By Col. Prentice Ingrahani.

86. The Big Hunter : or, THE one .
or m Woons. By the author of “ Silent Hunter.’

87. The Scarlet Captain; or, T); u
Persona or TEE TowEn. By Col. Dene Sara.

88. Big Geor 0, THE GIANT or ‘rru
Guwumr, HIVFIVE o'ruw Bno'rEEEs. By Badge"

89. The Pirate Prince: or, an l
NELLY, THE QUEEN or TEE ISLE. By Col. Ingrnliam

90. Wild Will. THE MAD Rucnrnu
or, THE TEIimaLE TEXAN. By Buckskin Sam.

91. The inning Car: or, THE IN)
EEmn‘e DAUa Ii. By Albert W. Aiken.

92. Buffalo Bill. THE Bocxsm KIN--
By Major Dangerﬁeld Burr.

98. Captain Dick Talbot. Kmo on
T1": Ram: or. THE Buck-Hoops or Sauna. l4
Albert W. Aiken. ' * '

94. Freelance. THn BUCCANEER; 0r. Tl .
WA!!- or THE WAVE. By 001. Prentiss Im'm‘mum.

Really Mny lliil.

95. Axhqrt, THE AxllAN; or, '1 m; r‘rcurm
or re: lecAL PALACE. By Anthony '1". 3h ll‘i“.

' ' Ready June I".

96. Double Death} or, Tax :«pr {gru- a
or Wyoxm’o. By Capt. From-rick \i'lnmm r.

~ ‘ Randy June I \in

97. Bronze Jack, THE CALiI-rmm.
THonovounnEo. By A. W. Aiken. Ready June in

or, CALlBAl _

A new ism every two wula.

Beadle’s Dime Library is (or sale by «It
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