‘ 2w 13"“Iggfiql‘jlifiimlu' In: ‘ “*6. «h /, W ' W" “Mulmml .uuzm'v‘brf a! * I 'Uilh‘ii'ifilflii’L” " m v M: 1' .uuv ‘- '! J1?19"W"!l“""‘ii?“ In " “‘""T"é*l"3i?””‘ W «I MW» h Wham-gm"3m" 5‘11" H" Ej'“ ', I; X' “in; M1 " “LCM .‘Jhthim‘ itl‘w ‘1 J! m ‘ w'f “urn” 11,1131“ “my 1‘ 1:" ‘ ‘I‘ ., L‘H:mtfidm‘huhm "‘lfiw‘.‘ m I : Ilfim'dtsn.‘ ; ‘ / I ‘ _ > _. V _ _ __ ; 7 . - 4 - — ' Human}! THE POST OFFICE AT NEW YORK. N. Y,. AT SECOND CLASS MAIL RATES.7_ . Published EVery offend/(2 (f- \ddaan, QDIIZMI'shP/as. Ten cpMHCopy. 7 310 Wedn°'d“y~ 93 WILLIAM STREET, N. ‘1'., October 5. 1m. "-00 8 Y9“- ,.. lullllll— (IR, The Detecti_v_e’s Ordeal. BY JACKSON KNOX, (0L1) muva Aurunn mr “ nwa mmox, THE FALCON DE- TEmIVE.“ “NIXEY’s my,“ "THE R()(‘KET DETECTIVE,“ “ THE mum's DETEC- Txvx,” Ina, aux, ETC. CHAPTER 1. AN INTRICATE menu-I'va CAsx. “ Is Mainwaring in tho ante-mm?" “ Yes, sir.” “ Ask mm to come tu me." The speaker was Mr. David Winkerton, chief of tbqup-tmwn branch of a. prominent private detocmve agency, who had just hnstlwl into his inner office by a private door. at about noon of a fine October day. The person udt tossed was the office janitor and sometime Stool-pigwln of the ugonoy—a. morose but observant uld man known as Old once quIttcd the mom wntu u THERE WAS A snm'K. A RI‘MHLINH REPUHT, AND THE snun Imcx. SPLINTERED ALL I . AROUND Tm; III-i'l'lfl‘TlVE FHUM L'NDERNEATH, nus; WITH HIM INTO THE AIR. «'3‘ .12 A moment later, Mainwaring entered in obedi- ‘ ence to the summons. . He was a pale. thoughtful and singularly handsome young man, With short. jetty, curling hair, piercmg coal-black eyes, and a certain fe- line grace or stealthiness of step and carriage that had earned for him among his associates the sobriquet of the Glider, or, more formally, ' the Gliding Detective. “ Maiuwaring,” said the chief, “ there’s an odd case just come in, which I think you can attend to better than any other man on the staff.” The young; man slightly nodded in acknowl- edgment of the compliment, folded his arms, and at once became all attention. “ The case, in brief, is this,” pursued Mr. Winkerton. “A certain wealth old gentleman hereinHarlem, aconfirmedinv id, is sus icions that he is being slowly and systematical y poi- soned. His p sician is of the same opinion,‘ tho h thoroug ly mystified as to the nature of the rug being secretly administered, and the identity of the criminal. You are to investigate withopt causing your true character to be us- ” 9 Mainwaring’s knitted brow cleared. “ Nothing can be easier,” he observed. “How shall you manage?” “ Accompany the physician to the iiivalid‘s bedside in the character of a professional nurse." " (kind! and flu-n 3" , “This will l'llltlblt‘ inc to muivni'si- privately and i'rmly with iln- invalid. Thou [shall rc~ gretfiiliy Ilisvovvr iliul ii"llllllll’- undertaki- the nursing or in ~ :aiul.’ mun. lint. that :i i'oiiiiwloni ' friend ->t' minn' I'illl. 'l‘m- doi-ioi' :oes'l'or him while l kmp watt-h. ’l'lu- doctor rotiiriis with Ichahal Taylor, who, as you know, was ii pro- fessional nurse before lx-coiiiingn inomlwi' of our stuff.“ “ Excellent.“ " housekeeper; and a number of servants. _ session. Itconsistsof - of the world; and Miss Lois D , Aside from Doctor . Caro us Digby, a dashing youn . town, reputed to be wealthy, and “ Having thus promoted the invalid against future poisoning attempts, I am at liberty to make my observations and work outside the sick- room.” “ Capital! The case is yours. Go to work at once." “ You haven’t mentioned the name or ad dress.” “ True,” and the chief handed him a memo- randum-slip. In spite of his customary self—control, the young detective started violently as he scanned the written lines. “ Calthorpei” he exclaimed—“ Mr. Peregrine CalthOiBe, of the Rose Hill Mansion House, cor- ner of ne Hundred and —— street and Eighth avenue." “ Exactly. So you know the house?” “ It is not unknown to me, sir.” “ And probably something of the strange household, too, judging by your emotion?" “Yes, sir." “Tell me all you know of the inmates. I would compare your information with that which has been furnished me by Doctor Jack- man the family physician.” A r a moment’s hesitation, Mainwariug collectedly, as follows: ,“Tha Calthorpe, or Rose Hill Mansion-house, it’s very old and raman one, that has been fromtimetotime repai , in the midst of ex- tensive gardens. It consists of a main or cen- fi‘al bui ding and two wings. The main build- in and north wing are occupied by the house- ho d of Mr. Peregrine, for many cars a wid- ower. and immensely wealthy. t consists of Miss Lois Calthorpe his adopted daughlur and reputed heiresi; justine Dcsclia )pull: 4. her Frenchmaid; a Mrs. Bentincko, t cold nitritgs 0 south wing is occupied by the family of Reuben Calthorpe, younger and filly brother of Pere- grine Calthorpe, by inhe ' right of joint pos- ' Mr. Reuben Calthorpe, a. ruined gamester and weak man, of uncertain means of an port; Mrs. Calthorpe, his wife, a worn-out, un ppy and rather vish woman althorpe, their daughter, a very lovely and amiable young lady. With the exception of a genuine love for hisniece, on the part of Pere ine Calthorpe, and a superficial intimacy exist ng between the {gang ladies-that is between the two Loises— reeident households are not on cordial terms. Jackman, the hysician for both families, and Mr. Fieldman, he elder Mr. Caltho ’s lawyer and man of business, the only vileged visitor at the house is a Mr. man about uown to be an ardent suitor for the hand of the poorer Miss Lois—the daughter of Mr. Reuben Calthorpe. That is the extent of my information, Mr. Wink- orton. The chief of the detective agency nodded ap- ‘ , provingly. “ Thank you, Mainwaring,” said he. _ “ It sur— passes in minutiae of detail that which I had already received, and more than ever Signalizes you as the man for this intricate case.” The detective inclined his head, and was about to withdraw, when the chief detained him by tare. . moment, Mainwarlng,” he continued. 1.. F “‘65.? \ ’ ~ . . \ ; . I. a.“ neutering, the salamander." * ‘ ‘ ‘ “ I must be kept as thoroughly informed as your- self in the affair.” “Certainly, sir. knew?” “How chances is that the two young ladies— the rich Mr. Calthorpe‘s adopted daughter and his niece—are both named Lois—an odd coinci- dence in itself?” “ It is odd, sir, but susceptible of an easy ex- plantion. The niece was named for her father’s mother, the adopted dau hter for Mr. Peregrine Calthorpe’s wife, whom e idolized while living and reveres as dead, they having never had a child of their own. The fact of the name hav- ing been previously duplicated was, of course, a pure accident.” “ Humphl but, how are the young ladies dis- tinguished apart in conversation?” “ Easily enough. The niece is addressed or referred to by her given name in full—as Lois, or Miss Lois; the adopted daughter by achildish abbreviation of the same—IsSie, or Miss Issie.” “ Ah! quite a complication, to be sure. One thing more, Mainwaring?” “ What is it, sir?” “ How do you happen to know so much of the strange Calthorpe households?” “ Must I answer that, sir?" “ I prefer that you Would.” A slight. flush ad come into the yonn )alo cheek, and he hit his lip under the inn of his wavy, jet-black mustache. “ All right, sir,” said ho, with a faint gesture of iiii; iilio-iico. “ It is but natural that I Should know so much of the Calthorpes as I do.“ “ Whvf" " M i... lmis (Inlthorpe is secretly my betrothed «against, the wishes of her parents, could they lint suslwvt it, for they are determined to marry her to (Iiii‘oliis llighy, if possible. Moreover, Miss ,l-‘sio- Ualthorpo is either my dcudlv enemy or my ardent admirer, I don’t exactly know which. There you have it, sir." Pronouncing the last words a little brusquely. Mr. Winkerton had smiled at first but only for an instant. “ I thank you for this expression of your con- fidence, Mainwaring,” he gravely observed. “ The case is in our hands. Perhaps the sup- posed poisoning is altogether in the o d gentle- man’s imagination. But, see the physician at once, and report to me this evening, either in person or by verbal message. B the way, shallr'you want a secret fol ower or that pur- se “I think not, sir.” “ Old Newthe is at your disposal, if you say the word." “ Not him, in any case!” This with a good- deal of energy. Mr. Winkerton laughed. “ I had forgotten your distrust of the old fel- low—a distrust wholly undeserved on poor Newthe’s part, I am sure.” What more would you man’s elicatc “I beg to differ with you there, sir. But I shall report to you in person. New I am off, sir. “ Au reom’r, and good-luck to you, Mainwar- ingl By the way, be careful of the excava- tions under way at the front of the building, for I believe the workmen are OR to dinner.” The detective disappeared. The agency ofiices occupied the fourth floor of a large new building, in East 122d street whose front sidewalk was roughly boarded over, consequent upon a deep engine vault that had for several days been in the course of con- struction undm'm-ath. Passing through the ante-room, with his wontml swift and noiseless step, the detective nodded to a few fellow-operators who were loungin there, returned Old Newthe’s cringing bow wit an ignoring stare, while notin a little curiousl that the janitor appeare hard- breath , as if from recent unusual exertion. Passing along the outer passage, and down the thmflights of stairs, he was cressing the temporary sidewalk to the street when .the planks glove way beneath his tread, precipitat- in him eadlong into the abyss. workman, accompanied by a bulldog, saw the catastrophe, and rushed to the side of the opening. “ Are you alive, sir?” he shouted down. “ Yes, ’ was the collected response from low. “ Fortunately, I’ve saved myself by grip- ing a side-timber down here. Lower me that rope dangling at your elbow, and I shall be all ' ht his was accordin ly done, and a moment later the detective h extricated himself, none the worse for the mishap, that might well have caused his death. . “ Bless me, sir, but you’re lucky!" exclaimed the workman. “ How could that spot have been left so unsafe?” “ It wasn’t left so, but designedly made so, perhaps for my particular bene t.” The man stared. ' “A regular man- trap, I tell you!” continued the detective. “ Step out here in the street, 90 that you can see down obliquely, and I Will show you where the supports have been pur- pose! removed, and that but freshly.” Sti wondering, the man followed him, and they both stepped out ovr-r the street lino. It was doubly fortunate that the y did so, for, at that instant a jar of vitriol, hurled or dis- placed from a window-ledge somewhere high overhead, came crashing down on the spot they had occupied, scatterin its burning and corro- sive contents in every irection. The men escaped, but the workman’s dog was not so fortunate. Drenched with the dead] acid, the poor brute s an shriekin ly aroun , and in a little while exp red in fright iii a onies. The horrified master exploded with pro unity, and shook his fist at the upper windows. “Accident or no accident,” he yelled, “ I’ll have the law on the murderer of my dog!” “ No you won’t, because you can‘t prove it as intentional,” observed the detective, sympathiz- ingly. “That 'ar of vitriol was on the inner window ledge 0 our front office, and I strongly suspect that the dose was meant for me—that the same hand hurled it as caused the secret re- moval of those planking-supports. But, that is to be proven. Leave it to me, and I may help you to your revenge.” The man appeared somewhat mollified by the steel-cold intelligence with which these words were uttered, and Mainwaring hurriedly pro- ceeded on his way, to avoid the sightsech who were already collecting. But ho had hardly Touched the opposite street corner before he was arrested by a friendly touch on the arm. He recognimd a young man named Luke .lnr- dine, a perenniil friend and a sometime employee of the agency in an amateurish way, to whom he briefly related what liiid happened. “ Whom do on suspect!" asked Jardinc. “ Old Newt c, as a matter of course. Say nothing, however, Luke, but quietly make your observations up in the offices, and meet me at nine this evening at our rendezvous near Mount Morris Park.” “ What, Guy ?” this in a lower tone; “ you hope to persuade the young lady at last?” An assenting look was his response, and they separated. An hour later, Mainwaring dential terms with the invalir the spacious sick—room, which also answer a studg’and library. Mr. ere rine Calthorpe was in bed, propped by his pii ows. The physician had come and one, after making the necessary introduction, t e arrival of the nursedetective, Ichabod Tay- lor, was momentarily expected. the most trust- ful relations had been established between in— valid and visitor, and the former was more cheerful and at ease than he had been for many a da . “ Kow for a few questions, Mr. Calthorpe,” remarked the detective, genially,” " that is if you feel ual to them.” Mr. Calt orpe blinked his shrewd old eyes and chuckled, after a way of his. “ Yes, yes, Mr. Mainwaring," said he. " We’re all safe now. Go ahead !” “ You feel sure that your medicina have been tampered with!” “ Of course, of course! So does Jackman. Else why this steady falling away when I should have been gaowing better? “True. hom do you suspect!” “ There’s the rub. young man. I "act no one—I simply can’t.” “You will not take gffense at any hint that m ueries may on t y‘ one whateverggTshe deuce, nol Cut away.” “ Does your brother or brother’s wife visit you was 11 n confl- old gen eman in as regularly?” ‘ Not regularly, or at all. Wouldn‘t have ’em here, and they know it. My niece, Lois. often comes. but she is a little angel. right i” “What is all right sir!” “ So far as my brother Rube trying to meddle with my medicines. He may be capable of it— curse him! I think he is; a played-out am— bler is capable of an thing. But, he isn’t own for a cent in my wil , and he knows it.” . Here there was a slight movement behind th bed-hangings—which were of the old-fashioned kind—suggesting a possible eavesdropper, and the detective started to explore the room. Oh, that is all CHAPTER II. THE TWO Lorsiiis. “YOU did that once before,” commented the sick man, a little peevishly. as the detective re- sumed his seat by the couch. “ Mice, mice, I tell you! Nobody would dare to eavesdrop upon me I ” “ Pardon me, sir, but it strikes me that any one who would attempt to poison you might readily attem t to overhear our conversation.” This seem to impress Mr. Calthorpe. “ Possibly, posSibly l” he muttered in his jerky wa . “ Proceed, young man.” “ ou Spoke of your will.” The invalid chuckled to himself, after a thou htful pause. “ ha, I see your drift!" said be. “You would know its purport, eh, and thus obtain a motive?” “ Exactly, sir." “ Good enough!” Then snappishly, after an- other chuckling pzznsc: "Everything I have I ,w‘fifi- tips“: . _ a ,._.. ....._ A "- 71"? I Mainwaring, the Salamander. w». 3 was set down for Issie, my adopted daughter, subject to a small annuity for Reuben’s Lois.” “Ah! and is MISS Issie perfectly aware of this?” “ Perfectly.” “Has she been your chief nurse uptothis time?” “ Yes, assisted by Mrs. Bentincke.” There wasa et longer pause, that was pres- ently broken y the old man, in a troubled voice. “ Drop this suggestion right here, Mr. Main~ waring, I beg of ou!” he continued. “I hate to think of Issie in sucha connection. I may have had my suspicions, but all’s safe now, and —oh,"dasli it all! no more on that pomt, I tell you. “ As you please, sir; thought I would like to pursue the subject in a different direction.” “ Certainly, certain] l” “ What was your opted daughter’s extrac- tion ?” Mr “Ali, hum! Little is known of it. I lamented wife and I adopted her out of an in- i stitution when she was no more than fom' years old. She’s twenty now—same age as Reuben’s Lois. dear little iiigruic.‘T Nothing was esvnping the ill-tective‘s penetrae tiVo i)l)N_-l‘\illl( >n. \Vifc idolized lwr. and so have I—the‘ thought Mainwaring, as he quitted the room. “Under Ichabod’s nursin and guardianship, he ought to be himself again in short order.” The sick-room was on the ground floor, just off the main hallway, to the north. Immediately in the adjoining corridor the de- tective was timidl approached by a wild-eyed little girl, who ha ev1dently been awaiting his re-appearance there. It was an ex-street Arab, known to Main- waring as having been domesticated by Mrs. Bentincke, the housekeeper not long before. “ What is it, Clip?” he asked, in a guarded voice. “ Please, sir,” whispered the child, “ I tuk yer message to Miss Lois. She’ll meet yer in the south-side garding, if you kin sneak your way there without bein’ see’d. But, she wanted me to Say—91 The remainder was frozen on her lips b the sound of an approachingl step over the ad joming main hall, causing the - ild to disappear as i by magic. The detective also made himself small in a convenient doorway as a comm ing presence-— n close-Upped, biotic-brode w n, considera- bly past her prime, with a bunch of keys at her gird e—swept along tilt‘ passage. Mainwaring remained for a moment, thinking . hard. “Nothing weo‘ known of 11‘? parentage, then!" “ Not much. Name oi' (ii-inishy. I believe, ._ lint that’s noth- and undonbiedlyu bad lot. " Bad lot— ing,” with growing impatience. disa ) red—hau- never troubled Issie or me!” ‘ “ ho is Mrs. lientinckel” “ Ahu! you’re there, are you, old truepenny, . like the host in Hamlet? “'ho is Mrs. Ben- tincke? Lthy, she’s Mrs. Bentinckc." “ Of course; but is anything known of her history?” “ I’m sure I don’t know, sir; but she came to me, excellently recommended, some years back. it widow, I believe, and almost a mother to Is- 919. ca his one.” are they were interrupted by the arrival of the newlyengaged man-nurse. Ichabod Taylor was a short, thick-set man, of quiet, respectful air. He said that the situation had been explained to him by the doctor, at once set about making himself maimed with the room, and then, after carefu y examini the medicines on the little table, seated himsef by the head of the with a grave cheerfulness of manner that seamed to prepossess the invalid forthwith. “ I am, at your service, sir,” said he, submis- sively; “ and [ sha’n’t quit my post a single in- stant you are good and hearty on your feet am. r. Caltho rubbed his thin hands together deli htedlj. me “ e'll 0,,he'll do!" he chuckled, turning to Mainwaring, who had risen to go. “No more intermeddlin —no more tampering—I feel it in my bones. -by, young man, and much obliged l” The detective bent over the couch. “ You then feel perfectly safe now—protect- ed?” he whispered. “ Yes, yes; perfectly so.” .“ Will you then accept a parting piece of ad- nce, as an aditional precaution—in fact, as a Y chnchgggomlme?’ hen es, ; is, at me r it first.” “ It is his—send for your lawyer, and alter your will With the least possible delay.” The old man seemed at first astonished, and then ave one of his comprehending chuckles. “A ter it how?” he whispered, blinking his eyes. _ “ In the mention of its chief beneficiary—that is, leaving the bulk of your estate to some one other than Miss Issie, your ado ted daughter— and then, let the fact be general y known.” “ 00d idea—a clincher, as you say. B Jove! utg'on’re a deep one, Mainwaring! I‘ll do it—I‘ll o it, and to-morrow morning at the furthest." “ Wh not now, to—day f” ‘ Mr. Lalthorpe {ecoser putaskinny forefinger to his wrinkled eft eye, and drew down the low? lid. ‘ oung man,” said he, with a rtiug chuckle, “do you see anything partig‘mlarly green in there?” ‘ Not wholl understanding him, the detective smiled, nod ed to Ichabod, and moved toward the door. “ I an _. young man!” the invalid called after him. Id 113 ever strike you that you might have been a. lady, and a Spanish lady at that, in some former state of existence?” thuNoa IDcan’lj say that it ever did, Mr. Cal~ 9‘ . idedoleait strike you that way!" “ Why so. “ Because Of Your floating walk, which one selde 9986 save among the women of Spain or the Spanish Americans. It is fairly rhythmic, my boy—lib" “‘9le 0f motion. You ought to be successful with the ladies. He, he, he!” Thieves Mr. Calthorpe’s farewell plensautry. “Surely, our invalid is improving already.” A good woman, sir—a good woman, and a , “0f whatoilier fen-'v- docs (lie liousokncpcr‘s yawni'ly putnii- in mind?" an]! ho to himself. "Strung"! 1! i» l 51.1”;9‘15‘i"! than n l'n,'- ' 51-iiililiiiii'o,:ilid 5'. i ('H, ' plus“ i . limhw i. it doubtless lll;lli.-l'< :‘ '~ A 5'." He hurried with l:.- Jilin; ~ 1' ' ‘ '~‘.o‘, . entrance, hoping to l'i'ul'll the mafia—411v: g'iifiiii'll without being observed. But, another step startled him. He turned to confront a superbly handsome f and statuesque young woman of the brunette ty )e, slowly descending the stately staircase. 0 place his hand on his heart and make a low bow of becoming humility was instinctive with the young man, as he recognized in the fair vision Miss Issie Calthorpe, the petted darling of the rich man’s household. She started at him with mingled scorn, hatred, contempt and something else (what. was it, love, rage, “ionate reproach, or what”, and then pa out of view as unconcernedly as if he Were no more animate or notew0rthy than the carved hat-rack against which he was posing. Smiling to himself, the detective lost no more time in seeking the garden trysting-place, after first making a pretense of approaching the main gate. As he did so a singularly-lovely young woman —as tall and statuesque as the beauty of the staircase, but a perfect blonde, and inilnitely more gentle and fascinatin ——-came out of a small summer-house to meet im. He held out both hands, quickened his ad- vance, his eyes sparkling, the color leaping into his face. She tried to reprove him by her look and hearing, but in vain.‘ The garden seemed wholl deserted but for those loving two; the rich co or came and went in her delicate cheeks; her maidenly bosom rose and fell, and there was a fluttering hesitation in her attempted dignity. The next instant she was in his arms. “ Ah, Guy, but you are not considerate!” mur— mured Lois, after releasin herself from the first passionate embrace. “ by are you here? You know how offended both my father and mother would be.” ’ He told her the object of his professional visit to her uncle. She had never heard of the suspicion of poison, and was reatly shocked. “ Still, she pre-ently said, returning to their own aflairs, “ it is wrong for us to be meeting thus after my parents’ declared o sition.” “ I could not glo without just one iss, dearest,” and he herewit helped himself to the twen- tieth! “Besides, I wanted to an interview at our old tryst in Mount Morris ark this even- in .” g‘How can I grant it, after that last scene with my father and mother, at which you were present?” “ And in which,” be interposed bitterly, “ they peremptorily declared that l was not good enough for you, being only a poor detective— that you must perforce accept the addresses of the man you detest, that gilded d0~nothing, Carolus Digby, or of no man else!” “ True,” she turned away her face, “ but my duty is obedience to them, so far as not meeting you ain.” “ on are almost of age, Lois; it is ridicu- lous, this treating you like a refractory school- girl! You must meet me at eight this evening. It is vital. Say that you will.” “ But I warn iyou, Guy, it will be useless to again press me to a secret marriage with you. I am more set against that than ever.” “When it would be your sole protection, geigldrthey push you to the wall with regard to 1 .Y he sighed. “Yes even then. It will be useless to press mo further.” , “ We shall son.“ “ What do you mean, Guy?" “Lois, I have it all arranged, in case I can win our consent." “ hat arranged? What do you mean! Guy, I shall grow angry !” “ Not till you shall have reasoned with your- self. Listen, Lois: It is our secret marri your safeguard against continued persecution. should it become unbearable—that I have ar- ran ed.” u h, Guy!” Even his redoubled tenderness could not quiet her distress. “ Listen. Lois,” he went on. “ A trusted old clergyman living not far from here—a friend of my boyhood, who is about to start on an ex— ' tensive journey-will tie the knot for us in secret this very ni ht.” “ Oh, Guy, don’ I” . “ His own wife and a devoted friend of mine (Luke Jardine, the honorable young man whom you once met in my company) will be the witv nesses. I swear to you that we shall separate directly at the close of the ceremony. But, you will have the marriage-certificate in “our pos- session. You can protect yourself wit it when and where you choose, while I shall obediently await your pleasure for the assertion of my rights.‘ The young girl had become white. " Guy, ii cannot. it must not be!” she exclaim- o l, desperately. ‘~ Think ll oerlu-ing me your deliberate an- uxm- ilzl‘ .-\ ivixiic~—iii'i)iiii “ All is over!” he exclaimed, flinging himself ‘ ‘7. into a chair. “She was adamant to my en- . treaties—the specter of filial disobedience, the ! _r world’s disapproval, was too much for her. I ! shouldn’t wonder if the ’d force her to the altar ; with that despicable op, Digby, inside of a‘ 1. A; month!” ' i And he entered into some particulars of the interview. 4. . Young Jardine who was a man of sense and f reflection beyond his wordly experience, listened ‘ in silence. “ It is no more than I ex noted,” was his quiet ‘ comment at last. “ Miss Calthorpe must be an ‘ exce tionally noble and prudent young lad y.” it" ‘ “ rudent flddlesticks! My motives were the i _ purest—my sole object the security of the girl i . against foul and mercenar desi us.” 7“: “ Exactly—and possessmn 0 her personal L Iibert , at the expense of her finer, most civilized i a , scru es!" i in, v “ uke, you talk like a crank! But what am 7» I to do? I’ll kill that Digby on sight!” :~. -. “ No, on won’t. You’ll just listen to me, and I $34,? wait. iris with hearts like Lois Calthorpe’s‘ " don’t sacrifice them on the altar of detestation " oven to repay the gamblin losses of a ruined father, or to gratifya Wea , worldly mother’s ' vanity.” And Mainwaring did listen to the superior wisdom of his friend, to such purpose, indeed, that in an hour or two he was in a much better, if not wholly resigned frame of mind. f I “ Come, now,” sai Jardine in conclusion , , “ let us take a parting cigar in the Park. ’Twili do on good.” his was accordingly done, Jardine in the mean time diverting his friend from his soreness «by conversing of the latter’s narrow escapes , ugh the day. They had about come to the conclusion that ,i, Jiainwaring was the intended victim in either .. case, and that, while the deadly animus of z v,Carolus Di by was sufficient] lainin his at- : tempt, the milar animosity 0 1d Newthe was it still wra ped in mystery, when the detective suddenly me aware that his companion and he had unconsciously strolled to the very spot y: where he had parted from Lois a couple of hours ' previously. He was alluding to it to Jardine when he ab- ’ n paused, grasping his friend’s arm. : 7 graceful figure of his betrothed was even now a roachin the spot. : “ she—’tis is!” heexclaimed inahoarse ' whisper. “The fates beprajsed! ferhaps she “ hasrecomidered her refusal! Throw away your cifi', Luke, and stand a little apart.” ’ 9 young lady, as could be easiluy seen by the a, , sifting moonligh , was closely Vail and dressed j 5 at as when separating from her disconsolate -' _» or two hours before, but. there was new something mechanically resolute, though like- a sort of timidity in her a preach. She hurried! placed her ban in her lover’s, as , be wondering y and delightedly advanced to that r. . ' “ Come, Guy, come!" she murmured, in a , strangely dreamy voice; “ I haVe thought better d it,0nymyface must not be seen, andwe i ,. must haste, haste, haste! We shall be rivately 7 ganged, as you proposed—that is, if it not too " “ darling, my adored! it is never too late. an. W s house is but a few steps from this, a can hardly have started on his our- -ney as yet. God bless you for this reconsi era- ‘ '&m “50231! (310mm tLuki?‘ is“th ii: 3’ r. a ne cares , w o e wines- of our marriag .” f‘ j The young woman made no answer or reco - nition, butonl clung mechanical] to her lover s dds, as if stil somewhat dazed y the step she .was‘ taking, and the trio at once' roceeded to 1 , ,the house of the minister, a Rev. r. Quacken- 5 bush of West 125th street. . Both the clergyman and his wife were both surprised at the unseasonableness of the visit, as .flieywere finishing the preparations for their ' Roi-nay, intendin to take a train that n lit for orida, after wh ch the were to exten their tri indefinitel amongt West India islands. till no ob tions were offered, s'v , rapturous kiss upon her cold lips. ! contented themselves with keeping the young u n ' wry ex nations hein made, thoe cere- Imonywas speedily performed. , therlng put on, . r. “A - r ' ' . \.A ' a9 4.- .w v . h 1’ . w h. and the marriage-certificate handed to the bride, who, while Eersisting in keeping her vail dowcrii'l I e had made t responses in a ow and mechani but rfectly distinct voice. ” t is very unusual, my dau hter, this con- cealment of your face during sue an important ceremony,” said the old minister, as he grave- ] kissed her through her vail, “ but it is none the less your privilege, and I wish on all hap- piness. God bless on both, in chi dren.” Then Mrs. Quac enhush co ially pressed the young lady’s hand, the trio returned to the street, and the marriage was an accomplished fact. It was only in the semi-darknem of the open air that Mainwariu ventured to fold his bride to his heart, and, li ting her vail, be pressed a “That will do Guy! No more, no more! Let me 0 now. i must hurr back home alone. Remem r your promise. insist that you shall not accompany me thither!” There was the same mechanical burriedness in her tone and manner, as she tore herself from his embrace, and sped swiftly away in the di- rection of the nsion-house. The detective only shrugged his shoulders— I he was too ha py to be very particular just then— i and, as the d stance was not great, the two men ! woman in sight until she had disappeared , through the garden gate. 1 “ Congratulate me, Luke!” then exclaimed : Mainwaring, impulsively catching his friend in , his arms. “It wasa uecr sort of marriage, 1 with precious little festivity about it, but she is . mine at last, and I am the happiest fellow alive!” l Luke Jardine returned the brotherly embrace, ‘i and uttered a few commonplace words of con- ! gratulation. , “Shall you venture to visit the Calthorpe ! house in the morning?” he asked, as they were about to separate. “1 shall have to, under orders, to see how 1 our poison dreading invalid is rogressing,” , was the reply. “ And of course I s all contrive to get a kiss from Lois, if nothin more. Good- 1 night, old fellow. I feel as if were treading! on air!” But, when the Gliding Detective boldly en- tered the Rose Hill Mansion-house soon after; the breakfast hour, he was astounded, to say I the least, on encountering Lois bidding a polite ! adieu to Carolus Digby in the hall. I She also held a newly-presented bouquet of rare flowers rather hesitatingly in her hand, but , met his (Mainwaring’s) reproachful-indignant! look with a lance of innocent surprise. ‘ Digby too his departure leisurely, with a: glance of lnsolent triumph at the new-comer. “Lois, my beloved, what does this meani”: staminered the bridegroom of the preceding a ni ht. " You accept fimvers from that man?” , ‘ I didn‘t wish to, Guy,” was the slightly con— 1 fused reply, “but he breakfasted With us, at! mamma’s invitation, and I did not wish to pain her by refusing his gift. What matters it, any- way, since you know thatI care nothing for l the conceited fellow?” l Mainwaring was still further mystified. i “ Still.” be {altered “you—you accept his offering after—after w at occurred last night?” ; She looked at‘him in unaffected astonishment. | “To what do you allude, sir!” she asked. a little haughtily. “ To my final rejection of , your mad reposition! I thought it was suffi- ciently ex icit.” “ Lois t is you that are mad! I do not refer to that, but to the subsequent event.” “ What event!” “ The marriage services at Mr. Quackenhush’s house—the ceremony, duly witnessed and cer- ' tificated, that made you my wife. How can you ask!” Her look of blank amazement gave place to a {vafve of indignant color springing into her love- y nos. "‘You have taken leave of your senses!" she exclaimed. “ Or, do you mean to jest with me? It is unworthy of you.” Then she ate back, placin her hand to her forehead. an murmuring a ctedly: “ I dreamed it—I dreamed it all so vividly! Bow : should he know of my dream, and thus try to ' materialize it into an actual hep ningl” The young man now lost his so f-coutrol. “It is you who are jesting!“ he cried. “,Or do you really mean to deny our marriage.” ‘ There was none to deny. Sir, you are be- side ourself!” “ on have the minister's certificate in your possession." She now looked at him with positive alarm, and just then her mother chancing to cross the main hall, came to her support. “What! is this obscure person ventu to annoy you again, my dear?” exclaimed rs. Calthorpe, grandly. “ Come with me to your father, who shall again be informed of this man’s presumption.” As Lois was being borne away by her mother —and willingly enough, it seemed—the dazed {gang man had just sense enough to notice that I e weddingring was no longer on her finger. I A low, velvety voice mused him out of his stupefactiou. “ Mr. Mainwarin ——Guy!” The other Lois—t e superb brunette beauty, Issie Calthorpe—was standing tremblineg be— fore him her Eroudly beautiful face covered with confused, alt-guilty blushes. “ Forgiva the trick,” she murmuredk“ but I— I had loved you so long, so hopeless] ! He could only stare at her in dum bewilder- ent. “ What! not a word of forgiveness! Have I sinned bevond pardon, then?” “ Miss Calthorpe,” he managed to blurt out, " what are you talking about Ber confusion was increased, causing her to look inexpressiblii; bewitching—for one who might have loved er. ‘ Guy, I practiced a deceit upon on,” she faltered. “ I—l knew of the other LOis’s rejec- tion of your proposal, and 1—1 personated her at the second interview, and also at the cere— mony.” " WHAT!” “ Don‘t murder me with your contem t— don’t, Guy! 1—] know it was wrong—dis on- orable—hut I loved you so dearly !” Mainwaring mused himself by a at effort to the demands of the unheard-o. complica- tion. “ You my wife?" he hoarser ejaculated. “ Im- possible!” “No, no: it is true, Guy. Evervthiug aided me—my vail, the obscurity of t e night, the taciturnity in which I persisted, the similarity of our names—I wonder now that the deception ‘ was successfully carried out. but it was so. He burst into a hard laugh. “ You rave, Miss Calthorpe! This is insanity, or something Worse. " “ Ah, you kill me with our doubts! Am I so hideous, then, that you s ould so shrink from me, apur bride, your Wedded wife?" “ oman, have done! The farce grows ‘ wear it “ gilt test me as to the truth of what I say, Guy! I can describe every incident of the cere- mony, the demeanor of your best man, Mr. Jar- dine, the minister’s words as he kissed me through in vail—everything. And look!” She be] out her hand, upon which his wed- din -ring verily glistened, and also drew from her in the marriage—certificate. It was too much. The young man recoiled with a great dread at heart. Was what she asserted wholly impossible? Might not the deception have been successfully carried out, as she claimed? _ The painful situation was relieved by a loud shriek from near at hand. They rushed into the sick-room, from which it ’ had proceeded. One horrified servant, the giver of the alarm, was already there. Tragedy had accompanied mystery in the Rose Hill Mansion-house! Mr. Peregrine Calthorpe was breathing heavi- ly, in a comatose condition, an empty laudanum bottle clutched in his shriveled hand. Bolt upright in his chair, but with his head on his breast, sat the sick man’s nurse and ardian, Ichabod Taylor, dead, stabbed to the cart by a deep dagger-thrust delivered from behind! It seemed evident at a lance that the nurse had first been d' of t at the invalid might be isoned with impunity, the empty vial in his and being but a clumsy effort at disguising the truth. Among the horrified spectators of this terrible scene, none were more demonstrative in their gist than Issie Calthorpe and Mrs. Bentiiicke, e housekeeper. The emergency had served to re-establish the coolnes of the detective, who at once assumed the immediate responsibilities of the occasion. Dr. J ackman was, of course, speedily sum- moned as an initial measure. He succeeded in rousin the poisoned gentle- man out of his deadly le rgy, but only for a fewdilieconds—the last flicker of the expiring can e. But, during that brief respite Mr. Calthorpe struggled into a sitting posture, the ht of in- telligence reviving for an instant in is fading e es. y“ Murdered—murdered, but in vain!” he gas . “ A later will, a later will!” T on he fell back, and all was over. CHAPTER IV. uouxxrous nurmxrrms. “WHY don’t you give iii—acknowledge the {£33118 lady as your wife, and have done with 11%“:33112 w my m... i... e r story 0 t tion she racticed upon you is perfectly plausi- ble, and , for one, believe it." “And I, for One other, do not.” “ You’re growing soft, Mainwarlng. You iionk’t’lmow when you are in everlasting good no . “ What do you mean, Mr. Winkertoul” “ Miss Issie, _ our wife in spite of yourself—” “Don’t sa t t again, sir, if you please!” “ Well, t en, the beautiful and infatuated young lady who claims you as her husband‘” .. .3". ;,T‘a.-..a-—-—~=c 4' j’if'm“ v _ Fr: g-g- -— 3.: 1......750 ._ . , . ~ . 1 """T~ for: 3! v'-_” i- .._’.,r T. - -A, . .. " «rum-.- ‘ 1 <.- 7 "was “Tr-‘1' - in vain! 5 “ That is better.” “ While the blonde Miss Lois as emphatically declares that you are not her husband, as you claim.” “ True, too true!" “She, that is, Miss Issie is enormously rich, as her adoptive father’s sole heiress, longing but for the opportunity of laying her fortune, no less than her heart at your feet.” “ Granted, as to her willingness, but not as to her abilit , to do as you say.” “ How’fX “ She is not rich yet. The will has not been admitted to probate.” “ Pshaw! A fortnight has elapsed since the double murder at Rose Hill, and there is no Sign of a later will than the one that was found by Mrs. Bentincke among the old gentleman’s apex-s.” “ Still, Mr. Ficldman, his legal adviser, may have a later one in his possession.” “And Mr. Fieldman is mysteriously missin —as undiscoverably eflaced as is the ministeria crank who performed your marriage ceremony -—and nothing has been found among his docu- mentary remains.” “ But he may have carried a later will, to- gether with other valuable documents, on ' person.” “ Not very likely, as you must admit.” “ Yes, but ihle.” “Oh, anything is possible!” This with con- temptuous impatience. “ Besides the old lawyer may be dead—like enough is dead—a case of suicide. He is known to have been melancholy and eccentric." “Mr. Fieldman is not dead, and I shall at find him, together with the later will. I fee it in m bones.” “ he deuce, man! To feel is not to know. I believe your later will idea to be a In th.” “ How do you account for Mr. altho ’s dying ejaculations?—‘ Murdered—murdered, ut A later will, a later will!’ " “ Dying ravings! or I don’t account for them at all, whichever you please.” “ Ah!” composedly; “ but you can’t ignore them so indifi'erently—no thoughtful man can.” “Perhaps not,” and Mr. Winkerton knitted his brows. It was late of a certain evenin ,a fortnight after the tragic events at Rose ill, and they were conversing alone in the private oflice of the up—town detective cy. “ Apart from all we ave been saying, Main- waring,” continued Mr. Winkerton‘, a little im- tiently, after a troubled pause, ‘the case is fist this: Miss Issie Calthorpe, the prospective eiress, oflers ten thousand dollars reward for the discovery and arrest of her adoptive father’s assassin, or assassins, she having accumulated that much money, and a little more, from Mr. Calthorpe’s generous bounty during his life- time.” “ Yes, sir.” “ We are interested in securing this money for the agency, ahead of the regular police ‘le- tectives.” “ Certainly.” “And at the same time to avenge the cold- blooded murder of our poor brother-in-arms, Ichabod Ta lor.” “ I shoul say so!” “ Well, shall we continue to intrust you in the case, irrespective of your feelings in this mysterious marriage complication, in which, as a matter of course, you alone are personally in- “ he so. Mr. Winkerton.” “ ! but you must dissembla with Miss Issie, in order to succeed.” The detective knitted his brows and then rose determined] to his feet. “ I shall 0 my best.” “ The inquests have left us literally nothing to go on.” i: h?“ an suspec M I on s t iss ssie and the housekeefieri" “ Yes; and one other. as accomplice or prin- cipal I don’t know which." “ And that other!“ “"This cockney-aping fraud, Carolus Dig- y. 2“ So; but dfn you iknové that he is glmudf” partly ow t. eisa i adven- turer—a wolf in the swell wag; he‘d: which heumana to foist himself.” “ $th is ourtfirtzt outside ste 0 one on e dimep ta Miss Issie’s parents.” u “ And your next!" ' “ To shadow down Digby.” . “ Excellent! Now, how shall you side track in the Rose Hill households “ I have already got it.” :: glow?” two ways. First b is Inie’s French as J33“; Darth?” m" °° b° m . Lake “dim Y , ove With my oonfrere, Goodifi i ouare ti'in alo .” “ Second, through the ttle dxg'udgggCli ity as. state. first WWW w vo on old kindness." me’ ’ m" ° in the case?” 1e Grimsbys, tthein- / “ Still better, perhaps. Where are you 03 to, now’l” “ In the first place, among the Fourth Ward slums, to look 11 the Grimsby clew. After that to Rose Hill, w ere Luke is secretly on guard during my absence.” “ Too many irons in the fire, Guy! You should have another assistant, especially for the Grimbsy trail.” “ I would like another—a good one.” “ I have provided him for you.” “Who is it?” “ Old Newthe!” The Gliding Detective made a gesture of as- tonishment and disgust. Mr. Winkerton was at no loss to interpret its ‘ significance. “ Nonsense, Mainwaring !” continued he. “ The man is invaluable in his line, and your suspi- cions of his secret enmity are unreasonable." “ Are they 1” “ Yes. M investigations have convinced me that he coul have had no hand in your tumble into the excavation, or in throwing the vitriol.” “ I hope you are right, sir.” “ You accept him, then?” “ Certainly, sir; your word is law.” “ But, I want you to throw over your an- tipathy—in other words, to give him a chance.” “ Trust me for that.” The chief touched his bell. It was answered by Old Newthe himself, as obsequious and unconcerned as ever, though he had sedulously eavesdropped from the start. “ I shall hold myself subject to Mr. Main- waring’s orders," said be, when the proposed dut had been explained to him. T en, upon the special service being particu- larized, be astonished them both b exclaiming: “ Old Tom Grimsbi, eh? Why, knowed ’em all—man, wife an’ id—in the old times! If they’re on earth or outside 0’ quod, I’ll run ’em d0wn for ye, an —willin’, at that!” He rubbed his ha nds, chuckling with a sort of ghoulish glee as he spoke. “ What did I tell you!" cried Mr. Winkerton, clapping Mainwarin on the shoulder. “ Didn’t I so that our Old ewthe was your man?” “ shall be lad of his co-operation,” said the detective,, landly. " You knew Grimsby in the past, then, Newthei” “ We was river thieves together fur five years, sir,” was the quiet rejoinder. “ I’ve been sorter wantin’ to meet him again.” This, with a steely glitter in the sinister eyes. “ It war his false evidence, together with his wife’s, what rail- roaded me to Sing Sing, along of robbin’ a con le 0’ sailors, sixteen year agonei” T en there was a sound like the filing of a cross-cut saw, which, however was only Old Newthe gritta'ng his teeth behind his tightrdrawn bps. h.Mainwaring began to warm a little toward 1 m. “ You alluded to a-child of theirs,” said he. “ Yes, sir. A purty little chit of three or four. I’ve heerd it was sent to some charity an‘ arterwards adopted by some rich gent an’ his leddy.” “ Exactly. But you’ve lost all track of the parents since their shabby treatment of you i" “ I should say so, sir, or they’d hev know’d it afore this.” And the old man’s still sinewy hands twitched convulsively. “ Where shall we look for them now!” “Among the sailors’ boardin’-houses, if any- where,” was the reply, after a thoughtful pause. “ All right; I’ll talk to on further.” Mainwario and the ol man lost no time in taking their 9 re. “Good-luck! the chief called after them. “ You’ll not fail of it if you only all together.” Mainwaring consulted his wa upon reach- ing the street. ‘ Early yet "said he. “ I believe I shall ac- company ou 11 your initial inquiries, Newthe.” The 0] fellow eyed the detective’s neatly- dressed fi re, and slowly shook his head. " I’d a vise you not to, sir,” said he. “The sailtig-sggi’ns ain’t exactly mvitin’, ’specially by gas- g . 81“ D1!)”yon suppose I don’t know them! Come ong Reach the lower part of the cit , they made ca‘iiifous inqgiries in the neighborhood of Water street and col: Slip, and“ finally came to a pause before a vile den g into an alley- wa . near the latter locality. ‘ There was music and dancing within and the atmosphere that came out of the open door and windows was like the blast from a distillery on re. “Best let me in alone, sir," said Old Newthe. “ This wuss than all, and an old stamplnhground of mine. It’s the Sailor-’8 Eggs. ainwaring reflected that perhaps hiscom-’ panion could best pursue his in mries alone. “ All right," he assented. ‘ I shall remain here till you return.” Men and women of the vilest sort were reeling in and out of the doorway, over which a blue lamp was dial-g burning. In a mom. . or two after being 10“ .1090. .’.' I 3 this lamp was mysterious] extin ' hed,and the detective found himsel sudden y assaulted by five or six tough characters in the semi- darkness of the alleyway. “ He’s lookin’ up Tom Grimsby—he’d sell us out, too, if he had the chance!” growled one of the assailants. “ Pound the head off of him! Put him full of holes!” - But they had reckoned without a correct ap— reciation of Guy Maiuwaring, the Gliding Detective. He seemed to flit here, there and away again, as if shod with felt, his movements were like lightning, his fists were everywhere at once. like the spokes of a flying—wheel, there was anas~ tonisbing pugilistic display of attack. parry and defense, and his blows were of the trip- han.mer quality. Still, such Were the odds that the detective might have fared badly, but for a shadowy figure suddenly springing out of the den, cudgel in hand, and rushing to his rescue. “Scoundrels! Scum of the earth! don’t you know me ?” hissed the new new-comer, dealing terrific blows right and left. “ Have you for. gotten the whip-hand of old days?” v Such of the ruflians as had not been prostrated . _ were put to flight, and then the lamp, being sud- I x, denly relighted as mysteriously as it had been extinguished, revealed the rescuer calmly lean- ing on his cudgel. , , _ . It was Old Newthe. * '_ The detective stepped across the bodies of one ,1 or two of the senseless scoundrels, to grasp the ‘ old man’s hand. . “ You’re a good one i” said he. “ If I’ve wronged" you in the past by my suspicions, for- ‘ve me. . “ That’s all right, young feller. But do you think you can trust me a one in these heroin. ‘ ‘ quiries now i” . “ Implicitly.” . u , Good-by, then. Where shall we meet next?" “ At the Rose Hill Mansion-house.” “ Where the murderin’ was did!" A mi; (‘Yes.” ‘ “ When?” “ At midnight, or when you can.” I “3; “ I’ll be there, sir, mebbe with eemetfln' , .35.“ wu’th neportin’. Leave me to look after than :.~:;“ ducks.” " 4" And the old man spurned one of the forms a , ,; the now reviving mmans contemptuome his foot. . V “’Tis well. I shall trust in you.” _ ,g , 1 With that, Mainwaring swiftly glided away ,_ ,2. in the direction of the nearest Elevated station. CHAPTER V. m mums a'r non. . . : So expeditious had been the down-town ex» . plorations in which he had assisted thatMain— I warin was enabled to reach the Calthorpe insi- .! —, § deuce fore ten o’clock. . ‘ { Distinguishing two figures in the shadowol the gatewa whom he recognizedas Luke Jar- ‘ dine and ustine, Issie’s waiting-maid. he gave a signal which speedily brought the forms-to his side . _ it?” the detective inquired, in hfi » “ How goes most guarded voice. 3‘ “ Pmmisingly}: . “Has the nch girl any disclosure to”. make?” , : “ She rsists that she has not.” . g“, a » “ But as she?” a ‘ “ Undoubtedly.” “ Will she make it?” .._. “ In the end—yes. We are frog ." - ' Luke said this with a sligh smile, Mail- waring‘s brow grew stern. v ' t 7 H g " In spite of his profession, his moraliz, especi- 3’ .1: 7-“: ally with regard to women, was relen y ' . rec t. 7., .- “The “r! seems as honestassheiscomely‘r he sari,ng “ You would not trifle with Luke 3%,. ' “ On the contrary, Guy, I love Justine.” “ Ah, but—” . “ And would glad! marry her should a $010 personally ties of complicity in M~ a rs. "Nothing bogus there—that hasthetrue ring ,‘ i y boy. What is u in the mansion?” 1 “ Miss late and rs. Bentincke are awaiting your reappearance, I , They”seem to have no end of confidence in yell- ow. n “ I know that. and it iswell that it shunt. so. What else?” 7 g “The dude dined with Mr. and Mrs. Beubn, a I understh from Clip,and he maybe with. them at. ‘ &‘ And MissLoisi” Thisin a slightly tension g tone. “ sun melancholy, taciturn and self-secluded. 1’ She was moving about the garden a short time. j Y? .4 383Tb“ will do. Yet stay. Are anyof lice detectives about?” a in P0, , r ‘ Notasignof ’em. The ’ve either-glycine- thecaeeindisgust.or are ping up imaginary clews from theoutside ” “That is what we want—a clear field . .1: "" . x\ .- .. » ». . ~ I. \ . A "i 6 ‘Mainw ring,fthe Salamanderf " l Q )‘ ', favors. Don‘t quit your post without seeing me again. Old Newthe may Join you in the in— terim. I have less distrust in him than former— ly, and he is now our accredited confederate. Don’t stare; I will explain all later. Look sharp, Luke.” The detective entered the garden, and moved up the walk with his swift, noiseless step. Abrilliant moonli ht, save for the shadows interspersed by the s rubs and trees, made it al- most as light as day. Midway to the house, he met Carolus Digby ; on his way out. The adventurer was a man of thirty or thirty- ‘ five, whose powerful frame, broad shoulders an: athletic carriage were in ridiculous con- the ut of his blonde whiskers, the parting of his hair, and the rest of it. “ Aw, I sa , Mr. Mainwaring, why can’t we befriends? here’s no big-god nonsense about r me, on know, and I like our manly earnest- ‘ ness in these unfortunate a airs. What do you “ so you know?” 9 had come to a languid pause, squinting- . .- . lass in eye, toy cane under armpit, and with “3 his hand good—naturedly extended. ~‘ “ 1 like an honest man,” was the (lctcctive‘s V. . s rather evasive reply, as he quietly accepted the I T , proffered truce. Q "1 f Mr. Digly remained chatting upon indifferent 7"" to ics, and then passed on his way. ' KIaiiiwaring, remembering that Lois had been seen wandering in the garden, Jealous] watched gure till it ha passe through his retreating ' the ate. . “ ), my fine fellow,” he muttered, between histeeth. “whether you’ve had an secret un- g1:- ‘ deretanding With Miss Issie, Mrs. gentnicke & W 00., or not, the next time you attempt to blow men ,it will be with another explosive than '< blasting powder, or I’m no longer a wide— ’ . awake!” Admitted by a servant, he was passing to an [upper room where he was informed Miss Issie , _ v was awaiting him, when the little girl managed f ' to touch his hand furtively on his way thither. “ Don‘t be gammoued by their fine speeches, sir,” she whis .red. ere flitting back into her “ ey’re mightily uneasy, un’ don‘t , you forget it.” ’ l He Was therefore fully prepared for finding Mrs. Bentincke with Miss Issie as he entered the , room. '1,» They both arose, the former with a keen mum of inquiry from under her heavy brows, - ,, Ionng lady all the more lovely and interest- ; mm a slight pallor that had come upon her (1* to , ' Though her looks had more than once been eloquent, she had not once in speech recurred to liar alleged marriage to the detective, who may be said to have been' ualiy reticent, while keep- .II‘ man power of thinking, on his part. . f ve you any news for us, Mr. Main- . wiring 1" exclaimed Issie. with undisguised r . Edyodng man made a negative gesture, and ' V “Whatl not a sin le clew to the assassin of '~ r father and h unfortunate nurse?” 5 ' waring’s negative sign was repeated, - though a little less decidedly. Ali‘fh escaped the beautiful heiress, and she Wild 1181 y hack into the fuutéuil from , risen. '3 Hrs. Bentincke—who was richly dree-‘ed, and had uietly relinquished much of her housekeep- emeanor for a more assuming mien of late Aw- mitated her example, but more majestically. “It is unfortunate—painfully unfortunate!” ' _ murmured. “ Must the identity of the crimi- ;or criminals forever remain a mystery?” 'fi' 2“! trust not, madam—in fact, I am certain t . Z- 'He had taken a chair with much quietness, s, Hut accompanied the words with such a signifi— ,, cant look that the elder woman started, and «3 then flashed hack the glance after the manner of ' the acceptance of a challenge. , Isle purposely misinterpreted the. interchange. W “ You must not think Momma Bentlncke pre- sumptuous, Mr. Mainwaring,” she gently inter- , " . “She has been so kind, so motherly to me that the change in our social relations has been gradually made in accordance with my ex- ' The detective had known or inferred this .. "much before, but something caused him to re- ' ‘ min an involuntary start on his own part at that instant. "‘r ‘ “It was a decided. perhaps a family resem- ‘c‘v thrice between the two faces before him, as he had to see them in a certain similarity of re and expression, such as had never struck in before. * “In my old vague impression to be made clear flint?” be thought. “ May 1 yet shout Eureka ,3. g,to.my most longed-for clew ’f” ' r He assumed an air of surprise. ' ' v‘,‘ It is but natural, Miss Calthor. ,” said he, 5211:: his most humble manner. “ othorliness % " must dear, indeed, to you in your present po- you, sir- find it so.” And she finned her hand on t e exvhoucekeoper’s. l g “a? A” " .1 ,ili,’ t with his cockney foppishness of Costume, ‘ “ We have scarcely a clew worth mentioning His mind, even his resolution, was in a whirl, in at our agenc ,” he went on, “ and I understan that the po ice detectives have had no better success. But have you no fresh suggestion to make?” He spoke so Softly that Issie’s brilliant eyes . (lee )cncd. l ’hatever the justice of her strange claim upon him, the genuincness of her passion was undeniable. ventured theory, in a somewhat new form, ‘ should be considered a suggestion.” “ Which was, if you please—” “That—I shudder to state it again, but it '1 haunts me irrepressibly, Mr. Mainwaring.” ‘ “ Pray proceed, iss Calthorpe, if equal to it. i 1 Your suggestion— “ Mcrely a. possibility, Mr. Mainwaring." “And that was— ?" ! “That poor Papa Calthortpe might, in a sud- ! den access of insane craving or the laudanum, : have killed the poor nurse in his sleep, in order to obtain the drug ad Iibitum.” She was regarding the effect of her words with scarcely disguised anxiety, as was also, Mrs. Bcntincke. The detective laughed with purposcd con- tem tuousness. ~- “ Ct to be. thought of, as I said before!” was his comment. “ Tho supposition is idiotic on the face of it.” Issie bit her lip and colored. “ But the knife belonged to Mr. Calthorpe," ventured the housekeeper,with affected timidity. “Ay, a Malay crecse, therefore used as a paper-cutter, and always in plain View on the study-table, whencc it would have been most naturally used by the stealthy, entering assassin. No, no! Besides, Mr. Culthorpc had not acquired the opium habit.” “I beg to differ with you, sir. It is of my prrsoniil knowledge that he had acquired it, in secret. " Dr. Jackman says not.” served, sir.” gentleman’s dying Words? They were these: ‘Mm'dercd—mm dared, but in vain! Alater will—a later will I” “ None,” she replied; “ that is, unless my once ‘ id there was the beautiful young creature—no less rich and pOWerful now, there could be little doubt, than superb in her bourgeoning young womanhood and opulent dark beauty—literally at his feet, beseeching to be. taken to his heart! What could he say, think, or do? Was he sure that her alleged lovin treache was a trick—that she was not, as s no claim , his bride, his wife, his Heaven—attested life- mate? On the other hand, was it not his moral con- viction that this magnificent creature was, in net or com licity, a double inurderess? No, no! lOW were it possible? His eyes rested upon her supplicating loveli- ness. Then a mist came over him and he trembled. His pulses seemed to be charged with fiery currents. Bulwarked as he was by his hi h sense of honor and true chivalry, he was yet uman and masculine—desireful, passionate and weak. For an instant the image of his own Lois— still idolized, though cold and scornful now—— was dimmed in the mirror of his heart, and, but for the recurrence of its angel reflection, he might have caught the fascinating petitioner to his breast. But it was only for an instant. “ Miss Calthorpe—Issie—arise! This is un- seemly—unwomanly !” And in spite of her pro- testing tears, he gently but firmly helped her to her feet. A tempest of loving resentment seemed to possess her. “ I am not Miss Calthorpe—I am your wife— your lawful, wedded wife, in spite of your scorn and cruelty!" she sobbed. “ Oh, Guy, have mercy—pity! Listen, Guy, listen!” she cap- . tured one of his hands, and retained it in her , _ ‘ adding in his tormented mind: “ Hick-room confulences are not always unre- , “True; but how account'for the unfortunate ‘ He repeated the words with much more in- ‘ tensity and significance than in Mr. W inker- ton’s private office. But, though Issie averted her face with a slight shudder, enuine or otherwise, their effect was lost upon rs. Bentincke whose reply was, oddly enough, almost in Mr. Winkerton’s exact words. “A d iug man’s ravings, like enough,” said she, cold y, "or of little consideration in any _ event! The detective made a gesture that was meant to be final. “The theory is simply untenable "said he. " short] . “ You have nothing else to 0&er, then i” 'Il‘his n a gentler manner, and addressed to 6. She brightened again, grateful for even that. “ Not on that subJect,” said she. “ But I have received a very flattering communication from Mr. Bullymau, my lawyer, that I would like you to see." And she began to look among some books and oltther articles on a small marquetrie table at her c ow. Mainwaring, ungraciouslv. She colored again, but did not look up. “ Oh, no—not directly—perhaps not. And yet he scouts the idea of there being another will— assures me that the. will must speedily be ad— mitted to probate without dispute—and, and- Mrs. Bentincke, what can have become of that not»? Do you think—” "But that cannot concern me," observa Here there was a crash, accompanied by a , small avalanche from the table. The detective hastened to assist in picking up the books, notwithstanding a gesture of dissent. As he did so, a photograph album, ricth bound, but not of the latest style, came open in his hand, affording him an unlocked-for revela. tion. ‘I You may have carried the note away with r you, my dear,” said the ex-housekee r, with hinge tact than earnestness. “ I shal look it up. And she left them alone together. curiously examining a small cardsbasket of (1(— rom the miniature wrecka e. “ I still can‘t see how the be repeated, absently. There was a sort of sob. He. started up. Issie had thrown herself at his feet, her hands clasped, her whole appearance melting in its agonlzed appeal. CHAPTER VI. BRIDE, TEMPTREss, on MADWOMAN—WBICB? tter concerns me,” for iVe—-wdl you not be good to me?” and complicated for the young man. Mainwaring had returan to his seat, and was ‘ sur rise. i l I s l i i ! soft clasp, “ am I not beautiful enough, tempt- ing enough, clever enough?” ‘ You are all that,” he inoodily admitted, “Perhaps a witch, a second Vivian. a modern Lamia, the very devil himself, for that matter!” “But listen, Guy, listen again! I am more than beautiful, ham rich now, and you are poor. All. all is for_youl In that only do I rejoice.” The words were unfortunate. Least of all had he thought of her wealth, and the reminder of it was not agreeable. He rudd released his hand. “Have one, miss, or madam, whichever it ma be, I beg of you!” Ifilt she caught at the words. “ Ah!" she pant/ed; “ you acknowledge the possibility of it? My claim is no longer abso- utely preposterous in your own mind? Guy, myldarling, my beloved—” e interrupted her with a half-frantic ges- ture. No man hated it “scone” so much as Main- waring, and that Mrs. Bentincke had purposely left them alone together to contrive this one did not add to his complacency. bl‘lgiss Calthorpklssie—let us be sane—reason- a e. “ Ah! with all my heart. But I do so love You, Guy! I cannot, will not give on up. My ove isa ceaseless torrent that rus es forth to on. The love of such a girl as that other Lois is a miserable driblet in comparison, even were it for on, which it is not, she having alread yield in part to her parents‘ insistnnce regar ~ ing the suit of that scoundrel adventurer, Di by. Guyndo not render me desperate. Only loci at " me!" She was the picture of emotional, pleading lowliness, the tears still misting her glorious eyes, staining her divine cheeks, her JeWeled flngera extended raspingly toward him, like the talons of a birdg. . He took her at her word. He did look at her, but with folded arms, and an enforced calmness t! at frightened her. “ You walk of that man, Digby.” said he, slowly. “ ’ou also know him, then?” “Know him? Yes, by sight, and to despise him i" “ No more than that?” “Surely no more, Gu ." He shrugged his shou rlers. “ But well enough to treasure his picture in your album—an old picture, at that.” But the shot failed of its mark. “ Album 2” she repeated, in a perfectly natural “1 have no album.” e pointed to the one into which he had guisite workmanship, which he had retained glanced. “ Ah. it is Momma hentincke’s. I remember" now that she brought it here to-day. though I had no curiosity to examine it. “ And she hastily picked up the album, running through its tablet-like leaves. “80! it is here. she must have known him in times past, though I would not have suspected it.” The naturalness of her manner was beyond criticism. This was even enhanced by a. mingli of wom- an-like exultation in her voice—her oy at the “ On, Guy—Guy, my husband! will you not jeanlzusy which his charge had implied. in his turn, vouohsafed toexamine the e situation was inconceivably distressing' photd more attentiVely. g, It was not a flattering one. -—~«—.—.,.M.. ‘1 ~ i I. <....., .....A.. ,. gnu...» . ~‘1o—nmh ,1 s. new“ ‘._W‘ '033“ . ' , .k- I 'w’ r“.;§! 1-) .b' .' '. i, a» . . n l .rz‘tr“ L / Mainw 71. 1‘ :. It represented its subject as a much youn r and more handsome man than at present,’an in a rougher, manlier dress, but with a coarser and more unpleasant expression. The picture, one mi ht have said. of a matured Bowery tough, in his oliday clothes, and with a distinctly criminal suggestion. “ You believe me, I suppose?” she simply asked, as the album was restored to the table. “ I do believe you.” She was resuming her passionate appeals when be checked her. “ lssie, it is not seenily,” said he, sternly, but not unkindly. “ It is a reversal of the more con- ventional order of things.” She bowed her head, her exquisitely rounded arms falling listlessly. She was in full dress, and they were bare from the shoulder. “ It is true,” she murmured, dejectedly. “ It is the man, not the woman, who has the right to urge a suit.” There was a dreary bitterness in her tone. “ We may hunger, thirst and die for it, but we may not urge our love.” She was ravishing in her humility and sor- row. He underwent another spasm of forgetfulness and temptation. He was tempted to accept the credible as the inevitable, and to snatch her to his heart. But it was a fascination of the senses, not of the soul, and it was mastered. He gravely conducted her to a chair, and seat- ed himself before her. “ lssie let us be reasonable, let us be dispas— sionate.’ She flashed up a look, then bowed submis- sively. He went on: “ I cannot admit your claim, and yet I freely acknowledge that I cannot wholly deny it. Don’t speak, please; let me talk for the resent. My marriage was so strange, so unusu , that I must await some word from the clergyman who performed the ceremony and his wife who wit~ nessed it. It may be long coming, for I learn that they quitted Florida almost immediately for a rovrng tour among the West India islands. “ But even their testimony may not illuminate my uncertainty—l acknowledge that. “ The bride’s face was not seen, even her re- sponses were so low as not to be individualized. “ There is that, and more than that, in favor of your str claim; for even the remaining witness, my f end, Luke Jardine, declares him- self unable to disprove it. “ There are many things to support the claim you make, that you successfully practiced the deception in marrying me without my knowledge. There is one thin in ubitably against it.” “ What is that%‘ She kept her head bowed, her voice being scarcely audible. ‘ “ It this, Issie,” he answered. “ It is my in- stinctive feeling, my absolute moral conviction, of its untruth.’ She caught her breath, clasping her hands to gather, as if in sheer desperation. “ But what of Lois?" she moaned. “ I acknowled to you that she remains obdu- rate in her denia that she figured with me in the ceremony. In fact, I seem to have so outraged her feelings that she has not spoken to me since my first attempt at claiming her as my bride. She seems to regard me as insane. So, there is also that much in favor of what on claim.” A low sob came from the level; bowed figure. “ Ohl wh is it not eve thing in my favor, Guy? I o y claim what is the truth. Why cannot you acknowledge the inevitable?” His voice and manner hardened. “Because I am not convinced. But there is something else.” “ What is it?” “ Admitting, for the moment, the truth of your claim, do you think it'honorable, do you imagne it decent, to hold me to it!” “ h, Guy, I loved and love you so!” “ That has nothing to do with it. Admitting that you surreptitiously took the place of an- other woman—the only woma I can ever love ”— (she shuddered, her ham 8 clinching)— “at the altar—that (you foisted yourself upon me by the foulest an wildest piece of deception ever heard of in the history of feminine intrigue -—is it right or decent that you should rsist in holding me to the treachery- welded tie? That is my question." A sort of wail escaped her. “ Oh, Guyl don’t be so bani, so relentless.” “M question, if you please.” “I oved you so!” i; Worrlian, my question!” or so 9 answer, the raised her face ineffable ing}: tear-sgizinedhloveliuess. ’ en, wi a a f~inarticulate or she fast- ened herself upon his breast. y, - There was no danger of Mainwarlng being further fascmated -_at least, not just then. He arose, coolly disengaging himself from the straining arms, and returning her to the seat she had quitted. ‘ “ I do you the credit of believing that you are either out of your senses, or enacting a part ” said he, coldly. “One reflection alone should have deterred you in this sort of role—at least one would think so.” She had regained her sense of resentment at his unimpressiblencss, if not her composure. “ I plead guilty to your first charge—that my passion may have blinded me,” she murmured, constrainedly. “ But to what else do you refer?" His answer was almost brutal in its abrupt- ness. “ To your adoptive father’s death, and its at- tendant suspicions.” Somethin r in his tone, manner and look struck her Ii 1% an electric shock. Deadly )alc, she slowly arose, as did he also. “Good ‘od!” she gasped: “you don’t mean, you can‘t mean, to say that suspicion connects me with th0se murders?” Her agitation was no less enuine than piti- able; but to a certain point ie resolved to be merciless. “ So, you speak of both deaths as murders at last?” he sneercd. “ Our opium-craving theory is forgotten?” “ Perhaps so—that is—-—” here she broke down. “ Great God! I have loved, I still worship, this man, and he rewards me by an accusation of__” She buried her face in her hands. He was about to say. "I have not accused you directly,” but steeled his heart, and main- tained silence. She suddenly grew frightfully calm. “Let me know the worst. Am I suspected of com ilicity ?" “ 'ou have gained immensely by Mr. Cal- tliorpe’s death; that is, you will have gained if_” She interrupted him with a passionate ges- ture. “ My question, if you please!” “ I sha n’t answer you directly. But it stands to reason that suspicion should touch both the housekeeper and yourself—her even more than you—and—” “ My question, sir! Or I shall alter it some- what now. I hi you suspect me z’” His answer came so tardily as to rob it of any consolatory element. “ N o, I don’t,” said he, doggedly. “ But I wouldn't admit as much for that other one.” d Pallid to ghostliness, she pointed to the 001'. “ Go sir! I have wasted my love like water upon esert sands. I fear that you are not worthy of it.” But her heart went out to him wildly, even as he turned, with a cold bow, and quitted the room. His air, his mien, so much above his station, his assured carriage, his gliding step—there was not a tittle of his personality that did not re- tain its clinging hold upon her soul and her imagination. He had hardly disap through the half- open door before she eaped after him like a pantheress. A tall figure-the fl re of Mrs. Bentincke— glittering knife in and, was in the act of springing after the retreating detective, with remorseless fury in her aspect. “ Woman —minionl what would you! Quick give up the weapon! How dare you?” The words were hissed out, it was Issie who interposed, and she clutched the hostile arm and knife with fierce energy. “ Stop me notl" hoarsely whispered the other, still intent upon her purpose. ‘ I overheard— he suspects too much—there is but one recourse. Ha!” doggedly, as the weapon was finally wrested from her hand: “ have your way2 then, mai lot. 1 up ,” with a sneer, ‘ on, wou d stand between him and death’s silence, even at the cost of your own safetyf” “ Yes, I would.” The housekeeper (gave her a withering look of mingled scorn an reproach, and then swept away up the dim passage. CHAPTER VII. THE sournsmn GARDEN. As for Mainwaring, absorbed in the strange interview that had just passed, and unconscious of the danger he had escaped, he was proceeding rapidly to the gate when a faint, half-stifled cry from the south~side garden reached him. It flashed upon him that has might still be “mooning” there, as Jardine had expressed it. There was no need of a repetition of the cr tocause him tospeed in its direction with his noiseless step. The moonlight was still brilliant. Lois was struggling in the grasp of two ruf- flanly-lookin men under the trees, in the vicin- ity of the litt e summer-house. To flit like an avenging shadow to her rescue, fell her assailants by a couple of sledge-hammer blows, the more effective from their unexpect- edness, and catch the girl’s half-fainting form in his strong arms. was the work of an instant. She clung to him affrightedly, but when the were both more com , they observed. mac to their astonishment, that the fallen men had mysteriously disappeared. “ This is very extraordinary!" exclaimed the . v ml": , . , . ,m - , ‘ -.., .- ' y: I , ‘. ring, the Salamander. i 7 I detective. “ When were you first assailed! “’liere did they make their appearance from?” She had disengaged herself from his embrace, and was standing perfectly composed now, save that there was a bright, perhaps somewhat 11L sentful color in heir i‘air cheeks. “ I scarcely know,” was her indifferent answer. “ Perhaps from the suninier-house—it all hap- ned so unexpectedly! Thank you, none the ess, for your timely aid.” “ Oh, don’t mention it.” Then, not a little embarrassed himself, he ste ped to the door of the summer-house, and l )ol-ied into the comparatively dark interior, but made out that it was empty. “ There may be a secret passage,” said h with an effort. “ I was told, come to think 0 it, of an excavation from the adjoining lot hav- ing been ignorantly extended under the arden wall. Sha’n’t I see you safe back to the once? It is perhaps, later than you imagine.” “ am aware of the hour, thank you, but I can go back alone.” Still there was a furtive desolatenessin her look, and the next moment he was at her feet. “ Do you forget how you once loved me!” he blurted. “ Your continued coldness breaks my heart, Lois! Let us exchange explanations—a mere breath of mutual confidence may be suf- ficient.” He tried to take her hand, but she would not permit. “ I must not listen to you,” she faltered. “Such words to me from another woman’s hus- band are shameful!” He sprung once more erect. “ IVhat': that ridiculous fiction? made even you believe it, then?” “ She is your wife.” “ It is not true. But has she also informed you of the deception by which she claims to have become my wife!” “ I have learned of it.” “ And you believe it?" . “ I am forced to. Since it is evident that some one was married to you while personating me, her claim is scarcely to be denied.” “ And you Would still respect the unwomanly rpetrator of such a deception as she claims to ave carried out!” “ I would not. Still she. urges her overmas- tering love for you as her motive.” Mainw _ f laughed wildly. “ Tmt%r love!” He snapped his fingers Issie has contemp y. “ Were my 10ve and your , love nothi" , that she should treacherous] y sup- plant them with her undesired passion? Listen to me calm] , Lois." He pou marriage in the minutest do She listened with a startled look. “ Now tell me, Lois,” said he, with impressive solemnity, in conclusion, “ or can. you tell me that you were not the bride of that ceremony!” “I can and do tell you so most earnstly,” she replied. “ And yet—” “ Go on, Lois. And et—” - “And yet inspirit at your side, I dreamed it so vivid] , in every particular just as you describe it, ing home." ‘ You dreamed it?” “ Yes. Over-wrought and exhausted, I thmw 1" myself on in bed Without undressing, and was at once soun asleep. But I dreamed out every- thi , just as you have related. Indeed, co vivi , so realistic was my dream that when I seemtohavebeen. more, forth the entire $17 of the strange ‘ 1;“ A awoke I could at first scarcely realize that the ‘i ring wa;s not on my finger, the certificate in my m.’ A light seemed to break in upon him. “ You must have been there in reality—per. ha in a species of trance—but none the lea in l “ Lois, it is you Imarried~ reall‘ity,” he cried. you are my wife.” “ This is madness!” She recoiled in alarm, but his ardor and on , thusiasm were beyond control. ' ‘-‘v “ You are my wife, before God and man!” must and will have yon Dan H You .7 “ exclaimed. “ I such!" “ Stop, sir! Do not dare to touch me! are Issie Caltborpe’s husband; and if you follow. .‘ me it will be at your peril 1” She disap and he s ows that had swallowed up her perfect form. ’ At that moment several men stole out of the 7 summer-house, and suddenly hurled themde upon him from behind. He was overpowered befgiée being thorougth aware of what had hap “ Be nick!” grOWl ' htl (familiar tothe detective’s cars. a voice that seemed‘ . “Into the be 6 with him, and then oneof you sign! '~‘ and , for the old woman.” He was d into the summer thence down a jagged hole, which his hasty ax- amination had not taken cognizance of inthc dark, into the subterranean excavation ands-v “III 6{signed and be rid, h kept m are n e was . p , guard i’iiItil one of the men who had been cut, away came back with a lantern,and com-,9; panied by a cloaked female ~ The prisonbr had made sure that his audio-1” _ ared m the direction or the ' » ' like a statue looking into the shad: 1. 8 p” s ‘ I Mainwaring, the Salamander. rious visitant would prove to be Mrs. Ben- tincke. , But when his gag and the woman‘s vail were simultaneously removed, he uttered an exclama- tion of supreme amazement. CHAPTER VIII. A WOMAN’S FOLLY. THE prisoner’s visitant was Mrs. Reuben Cal— thorpe, Lois’s mother. , She was a vain, frivolous and care-worn wo- man of middle age, and rather enjoyed the effect she had prodch upon the detective. Then she sighed, shivered, and cast a thor- oughly disgusted look upon her rough-hewn and uncouth surroundings. the men—all of whom were masked—remaining in the mean time some- what in the background in perfect silence. They were powerful, athletic fellows, eight in number. “ So, Mr. Detective,” said the lady at last, in a weak and shrill, but what was meant to be a very impressive voice, “ I suppose you are at a loss to know why I have procured your capture in-this ignominious fashion. ” Much to her dissatisfaction, the detective burst into an amused and hearty laugh, which, but for his bonds, would have been of the side- splitting variety. “ Your ladyship mistakes,” he managed to sa , with mock seriousness. “ No mystery in mine, if you please. Your ladyship’s governing motive in this little civility is as plain as—as the gretty little youthful nose on your damask face. hall I tell your ladyshi what it is?” She glared at him, ant then smiled assenting- - .“ Well. Iyour ladyship has argued with our- self somet ing after th s fashion; All that etec- i ' tive’s professional work about the mansion- househereis hy ritical pretense. He is still intent on carrying off my daughter, notwith- Z, I; , ttanding that he is already married to Issie Cal- thorpe, and for all that he knows we have re- served her hand for the rich and high- laced Mr. Carolus Digb . How do I know althis? use Mrs. Ben incke tells me so, and Mrs. Bentlncke is a wise and worthy woman. Ergo, our daughter is in danger, and Mr. Detective must he squelched in short order. I must hire some needy and unscrupulous rufiians to carry ' the impudent fellow off. A few days of enforced ; seclusion, or perhaps maltreatm . illdoubt- leucool his blood and make him , e at my may; power. Am I not right so your lady- Calthorpe was coloring through her rouge in a decidedly corroborative way. . "‘Ah I see. We will proceed. The good in Jim fientincke examines and a roves your 1» ladyship’s Machiavellian lan. an it is adopted. -Her bravoeearehired an posted. The ambus- code is in readiness. But detectives are ro- . verbially wide-awake. Howtoallure him into ., _,. the toils. Our daughter herself shall be made ' theunconscious instrument. Her habit of wan- ” ‘ dating in the south-side garden until late isto be 2 Thedeteotive isexpected at the man- ila-house. His exit, duly si naled, is the si - a Mahofora sham seizureo the young y ‘ 11mm the summer-house. But one cry is a- ,- lowed to escape her, and it is enough. He , naturally rushes to her rescue, and at est, just ‘O'I natural] into the toils. The youn lady , s noting of it, but what woul you? ,5, ofla! as the Frenchmen say. The snake is g'lcotched, the detective helpless, your ladyship avenged. How is that?” ' Mrs. Calthorpe surveyed him with starting _ eyes. ' ' “ Are you a man-witch, or the devil?" she ex- .. claimed. “However, him away, you pansn. My darling daughter must be protected , .g’ at any cost.” g: r ' But, unfortunately for the detective’s captors, they forgot to gag him afresh and, as the ,, Titers carrying him out through the tunnels a; ., Swingupon the vacant lot. he suddenly sound- is‘ a rll whistle with his parsed lips that guild have discounted a first-class locomotive distress. ‘ Their leader uttered a curse, and began to re- placething but it wastoola . V Instanty the party were fu ously attacked by two men. armed with stout sticks, who seemed to s ng from nowhere in particular, ..and before hey could recover from their sur- theii released captive was also on his feet, a , is electric pugilisrn into full play. ., The rumans were speedily routed, most of them With sore heads, the lad having effected .' “handles pearance, with a 1i 0 screech, at the r, outseto the afiray. “ How is it with you Guy?" anxiously ex- claimed Jardine, who had led the rescue. ‘ ’ “ Oh, I’m all right!” said Mainwaring. And he fell into a fresh fit of laughter, while 0):! Newthe, who had ably seconded the rescue, scorned to regard him wit fatherly solicitude. » They were still amid the confines of the outer excavation, and lost no time in gettin ., highsrnfronnd, when the detective rela "" lpartlc are of his adventure. l.“The.old lady must bea foo,"commented 1 ? frei- a an of that, my boy—in her way.” ll ‘3'; “ What do you suppose she meant to have those cha s do with on?” “ The Bord only news, and he won’t tell. Perhaps, to shut me up in a dark room, like a naughty boy, till I should promise more circum- Spection in my visits hereabouts. Have you an thing further to offer?” ‘ Not yet. It is very late, but I had just separated from the little Justine and been joined by Old Newthe here, when your signal sounded.” The Gliding Detective grasped the old man by the hand. “ You’re a trump card, Mr. Newthe,” said he, heartily, “ and l’m once more in your debt.” “No you ain’t sir,” was the gruff response. “ I’m in yours, for there‘s nothing I relish more than a ding-(long argyment on occasion, and I ain’t no Irishman, nuther.” “ What have you to report?” “ I‘ve found your man, sir.” “ What! the original Grimsby ?” “ True for you, sir.” “ Explain, if you please.” “ He’s keepin’ a sailor’s boardin’-house, not far from the den where we had the fu‘st scrim- mage.” ' “ Excellent! to him i” “ Yes: an’ thinks we’re as good friends as ever. Ha, ha, ha!” the old man gave a fiendish chuckle, his hand tightening on his heavy stick. “ Well, let him keep on thinkin’ so, at least for the present.” A momentary suspicion of Old Newthe’s sin- cerity crossed the detective’s mind. “ You are Grimsby‘s enemy?" “ Ay,, sir; to the death—though he don’t sus- t it. “ But how happens it on have not looked up his whereabouts ere this‘iz’ “ Because, sir upto a fortnight ago his where- abouts was now ere." U How?” “ He’s recently come back from abroad, an’ bought out the Mariner’s Rest, as his crib is called.” “Ohol And Mrs. Grimsbyi What of her?” “Old Tom purtends to know nothin’ about the old woman, or about the young ’un, either, far that matter.” “80. And they most likely intend he shall remain in i orance," said the detective, half to himself. “ at that is to be seen.” Both J ardine and Old Newthe looked at him in surprise. “ Might we be so bold, sir," Ventured the old man, a little timidly, “ fur to ax you what you mean?” “ I so pose so.” replied Mainwaring, thou ht- fully, “ for it will be an open affair before ong —it can’t help being. I think.” “ I understand now, though I had partly for- gotten,” said J ardine. “ MiSS lie, the Cal- ho heiress, is old Grimsby’s daughter.” “ dd that Mrs. Bentincke, the housekeeper. is her mother and old Grimsby’s wife, and you’ve t the thing better.” Both is hearers manifested no little surprise at this information, which, as the reader must have seen, had but recently been hit upon by Mainwaring himself. “ The next thing to make sure of.” said the latter, after a pause “ is whether old Grimsby is reall ignorant of their present circumstances or who .her they have all been acting in concert from the outset.“ “ Yes,” observed Jardine. “ Our clew to the double-assassin may lie in the determination of that very question. ’ “ I thought, sir,” said Old Newthe, “ as how you’d want to size up old Tom on your own ac- count.” “ So I shall, as a matter of course, was Main- warin ’3 re 1 . g {now’d it. I’ve ’ranged far you to And you made yourself known “Aha! meet him to-morrer night, sir.” “ Good! How did you manage it, without ex- citin his suspicions? “ old him he might get wind of Cracksman Charle through you.” “ W o is Cracksman Charley?” “ Old Tom’s son blzdhis first wife, sir: an’ con- sekently the young dy‘e half.brother, ‘cordin’ to what you sav.’ The G iding Detective indulged in a brief but troubled reverie. He believed that Issie had wronged him doe - iy perhaps irretrievably, and she might even criminal: but, recallin the girl‘s magnificent beauty and intellectua cleverness, it was not without compunctions that he would see her connected with vulgar wretches and base asso- ciations. “ All right,” said he, at last. “ You shall in- struct me further in the role to be carried out Mr. Newthe. We must now obtain sleep an rest,ifweareto be good for anything in the future." , The trio accordingly separated. CHAPTER IX. ran RAILROAD cur. Tim detective‘s way led him eastward, and a town clock struck two in the morning, as he thoughtfully set foot on the 124th street bridge .I \ _‘ VT ‘ ‘ _ ,4‘ .i. I across the dee Fourth Avenue Railroad cut, with which t e residents of Harlem are so familiar. He was still absorbed with a sentiment of pity for the exposure he necessarily had in view, for the beautiful heirem of the great Cal- thorpe estate, as the considered herself, when another thought struck him yet more forcibly. that if her story were true, and she were really his wife? Would not the ruthless dashing her down to the base level from which she had had her rise, be doubly ignoble and cowardly then, as pro- ceeding from his act? Even if she should prove unworthy—perhaps criminal—would it not be the man's part to rather stand by her, under those circumstances, instead of forcing her down, down, as he contem— plated? His thoughts were in a whirl, but only for an instant. He was rudely aroused from his reverie, first by the piercing whistle of an approaching train, and then b a sharp blow that sent him stagger- ing along t 6 bridge. iwo men had suddenly sprung upon him from behind an abutment. A second blow felled him before he could re- cover from the first. “ Hu up!” hoarsely muttered one of the scoundre s. “ Time’s short!” In another moment the detective’s pockets were turned inside out, and he was tossed over the rail, directly in the path of the on-coming train. The last blow had only partially stunned him, and his fall had been somewhat broken by his clothing catching on a projection in the de- scent. But, nevertheless, his body lay directly across the rails, the walls of the cut rising perpendicu- larly on either side. “ He’ll do now!” exclaimed a voice, from the bridge. “ The wheels will grind him up in an- other minute, and his—detective work will ’ve the ladies at the big house no further tron le. Come along!” Then there was a scampering of flying feet, and silence reigned, save for the increasing rear and rumble of the coming train. The detective had heard as one in a night- mare. He was on the down track. and he could see the headlight of the monster that was thunder- in down upon him from the north. He made a desperate effort to roll to one side, but was incapable of movement. He tried to call for help, but the words seemed in die in his throat. On thundered the train! . It had crossed the river bridge, it was already in the cut, in another minute he would be l and to pieces, or mangled beyond recogni- on. He strove to close his eyes, to shut out the ad- vancing specter, to await the shock in darkness, but even that was denied him. His e es remained staring, he was fascinated by the error of it. There was a last piercing whistle. It was like a demoniac chorus, the uinteseenne of all the aggregated screams of in one in- conceivable screech. The headlight was now like a blazing moun- tain of stupendous brilliancy. The train was upon him. But at the critical instant he was torn out of its path by a powerful hand, the monster thun~ dered b , bereft of its prey, and he was saved. Who d so opportuner snatched him from destruction. ‘ He felt his strength returning felt even that he had not been seriously injured b his tumble from the bridge, but he was still in is unknown preserver’s grasp, and was bein borne up some rude steps in the side of the on as if he were no more in that mighty grasp than a man of straw. But the mystery was soon over. No sooner had they emerged into the moon- light of the upper air than he was laced on his feet with an clamation of astoni meat. “ Heavens! it’s Mr. Mainwarlng, or I‘m a duffer, you know.” The detective was no less amazed. His preserver stood revealed in the person of his would-be rival, Mr. Carolus Digby. “You mustbe as stron as an ex!” wasall Mainwarin could say at rst. Carolus s rugged his powerful shudders, and then his splendi frame, seeming so out of place in the ultra-dudishness of its Londcm costuming, shook with his hearty laugh. “ I don’t brag mm: on my muscle, you know,” said he. “ But, to tell the truth, I am yet to see the man that I am afraid of. Are you hurt much i" “ Nothing to speak of, or I’m mistaken.” And the detective shook himself, after which he be- gan brushing himself off, adding: “ I have to thank you, sir, for 'saving m life. I never dreamed,” this a little bitterly. ‘ that you would place me under such an obligation.” “ No obligation at all—not worth mentioning, you know. I saw you chuckled over the rail, and the rnfilans made tracks as I hurried up to I ' ,. . " , « .i., . .7 (u. ,V’ n, . . .. a f: \ ‘; .__.;; m ‘L;-‘—....' '~;~—-‘rl~‘4— R7. T—y»~.~ymw_z~v...) . “N < ‘ “r fiamwaring, the Salamander. 9 the rescue. Obligation be blowed! Hope ou’ll be all ri ht to-morrow. Good-night, Mr. ain- waring. But the detective had placed his hand on his arm. “ Hold on!” said he. “ I can’t understand you, Mr. Digby." The other was not so surprised as might have been ex ted. “ Why not?” he asked. “ Can’t you guess why I am somewhat mysti- fied concerning you 9” “Perhaps so, my boy; but you’ve a tongue of your own, you know.” “ \Vell, then, you’ve just saved my life, at the risk of your own. and yet I am sure you headed j that masked gang, under foolish Mrs. Calthorpe’s ' orders, that ragng me into the hole under the summer-house, an hour ago.” Carolus hesitated, as if about to deny the , charge, and then, with an off-hand gesture, burst afresh into his hearty laugh “I acknowledge the corn,” he admitted. “ But the devil, man, what would you? It was a .t scheme with the dear lady, and, as I’m stl 1 off color with the dau htcr, I had to please the mamma, you know. esidcs, I was pretty sure that no real harm was intended you. Shake!” He extended his open hand so engagineg that ’ Mainwaring could not choose but accept it, though he did so with some mental reserva- tion. “You’re an odd fellow,” said he. “ You must have deserted your con freres early, or my friends would scarcely have effected my deliverance so easily.” “ Faith, you may sa that, my boy. Ha, ha, ha! I had my hands ull with the old lady, who went off into a first-class, bang-up faint at the outset, you know.” “ {our companions—" “ 'cre merely rough Working men, at a do]- lai‘ a head, and won over by the novelty and ro- mance of the thing. Now don’t let that keep sticking in your crop, my boy. Good—night, once more! And, Lois or no Lois, I hope we may be hunky friends in the future, you know.” And he airin took himself off, this time with- out hindrance, and taking a westerly direction. The detective had been robbed of his watch and a small amount of money, all he had upon i his person, by the ruflians on the bridge. But this did not trouble him half so much as the mystery of the affair, for he felt morally certain that robbery had only been a secondary object of the attack, while there Were also strange contradictions in the character so unexpectedly developed by Carolus Digby, and he was full of pondering reflections on his way to his own lodg- ings. It was so late on the following day when Mainwaring had finished certain routine duties at the agency, besides making his report to Mr. Winkerton, that it was then nearly time to think of his trip with Old Ncwthe among the slums of the Fourth Ward. “ Come and take supper at my restaurant with me, Mr. Newthe,” said he, “and we’ll talk over the business of the evening before setting out n on it.” “ ‘ ith all my heart, sir,” said the old man, gratefully. “ And I may have something to say to you on another subject of interest.” “ You’re making quite a team of it," Mr. Winkerton called out to them, as they were quitting the offices. “ But be careful!” He accompanied the words by a smiling wink at the Gliding Detective, as much as to say: “ Here’s consistency for you! What has be- come of our inveterate distrust of old Newthe?” The detective philosophically accepted the chafling without. reply. “What were you intending speakin about, Mr. Newthe?” he asked, when they ha begun to discuss their repast. “ That ’erc last adventure of yourn, sir, an’ the odd way you was snapped out of it by that howlin’ svvell, Digby.” “ It was odd, wasn’t it?” “ Yes, sir; and I thought you might want to know all about the cuss.” “ \Vo must know more about him when we haw; more time.” ‘ know ever thin air (1 .” “You?” y g ea y “From A to Gizzard, as the schoolboys say.” “ You sur rise me. How was that?” Mr. Newt e coughed a little apologetically. “ sometimes do a little shadowin’ fur private parties,” said he, “ ’thout the boss bein’ any the wiser.” “ I’ll keep your secret. Well?” “ Some time ago I was hired on the sly by a certain gent to foller up Mr. Digby." “ Who hired you?” “ Mr. Reuben Calthorpe.” “ Ohol I begin to understand. Birds of a feather, eh i”_ “Jess sonsm Both on ’em amblers, an’ the 01d ’un tryin’ to. make sure 0% the young ’un’s solid resources. in his darter’s interest. That’s it in a nutshell.” “ I understand.” A little shortly. “ Well, what did {on find out about Digby l” “ Thet e’s a howlin’ swell on mighty small capital—without a dollar but what he fakes at , faro, poker and roulette.” E “ But I have suspected this much before.” ’ “ Mr. Calthorpe knows it now, but he still doesn’t object to the swell fur a son-inelaw.” “ That is mysterious, certainly.” “Ain’t it?” “ And yet Mi'. Calthorpe has the instincts and breeding of a gentleman. Why doesn’t he object?” “ Fur two reasons.” “ And those are—f” “ Fu’st, because he owes Digby two thousand dollars, borrowed money.” it S0 1” “ Next, Digby holds, in part payment of debt, 8. check for half the amount, given him by Mr. Reuben Calthorpe." “ \Vhat of that?” Old Newthe chuckled. “ The signature to the check is not Mr. Reu- ben’s, but Mr. Peregrine Calthorpe’s, and it’s a forgery.” The detective was astonished. “ This is, indeed, worth knowing, Newthe!” he exclaimed. “ It sufficienth explains Digby’s ‘ rascally poWer over poor Miss Lois’s ex-gam- i blin r father.” I “ es, sir.” “Mr. Reuben Calthorpe must be rescued from the scoundrel’s clutches, if merely for his daugh- ter’s sake.” “Yes, sir. sir.” I was sure you would say so, CHAPTER X. AMONG THE SLUMS. AT this juncture they were joined by Luke - Jardine. 4 He came by appointment. with his report as to Iaffairs at Rose Hill, chiefly obtained through the observation of Justine Deschappclles. “Something unusual is in the wind at the. great house. Miss Lois and Miss [ssie have had their heads together the better part of the day—— a sufficiently unusual circumstance in itself. costumes in each other’s company. Even Jus— tine did not as yet know what it all meant; but she was bent on finding out at the earliest pos- sible moment.” Such was the substance of the young man’s re )ort. ainwaring reflected. He knew that there had been a close intimacy bethen the young women in earlier days, dur— ing which they had heated considerably together in the vicinity of the Calthorpe country mansion on the Hudson, and acquired no little skill in the pastime. But that was all, and he could not for his life hit upon the significance of this renewal of the intimacy, as reportegl by his coadjutor. He consulted his watch—a substitute for the one of which he had been robbed, for he had several cheap ones at his lodgings. “ Eivht o’clock,” said he. “ Newthe and I must going. The best thing you can do, Luke, is to return to your post, and govern your- self according to circumstances. If all goes well, we shall rejoin you between now and mid— night.” The detective and Old Newthe lost no more time in setting out for down-t0wn. About to disembark from the Elevated train at Franklin Square station, a big man, his coun- tenance concealed by a slouched hat, blocked the way until the. last moment, so much so that Mainwarin ventured to remonstrate, after barely haying made his exit from the moving car at the extreme end of the station latform. The response was an unexpected b 0w in the chest that sent him flying overboard. Old Newthe, who had already alighted, uttered an exclamation of horror, and made a rush toward the per trator of the outrage, but the latter had been carried on. He then looked frantically into the abyss, calling loudly upon the detective’s name, though hardly doubting that he had been dashed , to pieces on the stones below, the station latform being at that point fully sixty feet a ve the street. “ I’m all right,” sung out the Well-kn0wn voice from below. “ though it isn’t that rascal’s fault that I’m telling you of it. Wait for me in the street.” Mainwaring was then distinguished ban ing with one arm over a telephone wire, upon w ich he had providentiall y caught in his headlong descent, and the old man lost no time in hurrying down to the street. By dexterously working himself along the wire, and thence down a telegraph pole, the de- tective was soon standing at his side. He was somewhat breathless, but unscathed. “ Did you catch a glimpse, of the villain’s face?” he asked. “ I did, sir,” was the response. “ Whose was it?” “ Mr. Carolus Digby’s.” Mainwaring was mystified. “ Are you sure?” “ I’d swear to it.” They have also been looking over their boating , “ But why should he, of all men, try to take my life to—night, after risking his own to save it last night?" “ It’s a puzzle, sir. Perhaps last night he saved you unintentionally, taking you for a stranger." “ Perhaps so. \Ve shall see. At all events, his attempt of to-night lessens the obligation l was under to him.” “ Ha! Consider it wiped out, sir.” “ We shall see.” They resumed their quest. It was only when the detective stood with his conductor before the vile-looking, vicesuggest— ing sailors’ haunt near the river front, where he expected to meet the disre] utahle progeniior of Issic Calthorpe, that he began to seriously think over what he would have to say to him. True. the dcbasing family connection might have been kept up from the first. and in that way have an important bearing on ihetragedies at Rose Hill. But how did he know that? And. apart from it, what business of his was the mere mainte- nance of such relationships, howsoever undesir- able from a general point of view. He was somewhat relieved of his embarrass- ment by his companion. They had traversed the wretched taproom, pushed their way among its whisk -soaked or sinister frequentch, and were con routing the landlord in his little private den opening upon an offensive alleyway at the rear. “Tom, old boy, this is my oung missionary friend, Mr. Mainwaring, as was a-tellin’ you of.” Such was Old Newthe’s tactful introduction of our detective. The latter took up the cue at once. assuming a. grave, ministerial air, and bowing sancti- inoniously. “ A fresh parson, eh ?” sneered the landlord of the Mariner’s Rest, but rather gOod-naturedly withal. “You’re Welcome, though — eve — body, black, blue an’ white, is welcome to o (1 Tom Grimsbv, who ain't afeard of no man. “'bat shall it be, your riverance? An’ ye kin go on with your catechisin’ arter you’ve wet your tootin’-pipe.” Mainwaring made a negative gesture, and seated himself at the little table, laden with glasses and greasy playing cards, at which the old man was receiving his visitors, with a filthy open necount book before him. “ It is outside of my calling to partake of your invitation, Mr. Grimsbjg,” said the. detec- tive, sanctimoniously. “ But it would please me if you and my good friend here would deign to drink something harmless at my ex ense.” “ Ha, ha, ha!” The landlord of the Jariner’s Rest shook with lau htcr, while reaching for a. black bottle, and lling two glasses, one of which lie shoved toward Old Newtbc, vsho had’ also seated himself. “ Harmless is good, harm— less is! It‘s the best of bug—juice, though, an‘ your offerin’ to pay for it is a new wrinkle fur a visitin’ miSSionary. Here‘s to all the hair off the top of your head, sir, an’ never say die!” He was a grossly fat, greasy old ruflian, with a heavy hand and a crime—written face. Mainwaring found it difficult to associate him with Issie’s or even Mrs. Bentincke’s past fami- ly history, but was none the less resolved to make the most of the opportunity. “ Thank you, sir,” said he, assuming a smil- ing but uneasy air. “I don’t object to drink— ing, if not carried to excess.” “ Haugh! But that’s better than what some on you preach.” “ I mean it. my dear sir, indeed I do. If your vocation is spirituous and mine spiritual, that is no reason why we should quarrel.” The landlord’s mood seemed to suddenly chan . He rought his heavy hand down on the table in a manner that made the glasses jum . “ I should say not!” he growled. “ at what are you arter, anyway, young feller? I kin answer all your fool in uiries in advance.” “ Not uite all, I’m alfraid.” “ Yes, kin. There’s no women on my prem- ises, thievin’ ain’t allowed, men are treated like men—that is, they ain’t given no liquor arter they’re blind drunk—an’ there ain’t never no shanghai-in’ a110wed. There you are.” “ I’m glad to know that on keep such a. scrupulously virtuous place, r. Grimsby.” “That he blowedl What are you here fur? That’s what I wanter know.” “ Easy, Toni, easy!” inter Newthe. “The gent’s a friend of mine, an’ consekently under my purtection. Remember that.” “ Remember nothin’ !” cried the other, with an oath. “ VVhat’s he arter?” “ To get some information of you. I told you that last night. Have you been drunk ever since?” Without answering, the man fixed his sinister eyes upon Mainwaring with suspicmus scrutiny. “ Information, eh?” he growled, somethin like fear coming into his swollen and brats face. it Yes.” “ Information ’bout what, Jacki—Not about the old days an’ doin’si” “ No, no!” continued Newthe, impatiently. \ . a - ~10 “ Information of your daughter what was put into a Institoot, you know. My friend got in- terested in her there, and would like to know what became of her.” The landlord avo a start. Then be fixed is eyes yet more suspiciously on the detective. . “Are you sure,” said he, half-menacingly, “ that y0u was interested in my daughter, little Nance, while she was at the Institoot?” The detective supported the fabrication, but unwillingly. “ Good enough! I‘Vhat Institoot was it?” Mainwaring was naturally nonplused, but Newthe came promptly again to his support. “ Oh, you’re a fool, Tom!" he exclaimed, with pretended anger. “Jess as if there was more’n . one Shelterin’ Arms Institoot of the Children’s Aid Society! You make me tired.” Here there were indications of a fight in the adjoining tap-room, and the landlord hurried away to nip it in the bud, with his arms bared to the elbow and blood in his eye. As he turned his back Old Newthe looked after him ‘with an expression of concentrated ani- mosity. “ You keep up the Institoot dodge,” he whis- pered to the detective, “ an 1’11 gradually lend u to the sub 'ect of them murdeis.” His hands 0 inched. “ h, how I would like——” He was cut short by the landlord’s unceremo- uious return. There had ensued the sound of heavy blows, toting chair, a wrangle of oaths and epithets, and sweet peace had once more spread her hal- cyon wings over the Mariner’s Rest. The landlord seemed to be in an improved humor, fighting being perhaps his customary self- uieting draught. “ 0 you was a—sayin’ as how you knOWed my little Nance at the Institoot?” said he, resuming his seat. Mainwaring nodded. “ Well, young man, I wish you could tell me what’s beCome of her—I allers had a sneakin’ sort 0’ Weakness fur mg little Nance.” “ But that is what hoped to find out from you, sir. A lovely, a fascinating child, sir!” The landlord’s evil temper returned. “ How should I know i” he burst out, savagely. " Her infernal witch of a mother shoved her into the Institoot when I was laid by the heels, along of some river—piratin‘, curse her! What d’ye come to me furl When I got on my legs ag’in the gal had been dropped out, an’ no one would put me on the track of her. But wouldn’t I five my left hand to lay hold of her now? He he she s growed up handsome, an’ she might tend bar for me here.” Mainwaring gave an inner shudder. “ What d’ye mean by your , I say?” The detective was about to answer, when he v was ll ed to silence b Old Newthe. “ H53 your horses, om Grimsby, or you an’ I’ll quarrel,” said the latter. with sudden fierce- , ness. “ I’m not goin’ to hev my friend here , scared out of his boots afore he’s had a chance to so his soul is his own. You hear me!” ' “ ut curse it all, Jack-” “ Avast, I tell you. Let me do the chinnin’ a ' ,9 bit. . ‘ , The landlord acquiesced, after throwing an , _ odd glance at him, and then began refilling the k- . ‘. “(ant away, Jack,” said he. “And here’s to you! , ‘ Newthe also drank. “ My oung friend’s objeck is jess this, Tom,” :- ' and he ed is eyes piercingly on the landlord. ' . .“He wants to find out the where’bout of your wife "an’ daughter along of a perticular pur- pose. “ What purgosa is that, Jack?“ , “Along o’ t a gentleman what ’dopt the gal, ' an’ what was recingtly found murdered in his g, bed Tom Grimsbyl” The landlord turned white through his pur- plod complexion, and the look of fear returned ' to his e es, but only to give instant place to a cold pit‘ ess hardness there. "‘So that’s our game, is it, Jack Newthe?” . said he. “T e old score is burnin’ in your V crop, nn’Pyou’re wantin’ to git even on me in s “ What do you mean?” cried Newthe, with a , blank look. ' The landlord paid no further attention to him, " ' but turned to the detective, almost thrusting his face under his nose. . “ How are on, Mr. Parson?” he hissed out, in a strangely b tter voice. “ I am well, thank on.” “ How are you, r. Guy Mainwaring, the famous Gliding Detective of old Winkerton’s spies and cut-throats?” . And, before the detective could recover from bk surprise, the “(ponderous landlord of the Mariner's Rest h overturned the table, and hurled himself upon him like an avalanche. Old N ewthe sprung fearlessly to his feet with an oath, but was, to all appearances, as sum- marllv knocked down by a blow from behind, and the room at once filled with rufllans. , , “ Get out the boat, and be cautious,” said the the thud of a falling body, the crash of a Splln- . Mainwaring, the Salamander. landlord, kneeling on the detective’s chest. “This spy must be taughtalesson. Then tell my wife it’s all right." CHAPTER XI. GAGGED AND BOUND. ONCE more gagged and bound, the detective was presently carried through the alley—way, across South street, and lowered into a large yawl, that lay rocking on the water, part-way under one of the pich. The weather had turned to threatening, with but occasnonal glimpses of stars and the adjacent water-front was comparatively deserted. A cloaked female figure was already seated in the stern of the boat, as if in expectancy. The the fat landlord descended into it, fol- lowed by the muffled figure of a man, of silent and mysterious aspect. These in their turn were followed by four stout oarsmen, who deftly slipped into their placcs, and grasped the sculls. Then the boat was released from her fasten- ings, and her head turned outward. The woman managed the tillcr ropes admir- ably, the oar-blades bit intothe sullen water, the bows of a couple of brigs that were lying end-on in the dock were avoided by a c10se ‘ shave, and tho yawl shot out into mid-stream. “ Keep her well up,” said the landlord, in a low but authoritative voice. “We’ll have the flood tide with us in loss than tcn minutes." Even without overbearing this, Mainwaring would have guessed by the passing shore and Eerry lights that they were heading up East lind‘. Ho doubted not that the landlord had seen through his pretended character from the very outset. and was now bent upon revenge, proba- bly to the extent of murdering him, the better to secure his own safety. For was not the detective now justified in be- lieving that he was in the power of the man who had murdered Peregrine Calthorpe and Ichabod Taylor, most likely with the connivance, or actual aSsistance, of his wife and daughter, Mrs. Bentincke and Issie? ‘ At all events. he thought he was, and, helpless and speechless, he could only lie there in the boat, and await whatever doom was being designed for him. Strange to say, even under these desperate circumstances, one of his most frequent side- refiections was one of pilgy for his late com anion -——“poor, faithful Old owthel” as he t ought of him—who he did not doubt had been mur- dered in his defense. As the upper and less frequented waters of the estuary were reached, the wild and reckless sEirits of the landlord seemed to rise and beat (ti eir wings, as a fresh-freed vulture might have one. “ It’s like the old bold days over again.” be ex— claimed, with a nudge of the woman’s knee. “ Eh, old girl?” She nodded in seeming good-humored sympa- thy, but without rep! dug; “ Oh it’s joy—it’s ike randy to a half-dead stomac !” cried the old ruflian, gayly. “ What would I not give ‘for a whifl o the brave old river-piratin‘ days again? But I’m old, old now —old and stiff from the jail-sores and the years. Pass it around, he s!” And he produc a bottle at which all his com- panions t()0k a pull with a gusto, excepting the woman and the muffled figure at her side. Then he began indicating the scenes of his past nefarious exploits that they were passing. “ See! there is where we did up the skipper and crew of the Norwegian oil-ship. Lord! how the Dutchmen squawked as we knocked ’em on the head. And we got away, without the blasted cops snuflin a hair of us. And yonder, under the Ravensw shore, was where we looted the big East Indiaman, but not without Jerry Stanwix going under, and I’ve one of their cussed bullets in my legs to this day. Pull away, lads! now we feel the flood. But hold on!” and he turned again to the woman. “ VVh not one of these rocks, as well as another? hcy’ll be flooded under in two hours.” She shook her head, muttering something about the spot not being secluded enough. The landlord acquiesced with a laugh, and went on with his cold—blooded reminiscences of midnight crime, while the awl, tirelessly pulled and now well in the fl tide’s embrace, shot swiftly along the east side of Blackwell’s Island whose half-submerged outlying reefs had call forth the mysterious suggestion. Presently the woman signed the landlord to silence. “ Try him now,” she said in a voice that was evidently disguised. The ex-river-pirate nodded. Then be relieved the prisoner of his gag], part- ly pro ped him up against a small cas ; and page a few drops of spirits and water between is )S. “ i, there, you cussed spy! Can you speak?” he asked. The detective clacked his dry tongue ainst the roof of his month, which felt as if i had been baked, and moved his lips. “ A little,” he managed to say in reply. i “ Well, a little is all we’re wantin’ at present, and deuced little, too!” Here the woman relinquished the tiller~ropes to her silent companion, and edged nearer to the captive. , “ Do you know who I am?” she asked, but without removing her vail. The detective feeny shook his head. ‘_‘]Do you know now?” and she had raised her val . He glared at her. “Mrs. Benrincknl” he exclaimed faintly. “ But I might haw guessed as much.” “ W by?” She was gloating over him with such venom- ousness as he had not dreamed a wcman’s face to be capable of. “ You ought to know,” he answered. “Spy! scorpion! noiseless - footed sleuth— hound! Yes, 1 do know why, and I will tell you.” She spoke so low as scarcely to be heard by any one but him, and 'et with a vibrant in- tensenoss of hatred an mali nity that chilled him to the marrow, fearless as me was. “ You are my daughter’s husband,” she Went on, more collectedly, but with no lessening of her venom. “ Had you been content to accept the love and fortune that idiot of a girl was and is still, so eager to ‘ uander upon you, all would have been well, an even I Would have endured you, though I have hated you from the first—almost feared you. But no; apart from your refusal of her glorious bounty, you must needs haunt and pursue me with your infernal suspicions. \Vrctch, for that you shall die t0~ night. Even Issie herself should not save you were she here. 1 would achieve my security—l would have your life, if I had to wade through her blood to take it. Now you kn0w more than you did before. Confcss it.” The concentrated malice of her words had rushed with but little sound, in deadly noiseless- ness from her quivering li ,s. As her listener vouchsaled no reply, she went n: “ But fear not; your curiosity shall be meas- urably satisfied. You shall carry with you across the threshold of the doom have pre- pared for you something of the secret intelli- ence for which you have so madly lon ed. es, I, Mrs. Bentincke, was in former ays Dolly Grimsby, the river—pirate’s wife; this man” (indicating the landlord) “ was my gentle, my conscientious husband; and the superb Issie was our child.” She paused again, but he still attempted no answer. “Ha! you suspected this much before, you might say,” she went on, with a wild smile. “ But I would have you know it indubitably be- fore you die. I am willing for you to carry a yet dearer secret to the grave. Listen!" Her face was almOSt touching his, and he could just catch her closing words, though her baleful breath was hot upon his cheeks and eyes. “ Listen! Guy Mainwaring, mine was the brain that contrived, though not mine the hand that wrought, old Calthorpe’s death and that of the man-nurse who might otherwise have pro- tected him! Listen yet further. There was a later will. and I found and burned it.” He could only look at her, half-stupefled with horror. She coolly replaced her vail, resumed the tiller-ropes, and sunk back into her former seat. “Give way! give way!” she called out in her acrustomed clear and resolute voice. “ 6 must reach the rock before the tide half-covers it. Give way, I tell you 2” They were now rushing up with the tide at a furious pace. and recently came to a pause near one of the part y-submerged rocks running out southwardly from Gibsons Island, and on the edge of Hell Gate. After being regagged, the helpless detective was summarily fastened on his back to this rock, with the rising water washing over his lower extremities. “ Good-by, Mr. Mainwaringl” called out the woman’s hateful voice, in mock sympathy. “We are not bloody-minded or vindictive, as you see. We do not kill you, we do not stain our hands with your treacherous blood: We merely leave you severely alone. We also wish on joy of the precious secrets you have ob- ined. The wretched captive heard the swash of the waves against the turning prOW, then the splash of the cars, growing fainter and fainter. Then he knew himself to be helpless, aban- doned, doomed. . . He was in a half-Sitting position, and bya great effort could just turn his head from side to side a little, but that was all. Half-stunned for a moment, he could not think—he could just lie there supinely, des- perately, looking up at the now starry sky. Then a troop of bitter and hopeless reflections began to rush through his brain, jostling one another in mad confusion. t_ He was recalled from these by a new sense- ion. The water had reached to his elbows, and was beating over his bound wrists. 4‘} ..,,..', - ‘ \, Mainwaring, the Salamander. 11 " I’ve often watched the tide gradually swarm ' over these rocks from the foot of Eighty-sixth street over yonder, or from the Astoria shore,” . he thought. “ In less than twenty minutes it will be flowing and beating, more than two feet dee over my dead face.” e turned his face so as to look over the boiling waters of the Gate. The two tides—the flood up throu h the har- bor, and the flood back through ng Island Sound—met there in the whirling, dangerous commotion that gave the spot its ill-omened name. Another sensation changed the current of his hideous reflections. . This time it was the advancing water wash- ing over his chest, and so tumultuously that some of the mimic billows beat up over his neck and about his chin. CHAPTER XII. IN THE Tina’s EMBRACE. To describe Mainwaring’s situation—chained to the rock, in the piiiless arms of the up-spring- ing tide—as desperate, is but faintly to empha- size his peril. It is like calling Niagara’s stu ndous cata- ract “ moist,” or characterizing y some such adJective as " unsafe” or “ disagreeable” a volcano’s outpour or an earthquake’s shock. His situation seemed simply, absolutely and appallineg hopeless. be water was now up to his lips—only the upper part of his face and head being not sub- merged. He made a desperate effort and then gave a low moan of temporary relief. The thongs about his wrists and arms, being of leather, had relaxed under the action of the water. _His hands andarms were free, the gag out of his mouth, and he was enabled to sit bolt up- rigght. ut the relief was only temporary, for his knees and ankles, being fastened with hempen cords, which had shrunken under the same ac— tion that had icosened the thongs, were more painfully secure than ever, and no effort of the Victim could mitigate their sufferings in the least degree. The relief was only a respite, after all, and the steadily rismg water was already washing up to his arm its. “Why did not remain quiet?” he thought, drearily. .“ In that case, all would have been over now. As it is, I have obtained perhaps fifteen minutes—fifteen minutes of agony and suspense. However, that is not 10 to wait. I wonder how my body will look ere in the morning, when the tide shall have fallen. Or perhaps it will have been washed away into the caverns of the depths, leaving my fate a mystery. L013! Ah, ifI could but have won her to my heart before I died! And Issie, too. How strangely the dark and sionate beauty of her face haunts me at this read hour. I wonder if, after all, it was she that was married to me. But I shall never know now, save in another world." He was interrupted by a booming, pulsating sound, a long mountain of twinkling lights rushed between his Vision and the Astoria shore, and then a wave broke high over his head, all but strangling him. It was a wave from one of the great Sound steamers sweeping by, on her way to Stoning- ton Prov1dence or Fall River. _Vi’hen the disturbed water had sunk to its tidal level, permitting the detective to recover his breath, the floating palace had made the turn, and was no more than a dream. The thought of the brimming life it had con— tained, and all so near and yet unconscious of lhis desolation and deepair, fairly maddened im. He began to rave and babble meaninglesst to himself, like hapless castaways upon a mid-sea raft in the far South Seas. Then there was the sound of oars in rowlocks, and he came back to hope, and to horror. It was a boat filled with the midnight relief of workmen for the Government excavating works on the neighboring reef. His head was now just above water. He tried to hail them, but the voice died in his throat—his dry tongue cleaved to the roof of his yet drier mouth. He swallowed some of the nauseating brine, by this time hterally brimming to his lips. Then he found faint voice, but the boat had now passed beyond hailing distant». _He “’93 T9139“? into the idiocy that precedes dissolution and espair, when the clatter of rewlocks once more aroused him, Then. by a last eflort, he raised a great, de- spairing cry. Was it heard and answered! Yes. in 3 CQUPIO 9f shrill, frantic and yet en- couraging vaices, like those of women. Nearer and nearer, till the resigf the row- locIiIi: gfiéilge tgrating thunder in ' ears. 0 0 . c out again, for the water was up to ill! nostrils. t he could see the advancing 53;. looking like a tall ship’s prow in the star- , Then the waves were beating and clamoring ‘ about his very ears, and he knew no more. Recovering consciousness, he found himself in the boat. | Two graceful figures, in feminine boating costume but as wet and dripping as he, were ’ chafing his hands. and one was wildly murmur- ing his name, while their awl rocked at will in the boiling waters of the ate. He staggered up. A convulsive spasm over the gunwale relieved him of the salt water he had swallowed, and he was almost himself again. The young women clasped their hands, the one in silent thanksgiving, the other with joyous CI‘lOS. They were Lois and Issie. “ You llI‘l' saved!” murmured the former. “ Saved, and chiefly through her!” Pointing to her companion. “ It is not true,” cried Issie. “She first heard your cry—first located your head above the water!” “ And she dived down to cut your feet away from the rock!” “ No; we both did that!” The detective gazed at them in a species of de- lighted stiipefaction. Then, seizing the cars, he began guiding the boat back into smoother water. The exercise seemed to complete the restora- tion of his faculties. “ It seems like a miracle,” he said. “ Tell me how you came to know of my peril.” “ Issie was warned of it—of Mrs. Bentincke’s infamous intention—and then told me.” “ Then Lois suggested a resort to our boating ex crience.” ‘Yes; but for Issie’s energy, we could never have made the start.” " Lois, you are unfair to yourself. It was , you that made Mr. Digby procure the boat for us at McComb’s Dam, though you persisted in refusing to let him accompany us.” “ I knew we could get on just as well without him. asides—1’ And so the generous rivalry proceeded, until . the story of the romantic rescue was cloudin unfolded. “ When did you first learn of this?” asked the astonished Mainwaring. “ In the afternoon,” they answered. “ And you mean to say that you have rowed down here from McComb’s Dam Bridge, on the Harlem?” “ Yes; we started early.” He remained silent after that, working the boat mechanically, but with telling strokes. They wanted to relieve him of the oars, but he would not have it; making them sit in the stern and talk, while he also managed to tell the particulars of his own adventure. Issie had overheard Mrs. Bentincke convers- ing with a strange man in the garden, during which the murderous plot, ,just as it was subse- quently carried out in almost every rticular against the detective, was thorough y pre-ar- ranged. Localities and points of time had been accu- rately revised. Issie ad, after some hesitation, owing to the recent coolness between them, carried her know!- ed e of the plot to Lois. heir first impulse was to notify the police; their next the more romantic scheme which had been so ogportunely carried out, though a dela of but a ew moments would have been fatal as has been seen. “ You say that Carolus Digby procured the boat for you?” said the detective. to Yes.7 “ There are strange contradictionsin that per- son’s character that puzzle me.” He then recounted his previous adventures in which Digby had figured so contradictorily. The young ladies were no less puzzled than he. Everything pertaini to the unprecedented rescue havmg been at ex laiued, a silence of rofound embarrassment fel upon the party, bro en only by the dip and grating of the oars as the detective, having made the turn into the Harlem, pulled steadily for McComb‘s Dam, 'or 91.33 .(ijt is now more generally called, Central n e. This embarrassment will be readily understood as being of a mostunusual character, especially so far as Mainwaring was concerned. Owing his rescue from a horrible death to two fascinatin young women, one of whom pos- sessed his cart, while the other, at least in her own insistence, was the r of his hand, what could be more confused and perplexing. Nor was this all. Issie’s family ties with the man and woman who had attain ted this murderous wrong upon him—how coul he ever name this unfortunate connection to her without at least a semblance of base ingratitude, after the tremendous obli- gation under which she had placed him? He inly groaned at the apparent hopelessness of the complication in whic he found himself involved. “ One thing more ” said be, turning to Issie, and breaking the pa nful silence at last, as they drew near their destination. She looked up expectantly. P—I‘ / “ The stranger,” he went on, “ whom you over- heard Mrs. Beutinckewplotting with in the gar- den—what was he like. “ I can scarcely describe him, because his face was concealed. He seemed a rather short, thick-set man, rather roughly dressed, and muf- fled up uite mysteriously." “ Don tless the same that accompanied the woman and her infamous husband in the yawl,” he was saying, half to himself, when he caught sight of the young woman’s shame-faced blush, and stopped short. “ Go on,” she said, with pathetic firmness. “ If it is no fault of mine, it is none the less true, I suppose, that the wretches are my pa— rents.” “ I shall not go on,” he responded, gently. “ I shall merely express the hope that m faithful assistant, poor Old Newthe, was not ' ed—that he will turn up, with nothing worse than a broken head, to once more help me in running these monsters down.” “ Heaven grant that he may!” exclaimed Issie, ‘ fervently. The light of a new dawn was broadening in the east as the boat approached the public float near the north end of the bridge. Lois had silently passed to the prow, the boat- kee ,r was standing on the float awaitingfhem, an a solitary equipage—a fine horse and uggy, with a tall, cloaked figure at the reins—was slow! crossing the bridge near the float in the dim ut rapidly growing light. “ on all seem to have had aducking,” jocose- ly commented the boatkeeper, as a landing was effected. “ It’s a good thing for you, though, that the weather is so hot.” Here there was a startled exclamation from Lois, who had been the first to trip across the float to the roadwa bridge-entrance. “ Save her!” sud enly screamed Issie. “ He’s carrying her off.” \ But the tall, cloaked figure in the buggy had already bent far down over the wheels, and snatched up the startled girl in the crook of his powerful arm. CHAPTER XIII. THE RESCUE. THEN there was a sharp click of the stranger’s tongue, the animal darted forward obedient] , and Lois was being whirled out of sight up e stretch of that famous concourse, the delight of New York’s fashionable driving world, to the north of Central Bridge. It all happened almost before the astounded tors had had time to catch their breaths. “ It was Carolus Digby—I am sure it was!” “ The poor oung lady! Was that chap her father or her over?” Such were the first startled exclamations of Issie and the boatkeeper. But before the last syllable had quitted its ut- terer’s lips, the Gliding Detective had sped like a eased arrow into a roadside lot, where a fine-looking horse was grazin . “ Hold on, sir!” yelled the hoatkeeper. “ I'll lend you the horse, and welcome—he’s but wait for a saddle and bridle!” But Mainwaring had alread backed the brute, ~ T causing him to take the low ence at a bound, and, guiding him solely by his voice and knees, was t undering up the road in pursuit. “Lord, what riding!” exclaimed the boat- keeper. “ Is the gentleman a circus-man, miss?" Issie had sunk to restupon one of the high- ., and-dry yawls, with which a part of the float was covered, and was striving to collect her thou hts. “ e may have been almost anything manly and courageous, for an ht I know to thecon» trary,” she replied, a lit e drearily. “ But this I am sure of, that whatever mortal man can ao- complish he is capable of.” She spoke with a strange desolateness of feel- ing; for was it not after er rival, and yet her friend—the other Lois—that he was now thun- derin in such desperate haste? “ ell, if he can only stick on,” continued the man, “ he‘s bound to overhaul the young lady’s abductor, sooner or later. There ain’t many ohance-roadsters around here that can out-run or out-wind my big bay. But won‘t you into the boat~house. miss, and rest yo against the gentleman’s return?” - She shook her head, thanking him in a low voice, and remained in her dejected attitude. In the mean time, the detective, who was a superb horseman, was continuing his break- neck pursuit up the deserted roadwa . But, though the abductor had ess than a quarter of a mile the start, it was doubtful, nathless the boatkeeper‘s boast, whether he would have been overtaken, but for an un- locked-for interception. , This happened in that woodland bordering stretch of road between the celebrated hostelry of Gabe Case’s and the no less popular one known as Judge Smith’s. At this point, a she thick-set with a stout cud !, denly darted to the am of the ing trotter from amongtho A well-delivered blow with the cudgel and" theanimaiflrsttoswervo,and thatch-kw I , . 5 . me. 12 Mainwaring, the salamander. and stagger in the traces, notwithstanding the shower of oaths and Whip blows on the part of the exasperated driver. In another instant, and while he was chiefly occupied in controlling the startled and plung- ing horse, the half-fainting Lois was torn from his grasp out over the wheels by the courageous cudgel-wielder; who, strangely enough, seemed to make a swift, im .rative sign to the irate rascal as he stepped ack to the road-line, with his lovely burden in his arms. The other made a fierce, baffled gesture, and seemed to hesitate between fury and prudence. But the pursuing hoof-beats were by this time clamoring less than a furlong behind. He whipped up once more, and quickly disap- peared around the bend of the road. The detective had seen and welcomed the op- portune assistance to his cause, without recog- nizing the man that afforded it. Judge of his astonishment now in having the young lady surrendered to his charge by no less axpersonage than Old Newthe! “ Heavens!” cried Mainwaring; “ you are still alive then, old stand-by?” “It kinder looks like it, sir,” was the laconic replfi. ‘ ut what fortunate hocus’pocus is this? How on earth did you chance hereabouts, and so opportnnely ?” “ All shall be explained in due time, Mr. Mainwaring. In the mean time, you have your hands full.” With a gesture toward Lois, who was now struggling to descend from her uneasy seat before the bare-back horseman, into which she had been rather unceremoniously lifted. “ Good-by, sir. Thank God, you also have escaped the horrors of last night!’ With that, the old man darted into the wood, and disappeared. Lois, still partly dazed, was feeny continuing her struggle. " Let me down, Guy—Mr. Mainwaring, I mean—let me down this instant!” she exclaimed. “ I thank you for rescuing inc—1 shall nevur forget you—your kindness, your braveryi-but this is not right! I am perfectly capable of walking. Do let me get down, sir! ’ “ But I can best carry you back in this way,” he remonstrated. “No one else will see you— therc’s not a soul abroad vet.” “ It matters not, sir. Let me down—I insist! I can walk, I tell you.” But she had hardly taken three steps, after being set on her feet, before she began to stum- ble and reel. Without paying further heed to her protests, Mainwaring again snatched her up before him, and galloped back to the bridge. A. cold, strained leok came into Issie’s face as she perceived in what guise they reappeared. But she said nothing, only gently receiving Lois in her arms, and retiring with her into the boat-house, while the boatkeeper was enthusias- tic in his encomiums. “ B cracky, sir! I didn’t think you’d manage it at rat,” he exclaimed, looking over the per- spiringnhorse, which had sustained no injury ' from '3 hard breathin r. “But when I see‘d how you stuck to the crit r’s spine as if glued there, then i was sure "Oll’d overhaul that roan trotter inside 0’ three urlongs.” The detective briefly ex lained the real state of the case, and satisfied t 0 man for the use of the boat—he would accept nothing for the ser~ vices of the horse. “ By the way,” added Mainwaring, after a pause. “ Do you remember the man who en- the boat at the young ladies’ re nest. , Purty well, sir. A big muscu ar ent, with lon side-whiskers, and so much 1i e a - lblasted ndoner in his togs as to make you ., ug h. “ So. And did you recognize him as the same . 3;; who has just tried to carry the young lady The man pondered a moment, and then slap- ped his thigh. “ By Jupiter! yes, now I come to put ’em to- gether, they were one and the same,” he ex- " claimed. “He was dressed like a gentleman thlslast time—that’s what must have confused By Jingo sir!” this with an eagerly in- _ isitive look, ‘there’s mysteries and myster- ' es oin’ on in society now, isn’t they?” 6 detective nodded, and, the young ladies reappoaring at that moment, he lost no fur- ther time in escorting them to the mansion— house. “ We’re luckily not far from home,” remarked Issie,on the wa thither. “And it is still so earl that we 3 ll probably be able to slip bac to our rooms Without our absence having been noticed.” ’ She seemed to have recovered her eqnanimity now, and Lois had also in a. great measure re— gained her composure. Still, the former embarrassment had come up- on the trio, and hardly another word was spoken before Rose Hill was reached. Fortunately, none of the household was stir— ri as yet. inwaring had accompanied the young wo- men through the arden to the piazza. Here at r a ew murmured and hardly in- telligible words of acknowledgment, Lois had disappeared into her side of the house, with an averted face. He was looking rather reproachfully after her, thinking that Issie had also retired. But she had lingered, and now ventured to touch his hand. As he gravely regarded her, there was a pitia- ble assum tion of playfulness in the darkly- beautiful, but anxious face. “A penny for your thoughts!” she mur- mured. “ They are scarce] y worth it, Issie,” he re- plied, “ they are so hopelessly confused." “ But what are you chiefly thinking about just new?” “ About that enigma in human form, Carolus Digb '. I don’t know what to think or make of him.’ She colored, having doubtless hoped for some complimentary allusion to her part in his rescue from the riverrock, but gave no other betrayal of her disappointment. “ You may well call the man an enigma,” she assented. “ But let us hope that there may be a Speedy solution of it.” He again fell into a reverie, to be again roused from it by the touch of her hand. She was looking at him with a World of pas- sionate entreaty in her loveliness. “ ()h, Guy! why won’t you say something to me?” , Her eyes Were wild, her red lips quivering, her beautiful hands cxtcndeded tremblineg to~ ward him, bent and moving like the talons of a startled bird. He undersimid, and, while unable to respond to her supplication, was suddenly inspired by a frenzy not unlike her own. “Angel or sorcercss! wonian~Issie!” he cried, hoarscl y ; “ tell me the truth before Heaven—are you, or are you not, my wife?” There was just a flash of hesitation—or was it a conscience—sti‘ickcn feaN—before the ansWer rushed from her lips: “ I am, I am your wife! swear it, Gu 1” But no; in that brief flush his doubt had re turned. But no less perplexing was the doubt as to her insincerity. \V by not give her the benefit thereof? She was so youn r, she was radiantly beauti— ful, she was rich, she loved him to distraction; while, apart from the youth and beauty, how could he know but; that his longed-for Leis was the reverse of this, or was there proof that she still loved him? For an instant there was a recurrence of the impulse to accept the situation as inevitable—to snatch the beseeching beauty to his heart. Then, by a mighty effort, his moral nature was once more in the ascciidant, and he fought the impulse down. “ Issic,'l cannot—I simply cannot!” His voice broke while saying it, but his face was resolved, though of ashy paleness. Then he took her hands in his, patting them soothingly, and drawin 7 her slightly tn him, as a brother might have one to a lovely and dis— tressed sister. “At least I cannot now—not yet,” he troub- lously added. She caught at the hope, poor and men er as it was, her eyes gl0wing, the rich color actuat- infiin the transparent olive of her face. e continued to pet and soothe her, after that brotherly fashion. "‘ Let us speak of other things,” said he. “ Indeed, it becomes necessary that we should do so.” She bowed her head. “ Mrs. Beatincke,” he began, “ should she ven- ture to return here—-” She interrupted him furiously. ‘;,Return!” she echoed. “She will not dare to! Before Heaven I CHAPTER XIV. WHEELS WITHIN wnnaLs. “ LET us hope not,” said the detective. “ She will not dare it, I tell you!” exclaimed ISSIO. “ She shall not look upon my face again. She has nttem ited your life—from what you have told me. ‘he has confessed to having con- trived my benefactor’s assassination! Should she dare approach me again, I would have her arrested as the vilcst criminal! I swear it!” He bOWed his head. “ You could do nothing else—of course I can- not but applaud such a determination—and et—’ She snatched away her hands, her face crim- soning, her frame quivering. “ And yet—do I not know, without your say- ing it?,—and yet she is my mother!” ‘he buried her face in her hands. When she raised it again it was le, but set. “It would make no difference,’ she said, be- tween her teeth. “ She has attempted your life ——she is even worse, as self-confessed. A mur- deress and my mother maybe, but shall not re- main, as one. She shall be hunted down re- morselessly. It shall make no difference with 6. He hesitated. \ He did not like to say how much difference it would necessarily, even in her most hoped-for event, make with him—that criminal family tie. She understood him, and her agitation re— turned. “ y God! yes. that is it,” she wailed. “The wretch is still my flesh and blood. Oh, torture! And if I must call such a being mother, what ‘must that other—what must my father—be like?” Mainwaring’s commiseration for her was im— mense. And thus far he was finding himself on dan- gerous ground. Pity is so near allied to love, when beauty sorrows and devotion leads. He had it not in his eart to say aloud that he had seen that father, and had shuddered at his vileness, but the words were in his looks. She suddenly seized his hands, and covered them with kisses. “ Guy, Guy, Guy!” she murmured: “ ou shall liotdisown me. Only retain that poss1ble place for me in your heart, my love, my life, my husband! I shall win my way to it, if it must be through their guilty blood!” Then she darted away, and was gone. As he was retracing his way to the gate, Justine Deschapiwlles stole outof the shrubbery, and confronted him. The detectivo had had but little acquaintance with the French maid. She was a comely Parisian, dark and mysteri- ous—looking, but with something attractive about her, and now she seemed to have been wakeful and ierhaps weeping, “ Viil he come again, Monsieur Mainwaringfi” she cxr-laimed, in her rather pretty broken English. “ Ah, monsiean tell me that he will come again.” The detective smiled. There was a sensation of relief for him in this young woman’s rather transparent trouble. “ You mean Luke? Ah, I see. Yes, Justine, he will doubtless come again. You have quar- reled then?” She softly began to weep. He began to see his way to something precious in the way of elucidation. He cared little new if Justine might know anything of the murders, but, with regard to the myster of his marriage—to the truth or untruth of ssie's claim upon him—she must still remain, in the absence of the officiating cler y- man and his wife, the sheet anchor of is hope. “' Don't cry,” said he, sympathetically. “What seems to have been the matter! Was your lover unreasonable!" “ Ah, inonsicur, a fiend, a demon, a wild man!” Mainwaring could not help laughing. “ Conic, come; not so bad as that.” said he. “ I can guess the cause of your quarrel.” “ Ah, no, monsieur. He is a monster, a despot!” “ Nonsense! You persist in remaining ob- durate, and he is losing patience. That is all.” “ I obdurate, monsieur? What is obdurate, monsienr?” “ Hard—unyielding—obstinate in unreason- able secrecy.” “ Ah! but I am as wax, as putty, as the clay in the potter’s hand.” . “ Why not, then, respond to his demand for your confidence?” She shuddered. “ Ah, that murder— that hideous murder!" she murmured. “ that should I know of it, monsienr?” He suddenly seized her wrist, and riveted her with his searching gaze. “ Never mind that—at least for the present ” he said, sternly. “ But you undoubtedly do know of something else, Justine.” “ Ah, monsieur, no! I am fright, I am terrify!” “ Listen, Justine. I believe you honest in intention, but over zealous in your fidelity to your young mistress. You understand?” “ Ah, monsieur!” “ What was the truth of this marriage decep- tion she pretends to have played upon me? You are in the secret, I am sure of it. Unbosom it to me this instant!” “ Ah, but I cannot—I dare not.” He rudely cast away her hand. “ Then on shall never have Luke Jardine for a husband: depend upon it! Say no more.” “Ah, monsieur, say) not 89! He is my life, my breath! You will ring him back, monsieur? See; I clasp my two hands. I wring my heart!” “ Excuse my saying it, young woman, but—- Oh, bosh!” . “Ah, monsienr; but if I some time say all, will you then—” “ hen our Luke shall be at your feet—I swear it. ell me now what I wish to know.” “ Ah. pas maintenant—not now, monsieur. Sometime, sometime!” “ This instant!" She Would only clasp her hands, and shake her head—her wonted final way with Luke himself, as the latter had frequently reported, The detective turned on_ his heel, with an ex- pression of rage and impatience. Mainwaring, the Salamander. -. w...” ... ,... .. _ "' Wait, monsieur, wait!” she had snatched his hand. “ There is something else.” “ \Vhat is it?” “ He is jealous, monsieurl” “ Oh, the deuce he is?” he was turning angrily away once more when his curiosity came lan— guidly to the surface. “ You mean that Luke is jealous?” “Alas, monsieurl—a fiend, a demon, a tem- pest!” He laughed afresh, in spite of himself. “ \Vho is be jealous of?” “ Ah, nionsieur, he is cruel, he is crazy!” “ But what man is he jealous of? Don’t be so ridiculous!” “ Not of a man, monsicur.” “ Whom can he be jealous of, then .9” “ Not of a man, but of men.” “ Of men?” “ Yes, there are two, monsicur.” “ Who are they, in heaven’s name?” “ Oh, monsicur, two such men! Monsieur Calthorpe, Mademoiselle Lois’s papa, and Monsieur Deegby! The idea, inonsieur, the idea!” And, with an emotional sob at parting, the little French woman skurried away through the garden trees. “ More mystery, ever a fresh mystery l” mut- tered the detective, as he pursued his homeward way. “ “'hat the deuce can the girl mean? But I suppose J ardine will explain things in the course of time.” He lodged in a humble but spacious room, overlooking the water near the East or Harlem river foot of 122d street. Worn out with the exhausting adventures through which he had passed, he was pre aring for bed with a feeling of intense relief an satis- faction, when a scrap of paper hastily pinned under his coat-lapel attracted his attention. It contained these words, in a scrawling, un— known hand: “ Let the Gliding Detective beware! His enemies are sleepless. He may esca a hundred times, and yet is the doom preparing or him that no luck or cleverness may turn aside." An unsigned scrawl, a wordy menace—that was all l But how and when had it become fastened to his coat? hl‘here was the rub, and a perplexing one, at t t. He reflected. The pa rhad not be’en wet, and was conse- quefiitly p aced there after his submersion on the rec . But by whom? Placin both Issie and Lois out of the'question, he had s1nce then, to the best of his knowledge, come in close proximity to but two persons. These were Old Newthe and Justine Descharr pelles, from whom he had just separated. The former was beyond his suspicion .now, and, as for the other—could Justine be playing a double part, half in the interest of her lover, and half in devotion to the infamous Mrs. 'Ben- tincke? No; he could not bring himself to think so. Then there was the boatkeeper, also at once dismissed as soon as thought of, and—he started. Yes; While ascending to his room, a moment previous, some one, a woman whom he had not he ht to look twice at, had passed him on the still; afi‘kenetli stairs. uc pe exed he threw onadressin ~ own and rungilhg bell. ’ g 8 Mrs. cGinty, his landlady, rather tardin made her appearance. She was an honest, hard-workin Irish wo- man, of much amplitude of form an inexhaus- tible good-nature, though a trifle sleepy-eyed at this ‘uncture. “ morning, Mrs. McGinty! Who was it, pray, that passed me on the stairs on my my up?” he urst into her pleasant laugh. “Troth, an’ it was meself, sir!” she replied. “ But ye lookedso absorbed that I didn’t ventur’ to shpake.” “ Oh, it was you, was it?” “Surel ,sir, an’ yit—” she hesitated. “’Twas about an our ago, I suppose ye m’ane, sir?” “Not at all—less than five minutes ago. I have just returned.” Mrs. McGinty looked blank, but brightened p again. “00h. thin it must have been the gintleman on the top fiure! You‘re of wan shape, an’ the ylv‘as dim.” 1 .e enough. Then on did not pass me on tha stairs five or six urinates back?” Sure an’ I did not sir. I’d have had to be in the ,basement kite in an’ on the shtairs at gammnaetgme to do it, sir; an’, not be- WI e yewsbiquities—’ ‘ Some one did pass me, though, and it was a woman.” :ZUnpossible, your Honor!” “ Why impossible?” There’s divil of a. woman in the blissed house but meself.” “ Are you sure?” “ Fun, 911’ am I sure of the contints of me own house? Was there iver the loike of it?” “But a woman passed me at the time—I would swear to it.” The good woman now grew thoroughly trou- bled. “ Och! an’ is it faymale thayves an’ bu’glers I have in me house at my time 0’ life?" she cried. “ Wait till I get me rollin’-pin. I’ll ex— ploore the howl place!" “ D0 so. accompany you now, anco, don’t hesitate to call upon me. do.” “ \Vhat was she loike, sir i” “A woman as large as yourself, but the light was dim, and I paid little attention. Don’t forget to call me, if you want any help.” “Indade, an’ I’ll not call on, but a police- man, if needs be, sir! You lyook that pale an’ haggard that me heart bleeds for ye, sir. But don’t fear for me~there’s pith in me owld arm yit, if a bu’gler it shall prove. Good rest to ye, sir.” She hurried away for her rolling-pin, and Mainwaring, weary of the subject and pretty But if you want assist- That will much everything else, 10st no further time in . rollng into bed, where he was almost instantly plunged in sleep. He was awakened by a heated and suffocat- ing sensation. Smoke and flames were springing and curl- in around him. e strove to bound from the bed, but found it impossible. A realization of the master-horror of his life was upon him. He was tied to the bed, and the bed was on fire! ' CHATTER XV. THE BED OF FIRE. BUT even then, the detective had not realized to the full the unexampled horror of his pre- dicament. He had been bound, hand and foot, neck and cro , to the burning bed while lying on the flat of his back, with his head pillowed rather high. A familiar smell apprised him that the edges of the couch had been saturated with ker0sene, prior to the application of the incendiary match. But this was mingled with another smell, with which he was less familiar. An instant explanation of it was at hand. Failing in the effort to spring from the uch of fire, his next impulse was, naturall ough, to open his mouth to yell for help. 5 Even such a sli ht action caused a wet towel, ised on the bi] owing pillow above his grehead, to roll down over his mouth and nostrils, and to remain clinging there. The towel proved to have been saturated with chloroform—thus accounting for the interming- lin odor that had at first been irrecognizable. he man seemed doomed. His attempted outcry ended in a spasmodic 1p. guBut even at this juncture the Gliding Detec- tive’s presence of mind did not wholly desert him. '* He clinched his teeth, and held his breath, determined not to inhale the deadly fumes until the actual contact of the scorching flames might prompt him to hail the less painful death as a positive doom. Here a low, demoniac laugh, and yet a wo- man’s laugh, smote his ears. It was succeeded by a voice, yet more deadly in its import. “ py! Scorpion! marplot—detective!" it mock- ed: ‘ behold and feel the torturing doom of such as would meddle with a master-scheme. Fair rest to thee on thy bed of fire!” The tone, even apart from the epithets— which were not new to his understanding, made him recognize the voice as the fiendish ex-house- kee r’s. T on there was a rustle of a robe repetition of the itiless laugh, and he knew that she had quit the room, leaving him to his fate. He could scarcely move an inch he could not cry out, he could not h his teeth—the poison- saturated towel ren ring even that equivocal relief inadmissible. He could on! gaze up to the ceiling, which the curling smo e was already blackening. There, however a stout iron ring suddenly an aged his thoughts t seemed firmly imbedded in the plaster, and had at one time suspended the frame of 9. mos- quito netting. ,, Even in that crucial moment his thoughts went out to that iron Oh! if he might but link two of his sinewy fingers through it, how quickly, how nimbly would he wrench himself upward, and clear at a swin 'ng bound that bed of fire. At t is instant a first convulsive tremor thrilled his frame. The flames had for the flrsttime licked his naked flesh—rasping his right forearm and wrist with their scorching breath! A vision of the early Christian martyrs rushed upon him. Just such must have been their shriveling re- \10 , . I’m too thoroughly exhausted to ‘ l I coil as the blaze of 'the fagots first scorched their I flesh—a foretaste of the torturing hour. But what was this? The first fireopang was not less a friend. There was a snapping of charred bonds, and his right arm was free! To tear away the towel, draw a great lung- filling breath, and then release his other mem- bers, was the work of a desperate instant. But the edges of the bed were now blazing on every side. He was enveloped in a straight-ascending cur- tain of flame and smoke, a fleeting breath of which into his lungs, even in a single bound to one side, might be fatal. The ring, the ring in the ceiling! His mud longing of an instant before was realized—41w ring was in his powerful grasp. Neither had be overestimated his muscular ; proficiency. He drew himself far up with the one hand, spurned the mattress with his feet, and gave his body a curving launch. There was a sheeted hot breath as he clove the flalllO-Viill with a rush, and he found himself in the middle of the floor. He was scarcely scorched, but the cold even- ing air that came flowing in from over the water was like cooling oil to his red—heated frame. Then to spring to an adjoining cupboard, in which were stored a number of fire-extinguish- ing flasks, was the work of another instant. was a heap of smoldering but harmless ashes. A plunge-bath, luckily obtainable in an ad- joining room, soon restored our detective to something like his old self, physically and men- tally. He had come out of river’s bed unharmed, and now, like a veritable salamander, he had stepped unscathed out of the fire’s embrace. He was putting the finishing touches upon his hasty toilet when Mrs. McGinty, now for the first time getting a whiff of the miniature con~ flagration, came rushing into the bedroom, fol- lowed by Luke Jardine, who had just chanced to stop in to inquire after the welfare of his friends. “ Well, Mrs. McGint , did you find your fe— male bu’gler?” inqui the detective, after her astonishment over the unlooked-for scene had somewhat expended itself. “No, sir,” was the reply. “I searched high an’ low, but divil a woman was in the house but meself.” . “ Indeed !” pointing to the remains of the bed. “ Well, there is, nevertheless, a pretty convinc— ing proof that I was right, while you were wron .” And he foéthwith gave them the particulars 0! his escape. _ The good woman could at first only throw up her hands in mute amazement, while Jardino gravely listened without making any immediate comments. “ Glory be to God!" cried the landlady, at last- “ is it haunted or bewitched that we are? “Neither the one nor the other,” said Main- waring, coolly. “ A fiend in petticoats bassin- ply pursued me into the house in some way, and attempted my death by toasting. That is about the size of it.” - She ran out to tell her neighbors, and perhaps car a notification to the authorities. “ me, Luke,” said the detective, “let us get out of this while we can. There is much I have to say to you.” For better securit (he had by this time be- come distrustful of is own shadow, he led the way to a well-known open—air refreshment saloon on the southeast corner of the Third Avenue bridge over the Harlem It was six in the evening, the weather being sultry and oppressive. stout supports over a boat-float, at the water’s edge, which is here in reasonable weathers fue- ange-gasy, popular resort. two friends had the accommodations wholly to themselves for the timebeing. , Here, with the pleasure-boats lazily coming sounds o the neighboring brid and avenue the Gliding long fast with an elaborate fish and oyster dint account of his late astounding adventures. Jardine listened with such rapt attention I! only such a varied and hair-raisin could call forth to the fullest capacity. “ I wonder to see you alive!" was his simple comment at the close. “ It sounds like Bonn Trenck’s misfortunes, with the cream of “ I cannot but marvel at in own coca ” said Mainwaring, modestly. been a truism, as you know, that than fiction." “Of course, this Mrs. Bantincke, or wha- ever we must call her. will not venture tonp' at the mansion-house again.” sentment against the woman is undou 13: A few minutes later the erst-burning fabric . The saloon under consideration is erected on. fed at a table overlooking the walk, the ‘ almost and goin before their eyes, and with the tremo- ‘ only reachin their ears in a can used murmur. ., V etective proceeded to break his ner, while giving his friend and coadjutor a fun g nan-stir. ‘ Hag’gArd’s extravagant fictions, boiled into _ - one. ., “ at it has 3' factisstnnger “ Hardly. Whatever her faults, Issie’s ‘114 I V ‘ ~Maii'mraring, the Salamander." genuine. But apart from all this, let we bring you to the consideration of a particular ques- O I” “ What is that?” I “ By whom, and when, was that written warning, or menace, pinned to my coat?” Jardine knitted his brows. “ Not by the woman who passed you on the stairs,” said be, after a pause—“ not by Mrs. Bentincke. I feel certain of that.” “ So do I. But you have seen the writing. Scran as it is, no woman can have written it.” “ True. Let me think.” J ardine’s face suddenly lighted up}. “ I have it—I am sure of it. ut. in your present state of mind, you will scout the idea.” “ What idea?” “ As to who pinned on the writing.” “ Who do you think it was.” “ It isn’t so much a surmise as a conviction.” " Who did it?” “ Old Newthe.” Mainwarin; gazed at his friend in astonish- ment. “ Impossible! you are crazy!” . 1- “ I knew you would say just that.” " ‘ “ But I have tested him—he is as true as steel!” . “ I don’t believe it. He has been hoodwinking you from the word go.” Mainwaring reflected. He had great respect for his friend’s opinion, and there was no blinking certain things in sup— port of the one advanced. ' Still he could not come to believe that he had i: not tested the old man to the full and found him true. “ You would have me believe, then,” said he, ' slowly, “that the old fellow has been actually playing me into the hands of my enemies?” L ‘l‘l “ Well, as we should probably never agree on that point, we had better shift the subject.” “ Agreed, old fellow.” . “ Now, then, as to your part of the game in " hand.” “ Cut away!” “ How about your quarrel with Justine, and the odd causes she assigns for it?” And he recounted more fully his strange in- terview with the French maid. Jardine burst into a laugh. “ We’re friends again now,” said he, “ and the rent oddness in her story is easily ex- ” . . Before he could roceed, however, a strong- ” x f‘ built, much-beard man, in the garb of a sailor, (nicked his man-o’-war’s cap to them from the , float, just under the rail near which they were sitting, and asked if he might not take them for l ‘m. CHPTER XVI. . rm: BRIDGE-DRAW. .l. J v A marry]: was givin the man in reply, and flan the young men’s attention was directed to . fie Iwin g draw of the bridge, which was . than ing put in operation to let through a 4 small flotilla of barges in tow of a vigorously~ little tug. 4 . Butgthe sailor-looking fellow persisted in his A, Ye could enjo a flue sail afore the night V shut- down, gents, said he, in a voice that seein— .. ed tooome in jerks from the pit of his stomach, it was so rumbling and deep. “ See: you is my ’ mm, with as trim a craft as ye’ll find.” And he pointed to a heavy-set, somewhat older man, also much bearded, who was hover- ,‘ hfiga parently with a keen eye to business, in r“ a me boat just a little way off the fit at. “ We sha’n’t row to-ni ht, thank you,” re- ted Mainwaring, a litt e abruptly. “ Please m’t ask us again. v The man touched his cap submiSsively, and against one of the supports, looking out over the water with a disappointed air. “ I don’t altogether like that chap, nor his chum either,” observed Jardine, in a low Voice. detective, absently. “ Anything suspicious?” ‘; ‘_‘ Nothing on the surface; but remember the had tricks that have been played upon you in such, swift succession. One can’t be too watch- ey *“Of course not. But just observe the great ‘draw yonder, how smoothly and yet powerfully .' 5‘ iii-wings. There! it is open at last.” , There came the sharp clicking sound charac- " We of the Harlem Bridge draw in both ing and shutting, and the flotilla began to pl- thrOugh the assage. " Jardine had a so become interested afresh, ‘ ' and he, moreover, had a natural inclination for “works of engineering skill. “ ' “That bridge is a Wonder in its way,” said he. expatiatingly, “ but it is said to have some grave en nearing faults.” ~ , “ You out say so?” “ Yes: and one of the chief ones is the gar-ring , ’ juddonness With which the draw clicks ack in ‘ return. There' it is swinging back now. I 1! goes. e intervening lattieegates ‘ ' perly attended, either. Why, an passenger might havehisleg ripped “ What’s the matter with them!” asked the ' of! like a radish by those sharp connections in a jiffypi “ Foot passengers shouldn’t be unwary, you know.” “True; but they might be better protected against themselves. Hallo! another flotilla? There‘ll be another jam on the bridge-way, while waiting for that poky draw.” “ thieh won’t prevent, I trust, your going on with your explanation of that quarrel with Justine.” J ardine burst into a fresh laugh. “Why didn‘t you bring me back to my sheep before, as the Italians would say ?” he cried. “ Every man his own sheep-dog.” “ Well, there really wasn’t any quarrel at all ——at least, not on my part.” “ that! all that emotional business of the French girl’s purely unnecessary?” “ At least, superfluous; though 1 really meant her to believe that I was jealous.” “ What for?” .7 “ The deuce! to stir her up in that anticipated unbosoming of mysteries, which still hangs fire.” “ Ah! I begin to understand.” “ I’ve only allowed her to mollify my jealous fury on condition that she shall make a clean breast of it inside of 'a week’s time.” “ Better than nothing, surely; but I wish the time were shorter.” “ So do I, my boy; but better half a loaf than no bread.” “ The girl unquestionably loves you.” “ I’m sure of that.” “ Why then does she persist in deferring the promised rovolatioii?” Jardine grew grave. “Justine also loves her young mistress, Miss . Issie,” said he, after a pause. “But you don’t imagine that any confession of hers can possibly implicate ISsie iii—in the murders?” “ No, sir!” This very decidedly, while Mainwaring like- wise drew a long sigh of relief. Much as he felt that Issie’s passion might have wronged him, in the matter of the doubtful marriage, any proof of the beautiful girl having been an accomplice of the assassin would have dds-fluted his nature. “ What elucidation do you then hope to gain from the girl i” asked the detective. Jardine grasped his hand. “ Can’t you guess!” “ After a fashion. But answer my question. What do you expect to gain from Justine?” “ The truth as to which was the bride, and which is your wife, my boy.” Mainwariiig cordially returned the hand— cl . flustine is in possession of that secret, then?” “I feel sure of it.” “ And she promises its disclosure?” “ Inside of a week.” Mainwaring gave an inward groan. “ A week—it seems an age!” “ It is the best she will premise.” , “ But why will not her fidelity to her young mistress be as strong then as now?” - “ I am unable to say. Justine is a conun- drum.” “ Are not they all that—every woman of them?” Jardine laughed. “ I am afraid they are.” “ However, I feel encouraged.” “ You ought to.” “ Yes; for if Issie, and not Lois, did really be- come my bride, why should Justine, if truly her confidante, act in this conditional, protective sort (,i’f way with regard to the coming revela— tion? “That is the way it strikes me. And yet——” “ And yet what?” with renewed anxiety. “And yet, in the mean time, there remains ‘ Lois’s, steadfast and indignant denial on her part. “ True!” And, with knitted brows, the detec- tive brought his fist down heavily upon a corner of the dish-covered table. “By Heaven! it is exas rating—it is bewildering.” “ etter think of something else, then.” “ Think of something else! How can I? Was ever man so bewilderineg entangled and im- meshed before? Not to know which of two fas- cinating girls he has been married to!” “ It is tough.” “ The one eager to claim him as the bride— groom of the occasion, and he not able to re- spond to her passion!” l6 fl . “The other, while perhaps also loving him, 'ust as earnest in denying the marriage, and 9 ready to lay down his life for her i” “ It is un recedented.” “ You cal them conundrums. They’re worse than that—riddles. enigmas, sphiuxes!” ‘ “You can still get no Word of our truant ofllciating rson and his wife?” “Notaline nota syllable! This disappear- ance of the old lawyer—the custodian of Mr. Calthorpe’s later Will, as I feel persuaded—is scarce] in‘itself more absolute and unaccOunt— able. ittle good might it do me in my quan- da even were it otherwise!” “ on are right. The mysterious bride’s vail v i i i l I ! was not raised. How should Mr. Quackenbush or his wife he better able to identify her for a certainty than we?” There was another groan from the detective, this time an audible one. “ Then you are still convinced.” pursued Jar. dine, most willng to vary the to ic, “ that the later will is in the missing lawyer s possession?” “ I haven‘t a lingering doubt of it.” In spite of Mrs. Bentincke’s declaration that she found and destroyed it?” The detective snapped his fingers contemptu- ouslv. “ That for her declaration! It was her most natural lie under the villainous circumstances.” “ Yet you believe in her having contrived the double murder, in accordance with her confes~ sion to you in the boat?” “ Yes: I must needs believe that.” is why?” “ My life was in the hollow of her hand—she thought my death as good as an accomplished fact. She could, therefore. afford to taunt me with a true confession of the crime.” “ True, but, under the same circumstances, why should she have thought it worth while to lie to you in the less criminal matter—the de- struction of the later will?” Mainwaring pondered the question. “ Probably,” he answered at last, “ to help a cup; her daughter’s claim upon me, in the vaguely possible event of my escaping the mur- derous doom designed for me.” J ardine shrugged his shoulders. “ Oh, that won’t do!” said he. “The admis- siou of the same possibility on her part would have just as naturally hindered her confession as have prompted the falsehood. It won’t work." The detective made an exasperated gesture, as if to dash aside a bewildering network. “ Enough of it—to the deuce with it all, at least for the present!” “ lVith all my heart!” _ “ To return to Justine—so you only pretended to be jealous!” 0‘ Yes.” “ But why of ‘ Mr. Deegby.’ and, above all, of Lois’s father, Mr. Reuben Calthorpe? What grqiinds had you to build a pretense of jealousy on. J ardine gave another laugh. “ Hardly any at all, I must confess. I had seen Digby exchan ring a few words in the gar— den with her, and t en Mr. Calthorpe question— ing her shortly afterward. It was all plain enou rh to me.” “ Iiow did vou explain it?” “ Just as Justine did subsequently. Digby had been trying to pump the girl with regard to her relations with me. Mr. Calthorpe had seen them together, and was just as desirous of pumping her with regard to what Digby had {lad to say, for he is in mortal fear of the fel- ow. “ And you pretended to think that they were complimenting your sweetheart too highly on her ood looks?” “ es. And the pretense answered my pur- , after a fashion, as l have shewn you. But what was that jarring motion, think you!” The flooring, upon which a number of others had by this time assembled for eating and drinking, had unmistakably trembled. “ More likely the action of the waves than of an earth uake,” replied Mainwaring, compos- ' edly. “ e; that industrious bridge is opening for a fresh flotilla. It is the fourth time, since we have been sitting here." Here the saloon floor shook a ain. “What can have becomeo that big sailor chap who was so persnstent about giving us a pleiisuring?” said Jardine, looking down a little curiously over the rail. “ He was still leanin against one of the supports there a momen a o. “ Perhaps he has slipped underneath to be a snack from one of the kitchen hands. at what did he amount to? There’s a prettier sight out yonder. What a lovely pair of boys!” Maiuwaring pointed to a graceful rowboat that was idling near in the pleasant twilight. The occupants—two handsome lads in beating costume, apparently sixteen or seventeen, the one dark, the other fair—were resting upon their ears, and seemingly gazing up at the young men with unusual curiosity. “ Ah, pretty enough, perhaps,” assented Jar- dine, absently. “But what the can find to iii- tcrest them so much in our irection I can’t imagine. Ha! that jara ain. Let‘s be getting out of this, old fellow. I ve heard before that thej pavilion is deemed somewhat insecure, an - The sentence was never finished, for at that instant there was a shock, a uavering to and fro, a splinterin crash, and the entire outer edge of the pay] ion was shunted bodily into the river. CHAPTER XVII. A MODERN sansos. THE float under the saloon had been submerged by the weight of the falling abric, rtly ' , mainWaring,the Salamander. 15 and this, by furnishing a wet and slippery sort of chute, bad facilitated the completeness of the catastrophe. Mainwarlng, Jardine and several others who had been seated near the rail were struggling in the water amid the debris of the ruin, w ich, however, had fortunately been composed, bar- ring the flooring itself, of light and fragile material. “Curse that sailor chap!” 3 uttered Jardine, floundering about. “ Purpose y or not, he must have knocked away those supports. I think I could swear to it!” “ There he is now, in the boat with his chum i” cried Mainwaring. “ After them! There may be fresh villainy at the bottom of this.” And he forthwith struck out after the boat in uestion, eagerly followed by his friend, for t ey were both expert Swimmers, and the water Eves warm enough to afford a grateful sensa— ion. The two handsome lads eagerly sculled their shell in the same direction, as if to offer assist- ance. But they were roughly signed by the swim- mers to lend their aid to others in greater need of it, while the pursuit of the boat containing the sailor and his friend was continued. The latter, however, had succeeded in effect- in a landing at the southern abutment of the bridge. and, abandoning their boat, were run- nigg up the stone steps. ainwaring and J ardine, dripping but do- termincd,Were following remorselessly, the chase bein now transferred to dr land. “ ead oi! those men!” ye led Jardine. “They contrived the thing—they are responsible for the accident!” But the words were unheard or unheeded, and then pursued and‘ ‘pursuers were among the jam on the bridgeway. The whistle had again sounded, however, the gates were about being shut, and the draw was once more trembling on the turn, causing the crowd to surge back. Both the runaways bounded through the gate out n n the draw. “After t em l” gamed Mainwaring. on the gum wit . “Once them, their escape is im- 9. But at this instant he was suddenly pounced u - on by the fugitives, knocked down, and his body thrown on the dividing line, so that it should be out into by the edge of the draw, already on the swing. Horror-struck, no less than mystified, the tekeeper swore while the crowd yelled, push- this wa and that. at Ja 0 had sprung, like a tiger to his rincipal’s assistance. Supported by a rough ut honest-looking laboring man. The would-be murderers were pressed back, and the detective torn from his perilous position almost at the last instant. Not quite the last, though. The generous laboring man at this critical juncture, furiously throttled by the sailor’s companion, was jerked forward with an oath. He fell headlong over upon the last corner of the swinging draw. Both his were cut off at the ankle, the severed mam rs falling into the river, the uivering body being carried, together with t e infamous agents of the traged , around upon the draw, beyond the reach of immediate assistance! The horror that ensued among the spectators of this appalling scene is simply indescribable. Women fainted by the dozen, and strong men wept, wringing their hands and tearing their hair. To add to the dramatic element of the scene, the two scoundrels made no effort to succor their victim. but were presently seen to 'ump into the river from the other end of the raw, after which they were not seen again. in The bridge was, fortunately, soon made con- 'nuous once more, and the poor sufferer laced inthe charge of a hospital surgeon, wh‘i) had been summoned with an ambulance. But the man had already lost so much blood as to be hopelessly beyond aid. He had, however, a few moments of conscious- ness before expirin . Raisin his heat? from the improvised pillow that ha been placed under it by the surgeon and his assistant, he fastened his eyes upon the Gliding Detective with a devouring look. llfliinwaring was bending at his side in an in- “ I’ve saved you ag’inl” gasped the sufferer. :ngn?oumo§eoohmave I tigenflthntiist between you —-ony e rst me itwas m do’gi1 stead of me. Don’t you remember?” y a detective started back. Wonderful fatality. Yea; sure enough, now he recalled that face— the face of the unknown workman whose (1 had perished under the vitriol shower in frond)? the agency build . Obedient to ano forwm reign, he once more bent ‘ Founded strictly upon fact a similar traged having actually occu ‘ y , mPAmW. rred at Harlem Bridge several . l “ You weren’t to blame—an’ it don’t differ much,” were the closing articulations. “ I ain’t . got no fam’ly or friends to cr over me. Even l my dog—last friend I had— ’m jest a-follerin’ l him—that's all 1” ‘ He was dead. “ Did you know the man, sir?” asked the sur— geon. The Gliding Detective had arisen, pale and 3 hag ard, but collected. ‘ I did not,” he truthfully replied. “ I had 5 seen the poor fellow once before, but did not L know his name.” ‘ Here there was an outcr that the miscreants who had leaped from the raw had been seen to 1 scramble into a boat, and row lip-stream. ‘ As Mainwaring and Jardine dashed back to 1 the landing, for the purpose of continuing the pursuit by water, they were rather timidly E called upon by a lad, who was slipping his way ! sinuously through the crowd. It was the darker of the two picturesque boys whom they had noticed just previous to the fall of the pavilion. He laid his hand on Mainwaring’s arm. “ My chum and I have a splendid boat, sir,” said he, “ and we are at our service.” A double assenting n was the response. A few moments later the were seated in the stern of the row-boat, whic was being rapidly propelled upl the glooming river by the young oarsmen, w 0 proved themselves both vigorous and expert. The twilight had deepened, but the glimmer- ing of the watery expanse was visible for a con- siderable distance ahead: and the view included ‘ a clumsy-looking craft that was running away as fast as its brace of occupants could paddle it. “ There they are!” cried Mainwaring. “I think so, too,” echoed Jardine, bending 5 forward and straining his e es. “ Oh, let us ‘ but once get in reach of those ounds again l” l The oarsman next to them—the darker of the ‘ youths—nodded his head. E “If they stick to the river,” said he, in his ‘ gentle and musical voice “ we shall row them down, Eh, 'Pauli” And e looked back over his shoulder at his fairer companion. ‘ The latter bowed his head a little lower in the ‘ dimness, and murmured a reply that was not audible to the passengers, as‘ the detective and his assistant might be called. The dark youth burst into a low laugh. “ That stands to reas-n,” said be, adding ex- plainingly, as he turned his face again to the f others: ‘ You gentlemen will have to do the i fighting, if any is to be done. That’s what ‘ Paul means.” 5 “I didn’t say that, Ralph,” protested the ! other, a. little more audibly. = “ It’s about what you meant, though,” cried I Ralph. “And I don t blame you, for fighting ? with wn—up desperadoes is no more to my , taste t an to yours.’ l “ We’ll attend to that rt, should it be on the g programme,” said Jar 'ne, reassuringly. “ I i suppose you young fellows belong to one of the : boating clubs hereabouts?” “ What makes you think so—because we are so amateurish?” asked Ralph. - “ no means but just the contrary.” “ ou find no fault with our ‘ form, then?” “ You row superbly.” “Still,” interposed the detective, “ we are the g older and stronger, and might take the young i gentleman‘s places at the cars.” There was a duet of dissent. “ No, no!” protested the darker youth. " We are still fresh, and can, moreover, hold our own i with the best. B the way, sir, are you no l Worse for your fal back yonder on the bridge!” His dark eyes glowed sympathetically through the gzlmm as he spoke. “ one the worse,” was the rather abrupt re- ply. “The Villains flung themselves upon me unexpected] , or the result would have been ; different. oweVer, but for the tragic fate of ‘5 that poor fellow who was thrown across the ’ draw in mg plumb” He clinc ed his hands, and came to an inar- » ticulate pause. 1 “ It was horrible,” murmured the lad, with a 1, shudder, “ inconceivany horrible l” { His companion lowered his head, with some- - thin that sounded very like a convulsive sob. “ ynfriend”a3d figure to kill—Twiend especia y so, ar ne g tlv inte in order to vary the subject. “ Even the spilling ‘ of us into the river (1 dn’t discompose us to an : alarming extent.” 3 “ Ah! the overthrow of the pavilion?” cried . Ralph. “ What a strong man that sailor must i he—little short of a modern Samson, I should say pa . 1 ‘Whatl ou saw it, then?” I “ Certain Paul and I were looking over the float an under the pavilion.” “ An ou saw the sailor chap drag away the f suppo , C " More plainly than we are seeing you now. Didn’t we, Paul?” Paul nodded an assent, accompanied by his ‘ wonted unintelligible murmur, from behin . l He seemed to test the supporting timbers. first,” continued Ralph, “as if to see which - were the most rotten andinsecurealong the' I . way outer line. Then he suddenly seized two, one in the hollow of either arm, and bowed his head between them, before we could fully realize his villainous intention. Then there was a crash, and the thing was done.” “ But how did he manage to escape the ruin he had wrought?” demanded the detective. “ That is what I can’t understand.” “ You would, if you had seen it as we did. The man’s back was to the water, and he darted back under the building as the outer edge came thundering down over the float. That was the he escaped.” “ Did he rejoin his chum in the boat imme- diately?" “ Not at once, but a few moments later. We next saw them after they had deserted their boat, and were flying up the stone steps, with you gentlemen at their heels.” “ So. And this boat they are now in is an- other one, is it not?” “Yes: a fresh one, doubtless picked up by chance, and a. poor tub at that. See; we are’ fast overhauling them. Let us put on a spurt, Paul!” This was accordingly done, and very effec- tivel . Th); chase had now passed under the railroad bridge, the Madmen avenue bridge, and far up the narrowing river, with the majestic arches of High Bridge dimly discernible in the back- ground. “ Give way! give way!” cried Ralph, excited- ly. “Keep up this pace, and we shall have them dead in less than five minutes.” The detective and his companion took this op- portunity to examine their revolvers. which. I were found to be in good order, notwithstand- ing their immersion. But at this 'uncture the fugitives, doubtles unwilling to risk a struggle on the water, took to the northern shore, which at this point is bold and precipitous. The pursuers, however, effected a landing scarcely a minute later, and then the chase was resumed down the track of the New York and Northern Railroad. ’ The fugitives turned once to fire severalin- , TY; fectual shots, and then, dashing to one side, dis- red in the direction of a small house [:erch- / a ed, against the bluff, with the ringing hill upon one side and a narrow swamp— ot on the other. It resently became certain that they had on- te this housebwhich was accordingly invest- «j. ed, so to speak, y the pursuers with no delay. Mainwaring and Jardine thrust a spare re- volver, each, into the hands of their young com-. panions. _ “ Are you afraid to use these in an emergency!” demanded Mainwaring. stand guard?” _ There was a. moment’s hesitation, but the r youths accepted the weapons. “ Yes,” said Ralph, answering for both. “ At . all eVents, we’ll do our best.” ‘ Without another word, the young men up the tall steps leading to the rock-pe shanty, and burst unceremoniously into on. 'd. the two rooms it contained. Then their first impulse was to start back astonishment. The fugitives were not among the gran the lighted room. but prominent among of the Mariner’s Rest, and her my muffled companion of the nig t before. RegardleSS of the intrude drawn wea Mrs. Bentincke darted forward, shutting bolting the door behind them. Simultaneous] , Ralph’s youthful voicem ‘ out in warning rom outside and below. “ out! the modern Samson’s at work And this was folIOWed by the strokes of an ax, , which caused the shanty to tremble. Even the original inmates started up in may" sternation now. But the impending catastrophe was past avcrtv’ in . In another instant the house had turned a complete somerset down the bluff, bury .ib chimney-stack into the swampmud, and eke ing the remnant of its timber—supports, ' a. or own giant’s heels, into the air. . ~ CHAPTER XVIII. rm: ovnarnnows SHANTY. . , Tms extraordinary catastro he was accomo, panied by several shots outsi e of the ill-faintl.’ domicile, indicatin that the youths who had” ' been placed on gu there were exhibiting me sort of activit at least. ’ ‘ 5 , tobethe case as soonasthede- nion managed to scramble i crib, which they were the This prov tective and his com out of the caper first to do, availing themselves of the cellar, : door to that end.~ h, Ralph and Paul were then seen to be standing . with their backs to a rook, while the wielder of the ax, who proved to beiden- tical with the destroyer of the restaurant pa ion and was threatenineg advancing upon V ‘ with uplifted weapon. ‘ He seemed to treat with contempt the which they held, point-downward, in their nu!!- less hands. ‘ ‘. . . But the two detectives werenot slow “Canwetrustyoutof; if! , in r 3 were—Mrs. Bentincke, the fat ex-rizggiim ,v‘ y . 16 tin themselves down the side of the house, and rus ing to the rescue. “ Surrender!” cried Mainwaring. “ Scoun— drel, your Samsonian days are at an end!” The ruflian backed away from themnwhereat the bravery of the youths returned. They also brought their revolvers to bear, and he was fa1rly between two fires. “ Give me a show,” he growled. “ It isn’t the square thing.” Jardine laughed scornfully. “ A pretty hound you are, to talk of fair play!” he cried. “ Surrender, or your blood be on your own head 1” Here, however, there was a warning scream from the youths, and the detectives Were sud- denl attacked by the other inmates of the cap- size house, who had just eifected their escape therefrom, and were armed with cudgels and knives. Without venturing to use their pistols as yet, the detectives managed to kcep the new-comers at bay with their drawn gistols, while edging around so as to still cover t e man with the ax. “ Upon them i” hissed Mrs. Bentincke, be- tween her teeth. “ If these men have not charmed lives, let us rove it now and here. " It is our only chance. ill them! kill them!” She was armed with a glittering poniard, and her mien was that of a fury. But the detectives were by no means intimi- dated by her words, and a diversion in the situ- ation at this moment rendered it yet more inter- esting. I The fairer of the lads, watching his opportu- nity, suddenly sprung forward and plucked the ax-wielder by the heard. It came off in his hand, revealing the features of Carolus Digby. “ So, this is the double—part you play?” thun- “dered Mainwaring, hurling himself upon him. fistiglain, your mystery must be solved at 80 unexpected was the attack that Digby, in ite of his su ior brute strength—which was 1y prodi ous—was overthrown. Then (wh' e Jardine still ke t the desperate ng at bay) his adversary’s nee was on his" hmst, the muzzle of the cocked revolver at his “ Yield, or die i" Di by looked up coolly at his vanquisher. “ member the railroad cut!” said he. “ Or have you forgotten how I saved your life there? The detective had forgotten it in the excite- ment of the moment. A He sullen] turned his weapon aside, and arose rom the prostrate man. “ till, you are my prisoner,” he said. “ You shall explain the contradictions of your actions toward me.” A hearse laugh from the other was his only answer. In another instant Carolus had shaken OR the ,Oppressive knee, spr , g to his feet, and the ax . was swung aloft in powsrful hands. “ Shoot if you dare!’ he elled. “Curse you! it’s in turn now. Surrcn er, you I” > “ '1] them! kill them l” screamed Mrs. Ben- . tincke afresh. “It is our only chance. Spare them not!” , Instantly there was a general rush upon the A surrounded detectives, the two lads having again com lately lost their nerve. “ k to back!” sung out the Gliding Deteo 1 “If they insist on cold lead, why, at them = have it.” ' ._ Still it might have gone hard with them, but for help that sudden! came. ' This was in the orm of Old Newthe, who ' abruptly rush upon the scene. apparent! dealing dest ctive blows right and left wit ‘~ his stout oudgel to the extent that the common enemy were speedily put to flight, including Di‘gt‘iylliimself. L at, Newthe, old stand-by!” cried Main- waring, clutching the old mans hand. “You ‘ in place me in your debt." :: gon’fiment‘iioln it, sink; .1 h ut ow you ppen ong ere, too, in‘the nick of time?” . “ It’s a long story. sir' too long for the pre- sent. You must remember, though, that this ain’t a-plaguey big distance from the scene of "your morning’s adventure, in which I had the good—luck to figure. However—” He came to an em pause, for Jardine ‘ had not tendered him any greeting. " Moreover, the darker of the youths was lean- ing forward, and searching his face with startled es. .y"The same! the same!” muttered the boy under his breath. “ I could swear to it.” Before Mainwaring could comment on the strange scene. Old Newthe had seized his hand, ,‘ it warmly, muttered a few hasty words, , , and disc peared up among the rocks. “ “Let im go, Guy.” said Jardine, coldl . “ You will hear from that old hypocrite again whenqyou least expect it. Have no fear as to . ‘ “ What do you mean?" 'i“8imgy'that he was in collusion withour .23 ghathis coming to our rescuewss a m. * amination. ,Mainwaring, the Salamander. “ I think so, too,” said Ralph. “ I have reason ,1 '“What reason can you have for distrusting anyway. That wasnt The rustic scratched his head. “Well, she burnt up, bottom up. all the same, the worst of it either. that man, young sir?” demanded Mainwaring a Eilliley’ve found a dead man at the foot of the little angrily. “I have seen him once before.” “ When and where?” “That 1 cannot tell you—not just now, at , that. l and taken the belt. least.” Something like groans came to their ears from down the hill. Proceeding in that direction. they found the rroams to be given vent to by the rufflanly old alstaff of the Mariner‘s Rest. Owing to his enormous bulk and weight, he had suffered fatal injuries by a fall down the bluff, and had then been deserted by his fleeing companions. At this juncture the overturned shanty took fire. In a few moments it was wrapped in flames, which brightly illuminated the group. and shed their glare for a long distance through the dark- ness. The injured man’s back was broken, and it was evident that his sands were nearly run. He particularized the Gliding Detective by a feeble sign, and called out in dislocated sen- tences: ' “ I’m done for, mister. But I hadn’t no to treat you‘ as I did, and I’m sorry for “ You shall carry my forgiveness with you, if you’ll only make a clean breast of your connec- tion with the gang that are pursuing me so re- lentless] ,” said the detective gravely. “ Can t do that. Honor among thieves, you know. But this I can tell you. I‘m not the cuss they played me off onto you for.” “You’re not old Tom Grimsby, then?” “Not by a durned si ht. And no relation to that she-devil either, t ank God! Bad as I’ve been, I never got so low as that. But this is nothin’. That missing lawyer what’s gotvthe missin’ will—” u Yes, yes In The detective was bending eagerly forward, as the moribund came to a gasping “ He—he—is still alive, mister, ut crazy— clean gone in his head—an’ hidden away in ob-. scurity by that—that she-devil and her hus- band. “Where? Tell me where?” “ Old log house—— Sleepy— Slee-slee-Sleepy Holler!” He was dead! “ Come,” said the boy Ralph. The fire is at- tractin a crowd. Many Ee‘cple are hurrying along’t e railroad -track. t us be off.” Pu licity seemed equally undesirable to all of At all events, they all made a common rush to the lace where they had left the boat, and hurri ly crowded into it. When a few yards from the shore, a stream of water bigger than a man’s arm began to spout up through the bottom of the craft. “Back oarsi’ called out Mainwaring, stop- ping the leak as well as he could after a brief ex- “ We’re tricked again. The villains have scuttled her, and then plugged up the breach temporarily with clay.” CHAPTER XIX. ’ HIGH names. Tan detecthe’s words proved to be the truth. The fine row-boat was hopelessly ruined for future use. However, a landing was speedily effected with- out any one getting very wet. en after a brief cons‘ltation, the party made their way alon up he river, keeping well under the rai embankment at first, to avoid observation on the of those who had been attracted to the neig borhood of the burn- in shanty. igh Bridge was the most convenient river- cross ng and they had decided to avail them- selves of it. Arriving presently at the entrance to this lofty structure, the rested themselves as if composing a bela pleasuring pa until a young count man chanced along on return rom the can a tion, when Mainwaring took it u n himself question him. “ hat building was it that burnt?” he asked. “A deserted shanty, where a railroad hand murdered his wife last year,” was the graphic re 1 . 9‘ $10 one was living there at this time, than?” “ Well, not exactly sir. But a man and woman rented it about three weeks ago. and they do as there’s been (iueer doings there since.” “ hat sort of do ngs?” “Irregular comings and goings—meetings of strange gangs now and then— mysterious goings- on, you now. Some set ’em down for counter- feiters, others for forgers, but every one was afraid of ’em.” “ How did it catch fire?” “ gy turnin upside down." “ ou’re jo ing.” “:No, I’m not. It was that teetery on the blufl-side that a big wind might blow it over, for that matter.” , “ But there has been no wind tic-night.” “ A dead man?” “ Yes, boss: and a mighty fat dead man, at He might have hired out to old Barnum, Haw, haw, haw! Mebbe he set fire to the roost before breaking his back- bone. But nobody knows nothin’.” He was not questioned further. “ Another link in the conspiracy 1” said Main- waring, turning moodin to Jardine, after the countryman had passed on. “ The shanty has doubtless been used as a secret rendezvous by Mrs. Bentincke and her male accomplices ever since the Rose Hill murders.” J ardine nodded. “ What do you think of the scrap of informa- tion furnished by the dying fat man?” he asked. “ Much may be made of it, scant as it was. I used to be partly familiar with Sleepy Hollow—- up in Westchester, near Tarry town, you know." “ Good!” said Jardine. “ As stematic search for the missing lawyer in that ocality ought to be next in order. ’ Mainwaring was about to answer when his attention was attracted to his young compan- ions by the excited interest they were manifest- ing in the conversation. This was e cially noticeable of Ralph, the darker lad, w 0 had been listening with pain— ful eagerness. “ My young friends,” said he, with quiet kindliness, “it is perhaps time that we should know more of one another. My friend and I are private detectives, on dangerous duty bent.” It was an invitation toconfldence that was not acce ted with avidit . ‘ e’ve had proo senoRlfih of your being on dangerous duty,” said ph, with a smile. “,And now we are going home—alone, too; that is the worst of it.” And he exchanged an uneasy glance with his fairer companion. “ Ah!” observed Jardine; “ perhaps your mother doesn’t. know you're out, then?’ “ Mine doesn’t, at least,” replied Ralph, grave- 1yz “ because I haven’t any.” ‘ What! you are not brothers, then!” “ No sir; nor in any way related to each other, hough our homes are not far a rt." “We’re not of age yet ” Paul sai , in alow voice. “ We are not used to being out so late at night." This was so artlessly said, and the timidity avowed was so unusual in American lads of even tenderer a 9 than the youths appeared to have attained, t at both the young men smiled, perhaps a little pityingl . However, they oil to escort the lads as far as their home. This offer, after much hesitation and some private consultation, was finally accepted. “ Still,” sug ested Mainwaring, as the party proceeded on t air way, “ you youn gentlemen might confide in uses to who an what you “ Might but sha’n’t,” said Ralph, laughing— “ at least for the present.” “ That settles it ” observed the detective, good-naturedly. “ let us. be moving a little more briskly.’ This was acted upon, the magnificent flagged romenade over the immense water-mains of i h Bridge being rather conducive to brisk w 'ng, especially by night, with little of the fine surrounding scenery to distract one’s atten- tion. Still, the night had turned fluctuatingly dark with only occasional glimpses of the moon and stars. This, together with the somber loneliness of the hour, and the consciousness of the great depth of the river-gorge under their feet, tend- ed to render their progress more uncertain than it mi ht otherwise have been. “ ot since in boyhood have I crossed High Bridge before,’ said Jardine, reflectively, as the party approdched the middle of the bridge. “ The t mains were not bricked over then. People had to walk down below between them, and i remember that they were much higher than a tall man’s head.” “ High Bridge was ndt‘mch a pleasure resort then ” remarked Mainwarin . u how high is it!" asked h. “ A hundred and sixty feet a vs the river at low tide, if I remember {1 htly.” “It is one of the big est viaducts in the world, is it not?” “I .don’t know about that. High enough, though, and dangerous .enough, too, to daunt most of the professional Jumpers, I believe. You see—" He was abruptly interrupted by a knot of shadowy figures suddenly sprm‘ ging into the path from an angle of the parapet. With only this much warning, the party were once more attacked before a weapon could be drawn. “ Back to ack i” was once more the (3qu Detective’s w -cry,_as he knocked down the foremost assailant With a stunning len— , while reaching for his revolver. It’s the sun. t "I a": "new; .1 “U. ,, I ‘ x, “H .V, and,“ .1 > c ’. I 5 $1.5 . I .. .4 .1. H". ’7: ~ .‘xvii, . ': ‘. ‘li‘ ,.VI.‘.'~, .1" :‘1 .“ M :2. 5;“,- . r 17 'I waring, the Salamander. old gang ambuscading us. Stand fast, my hea i'ties l” The fight at once grew fast and furious, not- withstanding that the detective group were out- numbered more than three to one. Mrs. Bentwicke did not offer to take an ac- tive part on this occaswn, but stood by quietly only occasionally prompting her followers, an seeming grandly statuosque in the uncertain li rht. fglint the two boys, who had retained the pistols lent to them, began to pop away with them, showing thereby an improvement on their pre- vious timidity, though aiming for the most part . over the assailants’ heads. The two detectives were also doing effective work, though likewise loth to use their firearms. But odds Would, nevertheless, have prevailed, if Old Newthe had not once more mysteriously appeared upon the scene, bringing his redoubt- a dc single-stick powers into pla '. This he did with such vim an vigor that the ruflians were beginning to beatii retreat, not— withstanding the taunts and jH'l‘S of their woe manleader, when an unlocked-for incident again seemed to place the advantage in their favor. Carolus Digby, who had thus far ke t his gigantic strength in the background. su denly sprung upon Maiuwaring like an avalanche. The latter, as has been seen, was nothing like his match in sheer brute strength, though fully his equal in skill and manage. After a brief but tremendous struggle, he was overborue. The next instant he was carried to the ridge of the parapet, and it became sufficiently evi- , dent that his powerful antagonist was endeavor- ing to hurl him into the fiawning abyss. ‘Hang on to him, uy!” yelled Jardine. “ Hang on 1“ At the same time he fired, but his aim, being disturbed by the fear of hitting his friend, sent the bullet wide of its intended mark. for Ralph and Paul, they seemed to have me suddenly paralyzed by the ril of their chief leader; leaving Luke and 0 d Newthe to do all the work in keeping the assailants still at ha . Then there was a double shout, a double yell. The two men were seen struggling for an in- stant on the extreme edge of the parapet. “Then they toppled over, disappearing into the ySS. CHAPTER XX. nan ann racrs. . A car of horror had broken from the email- ants, no less than from the beast pa . with the sin lo exce tion of the woman, who re- main motio essand silent. Then they were seen in general flight, back :lhong the bridgeway toward the Westehester ore. A squad of licemen were c ' upon the scene from he opposite direction. This explained the sudden panic that had taken hold of the rumans and their woman leader. Jardine rushed forward, and uic‘tly ex lain- ed something of the nature of t 0 attack the roundsman heading the charge. Four officers were at once sent in pursuit of the fugitives. Those remaining, two in number, accom- panied the'youths and J ardine the whole party osinfi no time in reaching the foot of the bridge on t 0 New York, or.rather the Manhattan Island shone. Old Newthe had once more affected one of his 0021“ disappearances. swimmer was just crawl' out n n the turfy bank of the river. mg po It proved to be the Gliding Detective. He shook himself in a manner to indicate that he was but little the worse for his plun . Then he modestly acce ted the congratu a- tions of his friends, and s ook hands with the officers, with whom he chanced to have a per- sonal acquaintance. “ Where is the other one?" asked Jardine. “Dead, like enough,” was the reply. “At all events, we went down in a death-lock, and he struck the water flrst—back-foremost.” “ That ought to have broken his back,” salt; Jardine, cheerfully. "‘ Let us hope that it did._ But here one of the policemen pointed out over the gloomy water. A man was seen climb up into a tch of moonlight on theppposite re, and t e infer- ence was strong that it was none other than Mfiinwafln s desperate antagonist. That to 0: is the strongest man I ever got in the glrip of. commented the detective, slow- 1%.“! ewtybegautoremce their to t 9 head of tbs bridge. “He seems a of steel reaan thereisapecullarit inhis wrestling-grip that is unique n in; we .y" eroundsinan, a veteran ofioer, ooked up intprested y. 2. What, is its peculiarity?" he area I don t know as I can describe it accurately. But it seems as though, when his bold has been taken! ‘5th W a sort of bunching out of each wrist into a solid knob, that di bruisineg into neshandboneuifniadoontofi‘solidgranite." The roundsman slapped his leg. “ I know him !” he ejaculated. “ There is but one criminal who, to my knowledge, ever pos- sessed that wrestling dodge, and this chap must be the same.” “ Whom do you refer to?” “ To Cracksumn Charley—a professional bur- glar, once a shining headlight in the old Tom Grinisby gang, but of late years lost sight of.” “ Hallo!” exclaimed “ More da 'liglit, and it’s welcome enough file then began to tell the officers as much of the complicated case in hand as he thought it prudent for them to know. While thus engaged, a touch on either hand attracted his attention. Paul, the fair youth, had touched his left hand, as if in assure himself of the man having really escaped his last deadly peril, and then drawn back, as if startled at his own temerity. The touch on the other hand was Ralph’s, and it still lingered there, while the lads great black eyes dwelt with grave earnestness upon the face that was for an instant kindl turned toward him, in acknowledgment of e sympathetic feeling that was proffered. Arriving at the head of the bridge, they met the rest of the squad, who had just returned from an unsuccessful chase. “They can run better than they can fl ht,” grumbled one. “ Even the old gel at their ead could discount 8. professional runner on a long race in spite of her long skirts and cry.” “I ro securing a carriage,” sai Ralph, at this uncture. “ There ought to be some hotel-eta lee near here where one can be rocurb ed. and Paul and I propose to pay for it.’ No objection was offered to this proposition, and, after some difficulty, a coach was ob- tained. Ralph gave the driver his directions in a low vows, and the rt of four were soon on their way back to ar em, a localit in which the 1:31:th already stated that t ey likewise re- s . “ I suppose I on ht to feel exhausted b to- night’s unusual even ,” said Ralph, “but t is not so with me. Perhaps it is the excitement of it all that keeps me up.‘ “ That will also tire you when you have grown used to it,” Jardine took itu n himself to re- “ In what part of Her do you young ows live?” “ After we have been driven there,_ you. gen; Mainwaring. m tlemen can give the driver your own ions, said the lad, evasively. “You are non-committal enou h, if on are lively in other respects,” was ardine 3 rather discontented comment. The lad made no reply, and after this hardly the exchange of a dozen syllables before the des- tination was reach “ Why, it is Rose Hill i” exclaimed Jardine, in undi ised astonishment. Then ainwaring awoke to a similar sense of amazement. The lads had tripped out of thecoach, paid the driver, and then slipped into the garden, where they appeared to be waiting. As the truth suddenly flashed upon the youn men, they were not slow to take the hint, an [Ol'll‘chw iihlm' h pod d e r ver w ip up, an disappeared, with a sleepy good-night. As the youn men were enterin the t gate, a gracefu figure slipped out of ts sha ows and confronted one of them. It was the French maid, Justine, and it is needless to add that her appearance left Main- tvzaiéin free to proceed into the garden unat- n The pretended boys were standing in the full moonlight, with bowed faces and nervously- working bands. As the still astonished detective advanced, the fairer, With a face on fire, and ' ful of his implori gesture, broke away in a species of ale, and d appeared in the house. h sage, hpgever—h: 6 2:2?th have in ted or eat ere t H or groun h still with averted face. ’8 “It’s no use my trying to express my sur- prise” Mainwaring blurted out. “ I’m not equal to it." “ Don’t try then. But confess that our parts were acted with some degree of cleve ’ “ Indeed, they were! What could h ve in- duced you to such a masquerade?” “ First tell me do you deem it an immodest one?" She took of! her achting hat asshe spoke, causing her raven air to shower in ringleu down over her shapely shoulders. For the rest, her a mirably-fitting costume of dark navy blue was anyth but immodest notwithstanding its masculinity, and for all that it betra ed the robust maidenlineos of her t‘perfect éure to the most charming ad- van age. “ By no means,” replied the detective. grave- ly. ‘ It wouldn’t be so much a amnion of modesty asof propriety—to say a ' g of its unlawfulness.” “ Confess, then b, that our masquerading has stood you in goodgstead tonight.”- .\ “I am glad to confess it! And I ask again, what could have prompted you to assume it?” ” A knowled e of your approaching peril.” “ Of course, {gum once more, and infinitely, a debtor to yourself and Lois. So is Jardine. But how Could you have foreseen our peril?” “ I shall tell you that, and much more pres- ently. “'ill you wait here for me?” “ Vith all my curiosity !” He might have said “ heart,” instead of “ curiosity,” and she was tperhaps disappointed that he did not, as she itted away into the house. The detective seated himself wearin in a con- venient rustic seat. Ashe did so, two lurkers in the shrubbery on either side, probably unconscious of each other’s vicinity, surveyed him with furtive looks. One of these lurkers in the shadow was Reuben Calthorpe, Lois’s father. The other was the strange character who has become known to the reader as Old Newthe. CHAPTER XXI. Issm MAKES SOME REVELATIONS. WHEN lssie returned, which she did very quickly, it was in her own proper self, and so strikingly beautiful that the detective could scarcely su press an ejaculation of praise for it, accusz as he had become to the many fasci- nating phases to which her beauty was sus- ceptible. . _ O A gown of soft, clingin material. and sno whiteness, in keeping wit the continued sul - ness of the night, was relieved bye rich mantle, coming down over her head and muflling her fair throat, where it was fastened by a mag- nificent diamond pin. Diamond drops also glistened at her ears, and the entire effect was a combination of richness and simplicity that was in perfect keeping With the Spanish beauty of her face and figure. The detective, however, merely bent his head in silent recognition, asshe sunk into the seat at his side. '1 “ Now,” said she with her dazzling smile, “ as to how Lois_and Ihecame apprised of your im- , 118 Perl “ Yes; that’s it.” “ Well, this time it was Lois whose fortune it was to make the first discovery.” “ And yours, as a matter of course, to take the first decisive step?” Her melting look was eloquentof her grati- tude. “I thinklmaysa thatItook thoinitiative, but, without the i ormalion as first made by Lois, such a ste would have been imponthe.” “What did e find out?” “ That your enemies were constantly on your heels-that it was hoped to startle “Eon onto! your lodgings in some way, then to w you to the Harlem River, and then and them . contrive just spine sort of disaster that did bd'all ya: there. ’ ' “ How could my very thouthy unex- ._.-_..._. .—.,..... M... w—r—‘t‘w- .. .._ prom intentions—have thus been forest-lied, or rather foreseen?” “ I do not know.” gearl r’burned alive in my ic “ Merciful heaven! no. Did such a real! recede your Harlem River adveuianes “I: id.” And the detective related the te- rible incident in detail. » After he had finished, themgg gomgtrgi a . mained silent, clutching her terror. ' _ “Now what I can’t understand is last this," , continued Mainmring. “ How_ my in- tentions. with regard to proceeding to Harlan River with Jardine, have been foretold by any one before they were formed in my own mind— ‘ ‘1 in other words, before the were intention!” “Had ounotexp your] ' “B twas the reliminary eventof in being 7%,, u p bed pro- them before quitting .3- gings, direct] after your narrow esca from that bedof re!” g, “ erhaps so-thatis, verysoon attu- it, ,. toJardine.” ‘ “ Ah! then there would have been dine—flint '{i It sometimes occurs to me that . explains it. uh , 1 can think like the lightning, and move wind.” ~.. " To whom do you refer?” The girl’s dark check crimsoned. “ To in —to Mrs. Bentincke." terious. It was, h ova' , some immediately subsequent convermtiou , ' “Ah,t ings are becoming a littiele- mg 7" E that arch she-devil, Mrs. Bentincke— Byuyi; tr: life, I beg your pardon, Issiel” “ Go on, sir. tru . “ Well, then, it was by that means that Lab - overheard the discussion of my intentions, and . their predicted outcome!” ‘ “N t tfirsthand.’ ItwasthroughacouvueL w: 0 I. ‘7 cation between her own father and Digbv that she overheard.” “ Hereivensl could Mr. Calthorpe auction such a lot .- ‘0ntheoontrary,headvisedagainstittofi¢"’ 1 ‘1 t . ~ . om ‘ H Can the truth be other than the «a .1 :31“ extent of his courage. But he is link. acaundre . l‘s thumb.” The detective reflected. ~.— , - ‘w—w '. ._ *M"_ -»-.,.. < ‘. , , ,3..\ ' “the speaker’s youthful beauty, seem "- "his cool self—control before p mm... 9‘ , a. same... " \ “ You think, then,” he continued, “that, sub- sequent to my escape from the burning couch, Digby had had time to communicate with Mrs. Bentincke before the conversation that was overheard between him and Mr. Reuben Cal- thor ?” . “ cant time, but doubtless enough. There is no other way to account for the time given us to interfere.” “True; well?” “ Well, as soon as Lois had learned of the dis- aster preparing for you she came rushing to me with the appalling information. Our boating experience of the preceding night ‘had embold- ened us, but we had to think of going disguised as we did. Our costumes were at hand—the same that we had briefly worn a year previously in a girlish freak at our riverside place up the Hudson. We had to use the utmost dispatch to beon hand at Harlem Bridge in time, but we succeeded. The rest you know.” “ I do, indeed, know the rest. But for that both my friend and I would now be dead-——vic- tims to the malignity of those plotting fiends! You heard what the roundsman said with regard mm by ?” “ garding his identity with Cracksman "gill ggurse, I heard it, and was not greatly s .’ “ The clever scoundrel has doubtless, there- fore, been in secret league with your—with Mrs. Bentincke from the first.” “ Doubtlessly so.” “ Issie, have you known of this from the be- I “I. have suspected it.” “ I 'am going to question you remorselessly.” “You have my permission.” “ And your answers?” “ Shall be the truth.” “ I believe it.” “ Thank you.” ,“ That album in which I detected the adven- turer’s picture?” “ It was truly Mrs. Bentincke’s—let us speak of her b that name when Ssible.” . “ Wil ingly. How long ave you known that woman (since your childhood, I mean,) as your mother?” “ Since the first day of her entrance into this ginning?” ‘1 household.” “ She secretly declared herself to you as such It at the outset?” 6‘ Yes- 1, “The relationship was never suspected, then, by agent adoptive father?” ‘ ‘ ‘ ever, or she would not have been tolerated I ‘ . {in the house a single hour." ’ “I shall not uestion you about what you ma knowastot e assassins of Mr. Calthorpe j . Ichabod Taylor.” We face had become set and le; but her , . I "reioinder was unlooked-for by the etective. t was this: V “ I insist that you shall do so, and at once.” “StlIl—” “I will have nothing deferred, Guy; I will I not havs m feelings spared one hair’s breadth I insist!” y ’ '“No wonder that on have taken the lead in .,' - n ,V wit 11013. ‘9 You are so brave and resolved.” ' Her rejoinder was another sur rise to him, though it was given calmly, and w th no present face of passion. . It was this: “Ilove you. You are my husband. I shall neyer yield you qufior surrender my claim in that regard, while ave life. As for the truth ' in other things, as in this, I have nothing to few, thong: much, infinitely much, to blush and weep for the actions of others. But if my parents are unprincipled criminals, it is only my ‘mfortune, not my fault. I take this pos tion, shall never be induced to abandon it a sin- gle hair’s-breadth. Pray, proceed with your . ,qusstions.” . These words were impressive. There was a sad di ity in their manner and utteran, ce which, allie with their sineiglicity and to carry oonv ction with them. ' The old haunting doubt became rife in Main- waring’s mind. . “ If she be really my wife,” he thought, “ should I not be the render of her for those brave, tie-defyin and words? Ah, could I but know, could but know I” Be waited until he had thrcg'cquefihly recovered infi. \ -“ I shall take you at your word,” e went on .atlast. r .‘ (0 Do w.” “You have not, in the remoteet degree, been accessory to those murders?” l 33mm man andtfii h Havlern’, no!” on suspect e r au 0 1:95:51“, suspect?” a 0 on a, “ That the {Times were planned by Mrs. Ben- lnche,”and executed by her husband—my own “lowestde “ To the end that has been virtually attained—- that I might inherit, and they through me share, the old man’s wealth.” “ How long haVe you suspected this?” With a shudder. “ Almost from the first.” “And yet you have conveyed no hint—you have endeavored to divert suspicion from that course.” “ Was it not natural—nay, merely human— that i should do as I have done?” He could not but how his assent. “ Loathe them as I may,” she continued, “ re- nounce them as I may, are they less my flesh said blood?” “ I am not censuring you.” “Besides, remember this: To no one else would I make the admissions I have made to you. I would deny them point-blank in a court of law, and under oath. Excruciating torture should not tear them from me.” He bowed again. “ I make them to you because you have the right to demand them—because the cries of flesh and blood are as nothing to the devotion I owe to you—t0 the devotion that, trample and deny me as you may, shall cease but with my life— because on are my husband!” He di not how in response to these Words, but sat looking at her intently, as if he would read her very soul. " CHAPTER XXII. Issm’s MAGNANIMITY. THUS far, he felt convincedflssie had told him the truth, the entire, unvarnished truth, and nothing but the truth—and at what a cost. at what a sacrifice to the pride and feelings that women are wont to ho] most dear! Her words were corroborated 'by what Mrs. Bentincke herself had admitted, though in such a different spirit. Wb then, should he not accept her claim upon is credulity in the more personal issue? Was it more Vital to her to admit that she was not his wife than to admit the horrible crimi- nality of her own flesh and blood? Yes; something‘told him that it was so, in gust the same measure as a woman’s emotional li e is ramount to her intellectual nature. “ I admit the truthfulness of everythin that you have thus far told me, Issie,” said ain- waring, after a long pause. “ Thank you,” 00 d y. “ In fact, your words are borne out by the previous confession that your—that Mrs. Ben- tincke made to me.” She looked at him in amazement. He had not recounted this much of his adven- ture as a preliminary to his being fastened in the aws of the devouring tide. “ hat! she—she made such an admission to When and how did she make it?” “ When my life was apparently in the hollow of her hand, and she consequent! felt herself perfectl secure in making it. eseare the words s e used.” ‘ He re ted them. “ The was less prudent than I deemed her,” was Issie’s sole comment. “ Now let me go on.” H D0 “1” “ You have suspected your—this woman all also and from the very first?” ‘ es. ' “ And yet you did not hint as much to her?” ,‘ “ I dared not—I feared her admission of the truth of my suspicions. I loathed her for them, and was yet trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. Lan’t you understand that?” “ I think I can. int.” “ What is iti” “Before she so thoroughly unmasked herself as to break with on, were not your relations with her most cor iali” “ The were not,” this with a barely percepti- ble hesi tion. “Pardon me, but on the occasions when I saw you together, it struck me otherwise.” “ Superficially, we were mother and daughter —that s, in secret. Radically, we were other- wise. We wrangled often-7 had many uarrels. My own maid would hear testimony to t t.” ‘ Your own word is suflicient," this after a re- flective pause. “ Now, to go further.” “ Proceed.” “ Had you seen your—your father before the murders!” “ No; and I have seen him but once before to- night-of course, I mean since my adoption by Mr. Peregrine Calthorpe.” “ That is understood. But what is this you tell‘ go? "That you have seen him to-night?" ‘ es “What! in the course of our still fresh adven- tures?!’ “ Yes; and once before.” “ When was the first time?” “ He was the mysterious stranger whose con- versation with m mother I overheard here in the rden, whic enlightened me as to your on the rock.” But one thing more on that M 80.” “Yes; I am satisfied now that that man and my criminal father are one and the same.” “ And you saw him again to—night?” H Yes.” “ But the unwieldy ruiiian whom we found dy- ing while the overturned shanty was burning~ he declared with his dying brcath—” She interrupted him with an impatient ges‘ re. “ So you reallg‘believed that that man was my father—was old om Grimsby?” “ He had been passed off upon me as such.” “ And you actually believed it?” Mainwaring had already sufl‘ered considerable self-humiliation on this score, and yet more was in store for him. “ Who is your father?” he exclaimed, half- desperately. ‘ He whom you call Old Newthe.” The response was a quiet one, but it might have been in thunder tones, from the effect that was produced upon the detective. He clutched the arm of the rustic seat, and then sat as one petrified. Amnzcment and self-contempt made up the sum of his agitation. “ You don’t mean it?” he gasped. She pitied him so much that she merely bowed her head gently. “ Great Lord! how I have trusted that scoun- drel—how thoroughly has he hoodwinked met Uardine was right in distrusting him from the first, and so was my original intuition right in loathing and fearing him. But Winkerton has been equally ulled with me. In fact. but for his insistence would never have given the man the chances to hoodwink me as he has.” He seemed to derive a dreary species of con- solation in these reflections. “Think no more of that,” said Issie, with re- newed gentleness. “ The best of detectives have doubtless been temporarily duped ere this.” “ But Mainwaring, the G iding Detective, never before!” he continued, with undisgnised mental an ish. “ You are more merciful than I deserve, ssie. Well, well; let it pass.” “ What more would you ask me?’ By a great effort, be thrust the still smart- ing sense of his mortiflcation behind him. ‘I will proceed. You cannot blot out the fact, lie, that you have benefited by Mr. Cal- thorpe’s death 1” She regarded him with a uliar look. “ You, "then have ce ' to believe in the ‘later will?” ’ “ Apart from my belief. the only will extant bequeaths you everything.” ‘ Granted' but might not even rejoice that it is so, wit out having desired my adoptive ' father’s death?” There was somethizg simply human and re- tional in the way she d this. . The detective felt himself to have been un- generous, and colored. “ Wait!” said Issie. thing from the house.” She again disappeared. While she was gone, one of those lurkers in the shadow stealthily drew nearer to the wait- ing detective. t was “ Old Newthe.” His face was now like a flend’s. A gleaming dagger was clutched in his bony hand. Once he raised it over the young man’s back,\as if de— termined to plunge it to the hilt in that human sheath. Then he smiled, shook his head, and as the young girl came flitting back from the house, e again melted into the shadows. Issie laid before Mainwaring a piece of writ- ing. “ What is this?” he asked. “ I must bring you some- “ The rough, first draft of a letter written and i sent by me to my legal adviser yesterday. Call upon him, and he will corroborate what I tell you. Read it.” I” The detective did so. 7, Then he sprung to his feet in undisguised ad- miration and respect. “ Noble woman !” he exclaimed. The letter briefly ordered her 19 a1 adviser to ask for the admission of the will 0 probate on the distinct understanding that the roperty de- vised was to be shared equally etween the chief legatee and the testator’s niece. Lois Cal- thorpe, dau htei' of Reuben Calthorpe, Esq., of Rose Hill anor—house. Issie was turning white and red by turns. “ You then approve my letter?” “ Approve it? It is the some of generosity and magnanimity!” __ 1 CHAPTER XXIII. a uommrous INTI:me nimnn. THE detective returned the letter to her with a low bow. Then he resumed his seat at her side. “ Let not the subject of the will be mentioned between us again,” said he in a low voice. He almost feared to raise his eyes to here again. After what had he ned, he mistreated his own strength against er combined beautyend nobleness. He feared to believe in her as his wife—to be. I i i l J -/‘.,« ' i?‘ -, v'" "’. ainwaring, “the Salamander. lieve in it against his own convictions—lest he might clasp her to his bosom then and there, for better and for worse forevermore. “ You wish to ask me something else?" “ Yes; if you will kindly permit it.” “ Say on.’ “ The mystery about this adventurer, Digby, troubles me.” Again that flash of disappointment across the dark loveliness of the perfect face! Had she once more hoped for the more per- sonal question as to the doubtful marriage? Perhaps so. But she was thoroughly herself again so quickly that he could not have remarked the change, though now looking steadfastly at her once more. . “A superficial scoundrel and rofligatol” she exclaimed, contemptuously. “ e has no mys- tery. ,- “ You recollect him as" having been connected with—with the Grimsbys in the past!” “Indistinctly. I was but four years old at the time.” “Ah, to be sure. But you have recognized him all along since he has been visiting here?” “ I have.” “ And have known of his designs upon Miss Calthorpe’s hand i” “ Yes.” ‘ “And you—pardon me, Imie, if I wrong you by the question—you would have permitted them to be consummated, could an interposition of yours have prevented?” She confronted him with flashing eyes and a quivering lip. “ I would not have permitted them! And {ion go wrong me—you insult me—by the ques- on. She buried her face in her hands. He was faltering his contrition when she sta ed him by a gesture. hen there was a tearless reproach in her face as she raised it, but the look was also a forgiving me. “I would have hindered such a consumma- tion,” she went on, more calmly, “ at any cost to m self, Guy—at the cost of my life—at any cost at one!” “ And that would have been?” “ Yourself! You alone I would not have given up to save her—as I would not. even to save myself.” The simple womanliness in her answer was in- dis utable is embarrassment was extreme, but he mas- tered it. “ I believe you, Isis.” Then, after another long pause, he went on. " But I insist there is something incomprehen- n'bly contradictory in that man’s actions.” “ I can’t agree with you.” " How then compare his rsistent pursuit of nil? life with his magnan mity in saving my 1 e at the risk of his own in the railroad cut?” “ There is no comparison—no contradiction either for that matter.” “ Why—l” “ Your assailants at the cut-crossing were doubtless ordinary footpads, having no connec- tion whatever with these systematic pursuers of your life.” “ That is possible.” “ And Cracksman Charley saved you under a mddan impulse without having first identified you. He doubtless regretted it deeply enough _he moment he brought you up out of the cut mto the moonli ht.” "' I wish I can d think that way.” “ You can if you try.” “ But is he the man to give way to such sud— den, or generous, impulses, at the risk of his life. “ Whers'te dangfir iiete be confronted, or his massive ten to called forth es. is, I think no.5 ’ y That The defective thought again. “ I believe you are right,” said he, after a use, “ and I am glad to be able to believe. at there is one thing more that is puzzling.” “ What is it?” “ Mrs. Calthorpe’s ridiculous attempt to kid- nap me through the cave under the summer- house, and this fellow’s part in it.” ‘f Depend upon it, Di by‘s part in it was not so innocent and farcica as he would have you believe.” “ How do you ex lain the thing?” “ In this way. rs. Calthorpe is a ve vain Ty . and a by no means profound, woman.” “ Every one knows that." “ Well, Digzy was right enough as to the Wrath!) nocence 0 her motive. But, de- Ih gpoailgtt. it was eitherhMr’s. Bentlncke or e w o W it to er. “ What then “ Well, it would have been their care, had they really carried you off, that the result would have been more serious, if not positively fatal, to you than had been within the scope of tbs $01- woma_n’s intslntion.” on are wear an more anal tical than .” “ Thank you.” y I “ Then there are all these actual rescues of me from a rently rate situations on the fit of Oldfiewthe, as shall still call him for present.” “ I confess that his actions are also unac- countable to me, knowing as I do the absolute deadliness of his nature. Still—” “ Still what?” “His rescues were necessarily make-believes, doubtless to make surer of you at a more pro- pitiousl y murderous time.” . ‘ Ah.” “ For instance, he made no sign to save you from your fate on the river-rock.” “ But was he there?” “Undoubtedly. He was the mysteriously muffled figure at your woman enemy’s side in the boat.” Mainwaring struck his forehead. “Ah! But no more of him. My next move shall be to take him into custody, and I only hope that he has no suspicion as yet of my eyes having beeno ned. And that will be a ond one on Mr. inkerton, too! It would fie a splendid thing to be able to slip the handcuffs on his scoundrcl-protege in the chief’s very pres- ence. How he would stare then!” “ Still, on haven’t caught him yet.” “No; t at is to be seen to.” Then the detective gave her a quiet, inquiring “ I mustn’t forget—” “ I know precisely what you would say.” “ Say it for me, then.” “Those two are none the less my flesh and blood. That is what must not be forgotten.” He only stared. “ You consequently would know whether or not I would interfere to save them from your detective-clutch—if I am to be trusted, as against my criminal kin. That is what must be made sure of.” He colored. “ Issie, you are a sorcereSs. you have spoken my thought.” “ Good. then. And you may rest assured.” “ Of what?” “That I shall do nothing, either the one way or the other.” it How?” “ That, if I do nothing to hold your hand, neither shall I do anything to surrender them into your hands.” “ I understand. you could do no less. debtor, as it is.” “ Don‘t refer to that again, There was another interva time, a long and final one. He was then about to rise and hold out his hand when she stopped him. “ You—you have nothing more to ask me, then?” “ No, Issie; you have already so generously enlightened me—” He paused as he perceived the changed look in her face. t Then he began to understand what she meant, and he fell back uneasily in his seat. But she was resolved to have her own say, else she felt her heart must burst. “ You believe me truthful in everything that has this night passed between us, do you not!” she falteringly asked. 1 “ l do—more than truthful!” A little dogged- y. But she was not to be gainsayed. She opened wide her glorious arms with a desperate gesture, her face crimsoning, her bosom heaving. “Oh, then,” she cried “ wh should you be- lieve me false in aught e se. uy Mainwaring, I am your Wife!” Intellectually, no less than emotionally, her argument was incontrovertible. he detective’s senses reeled. It was too much. The next instant he had caught her to his breast. But it was only for an instant. Her exultant face had hardly been raised from the intoxication of his embrace ere he tore himself out of it. “ I cannot!” be exclaimed, hoarsely. “ God forgive me if I err! but in this one thing I can- not believe!” Then be rushed away, like one pursued by devils. She had sunk back, and was sitting there like a beautiful carved image in the moonlight. That last glimpse of his grief-torn face had been a sufficient, a final, revelation for her He did not, could not, never would love her! I confess that And with your nobleness I am unspeakany your lease.” of silence—this CHAPTER XXIV. manna AND mum. THEN a cry burst from her lips. A low, wild desolate, maddened cry. ‘il “I am without hope 2” she moaned. “ Ah! were it not for her—” She gnashed her teeth, and then a settled deadliness of purpose replaced her desperation! She was about to rise when she encountered— her father’s eyes. He was bending over her, demoniac fury in his glance, the gleaming poniard in his clutch. ‘ “ have overheard everything,” he hissed. ‘ Nance, prepare to die!” But, afterthe flrststart, shehad metthead- parition, that might so well have appalled her, with an unbleaching gaze. “ I don’t doubt it, father,” was her calm re- ply. “ Murder is altogether in your line. Why don’t you strike?” He only glared at her. He might have for- gotten her fearlessness as a little child in the crime-stained home that her infantile beauty had once brightened. At all events, he had been unprepared for her sublime coolness now. “ Why do you hesitate?" she went on. “Am I less helpless than the man-nurse when you stabbed him between the shoulder~blades? Or would you prefer forcing poison down 111 throat, as you did with my poor benefactor? am ready, I tell you.” “It is false! Girl, traitress! mine was not that double-deed. I can swear to it!” She laughed, scornfullv. “Still you must die!” he went on. “It is necessary. Otherwise am I lost, and your mother, )7 She coolly threw back her head, tore the lace covering from her throat and breast, undre- garded him with something positively beseech- ing in her glance. “I swear to you. that I desire to die!” said she, slowly. “ I am des rate, miserable, lost! If vou hate me, or if you ove me, strike!” flHils fury was unabated, and yet was he mys- ti el . “Mad as you are,” he muttered, “ ou shall have your desire. Have no fear as to t at.” “Fear? I tell you, I crave the stroke. Be quick,-then. You say that my death alone can save you. Good God! it alone can save me. Otherwise, I too may become an assassin.” She shuddered. “I swear to you that intending murder was in my heart at the instant of your' 1 Be quick, and make . providential appearance. sure! Otherwise it will revive, and I be lost,‘ body and soul.” “ What mean you?” “ it matters not. Strike, I tell you! Wretch as you are, I shall bless you-You will earn my for ivench by the stroke !" ' a burst into a harsh laugh. “ Forgiveness, and from you! Ingratc witch!” A “Ah, you are a coward, a cheap bully, father! But, come now; get yourself together. Remain-- her how dangerous I may be to you. I mayput the very rope around your neck. I may— \Vithout another word be seized her and the dagger once more flashed aloft—this t e mer- cilessly. But it did not descend. The prayed-for death- stroke was turned aside. “ Stop! move but another finger, and you are 7 adead man!” . The words and interposition were Mr. Reuben Calthow’s. Old ewthe —- Grimsb , the river-pirate— slowly released his too-w' ling victim, and lows. ered his hand. “ What have you to do with it?” he growled. But Mr. Calthorpe still presented, as at fig; his leveled revolver at the hoary around chest, and did not lower it until the dagger had been at out of sight. r “ ow go!” He pointed the way outofthol garden. “And forget not that I shall remain ' on ard here henceforth throughout the hours . of ( arkness.” Griinsby had recovered his composure. With- out another word he turned and stalked away. . Issie had remained seated, and was now calm. Mr. Calthorpe waited till the retreating foot. steps died away along the adjoining street, and then turned to her severely, while putting up his weagon. “ et another eavesdropper!” remarked the young woman, contemptuously. He at aside her words with a gesture. “ hat aid you mean by courting death at ' those criminal hands?” he demanded, sternly. “What did you mean by saying tha other. . wise. you also would become an assassm “ Who gave you the right to questionme fl ' was her sole res mse. “ I have over eard everything; “Much good ma it do you. at I am tress here, sir. I esire to be alone.” He hesitated. \ The man was a born'gambler—a moral slam? But he was not incapable of good. “ I shall do as you bid me, Issie,” he stammerm ed. “But I was in hopesfi’rom what I over-x heard, that you, or perha “Itis well.” r. Mainwarin —” ‘ “ Might relieve you of t e thralldom to w h‘ ' Digb subjects you.” “ es, yes' that is it. How the deuce did yin» 7 what wanted trtgnsayi” W t arvelous pene on on m part If I live, you shallbe freed from the seatinth clutches. I give you my word to that. Now- leave me.” . He obeyed withéut another word. " ‘ ' Shelistencd till assured that he had quittad -. the garden and entered the house. Then her former access of rage, which had i been interrupted b her fathers appearance, gradually pomessed a r fresh. The intervening incidents were as a blank. l VI Sbeonly remombered Mainwarin ’s W- ' griefctornfaceashe \ _..\ a,.:4‘..~-s-.§ ~ “A v . a ;, I ’ ball, with her strong” I: " I forts-vain pautings; but "1:. .‘- There was a cry, the 20 Mainwaring, the Salamander. once more before her eyes, striking anew the bleak hopelessness to her heart. And with this was the image of her blonde rival. “Ah, but for her!” she repeated; “ but for her ! ” The set deadliness was again in her face as she arose, drawing the lace mantle once more about her neck and breast. Then she flitted into the house, wholly uncon- scious of her every movament being dogged by footsteps as stealthy as her own. As Lsie glided through the darkened corridors of the old mansion-house a small dagger was clutched in her hand. She paused before a curtained chamber, noiselesst pushed aside the partly opened door, and enterec . It was Lois Calthorpe’s sleeping-room. Disrobed, statuesque in her slumbering beauty, the young girl was extended on the snowy-couch, motionless in the flooding moon- light, save for the soft undulations of her “ tender-taken breath.” Her lips were slightly parted, the melancholy of her waking hours had passed, something like ? shadowy smile was on the lovely upturned ace. It was partly supported by a curved arm of alabaster shapeliness; her other arm fell over on her side, the hand clasping a photograph. The face of the picture was clearly betrayed by the moonbeams. Issie’s settled deadliness of aspect received a demoniac addition as she recognized the pictur- ed face. It was Mainwaring’s. This was the temptation, surrendered to at last, from which she would so gladly have been saved by her criminal father’s avenging death- stroke. The sight of the picture spurred her jealous fury to the full. It was not only maddening, but also a revela- tion, to her. Lois had, since her belief in Mainwaring’s en- trapped marriage with Issie, covered her suf- fer ngs ab] . Even I e herself had come to believe that her rival’s passion had at least cooled, if it had not been wholly conquered. And here was the damning evidence to the contrary—his pictured image in the lovely hypocrite’s sleeping hand, his living image in her dreaming heart. Insie for an instant hovered over the sleeper like a veritable enius of murder. But she hesi ated as she flashed the tiny weapon aloft—hesitated, and then returned it . to the concealment of her bosom. No; she must not shed her "Victim’s blood. Like Othello over his Desdemona, she must kill, 1 “but not brutally, not bloodily. But here the comparison ended. Unlike Othello, her compunction was wholly She would do this deed in secret, without leav- ing an incriminating blood-mark, else how should she escape the after-suspicion, and claim her lover wholly for herself. More secret means! Othello-like once more, she softly sensed herself of the companion pillow to t 0 one in ‘ which the slelepi'eng head wa: nestling. ‘ ( That woul admirable—perfect. Two minutes’ pressu-e of that fluffy, downy ls down over the un- conscious face wculai le- :iough. CHAPTER XXV. “on runs: Brawn nit, sans!” Tum: would be a rtru gle—convulsive ef- this would soon be over. The man she worshiped would no lon rbe swayed b a counter, a superior fascination in .this been ul blonds face—it would be an image of the past—after that he would resist no more ‘ v --—be here forever! She raised the pillow softly, but determinedly, over the unconscious face. ' Then came the reaction, the revulsion. illow was flun aside, .. the young girl was clue in her would- mur- fiderem’sarms. It needed only this much for J us! ine, who had stealthin tracked her young mistress thus far, to slip away to her own room, with thanksgiving at her heart. Lois had started up with such amazement as “ It is canreadily be imagined. “ What is it, Issief” she exclaimed. ,' still night—why are you here?” ‘ 9}, I “Ask me not!” this through a tempest of tabs ,' and tears. . uved, find so am i That is enough, God be “ But on are saved, Lois, you are aired. pr“Saved from what? There is no danger re. “Danger! Ah, my God, if you knew what ' you, what I, ten, have escaped! But it is ended demon is under my feet, not over my _ '_ head, with his red hand clutching at my to ‘ .,drag it down to hell! ' must, And listen, Lois. 0 adventure not again in each other’l com- ’-.v -. It pany. It would not be ri ht—it would not be safe! Go to sleep again. ever mind my wild words. There, there; God bless you and guard you!" And then, with a parting sob and kiss, she had flown from the room like a hunted thing, leaving the mystified Lois lost in vague specula- tions as to this extraordinary behavior. Midway back to her own room, Issie had come to a panting pause under a small window of one of the corridors. She was still haggard from the terrible self- contest. and yet with a sort of virtuous triumph in her face. A woman’s slipper and a folded paper caught her attention lying on the moonlit floor. She curiously examined. The slipper she instantly recognized as belong- ing to her maid, and it was yet warm from the wearer’s foot. The letter was one of many that the French girl had received from her lover, Luke J ar- dine. A single sentence caught Issie’s eye with just sufficient distinctness in the imperfect light. Then she guessed all, at least so far as Jus- tine’s latest espionage was concerned, besides sus )ecting more. illing enough to have her own wild thoughts diverted into another channel, she hurried on to her room. There she 10st not a moment in lighting her lamp, when she read the letter without an atom of scruple. To other eyes it would have been unimpor- tant enough; to hers it was a revelation. After indulgin in a flOod of compliments and rhapsodies, the eve—letter contained the fol- lowmg: “ But my friend Guy is growin morose and im- patient with me. My adorable inie. it is all owing 0 your irresolutlon n the matter we know of. He is half a madman until the torturing issue of the doubtful marriage shall have become settled one way or the other. In vain I tell him that you, in re- turn for my love and affection, will ultimately make a clean breast of what you secretly discovered on that eventful night. In vain I encourage him to believe that it was as he hopes—that Lois, and Lois alone, will prove, in the light of our promise to me, to have been truly made his wi c On that occasion. He swears that you are too slow, that if you have anything to divulge, you would have told me it are this," etc., etc. She crushed the letter in her hand, then smoothed it out beside the tell-tale slipper, un- derneath the lamp. Was it for this that she had thrust the tempt- ing spirit of murder behind her back? All this was a fresh and unexpected blow. For the first time the knowledge that the jewel-secret of her soul was shared by another, came upon her. r The frightful calmness—the settled deadli- ness of purpose—had re her features. She swept like an accusing spirit to the door ofl her maid’s room, which was within easy ca 1. It was ajar, and its occupant was disrobing before her mirror. There was all of a Frenchwoman’s coquetry in the task, but her face at the same time was contented and happy beyond what the mere stor of her looking-glass, charming as it was, mi t have evoked. at as Justine caught the reflection of her young mistress’s face beside her own, she turned with a little scream. Always rather afraid of Issie, she had never but once before perceived so terrible a look upon her face. That was in the garden, but a short time be- fore, just before hur flitting into the house, in search of her rival’s sleeping form, and with possible murder written in its wreathing linea- meats. “ Ah heavens, mademoiselle! what is it? What rings you—might you not have rung or called?” “ Come i” Her mistress beckoned, and she followed her whither she led as obediently as a lamb. The moment J ustine‘s eyes rested on the slip- per and letter her pallor increased and she clasped her hands. “ Ah mademoiselle, I confess it-—-I did follow you to the young lady’s chamber. But I meant it for the best— wis ed to save you from our- selle had caught a lim of your face— ’ “ Was it more to ble hen than now? Peace, fool! Look l” She thrust the letter before the young woman‘s eyes. Then Justine understood. For an instant her trepidation was painfully increased Theln she was her calm, observant, quick-Wit- se f. ‘ “ It is from my lover.” She blushed quite naturally “Heisenthusiastic and foolish. But I am not as amed you should have read his heroics ov me, mademoiselie." “ Dare to trifle with me further, and you are lost—I will kill you! Look, readi’ She eteme indicated the paragraph that has been quoted. But Justine, now with her duplicity restored, was equal to the occasion, though nota little terrified. She burst into a laugh. “ It is my tricking him, mademoiselle. I swear to you that I know not a secret you pos- Might you not havo guessed it, mademoi- sclle? As if the murderer of monsieur and his servant could be known to me, and I carry such a sccret with a smiling face, a careless be- havior—” Issie gripped her 'Wrist so hard that she cried out, and then the delicate dagger once more glis- tened menacineg in the disengaged hand. “Continue this trifling at your peril!” she hissed between her rinding teeth. “ You know what that paragrap 1 refers to, and so do I.” “ Is it mademoiselle's marriage to Monsieur Mainwaring, then?” “ You know it is that.” “ But, madenioiselle, on my life, I protest—” “ Beware!” Issie’s black eyes were searching the other’s with a gloomy and menacing gaze. “Now tell me just how much you do know!” “ Nothing, mademoiselle, nothing. I swear it! That is— Oh, mercy, mademoiselie, mercy l” The knife was raised, the smoldering fire in those gloomy eyes was absolutely remorseless. “Look you, Justine, I must know just how much you know of that night’s business. I will know it—otherwise you die!” “ Mercy, mademoiselle, mercy!” “Listen, and remember that your life hangs on your answers to my queries. Where were you ugon that marriage night?” “A , marlemoiselle ought to remember that. In my own bed, with a sick headache, as made- moiselle had given me permission to be.” “ Then you did not see Miss Lois return, in a dazed way, at eight o’clock, and retire to her room?" ” Before Heaven, 1 did not!” “ You were not on the watch— on did not see me slip into her room after she ad laid down and fallen to sleep?” “ Ah, what is it you say? I never heard of this till now. I have been merely fietending to m lover—pretending m a secret owledge that do not possess.” Her mistress suddenly released her, and pushed her awa . “ Go!" she d. “ But henceforth your peace of mind is at an end. Henceforth on are my slave—eternally under in watchfu eye!” “ Does not mademoise e believe mel” “ No; but that is not here nor there. Hence forth I distrust you—you are my slave. At- tempt to esca to cast of! my watchfulnem— and I will ki you! Go!” CHAPTER XXVI. A FRESH QUEST. IN fleeing so frantically from Issie’s presence, the Gliding Detective had been followed and overtaken y Luke J ardine, who had been wait- ing with Justine, as we have seen, at the garden entrance. “ What has happened?” demanded Luke. “ You look like a phantom!” Mainwaring would hardly use an instant, though he was making a grea effort to recover his calmness. . He confronted his friend wildl . “ Everything has ha nod!” cried. “ You were rig t about 01 ewthe’s treachery for one thing. He is in reality old Grimsby. Be on the lookout for him. Meet me at the agenc in the morning. Good-night, old fellow. I cannot think or talk now.” He wrung J ardine‘s hand, and hurried away. After his experience in his homing bed, the Gliding Detective had no longer an inclination lflorid his accommodations in the McGinty house- 0 c He therefore sought the nearest blic house, which chanced to be the Mount orris Hotel, where, such was his physical exhaustion, he soon found relief from is mental worriment in profound slumber. Thoroughly recuperated, he made his report to Mr. Win erton in the morning, and then asked if Old Newthe had made his appearance at the office as yet. . “ Not yet," was the “But you ought to keep track of the ’old 9 ow better than I, Mainwaring.” “Ionly ope he‘ll not forget to report, as usual.” A “ Why shouldn’t be? You find him worth having about, eh?” “ So much so,” said the detective, gravel , “ that I wouldn’t miss seeing him again for 1: world. Please tell him so, if you seehimbe— fore I do.” “ All right,” and the chief rubbed his hands delighwdly. “Aha! but don’t I know how to recommend a good man on occasion?" i “you do, indeed, sir—after your own fash- on. And Mainwaring added to himself: “But won’t I cut the comb of your self-conceit, if I can only slip the bracelets on theold rascal’s wrists in our august iresence.” “ How 9 the Rose ill case?” “ Blooming and booming. Another week will settle it. “A big loathe: in our cap, if it should, for "5’ - V,‘ 9- Ma‘v . ‘. ;_ 'k '! l g‘, »-.,<~ ;(u;l"'-"U.6‘ra’h u n 1K.}4,,~?“‘. .‘ . . - 4f -. ‘ .tgshw x-,A;.,-..w. , . ‘V p, we l! \ ‘ ,u 12;“ “31x “ ;¢'Mw*‘4’ .x t . " ' .. ' 1 ‘ x " A ‘ I it?“ .o "1 ; -,,?r- 7” , Mainwaring, the Salamander. .' 21 the public and the neWspapers are already wax- ing sarcastic.” ‘ It’s the police that are getting salted, not us.” “So much the better if We win. Where do you onext?” “ p in Westchester county. I am on track of the missing lawyer and the later will.” “Ha! the old superstition. As if there were any later will !” “ We shall see, sir.” Here a. private messenger brought Mainwar- ing a note, which read as follows: “Old Newthe has taken the alarm. He overheard our entire conversation last night, and furiously confronted me after you had gone. ISSUE." The detective ground out an expletive be- tween his teeth, but there was no help for it now. On his way down the stairs he met Jardine, and showed him the communication. “That is had,” was the latter’s comment. “ But we must make the best of it. Where are you oing?” “ o Sleepy Hollow.” “ Aha! I understand. Had I better go with you, or remain?” “ I was just turnin that over in my mind.” “ On the whole, per aps I had better remain. I also have just received a delicate intimation. Here it is ” Luke J ardine’s private communication was as follows: “MON Cannz-You must marry me ri ht away, immediatement, or my secret can never at your service. Mademoiselle suspects my knowledge, and from this moment i cannot eversa my life is my own. I thought she would kill me: ut, as it is. I am simpl her slave. her victim, unless you rescue me from her jealous jury. J hernia." “ The deuce!” said Mainwaring, handing back the missive. “ What do you think f” “ That Frencliy doesn’t exaggerate a bit. I can imagine her life no bed of roses, should Issie’s suspicion of her fidelity have been thor- oughly aroused.” “But I' don’t mean that. I mean, as to my goin with you, or remaining here.” “ ct me think. Could you make it a runa- way inateh, and marry her off-hand, as she sug- ests?" “ I could, but wouldn’t like to.” “ Why—since you love her?” “ That is just the objection. M family are highly respectable, and I would ike to intro- duce her first, as my afilanced, in due form.” “Still, could you overlook the objection, would an instant marria with Justine expe- dite her romised confeSsion, think you?” “ I think not—perhaps just the reverse, I am afraid.” “Pray give me your reasons.” “Justine is no less shrewd than affectionate. She would have me dead then, and might think she could afford to take her time about the con— fession—especially if it is to ‘give away’ the mistress whom she holds in both fear and re- spect.” ‘:’Goodl the marriage is not to be thought “ Would it do to carry Justine off to m sis— ter’s house, to relieve her of her inenta dis- tress?” I“ By no means. Issie would take the alarm at once, and our difficulties might be doubled.” “ What do you suggest, then ?” “ Let me think aga n The girl is a good di- plomat, I should say?” “None better.” “ Able to pretend her innocence of any secret itinfiwg’edge of her mademoiselle’s aflairs success- 11 “ horoughly so.” “ Good enough! Let her remain where she is, and on come with me.” “ ou advise that?” “ Candidly. The separation may do her good, as well as hurry up her flagging resolve regard- ing the confession.” ‘ It might do that.” “ You’re sure of her attachment, are’nt you ?" “ Perfectly sure.” “ Let it be as I advise, then. Rose Hill itself will be all the more promising for obtaining a few da s’ rest on our part.” “ Sti , I would like to say good-by. It would look more decent, you know. “ Of course it would. Meet me at the East Tarrvt0wn station of the New York and Northern Railroad to-ni ht at six. I shall be a laborer looking for wor on the new aqueduct, under the name of Tom Smith. You will be a Jersfiydstreeg contractg', for whom I formerly wor , an anxious et me back ' a Mr. Jones.” g again—“y J ardine nodded, and the friends separated. 0n the afternoon of that day, the pseudo Tom Sinith was rovin restlessly amid the romantic Vistas of Sleepy ollow, apparently in search of work, but real y With his eyes Open for an old 1%0use. mitive as this storied region has remained in man respect8,10g-houses are not numerous within ts confines, and the search bade fare to be a, tedious one. At last the detective drifted back to a rude drinking-shanty, already visited, in the vicinity of one of the shafts. “ Hallo, friend!” called out the landlord, as the wandering workman laid down his nickel for a glass of beer. “ Back again, eh?” A rather discontented nod was the reply, and the beer was slowly ingurgitated. “ No work yet, eh?” “ Not a stroke.” “ I told you, you remember, how it would be. Italians are so dirt plenty for this pit and tun- neling work, that a clean, honest American workman, as you appear to be, can’t get much chance with the contractors. Killin’ hard work, too. This was said in a lowered tone, as a number of tough-looking characters, mostly Italians, and nearly all more or less drunk, were loung- ing around the bar, and the adjoining rude piazza. CHAPTER XXVII. AT THE AQUEDUCT SHAFT. “ I AIN’T afeard of hard work, boss,” mid the pretended laborer, in a purposely loud tone, ‘ an’ I ain’t never been afeard of it.” “ Well, just hang around here a few days,” said the saloon-keeper, genially, “ and I may be able to put you on to something or other.” He had already noticed that the new candi— date for deep-shaft employment appeared to be‘ fairly supplied with money, and the detective knew without the telling that he would be as Welcome as the flowers of May as long as the cash lasted. _ “I wouldn’t care so much,” continued the late latter, ordering another glass of beer, “ if I wasn’t made game of.” “ Who’s been making game of youl” said the proprietor. not without sympathy, as he supplied the demand. “ It sha’n’t be done, if you make up your mind to take up board here with me. Who’s been doin it, I say?” “ A stranger ack onder at Whitson’s. At least I think he was on y foolin’ me.” “What did he say?” “ Directed me to an old log-house, somewheres hereabonts, where he said he thou ht I might get odd family jobs till something better might turn up." “ Oho!” “ You may well laugh, mister. The idea of a log-house within fifteen miles of Spuytendiiyvil! But I’ve been lookin’ an’ lookin’ for it just the same till my feet are blistered.” “ Yes, and you’d have kept on looking without finding. There’s no log-house hereabouts.” f‘ Yes there is, though, begging your pardon, mister,” said a man, starting up from a bench near the door. “ There’s just one, and it’s back under Buttermilk Mountain, less than a mile from here.” The speaker was a smooth-faced, Hebraic- looking young man, of somewhat better appear- ance than his associates, with a quick eye and an easy tongue. He seemed half-laborer and half-sport, and was in reality just what the disguised detective set him down for at a glance—a gambling rogue and shark, living as opportunity offered upon the Vices and weaknesses of rougher and less in- telligent men. But this did not prevent the pseudo Tom Smith grthhtailing the young man’s interposition With e l . ‘_‘ ou’re the man I want to see,” he called out, bomterously. “ Come, and have a drink.” “Thanks! but then—ahl—I’ve a friend with mez ou see.” ‘ etch him along. The beer’s good, and per- haps the whisky is better.” he friend proved to be a rather secretive- lookmg German peddler, alongside of whom the younger, smooth-faced fellow ad been sitting. He obsequiously accepted the invitation, care- fully carrying his ck with him to the bar, and setting it close to t e foot-rail. “ What sort of a crib is this log-house, stranger?” asked the ‘detective, while the first glasses were being discussed. “ I don’t know much about it, to tell the truth,” said Smoothface a little thoughtfully. “ But a pal of mine whom I’m expectin’ here any minute, knows it better.” _ “ De log-house ish knowcd as Gimball’s, ain’d it?” put in the dler, sipping his beer as gin- gerly as though 6 never expected to get an- other at some one else’s expense. “ Kimball’s,” corrected Smoothface. “ Yes; that’s the crib, Cohen.” “ Ah, I haff peen done.” “ Perhaps you can tell me what kind of a place it is, then?” said the detective, turning to im “ 1 should radder shay so, young mans. De lasht out only dime I vas dare I vas kicked oud off ’de door-yart, unt de pull-tog sicked onto me. Smoothface burst into a laugh, in which Tom Smith and the landlord joined. “ Strangers aren’t much wanted around the Kimball’s,” said he. “Some sort of mystery about the new-comers there, they say. Frlizy, ha d over the bones. Mebbe this gent won (1 like to chuck me for the cigars.” I l ! “ With all my heart, for one,” assented Tom Smith; and the dice were forthwith produced. “ I neifer blays for monish,” was the decided comment of Mr. Cohen, as he retired to his bench, with his peddler’s pack in his jealous s . gr'I‘hIe dicing progressed from that time on, Tom Smith, for the most part losxng with an un- broken regularity that could not but greatly in- crease Mr. Smoothface’s complacent selfsatis- faction. “ Rattle, rattle, rattle! Yes, my pal Billings has some business on the sly at the log-house, and may put you onto something now. A nickel a throw is poor sport, though.” This from Smoothface. “ Rattle, rattle, rattle! Double the stakes. if you say so. But if there’s really any mystery at the log-house, I mayn’t like to be mixed up with it, you know. Lost again, by J ingo!” This from the pseudo workman. “ Rattle, rattle, rattle! Mysterious, mebbe, but nothin’ crooked, I guess. Double sixes for me! But your luck may change, you know.” “ I hope it may. Rattle, rattle, rattle! So there’s a weak old man the strange folks are looking after over there, eh? Trays and a deuce! Durn such luck!” “ Never mind, I’m only a dollar or two ahead so far, Smith. Rattle, rattle, rattle! Oh, I reckon the old invalid wouldn't be in your- way. I’m still a winner.” “ So your pal is a little on the queer himself, eh? Rattle, rattle, rattle! Of course—yours again. by jimminy!” “ I ho you’re not weakenin’. Rattle, rattle, rattle! es, betwixt you and me and the door- post, Billings and we ain’t afraid of taking tough chances for a big haul. Three fives! Hold on; you’re not getting uneasy?” “ Not by a big sight! Play for what you like. So your friend might introduce me as a sort of wet-nurse for the old man you think? Rattle, rattle,»rattle! What beastly luck!” “ Stand fast old fellow, and you may best me et. Yes, and you might help at the queer, too, at don‘t let the peddler overhear you—Rattle, rattle, rattle! Sort of monotonous for you. I must confess.” And so it went on. And at last Smoothface, elated highly, and who. of course, had been cheating from the out- set, fiun down his entire winnings, several dol— lars in a 1, and bantered the other for a final toss to that amount. The latter had by this time obtained all the information he wanted. “ I’m your man,” said be, after a moment of pretended hesitation, and he put up a like amount. Then he quickly won the stakes with as much ease as he had been theretofore losing them, and pocketed the money. Sinoothface brought his list down upon the bar, with a furious oath. “ Don’t swear, young feller. What do you say to doublin’ ’em up ag’in?” ‘ Not much !" “ “’ell, then, what’ll you drink? Come along, Mr. Cohen.” , ‘ The drinks were accordingly set up afresh. A crowd of rough men had been watch' the game, thus unceremoniously brought to an. end,’ and these, together with the saloon-keeper now regarded the wandering workman with 13-: V creased respect. Presently the latter felt a nudge. . It was from Smoothface’s elbow. He had re- : covered his equanimity, and, leaning against ,. the bar with his hands in his pockets, was ounv . templating the disguised detective in a tive way. s ‘ “ What is it?” asked the latter, as he was led to one side. - “ Sit down,” whispered Smoothface, confl- dentially, and they appropriated one of the re- ff meter benches. “ I say, you‘re a thorou hhred.”. ~ The pseudo workman smiled behind is false beard and eyebrows. '- “ I try to do my best,” said he, quietly, “ What‘s up?” v ' “ Are you ready for a snap?” H X798. 9 “ we‘re oing to do up the Johnny Peddler.” “ Ohol ho else is into it!” :‘ My pal, and he ought to be here ‘39me “ Is he a good ’uni” u Ti top.” “ at‘s the racket?” “ Cohen has got loads of boodle, hidden away {Innocent like, among his wares in that pack is. ’ “ I’m glad to know it.” “ Besides‘more about his clothes.” “ How do you know?” - h “ I’ve”been piping him on for three days, 0! " ‘ and on. . “ Well, ‘what e ‘ “More’n that hes an old thief himself—but ‘ .l on the sneak, mind you.” “ That ain t my sort.” “ Nor mine, neither. That’s why we’re lay- ing for him. Will you go into it!” ‘ If it’s safe. Yes. But mind you, I’ve jagged before this, and—" . . .m-.~.. -,- ._.. .~ -m-__~_- ._.. I Mainwaring, the Salamander. l “We’ve got the thing dead, I tell you! But hello! Here’s my pal.’ The detective ooked up. Then he gave a slight start as he reco%iized the powerful disguised ruflian, whose em race had just been boisterously hailed by all hands. Smoothface's pal was none other than Carolus Digby, alias Cracksinan Charley. CHAPTER XXVIII. VILLAINOUS cosnnamrss. “ Ir you’re on our lay, why are you looking 1" for hard work among these aqueduct suckers? ' The uestion was on the part of the new- comer, illings, and he was studying our detec- tive with a steme critical eye. The pair, together with Smoothface, were now in private converse, while Mr. Cohen was opening his pack and displaying his wares to a nois grou on the opposite side of the room. a _. “ ’m 100 ing for the main chance,” was the i, i collected re ly. . ‘ g} -“ You cal yourself Smith, eh?” "~ “ For the present.” ' ' “ Who was it told you of the log-house?” “ A stranger at Whitson’s.” i “ What did he look like?" ‘ “ It’s none of your business. But I’m only here to stand cross-examination, as a matter of course.” _ Di by, alias Billings, « , ‘ Char ey, laughed. if. A “ I rather think you’ll do.” in " “ Didn’t I tell you so?” put in Smoothface, pettishly. “ Dash it all! a cove that can beat 'me at doctoriu dice must be a good ’un.” “ Be easy. othing like making sure. I say, Smith, it’s at the log-house we propose to do up the dler.” a «f. v ~ “ he deuce! that suits me!” 't‘ “I’m glad of it.” alias Cracksman “i - “ You can recommend me for the old dufler’s nion at the same time.” -.'f" ‘ " com 1 ' “ hat’s so—if I make sure of you.” 4. . “ Is there anything worth nabbing at the log- y; " house?” .. , ‘_ “ It’s not to be nabbed, if there is—don’t on “I. forget that i” this with due severity. “ he " ' Kimballs are my friends.” “ Now you’re talking English.” “ Good!” “But ain’t you rather shaky on peddlers in general?” “ Why should we be?” “One was found murdered in a brook near here, and the authorities may be wide-awake. _. ,, I read of it in a Jersey newspaper last week.” “ You’re out. It wasn’t a peddler.” ,3. ‘ “2‘4 I. “ No?” ,- " “No; but a chap from City Island, who had strayeéiogp, this way on a spree. Peddlers are atillIg . “ stand corrected, Mr. Billings.” ' “ Don’t mention it, Mr. Smith.” “ “ See if y u can’t give me a few particulars.” . H Digby re ected a moment, and then slapped Q " the other on the knee. “ We’ll take our chances with ,you,” said he. . “ You can do that every time. , “The racket is this: Cohen im nee that the It? . queer ones in the log~house are ric . He’s wild to get in there with ht wares, and for what he ,' can ick up. i” “ o couldn’t, now?” “ ,Well, I’m going to introduce him this even- ‘ .Flrst rate.” “ If” you say so, I’ll take you over first, as a r. - “ Still better.” “ Are you sure you’ll like the ob?” " So far, yes; but I never go n on a blind.” . s I ' “ It’s as plain as rolling off a log. ‘ .3" Kimballs are in with us, of course, but aren’t to ,,v_ rvso. it > _. Th’at’s reasonable. How many of ’em are “Mr. and Mrs. Kimball, and a servant, for 1’ ' the figment?" . “ or the present?” a." Cracksman Charley la u“ There’s been various imball families in ' log-house, one after another. They’re $117353 Kimballs, and the ’re alwa s my frie s. But this last lot 0 Kimbal , only , are my particular friends. bed. 5’ recently arrived ._'~ ’fUnderstandi” “Better than the country folks round about “do, I liege.” ' ‘Not, ing is known, and nothing is sus— . . , v“ Who’s the imbecile old gent that I’m sup- 5‘ paced to be looking after?” It was asked in such a careless way that but a dngle penetrati glance was looked from the ' adventurer’s susp cious eyes. ,,- “That isn‘t here nor there,” he answered, a ‘ ~’ little sharply. “ He 45 the Kimballs’s private ' M“ r' Dinéfifiée’fiui h‘" a: n in no , as a . .“ Good! Can you go over with go at dusk -' 72.37" ‘fiis evening?” , “ Over to the log-honest” “Of course.” The detective glanced at a cheap clock that him over the bar. “ es,” said be, rising. I think I can make it in time.” “Make what? You’re not going?" “ I’ve got to—first.” “ Where are you of! to?” “ To Whitson’s station.” H Eh?” “Yes. A contractor I once worked for in J erse City may be inquiring for me there.” " I hat for?” “Because I once robbed him. But you’re deuced inquisitive!” Of course, this reply did not tend to allay the inquisitiveness complained of. “It’s a go. “Goin to see the man you robbed!" ex- claimed th rogues in a breath. “Here’s a o! g Mr. Tom Smith pulled down a corner of his eye, and inned. “ It’s a r. Jones,” he exclaimed softly. “ l robbed him but he had already robbed his em- ployers, and I was his memenger. See?” “ Not exactly.” “ Then you’re blind. I rather suspect he’s got another job in view, and can therefore af- ord to be forgiving. Now do you see?” Whether they di or not, they laughed their assent. “ It’s several miles to Whitson’s,” said Digby, starting up. “I’ll drive you over, if you say so The proposition was eagerly accepted. A few moments later the detective and Digby were on their way in the latter’s hired turnout, Mr. Smoothface having been left behind, to continue the piping off of Mr. Peddler Cohen, as he. would have called it. By the time Whitson’s was reached the good understanding had been so far cemented be- tween tho precious pair that it was resolved to rob Mr. Jones with no less cheerfnlness than it had been decided to ‘ do up ’ the unfortunate peddler. he isn’t easy to smell a rat, though,” said Dig y. “ Leave him to me, and look out for yourself,” was the reply. “ That will be enough.” “ But do you think we can induce him also, to put up over night at Kimball’s. ‘ Yes; if you keep cautious.” “ Oh, don t fear for me. Are you sure he’ll be fixed f” “ He’s always fairly loaded with lucre—that is, to the extent of a few hundreds, you know.” “ Will he fight?” “ On occaston I think he will. But I don’t propose giving h m the chance. Di by aug ed, and laid on the whi afresh. “ f course. he’ll be all right, ' he takes things reasonabl ” said he, with a jocose air. “ But if not, he’ have to take the same track with Cohen. ' “ Look here; I want to know for certain about this thing.” “ What thin f” “r130 you ant cipate murdering the peddler, or not Digby whistled softly, and flicked OR a fly with his long whip. “ That depends. Why do you ask?” “ Because if murder is intended, I drop the thin right here. That’s decided!” “ s it!” “ You bet.” “ You talk like a fool, Smith.” “ In what way?” . “ Do, you rea y suppose I’d let you back out now “Tut, tut! You couldn’t hinder me.” “We’re in a lonely place just now.” “ What of that?” l‘)‘ I’m quicker’n lightning and stronger’n a u . “ That’s nothing.” “ Isn’t it? Suppose I should decide to with- draw my confldence from you at this moment.” ” What if you should?” “ Why, I could get away with you in aflash!” “ Try it on—for a joke.’ The muscular sconndrel took him at his word, joking or no joking. Drop ing reins and whip, he suddenly turned upon h s companion with a brow of thunder. But it was only to receive the muzzle of a re- volver, thrust into his mouth, by a counter movement even swifter than his own. Cracksman Charley’s brow cleared. He litely spat out the end of the pistol, sla his companion heartily on the back, resumed the whip and lines, and burst into an approvinfi lau b. You do, mith! I see you have been there before." The detective lau hed no less pleasantly, and put up his shooting- ron. " I elm try to look out for the main chance,” he mod repeated, and the journey was re- sumed wit out further interru t on. Farce so far as it went t e incident had, nevartheleu, not been devoid of a spice of seri- ousneu, that set them both reflecti . “There he is! There’s Mr. Jones! exclaimed the pretended Tom Smith. as they drove up to the station. V, Digby looked the individual carefully over, and an introduction was speedily effected. “ Mr. Billin here is to be fully trusted, Mr. Jones,” said mith, after certain preliminaries had been exchanged. “ You can speak right out before him.” This was accompanied by a si iflcant glance, which the di ised Jardine we understood. “ Oh, well, suppose it will be all ri ht,” said the latter, hesitatin ly. “ You see, ' om, I’ve ot a good thing on nd, and I purpose letting ygones be bygones. What do you say?" He was got up as a well—to-do ooking business man, lentifully darkened and whiskered—a dis- guise hat Mainwaring had voted a success the moment he set eyes on him. “ What’s your good thin ?” asked the re- tended laborer, a little sur ily. “ If it’s ike that last job of ours in Jersey City, you can cgiint me out—if I did get the better of you in i . A yet more significant glance was given with these words. For one so young, Jardine was a marvel at grasping a situation intuitively. He pretended to fly into a rage. “ Curse you!” he exclaimed. “ Wasn’t your swindling me enough, without your boasting about it.” “ I wasn’t boasting.” “ Come, come, now, entlemen!” persuasively interposed Billings, “ is will never do, you know.” “Oh, it’s all right,” said Smith, brightening up. “ What’s your racket, Jones?” “ It’s something to do With an insurance office—but not in this neighborhood, of course.” “Just so. \Vell, Billings here is going to get me work at a queer house, where there’s also a racket on foot. You can stop there over night, if on say so, which will give us a chance to talk thin . over.” “ hat kind of a place?” asked Jones, doubt- fully. “ Is it a hotel?” i “ After a fashion,” struck in Billings, with a laugh. “ And a rum sort of hotel at that. You’d better come. There‘s room for three in my wa on, or we’ll manage to make it.” is was agreed to, after a little more hesita- tion, and the party were soon on the road again. CHAPTER XXIX. THE LOG-HOUSE. DURING the drive back to the shaft-tavern, the two detectives managed to increase the understanding betWeen them, seemingly with- out their companion being any the wiser. At the tavern word was left for Smoothface to fetch along the peddler an hour later, and theiliI the log-house was reached a little before dus . The detectives were not altogether nn repared to find the Kimballs represented By Mn. Bentincke and 01d Newthe, or, in other words, by Mrs. and Mr. Grimsby. “ Here’s a man I’ve brought to look after the uncle,” was Digby’s brief introduction of the Glidin Detective. “And I hope he’ll suit. My other end here is Mr. Jones, who wants to pay you for supper and a n' ht’s lodging.” This was accompani by a swift sign, which, however, did not escape the atten on of the detectives. The host and hostess of the log-honse—a rambling old structure of great size and many apartments—were at once all smiles and courte- sies for Mr. Jones. Toward the pretended workman they were, naturally, more reserved, as was perhaps proper toward an intending servant. “ Supp -r ’1] be ready in ten minutes,”said‘ Mrs. Bentincke, rubbing her hands. “ Be seat- ed, Mr. Jones. We’re not accustomed to receiv- ing transient boarders, seein as we haven’t always been so poor as now, ut we’ll do our best. Mr. Kimball. will you order Dorothy to take 11 the supper?” Old ewthe, as we shall still have occasion to style him, had been studying the Gliding Detec- tive’s face in a manner to make him feel un- comfortable, so that his withdrawal to the ad- joining kitchen was appreciated in the sense of a relief. “When is Mr. Cohen coming?” asked Mrs. Bentincke, turning to Di bv. “ In an hour, or so. e won’t want supper, but will expect to sta over night.” “ And welcome! in his pack worth showing?” “ Of course.” “ Well, I do hope so for I’m out of everything in the shape of notions and trimmings, and so is Dorothy.” Then, turning sharply upon Tom Smith, who had remained standing in assumed embarrass- ment she asked: “ You, there, do you know what employmeit‘ you’re wanted for?” The detective pulled his forelock, and scraped his foot. , “ My name’s Tom Smith; ma’m. Yes, Ir. Billin was good eno ,h to explain.” “ O , he was, eh? ell have you had any experience in nursing and looking after silly old persons?” ‘ x .5 , , . :3. ut will he have something ‘ v "M. . ’5’1"; ’.‘ Iri'f.lv’\. \ ‘jt‘mfllmrher: «M"vwfi* - < - \- g. .. “c l i ,, s 1 2—, e: i. a"? . 2, i ‘ l A i 7 it err .133. v... ' lative of ours. y ~13M: 3“ 33‘3". ‘ 'inwaring, the Salamander. 23 “ Yes, ma’m.” Promptly, and even with an air of pride. “ Ah, indeed! and where?” " In the “’ard’s Island Insane Asylum.” “ So you were there?” A little more inter- estedly. “Yes, ma’m. I was one of the most trusted and valuable keepers.” . “ Have you recommendations from the au- thorities there?” “ No, ma’m.” “ How is that" “ I was dismissed.” “ What for?” “ For breaking a crazy butcher’s ribs, knock- in‘ down another patient with a flat-iron, an’ turnin’ the hot water hose on a lot of loonyticks what Wouldn’t stop peepin’ into the laundry.” “Dear me E" with a softened air. “ And they discharged you merelv for such things?” “ Yes, ma’m! but ”—gloom11y-—“ there ain’t no appreciation of live merit in these here public institootiona” “ Well, I hope you’ll answer our purpose, Mr. Smith; only you must not be too strict in your discipline. Remember that.” “ I’m just a suckin’ turtledove, ma’m, an’ that's a fact." “ We have a patient here—an unfortunate re- \\'e always speak of him as Un- cle. Do you think you can make him happy)?” “ I’ll answer better when I’ve seen 1m, nia’m. Where is he?” “ Mr. Kimball!” bawled the hostess, at the top of her lungs; “ send in Uncle.” ‘ All right!” from the kitchen. . Then a sound of curses and scuflllng blows, after which “ Uncle” put in a meek appearance. A seedy, scared-lookin little old man, with watery eyes and a shu ing gait, but, at the same time, with something cunning and secret su gested by his general appearance. he Gliding Detective instantly recognized him as Mr. Ficldman, the missing lawyer, with whose photograph he was familiar. He at once lumbcred across the room with a rolling gait that was at diametrical variance with his naturally Ugliding step! “ How are on, ncle?’ he roared, with a de- monica grin t at was meant to be an ingratiatinE smile. " I’m to look after you. Do you thin you’ll like me?” There was a weak smile and some mumbled words as the newly-installed keeper lumbered back to his former position. , “ Oh yes; we’ll get along nicely together, Uncle,” he,vociferated across the divrding space. “ I’ll make you happy. All you’ve got to do is to obey me. Understand?” Uncle chuckled and looked hazil content. “ Mark me now—look me straig t in the eyes, I say. There: that will do. Now—sit down in that chair at your elbow!” The voice was like a war-trum t, the accom- panyin glance like a locomotive s headlight. But ncle evidently still took it for a joke; at all events, he only snickered again, without budging an inch. . The new keeper crowed the floor With a bound and a bowl. Then all that was visible of Uncle was a wind- mill resemblance of of legs, arms, bald head and coat-tail as be was wh; ed this way and that, up and down, underfoot and overhead, in the model disciplinarian’s frenzied grip. “ Hurrah l” applauded Old ewthe from the kitchen doorway; “ this is something like. Now we are getting along I” “ The next time Smith had better bring a club,” jouosely su igby. rs. Bentincke merely looked with dignified a rovaL . for J ardine, he would have been horrifibd, had he not known that it wasall merely a clever make-believe. without imparting any actual in- jug to the apparent victim. ncle was at last set upon his feet, lookin , so far as hair and clothes went, as though heghnd ssed throu h a stone-crusher. “ Now wil you take a seat in that chair?” yelled his new keeper. “Yes. sir,” was the gentle reply; and Uncle sat down without demur. “Do you see that?” triumphantly exclaimed the conqueror, turning with a glow of pride to the s tutors. “ Haw is that for a starter?” “ reek” YOu’ll do,” said Old Newthe; and the others were not less decided in their ap- prgid'” U 1 d I 1 guess nc e an wi 1 now take a leetle romenade.” said Smith. And, procuring the little old fellow’s hat for him. he 013? It on his head. like a snufier on a (1 ng can le-wick and led him out by the ear. be home “'93 Picturesquely situated in a wild and lonely glen at the back of the moun- “in, “d not 191' from a small pond, at the upper endof which was an abandoned tunnel- shaft 01' lmmenfie depth, which, however, con- tained no water. Once wholly out of light from the house, on the border of the pond, the detective’s manner com lately chan “ say. Mr. F eldman,” said he, in the voice which he know so well how to make musical and pand'ei I hope you didn’t think me in earnest, the way I carried on with you back yonder.” To his utter astonishment, the old man, after drawing a trembling hand across his forehead. looked up with a perfectly lucid expression, and replied, most collectedly: ‘ I knew you weren’t in earnest, sir; and I feel sure that you mean to be kind to me.” “ Hallol What is this? Let me look at you!” and his companion paused to survey him criti- cally. “Why, man alive, you’re not crazy.” “ Of course, I’m not!” a little pettishly. “ I’m only—'0nly—’ the dazed look partly returning— “ Look here, mister, I wonder how I came here, and where I came from, anyway. I seem to be in a nightmare, and—and—’ clutching his stomach convulsivcly—“ oh, mister, how it hurts.” “ What hurts—your stomach?” “Yes; that is, I suppose so,” and once more the wandering went tremblin ly over the poor eyes, which thereat brighten afresh. “ Paste! pesto ! am I dead or alive? But I say, mister ”— this in a hoarse whisper, and with a half-fearful, half-confident air—“ I say, mister, could you procure me a little opium, do you think—just a ittle bit, so as it is opium?” The request was accompanied by a wildly hungering look, together With a famished work— ing of the thin lips. CHAPTER XXX. THE moon-smncx LAWYER. THE detective had been studying his eccentric companion intently. For immediate answer to his appeal, he sud- denly clapped him on the back, and gave vent to a ‘ovous exclamation. “ hat is it, mister; what is it?” asked the old man timidly. “ I haven’t done anything wrong, have I? You won’t tell those Yahoos back you- der that I beg ed for opium, will you?” “ Hurrah! hat I won’t, my dear, poor man, depend on it. And you shall have your opium within a dozen hours, if I know myself. But that isn’t it—that isn’t it, my hearty l” “ Oh, that isn’t it, eh?” “ Not a bit of it.” “ What’s up with you then, mister?” “ W y, I understand your case, and I’m going to ma e a new man of you. So cheer up, Mr. Fieldman.” “ What’s the matter with me then l" “ Why, you’re not crazy at al . You’re mere- ly a temporary opium wreck, with your memory l3am .V ’ “ Oh, is that it? ButI say, mister, can dyou get me one dose of the dru —'ust one little osel” “Not now, but you s a] have it to-morrow, if love or mone can procure it. Now listen to me. Try to fig t of! that dazed look. Brighten up again, just as you were. There; that’s bet— ter. Now try to answer some questions that I mean to put to you.” “ You’ 1 get me the opium tomorrow—you won’t for t?” '1 “ You s all have it I tell you.” “ Then I’ll try my best.” “ Now then, ow long have you been here?” “ I don’t know.” “ Can’t tell how long?” “’1‘; ,Days, weeks, months, perhaps years—I can’t “ So bad as that, eh?” “ What is so bad? What the deuce are you talking about?” : “ Never mind. These two persons who are keeping {an here—” “ The 'mballs?” “ fies, the Kimballs, Did they fetch you here rst “ Yes; that is—well, I don’t know.” “ But they haven’t been with on here much 1” “ No; there were others. hey only came last night. I don‘t know. Don’t bother me.” “ One minute. If you had the opium, could you remember better?” “ Ah, my God! give me but that.” “You shall have it, I tell you. But will you be able to remember better after that?" “ Yes, yes; all will be clear then. But now—” Again he put his hand to his eyes. “ Let us change the subject. What is this great hole we have come to? “The mouth of the bottomless pit. Come awa from it.” “ hy come away?” ‘:,It is full of ghosts; or, if it isn’t, it ought to bail W’hy?” “Because it is in here that they cast the bodies of those they murder for their money. Come awa 1 Oh! I hear them whisflering about it, w en the think me onl dream gl” “Who commit he murders? hom do you overhear whispering” “The Yahoos hac yonder. Come awa .” And he even run several yards along e ad- ifoentt: pond, as though overcome with supersti- ous ear. The detective (inland him, and, finally, after doing his best to natill the necessity of caution in his mind, returned with him to the house. Gom,'the peddler, had arrived, and all hands were just finishing the evening meal as the pair returned. “Uncle and I will take a snack together, if you shall have anything left for us,” said the pretended keeper, seating himself with his charge at a small side-table. “ I find him hope- lessly cracked, but have succeeded in winmng his confidence.” “ You sha’n’t want for anything,” said the hostem, good-naturedly. And the serving-woman was ordered to supply the wants of the new-comers. Both Digby and Smoothface, who had also remained to supper, were apparently in rare good spirits; the Grimsbys were watchful and observant; the peddler could talk of nothin but his pack, and the bargains it contained; an the counterfeit Mr. J ones, in obedience to a speak- ing lance from his confederate, was keeping awa 'e with the greatest difficulty. Presently the main table was cleared, the peddler opened his pack. and the preliminary farce of the evening, so far as the rogues were concerned, was fairly under way. But at this juncture Mr. Jones almost fell out of his chair, through sheer weariness. or what seemed like it; and was forthwith conducted of! to his bedroom by the master of the log-house. \Vhile the women and Smoothface were bar— gaining and chafling with the merchant over his wares, Digby drew the pretended Tom Smith apart. - “ Your friend Jones,” he whispered, “.will be given a room next the one desi ed for the Dutchman, and, in a few minutes, imball will . have. chloroformed him into insensibility." The other at once manifested the liveliest in-, terest. “Good!” said he. “I shall send offrrgg' tient to bed right away. Shall we then a pair of ’em together?” “ Of course not. What are we letting you into the job for, do you think, if it’s as easy as all that?” “ it out what you’ve got to say i” - “ ell, then Mr. Jones will last along till morning, you know, since there’s nothing but robbery intended with him.” “ Exactly.” \ “ You being able, through the hold you’ve on his reputation, to prevent him from makfi too much noise after the fleecing.” ' “ A good ideal” “ Cohen Will have to be disposed of in the in- terim.” “ What! you’re not going to—” " Shut up! Yes; it’s simply a necesai in his case, or we’d never hear the last of job. all, you’ve got to do is to help disposeof the “Oho!” “ Yes; the old man, Dick and I will ; the rest, while the old woman will have ,puta ' slee ing-drauglht in his partin cup of tea. " t me t ink it over. ell, it’s onl a— peddler, anyway. All right! I’ll be sa ' ed.” , “.You ought to be, w en we let you 06 so ‘ easrly.” . i “ That he blowedl Murder’s murder, as you ‘ f v know, if only consented in.” ~ ‘ “ That is true. Get your old stick-in-the-mnd oirwbedassoonas oucan.” At this juncture rimsby alias Old Newthe, ,’ returned, with a nod to Dighy. as much as to . say, “ All right; he’s fixed for the night.” he detective took a mental note of this. and, then roughly shook his seemingly drowsing pa- ‘ v 5‘8" tient by the shoulder, while secretly whispering a caution in his ear. ~ “ Come, Uncle! up with you,” he roared. “Beret ” ' ' “ s a‘nt 0! sun out the tien in obedience to Segaled insggocgions. p. t, ' , “ Oho, ou won’t, eh? Mrs. Kimball, lass have a lig t laced in Uncle’s room, so l’llinow l? I' where to to e him. I may have to stay with, him a bit. to give him another lesson.” . , The hostess sent up Dorothy with a light, and f , " then added: \' “He don’t often behave so; most] g'oes tru- ting u to his bed without any troubfl. .. “ ell, he won’t behave so again with me, and I’m betting on it! He isnt happy, and wants to be happier. That’s what’s the matter ' with him!” . ‘ , " With that he pounced upon the old man one. , _ more, with a tigerish bound and a hyena yell,” and the knock-down-and-drag—out' tactics. so to ‘ speak, of the earlier evening were repeated commendable eclat. ‘ , , “ Now I think Uncle will come,” leasantlyre- ? marked the ex-pride of Ward’s Island at the conclusion of the drubbing. “ Come along, '- Uncle, and I’ll put you-to sleep with pretty song ' or a fairy story.” . And he bore him 03 in triumph. Ten minutes later, he stole out of the old man's room, and, after listening care to what was going on below stairs, crept from room to room, to discover theono in w Jardine had been stowed away. .. _._.,-._..~— .,._..,.__..._.k.r....‘.—... . a... ~Vf_.r...-.T._:_....>..‘..: .7. ' either too dumb or too brutal to see it. from the house here. L. .J ’ iztho very novelty of the t 24 MainWaringi the salamaner. " - " But at the first breath of his friend’s whis- pared voice, he started up, laughed softly, and is erves snapped apart. “ thought your step might be that old cut- throat’s again,” said he. “ Pah! how that chloroform stinks. Put it. a little further away, Guy. Of course, 1 had to lay it off within reach, in case you shouldn’t be the first to visit me.” Mainwaring did as he was r nested, and then seated himsel by the bed, wit his eye on the door which he had left ajar. “ 0 time is to be lost,” he whispered, “as I can’t tell how soon my continued absence may excite suspicions down-stairs. ” “Verydggflt But good Lord, Guy! what a horrible ' 'of crime is this that we have fallen into !’ “ lt takes the belt.” “ Why, I sup . they took advantage of the r old lawyer s weakness, kidnapped him, and intend to keep him here till he dies.” “ They can t want him to die, or they would have made way with him long ago.” “ How is that?" “He hasn’t got the later will on his person, but must have concealed it somewhere before falling into their power. That’s the only ex- lanation of their not having made way with im. They know it exists. It is the hope of ultimately obtaining and destroying it, through the old man’s revelation, that saves his life.” “ A good theory! Is he really crazy?” “ Not .a bit of it! Stomach and memory gone through the abru t deprivation of opium, to w ich he has doubt ess been accustomed for 7 “ Is that all?” “ Yes; and these Yahoos, as he calls them, are if we can run him off, and feed him up again on the drug, he’ll soon be all right, and the very last Will and testament of Peregrine Culthorpe be resented for rebate.” “Gad! we’l do it, then.” , I “ Luke, if we save our own lives, and do noth- ing else, we’ll be lucky. Yours is already in danger, and the peddlcr is doomed, if we cannot find means to save him.” “ You don’t mean it?” “ Listen!" And Mziinwariug hastily recount— ed everything that had happened since their separation in the morning. CHAPTER XXXI. , A DESPERATE PLOT. ‘ “ AND the ‘re really resolved on the death of '. the peddleri ’ gasped J ardine, as soon as the sto was told. “ You’re sure of that?” “ and sure! I am booked for lending a hand in di ing of the corpse, which, I fancy, it is .7 inten ed shall be thrown into an enormous pit, near the head of a pond, about a stone’smast . His murder is a prelimi- ' nary to robbing you of your fancied wealth, as ‘I have hinted, and then kicking you out into the world.” “ Good Lord! it seems more like an evil drp'am than reality. What do you advise?” .‘ ‘,I’ve thou ht it all over.” “ How shal we manage?” “ You must save the peddler, and get out of v the house with him before they can think he has " ‘1 had time to fall aslee ." “But the drugg tea that he will have ’ ‘ drank?” ' g “ I must contrive some means of preventing hisdrinkin it.” " Good, t en! And we’ll take the risk of get- ting away by the windows, and making tracks it? the Theorem: village. But what is to become on ’7 ‘ I’ll take care of that. This bull-headed way of escaping on your part won’t answer alto- , or after all.’ “Wh not?” “ It would still leave our opium-craving law- erin these villains’ power. We must carry 2 a m ofl with us.” ‘ ’1 “I‘m afraid it can’t be done. You want to ‘ accomplish too much.” “ As well be killed for a sheep as for a lamb. Besides, I have another plan.” r “What is it?” Mainwarin bent over the couch, and whis- xpered for a fu 1 minute in his friend’s car. L . The other smiled, and then nodded his assent. ‘ .‘,‘It sounds Quixotic enou ,” said he. “ But , ing may carry it ‘ ,‘throu h.” ' “ It must and shall. Au re'vm'r! and look gm p9 The women were still haggling with the ped- Jdler when the detective returned to the living mom. ‘ »But the three men were looking impatient, mirwith some whisky before them. and they ‘oyed him with discontent as he made his re- ‘ a rance. . ' -‘ You must have sun all the songs you knew ,to get that old im e asleep,” sneer-ed the ’ host. ‘ “ Mebbe he was playing cards with him,” sug- Smootbfaee. “ The deuce knows you were I enough!” . ~- detective shrugged his shoulders contemp- tuoust and then drew Digby apart, before he, too, could have time to join in the uncomplimen- tary comments. “ I don’t mind telling you, Billings,” said he, in a low voice, “ that I was up-stairs longer than was absolutely necessary.” “ \Vhat kept you?” “I thought I heard a suspicious noise in one of the rooms. So [slipped around until I entered the one where Jones is lying.” “What did you do there?” “Gad! I took the drug-soaked cloth from his face. It was part of the bargain that he is not to be killed, and he’s now so near death’s door that artillery wouldn’t awake him. Go up and see for yourself, if you don’t believe me.” Digby communicated this to his male confed- erates,and then Old N ewthe and he went up—stairs to investigate. Their return, with a nod and a smile, was suflicient proof that J ardine had successfully counterfeited the chloroform trance, and that their confidence in himself was greatly in" creased. Mr. Cohen presently closed his pack, announ- cing that he couldn’t dicker all night over the remaining few cents his fair customers might have retained in their possession. “ What shall we do?—-play cards?” suggested Smootht'ace. “ I suppose you’re not sleepy, Cohen?” “Nod eggzhngtly,” was the sententious re )ly, “ put I nefi’er blay mit de gai‘ds. I pelieve I go to pod sliust de zamc.” “You must have a cup of tea first, my dear Mr. Cohen,” said Mrs. Bentiucke. “ I tend gare if I does, ma’m. Dey do zay dat (lea are Coot vor dc shtomach pefore coing to pet mit von’s selluf.” “ Of course. it is!” and, dismissing Dorothy to her roost, she began to set out the cups and saucers with her own fair hands. “ It is a time- honored custom in the old Kimball family, this cup of tca as a night~cap.” “ Unt it ish a dime-honored gustom mit de Gohens,” said the peddler, drawing cheerfully up to the table, “to trink vot efl’er gan pe hat midout haying vor it. Dea aind eggsdra, ish . it!” With sudden anxiety. “ Oh, no; it will cost you nothing.” “ gun I may trink t’ree or vour gups mit you. “ I should like a cup, too, madam, if it’s all the same,” said the detective, though mentally agreeing that Mr. Cohen was almost mean enough to be poisoned, after all. “ Certainly.” Then the head of the house thought that tea would be good for his digestion likewise; while the younger remaining rogues sneeringly re- solved that the whisky was good enough for them. The detective had managed to seat himself be— tween the hostess and Mr. Cohen, and also to exchange cups with the latter after the beverage had been poured. A similarly dextrous movement enabled him then to make an exchange with Mrs. Bentincke, who was therefore prd’vided unconsciously with the specially doctored cup of tea prepared for the eddler. T is operation was repeated every time the cups were replenished, which was quite often. he consequence was that while, much to the first mystification of the conspirators, the ped- dler seemed to grow more wakeful and affable, the worthy hostess herself began to grow heavy- eyed and hazy. “ What the dogs is the matter?” whispered Digby to Old Newthe. “A barrel of the stuff wouldn’t pipe off the old money-bags at this rate while the old lady herself is fairly boozy.” “ ’ll attend to it ” was the reply. The pretended kimball then found occasion to whisper to his wife: “ Wake up, wake up! You’ve somehow drugged yourself instead of the Jew. At this rate, you may ruin everything.” v She tried to brace herself up, but with indif- ferent success. Here the detective began to tremble for the success of his counter-plot. Smoothface toyed with the handle of a dirk, that was visible for an instant, while Digby began to frown impatiently; so that it became jmssible that tho chatty and urbane peddlcr would he murdered outright without a pre- liminary slumber being waited for. But at this juncture, fortunately for the de- tective’s scheme, Mrs. Bentmcke incontinently tumbled off her chair in a state of insensibility. During the momentary confusion that pre- vailed, Mainwa ring managed to whisper a warn- ing in the Jew’s ear. ‘ Make believo to be sleepy, or you are lost!” he whispered. “They intent to murder you in your sleep. Alla their suspicions by getting up-stairs as quick as possible. There is some one up there to he p you.” The peddler had turned ashy pale, but he was fortunately (possessed of a reserve fund of pres- ence of min . A moment later, and he, too, began to yawn, gape, and roll about in his chair. “ My Cott in Himmel!” he sleepin gasped: “ vot ish de madder mit myselluf? It musht hat! peen somedings mit de dea. I gan shympa- dire mit de leddy, vor I vas nefl‘er so shlee y pefore in all my rn tays. I kess I vould l' e to gut me in my iddle ped.” e wound up by rubbing his eyes and bump- in his forehead against the table—edge. Iiowever, he clawed hold of his precious pack as the were assisting him out of the room, and no objection was made to his carrying it away with him. The detective contrived to be one of those to help him up-stairs to his room, which, luckily enough chanced to be the one next to that oc- cu ied y Mr. Jones. is lamgehleing lighted and his pack deposited under the , Cohen began to lumber about the apartment, indistinctly swearing that he would walk off some of his unnatural stupor before retiring, or die in the attempt. The pretended Tom Smith grinnineg beck- oned his companions out of the room, and all hands returned downstairs to wait. “ Now I’ll play cards with you,” said he to Smoothface, briskly drawing up to the table, and helping himself to the whisky. “We ought to give Moneyguts a good half-hour to trip off into the Land of Nod, and in the mean time I’m willing to win your pile or lose my own. \thre are the pasteboards?” SmOothface had already pricked up his ears, and Digby was no less eager for the ame. Cards were quickly produced, ant a game of whisky-poker was speedily in progress. “ Are you coming in?” asked the detective, looking up to the host of the log-house with his most persuasive smile. The latter, who had been carrying the un- conscious form of his wife to a near-at-hand lounge, shook his head, and said he would be content to look on. But the gambling instinct was as strong with him as with his confederates, and he too was soon engaged in the play. CHAPTER XXXII. THE COUNTER-PLOT. THE Gliding Detective was a magician with the cards. Adept at foul-play as were his intentions com- panions on the present occasion, he somehow caused the fortunes of the game to fluctuate in a manner that fair! mystified them. First one would slightly the winner, then his elbow -companion would for a brief space have all the luck, only to See it presently disap- pear to his next neighbor’s direction. and so it passed around. “ Curse it all!” growled Digby, at last: “ no— body will ever be five dollars ahead at this rate, and our little subject lip-stairs must have gone dead to sleep long ago.” “ He’ll kee ,” said the detective. deal Mr. Kim ll!” Fully an hour was consumed in this way. Finally Old Newthe sprung up with an oath, and dashed the detective’s pasteboards in every direction with a sweep of his hand. “ What are we here for?” he exclaimed. “ The Jew will have slept off the drug while we are making infernal fools of ourselves.” “Hold on!” cried Smoothface. “ Smith’s ahead of the crowd, and I’m at least two dol- lars out.” “ That be hanged!” Old Newthe had alread drawn his knife, and Digly, also rising, thong a little reluctantly seemed likewise n readiness for the projected assassination. “ Come, Dick!” said the latter. “Durn the cards—at least till later on! You aren’t going to back down?” “Me back down!” And Smoothface was on his feet. knife in hand “ Come ahead i” The detective had remained seated. “ Ah, you’ie in luck!” said Digby, with a sneer. “ You’re only booked for the grave- yard racket.” The detective gava a fierce laugh, and he struck the table with his fist. One might have thought that the scent of the midnight murder on foot had suddenly fired his heart. “ No, by Jupiter!” he exclaimed, 'rising. “I’m with you, my heartiesl” Digby smiled his a probation, and, with Old Newthe in the lead, t e ascended the stairs. “We ought to hear im snoring," murmu the latter. “ Wait!” And be bent listening at the peddler’s door. . Not a sound came from within. though it was evident that the lamp was still burning. “ Maybe the drug was enough for him,” sug- gested Digby. “ Go in l” ‘ Old N ewthe obeyed, stealthin entering the room, but almost instantly recoiling. . " Gone. b Jupiter!” was his ejaculation. “ Impossi e!” Headed by Smoothface, the others rushed into the apartment. _ The window was open, and the distance to the ground outside was not great. . The peddler, with his belongings, had van- ished. Neither was there any sign of the bed having been touched-he might have effected his escape as soon as left to himself. “ Your g} ’flr‘fip‘ ‘ s' ":(W a- .- «wa. v»... y- ). «fig-“mg;- M c ' ‘1’ I" 57‘} ".~-. ,1, : “its; . ~ g: «av v-re .af'v’ter‘WN-Ewwe ' " ; . \shr: raw _ {fan/3 ... ,“yy . H ,., " . "' .- on ,1 , 'Mam " Tricked, duped, and by such a stupid Dutch- man !” hoarse] cried Smoothface, w o seemed the most highly exasperated, though the others were sufficiently chagrined. “Some one must have given the snap away to him. Was it you, lSimith’f” And he turned menacineg upon the tter. “ You’re a fool!” roared the detective. “If Kguk accuse me of treachery, l’ll break your c l “ Maybe the servant warned him,” suggested Digby. “Impossible,” said Newthe, “for she wasn’t into the plot. But wait; I’ll slip up to her room and make sure.” This was accordingly done, but he quickly re- turned to say that the woman was inadeep natural sleep, and consequently could not be justly suspected of having conveyed the warn- in . fi‘he Smoothfacc, who had been moody, sud- denl brightened ups “ on’t let’s be cheated out of our meat,” said he withamalicious look toward the detective. “ Mr. Jones is lying in the next room, I be- lieve.” The suggestion was eagerly caught up by his actual coni'oderates. Yes; in default of tho peddler, Jones should be murdered. no less than robbed. / Such was the deciding vote. But the directive set his teeth in pretended desperation, and drew his revolver. “ N 0 you don’t!" said he, barring the way back into the passage. “A promise is a rom- ise, and I’m going to hold you to yours. f not exactly in friend now, Jack Jones used to be m frien , and not a knife shall bleed him while I am here to stand between.” The admired what they considered his sub- lime p uck, but were none the less determined. However, they only had resort to argument and persuasion. According to his own statement, this con- tractor, Jones wasn’t of much account to him— to Smith. Why, then, should Smith stand in the way of the will of the majority, expecially seeing that dead men alone tell no tales, and that to let the fellow go sect-free after despoil— ing him would always thereafter involve a sense of insecurity for the spoilers. And so on. Slowly, and with apparently the profoundest reluctance, the detective yielded his ground, and finally consented to let the murder proceed. “Go ahead, then!" And he sullenly ste pad to one side. “ But you’ll do this job slime. The cuss was once my pal, say what you please, and I sha’n’t look on to his cutting up.” So the adjoining room was entered by the would-be assassins, and with the result that can be readily guessed by the reader. Mr. Jones was also found to have vanished, and under circumstances even more inexplica- ble than had attended the peddler’s disappear- ance. “ I say Smith,” growled Digby, when the first shoc of the second disappointment had subsided, “ you visited the cuss after he was put to bed. You confessed as much to me.” “ And you, together with Mr. Kimball there, visited him directly afterward,” was the col- lected reply. “ So we did! That’s the truth.” “ Come, let’s after them i” cried Old Newthe. “Neither one of ’em knows the mountain roads hereabouts, and we may yet track ’em down.” This advice was at once acted on. Lanterns were procured, and the four men proceeded to search outside, under the two bedroom windows for whatever clew might be aflorded. A light rain had fallen, rendering the ground soft which was all the better for such a search. “ ere are their tracks!” cried out the detee that's].1 “ Look!” m i l ey were sn c ent y per tible and led on toward the adjacent of in the direction of the road. “ It’s Bully l" exclaimed Old Newthe rubbing his hands. “ They’re sure to have got bemlder- ed ea in that direction. Come on. We’ll have ’em yet.” ‘ But the footmarks were found to lead not only around the pond but directly to the brink of the abandoned shaft, where they abruptly dis- .p red. ‘Peéood Lord !” exclaimed the detective; “they must have stumbled down in the dark- ness. Vi hat sort of devil’s 't is this. an wav?" “ Come away from it!” c ed out Old ewthe, as much'depressed as poor ‘ Uncle ’ had been on the preVious Occasion. “ It’s uncanny—it’s an "ii pimps Smooth ig 5’ an face uall su ' ‘ had also drawn back. ' eq y Whom, “ But what’s there to be afraid of i” persisted the detective. winging his lantern over the edge and peerin down into the if. which seemed to be a ho ow darknem of 8“ , inable depth. 5‘ It’s bad enough to have, diff stumble meta; 3:18- hole, especially “ha ha ve car- ri eir money w t , . t e] is there to be alarmed about?" so “come back from it, I tell on!” called out the old rufllan again. “The {lord only knows how many murdered bodies have been chucked down that pit !” ‘5.z;<,"* ‘ . ..,, a O 1 “ Yes; it’s an awful place,” added Smooth- face. “ It’s got a worse reputation than a he ng- man’s graveyard!” At this juncture the detective started back, with an exclamation of horror. Then the others gave a simultaneous yell, and started to run, but their limbs for the time being refused their office. Two silent and shected figures were slowly, solemnly rising out of the pit. CHAPTER III. our on THE GULF. “ GHOSTS! ghosts!” elled Smoothface, throw- ing up his hands. ‘ They’re coming for us, sure!” But Old Newthe’s terror was by far the most pitiable. His knees knocked together, his teeth clattered like castanets, his face was the hue of death. “ Oh, Lord! I confess all,” he faltered. “ Since long ago, I have robbed and murdered travelers hereabouts! I confess all—only let up on me this once!” With an oath at his cowardice, though scarce— ly less unnerved himself, Cracksman Charley, alias Digby, alias Billings, dealt him a stagger- ing blow. ut the sheeted figures had crept over the margin of the pit. Slowly, relentlessly, they were floating down 11 n the conscience-stricken wretches,like shapes 0 mist upon the wind. To their excited imaginations, the shapes fiesumed exaggerated proportions and character- stics. They became towering and sheeted skeletons, with glaring, eyeless sockets, grinning, fieshless jaws, and out-graspin bony arms and fingers. Superstitions humanity could bear no more. The villainous trio turned toflee. But by some mishap, doubtless through his own terror, one of their number—the desperado who has been characterized as Smoothface— stumbled to his knees. and when he had regained his feet, one of the phantoms was between him and his companions. The apparition turned upon him, shaking its arms aloft, with an unearthly wail. The villain backed away from it, step by step, holding his hand before his face. There was nothing to interpose between him and the horrid brink. He retreated one step too many, toppled backward and disappeared into the gulf with a scream. The catastrophe completed the panic of his two companions in crime. Pnrsued b the phantoms, with the Gliding Detective ju iciously brin 'ng up the rear, they fled as fast as their tremb g limbs could carry them. But the ghostly pursners were on their track —along the margin of the lake—to the doors of the ve house itself. The ugitives durst not even enter there. After a momentary pause at the porch, they turned, continuing thrir flight along the menu. tain road, and disa ared amid the gloom. “Quick!” cried ainwaring; “no time is to be lost. Here are lanterns. Into the stables with you, while I am getting the opium-eater in readiness for the drive. Our ruse has suc- ceeded be ondvmy fondest hopes.” The “p antoms” were not backward in fol- lowing his instructions. Tearing ofltheir sheeted disguises, they stepped forth in their own proper persons—that is. in the persons of Cohen, the peddler, and Luke J ar- dine, the counterfeit Mr. ones~and seizing the lanterns that were thrust into their hands, hur- ried off in the direction of the barn. After making their escape, carrying with them the material for their ghostly disguises, they had concealed themselves just below the mouth of the pit. supgc‘irting themselves on an old cross-timber that aiuwaring had advised his colleague of, and with the astonishing result that had been seen. The ruso was the Gliding Detective’s chef d’mum in that line, and its development had been fortuitous! assisted by fate. Simultaneo y with the de rture of his con~ federates 11an the duty assigned them, Main- waring rushed into the house. Mrs. Bentincke was still snoring upon the lounge, thou h in a fitful and uneasy slumber. He passed or by, and hurried to the opium- craver’s room. The old man was asleep, with his clothes on, as the detective had rovided. “ Awake!” he s outed, shaking him roughly by the shoulder. “ The time is‘come. You are to escape now with me." Starting up from a hideous dream, it was some little time before the dazed old man could dimly comprehehend what was required of him. Even then, he took to the plan with anything but kindness. “ Go away!" he muttered. sulkil . “ It isn’t ofi‘lcehonrs yet. Get out! at 0 you mean bg disturbing , me? Oh l” And he clutched at h stomach with the old convulsive movement. ~ “ Nonsense! bestir ourself. You must ,go with hie—away from the Yahoos, you know. 1 the Salamander. ~——_~T~—-_ . . . 7...... 4.. -7 “'1.” ..... -J—v .. 25 fl “ I will not! Yahoos are good enough in their way. Let me alone i" ‘ Opium l” yelled the detective in his ear, as a last resort. “ Don’t you want a dose?” The old man was on his feet in an instant. “ Yes, yes!” he cried, eagerly. “ Opium, opium! Where is it? Give me some! I faint, I die! I suffer torture for it!” “ I am going to carry you to a storehouse crammed with it. Be quick, or you shall not have any.” There was no need of further persuasion. He carried the old man along with him unre- sistingly. There was a noise in the living-room as he was about passing through it on his way back to the open air. Cause enough! As he entered, he was confronted by the Ben- tincke woman with an uplifted ax. She was like a fury. Seemingly but half-awake, and doubtless with the after—effect of the drugged tea frenzying her brain, blood was in her wild eye, demoniac rage in her entire aspect. The detective recoiled with his companion in time to avoid a ' murderous blow. and then, striking her ruthlessly d0wn with his fist, strode on. J ardine and Cohen were already at the door with Digby’s horse, and a two-seated we on, into which the peddler had already his ck, which had been hidden away near the ouse. All were on board in a moment, heading for the adjacent road. I But at this juncture there was a crash of breaking glass. They turned to rceive Mrs. Bentincke, ax in one hand, a bran of fire in the other, roaming from room to room in her course of destruction. The house was already on fire in several places. “ She’s gone mad!” cried Mainwarin , rapt-:5 , in the horse. “ The hired woman will bu ‘ to death! We must save her at every hazard.” But even while he was speakin , the fright; ened Dorothy could be seen letting erself down ' from one of the upper windows. They lingered in the road til! assured of the woman’s safety, and until the incendiary her self was seen to rush frantically into the open air. . Then, b the light of the blazing buildin which wasynow a hollow square of crackling an‘d writhing flames, they laid the whipto the horse, and dashed ofl down the mountain road. “ If what was told me is true,” said the Glid- ing Detective, “ Westchester county’s sole res maining log—house is fast disappearing, and I doubt if there will ever be another.” But their perilous adventure was not yet at an end. \ As they were crossin a brook, near an old farm-house, at the foot 0 the mountain, where the flames in the background still vividly hted 11 their environments, there were a coup e of h 01:18 that passed uncomfortably near their 3. - eThe shots were repeated, and then Dighy and Old Newthe, pistols in hand, and accompanied - N by two stalwart rustics, dashed into view from ‘1. the farm-house rch. A glance showed the detective party that the villains had not on] mastered their super- stitions fears, but he sudden] of the ruse that had prompted t em. become aware ,, “ Incendiaries! horse-thieves!” yelled the elder ‘ ' ruffian heading the rush that was being made to head of! the fugitiVes; “surrender, or you an, a 'H‘ dead men!” A At the same instant, another of seriously wounded the horse, causing him to 3‘, . rear and plunge. Cohen and Mr. Fieldman were naturally of little account in such an extremity, but the re- volvers of the two detectives were out in an in- ’ ‘ stout. _ “ Scoundrels! keep 03!” called out Mainwlr- ing. putting a bullet through Old Newthe‘s be» crown by way of emphasizing his warn “ And you fellows, ouder! Are you such f ‘ asto bepersuaded the statements of tho. cut-throats? It is t y who are robbers and 1 mliirdmis Phi also fired hi bullet ere ar ne 8 Cracksman’s Charley's left bar, as a mm ‘ his own ability in the shooting line. The countrymen, who were armed with pitch— “ forks, wavered, and seemed to eye their con. panions with suspicion. But at this juncture the horse was no longerw 1'! manageable. In lte of a wound in the shoulder from which was breathing feeely, he took thebit fin his teeth and dashed away, whirling the wagon and its occupants after him at a terrific , pace, and within sound of two more iueflecuial ' shots from the rufllans before he was out of ~ hearing. = Then he suddenly balked, coming to a dead stop. . The application of the whip on started Mum ~ stops-G . forward a few paces, after w be ‘82:! so the pace vent kimtly on, will . 26 Mainwaring, the Salamander. I , railroad crossing was approached when a clat- ter of hoof-beats, together with glances thrown behind, showed that the four men were in pur- suit on horseback. “ Don’t be in a hur , Guy,” said Jardine, whose revolver was stil In his hand. ' “ Surely you an 1 I are a match for the four of ’em.” “ Not without risking the death of a farmer or two by mistake,” replied Maiuwariug, still keeping the steed to his desultory pace. “ You- der s the railroad, and just a little beyond is the shaft tavern, whose proprietor didn’t look alto- gether like a backer of cut-throats.” Mr. Fieldman had kept pretty quiet, but the German peddler’s terror had by this time reach- ? . , ed the climax. . “Meiu Gott in Himmeli” h'e yelled, wringing _ , his hands; “ ve shall all pe gilled, unt my brop— .- g perty—my brecious mershaudises—vill all be shtoled or destroyed l” “ Hold your tongue,” shale “If it hadn’t been for us, how would you ave fared at the log-house, you avaricious , Jackass?” » Here they bounced over the rails; but a few ards further on, when nearly to the shaft uildin s, a fearful, but hoped-against reverse overtoo them. The horse balked again, and then fell dead. i. CHAPTER XXXIV. *‘w GETTING OUT OF A TIGHT PLACE. To spring from the wagon, disengage it from the dead animal, and intrench themselves be- , hind it at the side of the road, after first pulling ' ' out their two charges, as imbecile Mr. Fieldman . and the fright-palsied peddler might be termed, ,3 , was the work of but a few treasured instants on said Main waring, {.{z w a; \ ": the part of the brother detectives. ‘ . And this was no sooner effected than the four horsemen came galloping up, discharging their . wea nus as they came to a momentary halt. “ uy Main‘varing. you are recognized at last!” yelled the seudo Old Newthe, flourishing his revolver. “ ive in, and surrender back the ‘ old lawyer into my hands, and you will not be further molested.” “Old Tom Grimsby, ex-pirate, cut-throat at large, and murderer of Peregrine Calthorpe and Ichabod Taylor, you are known, too, and you are at about the end of your rope i” thundered the Gliding Detective, in response. “ As for the rest of your hectoring, oblige me by going to ' T, . the devi i” ‘ - At the same instant he fired, his bullet this ' time grating the old rufiian’s cheek. Grimsb uttered a sort of rear, fired an inef- fectual 8 ct, and then galloped u the road, ,~ while his companions spurred their orses under the shadow of a clump of trees. ins airead sufllcient light to distinguish objects i at a consi arable distance. mightily jig, while yelling out afresh concerning i , “bropperty,” but no attention was paid to ml The two detectives were elbow to elbow be- their improvised barricade, while Mr. Mann was helplessl squatted on the ground . ‘hehindthem, occasions lyclutchin hisstomach, and muttering unintelligible wor s, that might ,or'might not be an entreaty for his favorite 3‘1"“ one thing in mind, Luke,” said Main- _,waring, quietly. “ Whatever chances, we’re not to ve up the old gentleman.” . ~, “I n’t for et.” was the equally composed , . . ow 0 you t in w: en up “ H h' k it ‘11 d?” A ‘ avorably, I think.” _ “ Honestly?” V H Ya.” .-" But that old villain has, doubtlessly, ridden . awa to rally the aqueduct men to his support.” ’. “ an be do it?” “ That is to be seen.” “1 don’t think he can." 7 “ Still, most of them are Italian scum—stiletto- ~slingers—natural-born stabbers and ruflians.” f‘But the keeper of that saloon seemed to have much influence with them, and he didn’t strike me as an essentially bad man.” . '1.“ I hope you are right, Guy. But it is well to to be prepared for the worst.” rt, 7 “ And I am not .unpre red for it. Out! that {cowardly peddler into si ones, will you? Throw your, glance along the railroad line down you- , ,“.Welli” , : “ What do you note?” “Nothi but a couple of hand-cars, partly .; loadfid’ Wi old ties, side-tracked by a gravel 6 “Well, one of them shall be our last resort. Still, I am in hopes—” .‘Here his hopes were nipped in the bud by a chorus of yells from up the road. Then a dozen or more Italian desperadoes, as .: with Grimsby, still mounted, at their head, were teen charging down upon the frail barricade. . A f a They were flourishing knives. clubs andstones, _’ were yelling like incarnate fiends. , to be prominent among them, as “ I was, unfortunately, right,” groaned J ar- dine, while Cohen renewed his terrified out- cries. “We shall have the whole hornets’ nest about our cars l” Mainwaring said nothing. His teeth were clinched, his face set like a bronze mask. “ Look to old Fieldman,” was all he muttered, after a stern pause. Then. just at the critical moment, he leaped fearlesslyiuto full view on top of the wagon, and by a splendid gesture demanded a parley. The mob momentarily recoiled, such was their admiration for the coolly defiant act. Then, in a clear, ringing voice, and singling out the saloon-keeper as his auditor, be pre- sented the unvarnished truth of the situation in brief, telling well selected terms. “ Now you‘ve got the whole truth of it,” he cried out in conclusion, “ tell me, s1r, as a law- abiding man, what you think of yourself for bringing those ignorant men to that crime- stained old rufiiau who is even now fighting us with the hangmauis rope about his neck.” And he pointed disdainfully at Grimsby. “He lies!” roared the latter. "The pair of 'em are incendiaries and cut-throats in detective disguise! Don’t parley with ’emi Cut ’em dewnl Wipe ’em out!” The saloon-keeper silenced him with an im~ patient gesture, though the mob were becoming freilhly demonstrative, as if getting ready for a rus . “ You make out a fine case for your side young fellow,” he answered. “ But this old man swears to me that the direct opposite of the case is the truth. He also avers that you have murdered Dick Satterly (Smoothface), who chances to have been my friend.” Mainwm'ing earnestly denied the accusation, and was beginning to give the particulars of the - gnmbler’s tragic death when his voice was ‘ drowned by renewed yells from the freshly in- ‘ furiated mob. Cracksman Charley then completed the in- terruption by suddenly spurring out from his cover, and leveling his revolver full at the dauntless detective’s breast. “Die, murderer of Dick Satterly, die!” he shouted. His bullet sped at the same time, but was evaded by a s multaueous gliding. or shrinking movement to one side, the execution of which was one of the gliding detective’s phenomenal feats of dexterity. The latter then returned the fire with the rapidity of thought, purposely bringing down the rufl‘ian’s horse, and was back again behind the wagon in another instant. Nonetoo soon either, as a narrowly-escaped ‘ A new day was now fast breaking, there be- shower of sticks and stones testified. Even an almost simultaneous shot from Jar- dine, with the result of bringing down Grime- . Mr. Cohen’s terror had assumed a new phase, 1 by’s horse, was not enough to retard the general . and he began to hop around as if dancing a com- . assault that ensued. Two more shots, however, with the eflect of ‘ seriously wounding two of the assailants served a little better, and the crowd rolled back, though growling and muttering, like the shore- wave that reeoils but to return again. “ Be quick !" muttered Mainwaring, grasping the old lawyer’s arm. “ Be ready, Luke, to break through the trees here for the smaller of the hand-cars when I give the word. Shut up ‘ your whining, and hold yourselves in readiness for a spurt, r. Cohen.” “ Vat!” yelled the peddler, with a frantic mo- tion toward his pack. Which, having been ex- figsed onto of the wagon, was already sadly ttered: ‘ unt leaf mine bropperty pehind i” “Certainly; you must go diseucumbered, or not at all.” “ Neffer, py Chimminy, nefl‘er!” “All right!” with stern indifference. “ I have done my duty in making you the offer.” The last repulse of the crowd had given the detectives time to reload their revolvers. , When, therefore, at this juncture, a fresh assault was attempted, they were enabled once more to nip it. in the bud by a rapid discharge of the united chambers in rapid succession over the heads of the crowd. Then the latter once more retired, after a fresh volley of sticks and stones, which was without effect. “Now’s the time! Run for it!” Then the two detectives were off for the line of the railroad like arrows, dragging the old lawyer between them. For the greater part of the distance the view 2f their retreat was cutoff by the intervening rees. When it finally was discovered, and there was heard the yell of the mob as it started in pur- . suit, the lightest of the hand—cars was almost within the grasp of the fugitives. Both detectives had, fortunately, had some experience in practical railroading. Consequently, to switch the car from the sid- i ing to the main track. jump aboard with their charge, and man the breaks, was with them but the work of a few minutes. Still, the crowd ought to have come up with make the matter worse, the saloon-keeper ' them before thismuch had been effected. A single glance back to the abandoned barri— imiting them to some bloody determination. cede explained the, interruption. Like a pack of pursuing wolves, temporarily retarded by some poor victim flung to their fury by a fugitive sledge-load of persons, the crowd had paused midway in their pursuit to fling themselves upon the unfortunate peddler and his merchandise. Swarming ~over the wagon and over one an- other, they were looking over the contents of his pack with savage cries and laughter: and, though tearing his hair in his frenzied eutreaties for them to desist, the miserable owner was himself sharing hardly a better fate than his property. “The Cowardly, avaricious whelp!” com- mented Mainwaring; “he has only himself to Home for his misfortune. Give way, Luke! This looks like getting out of our hot water.” Crash! went the cranks, the wheels of the baud-car responded, and away they sped down the track. But before they made a certain curve in the iron read, they saw the remaining hand-car in hot pursuit, with Grimsby and Cracksman in the middle, revolvors in band, and half a dozen brawny foreigners at the breaks. “There’s a way to dispose of them when the time comes,” was the Gliding Detective’s cool observation. “Our only danger at present is meeting with an up—train—a danger, by the way, always more or less imminent on these single—track roads, and especially enhanced in the absence of a time—table. If we can only get as for us Dobh’s Ferry without interruption, I Shall rest satisfied.” “ Why Dobb’s Ferry?” inquired Luke. “ Because I chance to have a physician friend there, under whose immediate care I trust that our poor old legal gentleman here will speedily recover both his memory and his senses.” Here J ardine suddenly called out. “ But look, Guy. They’re fast gaining on us, and even lightening up by tossing off their cargo of ties.” “Leave it to me,” said the other. a little game worth two of that.” Then, as the car shot around another curve, lc)uttili(ig off the view, he coolly abandoned his rea . “ There is CHAPTER XXXV. THE BEGINNING or ran END. “ WHAT on earth are you doing ?” exclaimed Jardine, looking up. “ What you see,” was Mainwaring’s collected res use. e, also, was unloading the car of the dozen or more old ties with which the hand-car was burdened, causin them to fall in the track in such a way that t e pursuing car could not pos- sibly avoid derailment bv the obstructions. “ Hurrah i” cried Jardine, continuing at the crank with redoubled energy; “ that is a trick worthy of your invention, Guy.” “ It is their stupidity in not foresceing it that will chiefly favor us.” was the detective’s quiet re 1y, as the last tie fell from his hands. This was at a point where the road was on a high embankment, with a dangerous ditch on cit er side. The pursuing hand-car just then made its ap- pearance around the curve. ‘ It was coming at a fearful speed. and its ex- cited occupants, with eyes for nothing but the fugitives, were yelling and gesticulating as if certain that victorv was already in their grasp. Both the controlling rufflans were. indeed. just leveling their rcvh1 vers when their car struck the first of the ol'istructicns. It thrust this one aside, and cut the next one in two, but the third was too much for it. Overit went, with its yelling burden, a hope- less wreck, into the deeper of the side-ditches, and the chase was at an end. Dobb’s Ferry was reached without mishap by the fugitivm, and Mr. Fieldman taken to Guy 3 medical friend. a Dr. Wentworth, with the least possible delay, It chanm‘d t'at Dr. WentWOrfh was a very capable physician. who had made the treatment of opium patients a special study. and with a success that had brought him fame and fortune. After listening to the strange history connect- ed with the present case. he gave the unfortunate lawyer a sedative, and recommended that he be left solely in his charge for a few days. This was readily agreed. after due caution had been given as to the necessity of guarding the patient from any attempt at interference. “ My house is a little howitel for opium suf- ferers,” said the physician. “ No communica- tion can be possible between them and the outside world, without my permission. Mr. Fieldman ’ will do finely there.” “ But how long.” asked Maiuwaring, “ before he will have recovered his memory as to recent- ; - 6 missing will, that I have ’ '.within two‘m'thrce days.” w'W - . months mli be req '- - tocouuteract the sh that have been undergone.” This was all the detectives cared tobow, and they forthwith took their departure from the physician’s house. . t _ 1i" ._ '11.. . s “7,7 “ But weeks. perm “7,7 --i . _. , , 2 ~ ., ,v, n 1': ._ “K I ‘_ "7‘ i345 . iv e Mainwaring v.3 I the Salamander. 27 “It is the beginning of the end,” remarked the Gliding Detective. “ I feel it in my bones.” Both were so thoroughly exhausted that, directly after procuring some much—needed re- freshment, they went to bed at a small hotel, where the occupied ad jol'hing rooms. When ardine awoke, it was almost night, and lie was conscious of something unusual going on in the next apartment, though his call to Mainwaring receivod no response. Rushing in, he found the latter in a desperate hand-to—hand struggle with a powerful ruflian, who was just on the point of overpowering him. As Jardine sprung to his brother detentivo‘s assistance, however, the rascal suddenly took flight, leaping out of the window, by which it was evident that he had effected an entrance. Mainwaring proved to be unhurt, though greatly blown and exhausted. i “I shall be all right in a minute,” said he. 5 “ Curse that villain! his is the only strength that ever proved my master—it has always been so.” “ What! you reco iiZed him, then?” “ Yes, in spite of is fresh disguise. Did not you?” M NO.” “ It was Cracksman Charley.” ' . Jardine threw himself into a chair, while his friend set about his toilet. “ So they’ve tracked us again, and so soon,” : said he. “I wonder if we shall go back to New York alive, Guy.” _ “ We shall do our best to,” said Mainwaring, with a smile. “Don’t be disheartened, old b0 .7, X But one can’t help it, occasionally. These scoundrels appear to be almost omniscient.” “ But it is only in appearance, when you come to think of it. They must have escaped their tumble into the ditch without serious,in- 'ury, and then to track as to our whereabouts . m a small suburban town like this would be no i great matter.” _ “ But may they not likeWise have tracked our opium-patient to his I otreaL?” “ We shall see to that Without a moment’s de~ la . _ rigliod, at least until Mr. Peregrine Calthorpo’s last will and testament are secured. After that, boy for ew York!” ‘ And 9 shall et back there none too soon. I long to know w iat batch of frwh news my darling little Justine will have for our next misting” t D W t or ed M nuir a r. en wor s v , r. Fieldlmaiito have been unmolestedfifnd to be doing promisingly. “It was tea at night when New York was again reached by a Hudson Rivar Railroad train. Then the detectives lost no time in proceeding to the Rose Hill Manor-house. , To their consternation, they discovered that neither Issie nor J ustine were any longer there. It was Lois who gave them the information. “Issie” said she, “surprised and mystifleg eve b hur 'ng away ast evening, an takizg' hei niaid vrviy'th her. Their trunks had been hastily packs l, and no intimation was vouchsafed as to where they were gomg, or when they intended to return.” “ Did you ask Issie yourself?” inquired linin- : “ Yes. But she was very reserved, and would say uothin , savo‘that urgent business was prompting r to a long journey." “ A long journey!” “ Yes; she may have gone out West, or even to Europe, for augbt I know.” As Lois seemed desirous’of saying somethin to him in private, Mainwaring politely llllll’kK as much to ardinc, who lost no time in acting upon the intimation. “Poor fellow!” said Mainwaring, as soon a; he was alone with Lois; " he feels all broken up at not finding J ustine.” 11;; It is chiefly of her I wish to speak,” said a. ‘ “ Of Justine?” H es” “ What of her?" “ There was something the matter with the yom‘lg woman when she went away.” “ as she ill?” ' “ Not physically, I think. But she acted very strangely; "gn w at way?” u, be was troubled, taciturn furtive. 0 would have said that she was a cbndemned alas: led’away to execution.” “ Yes; Isle did not once take her eye off the girl, who seemed mortally afraid of her, and yet goo cowed to say that her soul was her own. ‘: w “51”?” ‘ ‘a s more an do. Perba on be Food enough to explain.” p. y "in -~ ‘ Certain! . ustine the dearest mat of beg-dyoung mistress’s life, and the latter 5 determin it shall not be shared elsewhere.” , «Am you sure of this?” - « “I‘Qulse sure. Justine has frequently de- His safety is altogether too precious to be ‘ clared her possession of such a secret to Jar- dine, who is her affianced lover.” “ And with whom is it feared that she might share this secret?” “ With me—that is, through J ardine.” “ With you?” t‘ Yes. 77 d “ I’la! does it concern Mr. Calthorpe’s mur- er? “ Not at all.” “ To u hat does the secret refer?” “ To my iiiai'i'iagc.” Lois’s sad f l.‘ cc grew troubled. “ That again l” she murmured. “ Yes!" he cried, passionately; “that again, and that always, till the mystery shall be solved.” " Mystery ’1’” “Yes. Listen to me, Lois.” “ Go on, then.” “ You know the haunting issue. Issie claims to have married me on that memorable night by a cunning fraud, which you understand.” “I understand her claim.” “ Exactly; and that is all I can understand at present. Justine. however, understands the nature of the fraud.” “ You mean. she understands how the decep- tion was practiced, by which Issie claims to have pcrsonated inc, and married you in my stead T” “ I am morally sure that she understands more and better than that.” “ What can that be?” “ That no deception was practiced at all—that it is only Issic‘s claim to that deception that is a fraud.” ‘ “ But you were married to some one.” “ I hope, I am sure I shall. be able to prove by J ustme that that same one was yourself.” Lois made a weary gesture. “ 'l‘liat again 3” she repeated. “ And that always!" be reiterated. you are my wife!” Sue looked at him reproachfully. “ I shall have 10 leave you.” “ Lois, you are my wife!” She started to quit the room—her mother‘s reception room, in which the interview was taking place. He caught her in his arms. CHAPTER XXXVI. LOIs AND HER LOVER. LOIS was prompt to release herself from Mainwarin ‘3 compulsory embrace, but he re- marked wit secret exultation that she did so gith less of indignation than on former occa- ons. . ‘ “ You forget yourself, sir!" was her only re- proach. “ Forgive me, Lois!” “Oh, yes; I forgive you. But if you touch me again, I shall never permit you to see me more.” “But you are my wife, Lois, and I intend to prove it y Justine.’ “ What prove ,it against my own knowledge?” “ Yes; or a ainst your own consciousness.” She re her gesture of weariness. “ We! .” said she, dryly, “ we will wait till she has proved that decidedly remarkable thing.” ‘ ois! “ What is it, Guy?” “ You have more than once vaguely mentioh- ed [that you dreamed having married me that nig t. ‘ She started. “ True,” she murmured. “ True, though I had half-forgotten. Yes; I did dream it.” “ Would you mind telling me the circum- stanCPs under which you had that dream i” “Haven’t I told ou once?” “ Not as particu arly as I would like." “ To what end is all this? Of what would you satisfy yourself?” “ That it is not impossible for you to have married me—actually married inc—though yet in a dream.” “This is madness! But I do not obioct re— counting the circumstances under which I dreamed it.” ' ' “Thank you.” “ It was shortly after eight o’clock when I reached to room after my interview with you in Mount orris Square. 1 was troubled and exhausted with what had passed—your persis- tence in demanding the secretmarriagc, which I as persistently had refused to listen to. I will be frank, and say also, that I half-regretted that rsistency on my part.” “ a! you regretted it—-you had been on the verge of consenting to it, then i” “ Yes. I can admit this now, without any sense of shame. My afterthought was of how unha py I was hem—of how my parents in- sis in forcing the loathed attentions of that Carolus Digby on me—of how you loved me— all this was a most too much for me. I sobbed and wept a good deal. Then I lay down in my clothes, without intending to go to sleep, i; vans “ Lois, millsoearly in the night. Never id fall to sleep almost immqggtely. Slumber seemed to suddenly shut do uponmelikea (tibial: :Iild 1Iiiiuiillingm'j‘vvail. 1t pas tgen iii-g: I ream. o goo ouaganan me my you, in the way in whihh you siiy you actually married the woman who stood up with you be- fore the minister.” “ Suppose you repeat the particulars of your dream of the ceremony once more, Lois.” She did so. “ It is just as if you had been there!” be ex- claimed. “ Therefore, you must have been there!” “ Oh, please don’t go over that again! it is so prchstei'ous.” “ Well, then, I sha’n’t. more.” “ What is it?” “ How did the dream end? What did you dream after the ceremony, and after your sep- aration from me?” “ My dream after that was confused—was no longer vivid and life-like.” “ But what were the fragments of it?” “ Well, I seemed to have returnrd here, and to have begun to undress, while preparing for bed. Then there appeared to be a struggle.” “ A struggle?” “Yes; or an attempt of one on my part, for it was a kind of nightmare.” “ What sort of a struggle?” “ One in which some one—I could not see who —was trying to deprive me of my wedding ring and my marriage-certificate. And I was try. ing to resist the attempt—0r rather I was trying to try, but could not, being in the nigtmare ralysis.” “ Ah! well, and then?” “ Then all was suddenly a blank. I knew nothing more till the following day.” The detective made no immediate comment, but. was looking at her with a peculiar smile. “ Why do you look at me so strangely?” in- quircd Lois, after an embarrassing ause. Without answering the query, 6 made one in his turn. It was this: “ Lois, answer me truly. Have you ever been a soniiiainl'iulist—in the habit of walking in your sleep, you know?” ' She started, turning slightly pale. Before she. could answer, her father, Mr. Reuben Calthorpc, entered the room. He confronted the young man, however, rather with embarrassment than unkindness, though his manner was likewise stern. “ You needn‘t go, sir—at least not at this mo- ment,” said he. “ As for you. Lois, it is late," and you look as if you needed rest.” Lois at once quitted the mom. Mr. Calthorpe remained silent for a mmeut; He was a much younger man than the brother who had been murdered, and a handsome man withal, but with bad eyes and a weak mouth. , “ I would like to discover how much you ' i know, sir,” be managed to say at last. " “ About what?” “ Well, in the first place, do you know why I have been opposed to your paying your addresses to my daug tor?” H Sires.” I “ Why, then?” ‘ “ Because I am r, for one th n .” ‘ “ You are mista en. I have mostly been ‘ myself, and your poverty would not have m . i' an insuperahle objection, though, like most men, I am fond of money, and the ease which it alone seems to bring.” “ Well, then, it was because you preferred ' But tell me one thing Carolus Digby asa suitor for your daughter’s" 1 hand.” “Ah! hum! that was about it.” This with a " rather timid look askanoe. “ And yet I dont much like Digby, either.” w , . “ Of course you don’t; and, being a gentle- man, ou can‘t. pared or me to tell you why?” V “ Yes. perhaps so—that is—what do you " » mean, sir?” “ 1 mean just this: that the man is not only a gambler but a desperado and a thief: and that you know it. I will give you the credit, how- . v evor, of believing that you have not known it until recently.” Mr. Calthorpe had turned white. “ You know this?" he faltered. ' fl “ Yes, sir, and more. What the adventurer’s ‘ real or original name is perhaps no one but him- self knows. But years ago he was a criminal under the graphic sobri net of Cracksman L Charley. He may have he a hundred aliases since. and at the present time he is the secret assooiate of robbers and murderers.” ; A look, almost of terror, came into Mr. Cal- thorpe’s face. - But the detective, remembering only the in— justice that had been done him, was resolved not 3 to spare him. ’ , > “ know yet more than I have told you,” said , he. in a low, significant voice. 7 . ., but the detective . M Mr. Calthorpe gave a start, continued, remorselessly: “ I also know the secnet of that man‘s power over you !" M “You do not—you cannot knowthdll‘ - . Calthorpe burst out. v ” ' ’ 'm, 7 if: “ Ah, but I do. It is not albne through a temity of gambling instincts that thevilo,'eriihb'~*r Mr. Calthorpe, are you pro-v, fa, , and once idolized stained adventurer, at present calling himself Carolus Di by, has persisted in coming, unfor- bidden to t is house—in offering his court to that an e] of purity, your daughter Lois.” Mr. althorpe glared at him, and then inspect- ed the door, to be sure that no one was eaves- dro ing. “’ is false!” he hoarsely exclaimed. “There is nothing else. It is—I confess it—solely through my unconquerahiy vicious taste for gamb ing t at Carolus Digby has thus far con- trolled me.” The detective slowly shook his head. “There is something else,” he said. “ That man holds you, Mr. Reuben Calthorpe, under his remorselcss thumb, and there is another, a par- ticular cause for it.” The other licked his lips together, as if they were arched. “ hat is it?” he gasped, as if anticipating, yet fearing, the answer. “ He carries it upon his person, and its face- value is two thousand dollars! Mr. Calthorpe gavea sort of cry, and he reeled .into a chair. “ True, true, true!” he murmured, burying his face in his hands. “God help me!” The detective was touched. “ Be of better heart, sir!” said he, kindly. “ I have not told you this to exult over your humil- iation—much as I may have been justly pro- voked to do so—but to offer you my help—my friendship.” “ What! you will help me?” He was looking u ea erly. “Here is my ban on t!” The extended hand was warmly accepted. “ God bless ou, sir!” exclaimed Mr. Calthorpe, fervently. “ have wronged you—I see it now— but amends may be in my power at some future time. Good-night, sir, good-night!” Nothing more was said. Upon quitting Mr. Calthorpe, the detective hurried to the arched gateway], where he found Jardine impatiently awaiting im. “It is very late, “said Jardine, " and I was greatly tempted to go without you.” “Go where?" . “ To my sister’s house. Read this. " He handed the other a scrap of r at the same time striking a taper mater}; him to read it by. The paper contained these words, hastily scrawled: “Mos Arum Anoanz—J o, whitherI know not, because I must—because: a will kill me if I obey not. and in silence. 0h. 1mm amt! why do you 0 away, why did you leave me? She. my beautiEil mistress. has become a jealous fury. an exacting tyrant, and i ambut her tremblin slave. But if I can escape. I will go to the house 0 your married sister that ou once told me of. Adieu, man cher.’ My heart is eavy. JUSTINE." “ When did you receive this I” “ Ten minutes ago.” “ Who gave it to you?” “/Littl0 Clip.” “ Clip!” “ Yes.” “ Why, Issie told me she dismissed her several “K: t s has been hanging around here, off and on, ever since.” ‘ What did the girl say?” “ Nothing more than that Justine managed to slip it into her hand as she was passing out to the coach with her mistress.” “ Shall you go to your sister’s house now?" “ Instantly, and you with me.” “ Where is it?” p “ A cottage fronting the west side of Mount Morris Square.” = ‘ “ Come on !” They were still passing along the garden-wall, "X 7 [when Clip at in a fresh appearance, confidently plucking ainwaring by the sleeve. , “ Ho‘s sneakin’ around in there!" said she, with a suggestive gesture. “I see’d him creep over from the vacant lot.” “ Who is lie—whom do you mean?" “ The howlin’ swell. though he ain’t much on the Well just now—Di by. ’ , Mainwaring paused, rresolute. Shouldhe return to warn Mr. Calthorpe, or V has on with Luke? cl. riosity as to J uetine’s revelation, should she ‘ ~ found, proved aramount. He gave the chi d a handful of nickels for her devotion, passed on with his friend, and speedin i 1' ot the information in what was destined to o ow. Jardine's married sister was a Mrs. Whitmore. whohad never as yet been introduced to her younger brother’s intended. She said that a young woman, giving the name of J ustme Deschappelles, had called at 'her house half an hour previously. She had anxiously inquired as to the where- abouts of Mrs. Whitney a brother mentioning that she was his betrothed; and 1: en, on being unable to obtain the information, had begged to be allowed to remain overnight, va uely aver- ting that she was in fear of her life rom some one who was pursuing her, and of whom she seemed to be in great fear. Mainwaring, the. S ,1 carriage than the one that had brought Justine was driven up. Out of it there sprung a very beautiful but very much incensed young lady, who lost not a moment in rushing through the small garden and u to the porch, in which Justine and Mrs. Whitmore were conversing. Justine had at once manifested the utmost ter— ror and confusion, but had forthwith been dragged away by the other, before whom she had suddenly become strangely dumb and sub- servient. Then she had been thrust into the carriage; her mistress, as Mrs. Whitmore took the other to be, had followed, and they had been driven away. Such was Mrs. Whitmorc’s story. It was related to J ardine and Maiuwaring at the gate of the lady’s cottage garden. The street on this side of Mount Morris Park, which is one of the chaicest localities in the Har- lcm district, is always retired and lonely at night. The lady had scarch concluded her remarka- ble tale, and neither 0 the young men had had an opportunity to question her thereon, when a rapidly-driven close coach was observed an preaching from the south. It drew up at the gate, and as a young woman sprung out without waiting for assistance, Jar- dine ran to her with a joyous exclamation. A hurried but rapturous embrace was the re- sult, for the fresh comer was Justine. “Ah! you are here again?” cried Mrs. Whit- more. Justine dismissed the coach with a gesture, and, pulling her lover along, ran up to the gate, where the others had remained. "Yes, madame, I am back again!” she ex- claimed, excitedly. “And now on will not let her carry me awa , will cu? ut no!" with a fond glance at Lu e, an a glad one at his com- panion; “ now I am sure of protection. And yet”—she shuddered—“ if she should track me again I shall surely go mad! She will kill me, I know she will!” “ Com as yourself, my darling!” said her lover. ‘ No one shall harm you.” “ And on shall remain here with me,” said Mrs. Wh tmore. “ As my brother’s affianoed wife, you shall not want shelter and protection.” The GlidingJ Detective also spoke some re- assuring wor . “ Where did you journey to?” inquired Jus- tine’s lover, when she had regained something of composure. “ Ah, I hardly know. To some small hotel back in the country, where mademoiselle kept me constamment under the ll of her e es, which can be like the basilisk, or all that t ey are l(sic beaiitéiful. And continuellement all): wou say you attempt to escape or spea , my little Justine, I will surel kill you by slow torture.’ Mon Dim! as if t e torture was not already and incessament. But tonight I man- afiled to elude her, and come back to the city. A ! but she was on my track like a tigrees. believe she is clairvoyanfe. Nothing escapee her. Madame, here, knows how she tore me awe?” “ es; we have heard the story. But where are vou last from i” “ From a hotel near Central Park. Ah, she will track me once more. I feel sure. Then I shall die!” “ You’ll do nothing of the sort.” cried Jar- dine, half-angrily. “ You will merely say that )you have had enou h of her service, and will ave no more of it. shall be here.” Mainwaring here interposed. “ Let me suggest a way out of the difficulty,” said he. “ Oh, do so, monsieuri You are so clever, so wise!” “Thank you. My proposition is this: It is evident that your young mistress has been sub- jecting you to this despotism of hers—terroriz- ng you—through a haunting fear on her own part lest you should betray some precious secret of here that is also in your ion.” ‘:,Ah, monsieur, it is true! That is a certain- “Well, wh not throw 03 her power over on here an now, this very instant, and with at few words?” “ In what way, monsleurf” “uh; divulging the secret.” J ine clasped her hands. “ Ah, if I but dared 2” she murmured. " Dared 1” “ Yes, monsieur." “ But it does not involve a crime?” “ A crime! Oh, no, monsieur; it is scarcely a crime. And yet—" I “ What does it concern, Justine?” cried her over. “ Oh, man Dieu! a marriage.” “Come, then, tell us at once!” again inter- posed Mainwaring, this time with stern impa- tience. “Do so, my dear!” urged Mrs. Whitmore. “ Even if you have promised not to reveal it—” “ But I have never madea sworn promise, madame. It is but recently that mademoiselle has suspected my knowledge of it.” “Well, then, confide it to us at once. By this means alone can you destroy her tyranny over you.” alamander. Justine hesitated. “ I shall do it!” she exclaimed, with sudden energy. “ You shall know all—you especial] , monsieur ”—to Mainwaring—“ for it chie y concerns your ha piness.” They all lean forward expectantly—Main- waring in an agony dl' suspense. The onged-for avowal seemed trembling on the edge of her lips. Then she gave a stifled c . and pointed back, down the street, along whim a fresh coach was seen to be approaching at a furious pace. “ Ha! I knew it!” she cried, white to the lips. “Mademoiselle has tracked me again—she is. here—she will kill me!” They strove to compose her, J ardine even tak- ing her in his arms. ' But in another moment the new coach had come to a stop, and it was indeed lssie who sprung out of it. Radiantly beautiful, notwithstanding a stern and set puleness that overspread her features her brov. s were knitted, and a cold, resenth look gleumed in her eves as the rested on the trembling Freuchwoman, as oblivious of aught else. But as she recognized the young woman’s pro- tectors, there was instantly a change. She staggered back, as if struck, and every GXKI‘BSSIOD gave way' to a wild, despairing look. Iamwaring, on is part. was, in spite of his disappointment, suddenly stricken with a sense of compunction, not to say of shame. He advanced a step toward her. She motioned the coachman to drive out of hearing, and, when he had done so, herself with- drew a little further apart. As she seemed to be awaiting him, the detec- tive approached. “Has she told you yet!” were her first words. There was such an agony of suspense in them that he pitied her yet more profoundly. “ J ustine has not yet spoken your secret,” he replied. “ But the delay is but for a few brief moments. She was on the point of making the revelation when your arrival sealed her lips.” She drew a long sigh, which, however, was not one of relief. CHAPTER XXXVIII. AFTER ran REVELATION. THEN there was a flercer chan , her eyes flashed, she thrust her hand into t e bosom of her costume. Was she contemplating an assassin’s upon the French girl as a last resort for curity of that treasured secret? No: or it was but an instant’s paroxysm, if existent at all. The settled hopelessness and despair were u n her once more, and more absolutely, more pitiably than before. The detective’s sympathy went out strongly and humanely to this beautiful creature, so r- lorn and so lost in her in terious anguish. “ Issie,” he , “ w atever I have done has been in the line of my duty. But, believe me, I feel for you profoundly. If any sympathy or gentleness that I can bestow—” She silenced him by a gesture, grand in its aim ligitydanil its scéorni.h th a a o wan wt sympa orgen e- nessi” was the language of that geszire. plainer and more forcible than if spoken. “ Would you give stones to the famishigrg, vinegar-dranghts tothe dying of thirst? ith your love onl could you satisfy the heart-hunger of which perish, and you have not that to give.” Sovivid was it all, that she seemed reall to have spoken, and he found himself nnconsc ous- ly considering her significance just as if the words were fresh-fallen from her lips. “ But. Issie. this is simple madness!” said he, in an expostulating way. “ Good heavens! could you actually think to terrify that girl into silence through a whole life-time. and aaainst her own heart affair? I can’t think of such a thing as possible, or even conceivable. It seems preposterous.” She was looking at him steadily, mourn- full . Hzr lips moved, but no sound issued from hem. “ Or let us look at it in a still better light,” he went on. as if replyin to some fresh argument she had advanced. “ ow much better to yield u a burdensome secret, freely and at any cost, fuag’to have it constantly terrorizing one s own 0 Suddenly he seemed to realize that she had not actually said anything. “ Why don’t you speak to me!” he asked. “ Come, Issie, have you forgotten the confidence that you lately repoeed in me! Beautiful as you must needs be, you are not lookin well. you 5,!" Is there not something can do for on Without withdrawing her head slowly, silently, forlorn y. He would have gone on, but she silenced him with another gesture, this time a passionate and d rate one. on, suddenly seizin his hand and h it, she sped awayup the in street, like the hi of a ghost. ring e so- no, she shook her _~_.m- ... While this conversation was going on another : \ V ‘ v " I ..‘l _. i ‘ . ‘ ._'..:.,«,,..* v'. . l , . /,_ . A. , . . . , . j (“'A‘; ,_ , . i. , ,\ . , v, b v - . -. _., ‘ 3331i . 1 fl '2 . . » ~' 3 M, ,s« -- ,. _H‘L‘-t‘- ‘, , 'i '=. ‘ V _- .. \' T‘G’i 1’ ,.»A- ‘ smearing" the Salamander. 29 He watched her till she had sprung into the carriage that was awaiting her at the adjacent corner, and was driven away. Then, moodily and with something like self- reproach, he returned to the little group at the cottage gate. The touch of her lips had been as the touch of ice, and somehow he felt that that kiss upon his hand wins an everlasting farewell. “ J ustine," he said, gravely, “ your thralldom is at an end. Let us go into the house—that is, if Mrs. Whitmore has no objections.” 1n the house Justine told her mistress’s secret. The revelation was a most extraordinary one, and one that caused a weight of doubt and per- alexity to be lifted from the detective’s heart, be succeeded by a sense of quiet and content. But it had not long telling of it in Justine s peculiar way occupied the greater part of an hour, before a messenger came from Rose Hill, hurriedly inquiring for Mr. Mainwaring. The detective recognized the messenger as Imie’s own coachman. “ My young mistress is very ill, sir,” said the man. “Indeed, it is not expected that she can survive. She beseeches that you will come to her at once.” Mainwaring lost not an instant in accompany- ing the man. "Is the physician in attendance?” was his question after they had started for Rose 1 . “ Yes, sir—Dr. Jackman.” “ What seems to be the matter?” “ My mistress, it is feared, has taken poison.” The detective shuddered. “When did it happen?” “ Soon after she unexpectedly came home from her Journey sir, but a short time ago.” “ \Vhat rticulars do you know?” “ Very ew, sir. After my young mistress’s arrival—wholly unexpected, as I said before, sir—she paid no attention to the servants who were quickly gathered in the hall to greet her return, but just passed up the stairs looki like a dead~alive woman, as our housemai ex- pressed it, sir." “ Yes, yes!” “ She came back alone—that is, without Ma’m’- zelle Justine, her maid, sir—and Mary—that’s the liouseinziiil, and a good, hard-working, con- scientious girl, sir—asked if she mightn’t wait on her in her budwm‘e, sir.” “ When was she taken sick?” demanded the detective, fiercely. “ Yes, sir. I’m_ coming right to it, sir. My young mistress, sir, she went right on, without see' or hearing of us. and all we knowed was she s ammin of her budwore door. But pretty soon her be] rung, and Mary, after answering It, came tottering down again whiter’n any ghost, and saying. scared-like: ‘ Where’s James? e’s to run for Mr. Mainwariug at once, and Richard’s to fetch the doctor, on my res usi- bility. Miss 13819 has tuk poisonl’ We , sir, afore I could get my d’rections as to where to find you, Dr. kamfln. Whose house isn’t far away, you know, came hurr ing in, and then—” The detective abruptly s' enceri his loquacity, sud the mansion-house was quickly reached. Its two households were still so sharply as - rated that the mug occupied by Reuben a1- thorpe and his farm 3' W93 Wrapped in slumber- suggesting darkness, while the remainder of the mansion was alive With twinkling lights, in testimony of the tragic excitement Doctor Jackman was awaiting th detective’s arrival just outside the door of lane’s apart— en “ Is there no hope?” asked the detective. “ None.” “ Is my presence so earnestly desined?” “ Yes; and it may relieve the sufferer’s dis- treu which is, stranger enough» Chiefly men ” “ Shall I in now?‘ “Yes; it for the best.” ut as the detective was on the point of en- urge}, the physician his arm, and whis- Pe impremively: Ifsheisequaltoit, find outthetruthasto those murders ’ Mainwarin repelled him, alinOst angrily. “ The doub e crime is no longer a mystery ” he replied. “ And, even were it otherwise, Jig should not be questioned oonoernin it!" The next instant, followed by e hysician, he was in the presence of the dying 5&1. Partly undressed, and propped h h by the glglows of her sumptuous 0005311. with a weep- domestic at either side, Isaie lay with closed eyes, the {pallorof approaching death already npfin hem m b er s were upon or breast, but one of them was tightly clinched, as if clasing fast u n something ions to the last. Lig t as was the etectlve’s footfail over the tufted floor, it caused her to start and open her eyes. She motioned the servants to withdraw, and Dr. J ackman conducted them to the further end of the asmnd and palatial aloe lug apartment— I-ie’a tes had ever been 0 the most luxuri~ one—where he judiciously remained himself. Then her eyes dilated as they dwelt fingering- been made, though the ‘ ly upon the man she loved, and a faint color came into her cheeks, though the lips were smileless. Mainwaring would have iken, but an elo- quent slight gesture entrea his silence. She would gaze on him, nothing more. The time for speech by word of mouth was past. Mainwaring was no longer able to feel as pro- found a commiseration for Issie as before learn- ing the particulars of Justine’s revelation—in- deed, he was now aware of the full extent to which she had wronged him, and in a way that was only pardonahle through an excess of ma - nanimity on his part—but, nevertheless, he fe t that that lustrous dying gaze of hers was pene- tratin to his very soul with a burden of contri- tion t at it was neither manly nor human to re 'ect. eedless of her muter expressed desire to the contrary, he spoke. “Does Lois know of this?” he asked. “Shall I not bring her to on?” A passionate re usal was embodied in her an- swering gesture, feeble as it was. “Let me only look at you!” was the last speech of those burning eyes. “ Do not deny me this. Soon I shall be nothing, but only let me look at you to the last!” Presently she started up, and pressed into his fig; scrap of paper—it was that which she n so Jealousy clutching. “ Good-b ——forgive!” The wor s were just articulate. Then she was dead. The scrap of paper contained these words, doubtless written just prior to swallowing the fatal draught: “Whatever Justine may reveal to you is the truth; but oh, i loved you so!“ CHAPTER XXXIX. DAWN. THE Gliding Detective was quitting the man- sion-house, unaccompanied, and a bush had fal- len upon the illuminated part of it, in which death was now a silent guest, that was no less pro- found than that which shrouded the darkened wing thereof, wherein sloop alone was visitor. But just as he was about passing out of the entrance; with perhaps a lingering thought of Lois, and the news he would bring her in the morning, the muffled report of a pistol reached his ears. He made sure that it was from the further extremity of the darkened wing, and at once rushed in that direction. Confused voices reached him from above. He knew there was a minor staircase at this side, found it, roped his way u , and came be- fore the door 0 a room from w ich the voices proceeded, though by this time they had almost After some hesitation, he entered. It lwalstReubigi Calthorpe’s sleeping room, and, sea 1g was urnin ,a tra c s tacle re- sented itself. g Ki pee p Mr. Galthrope, undressed, was standing over the motionless andestrate form of a roughly clad man of powe ul proportions. In one hand was a still-smoking revolver, in the other .a all of paper in the form of a bank check, eviden y just abstracted from the fallen man’s person. The atter had just breathed his last. He had been shot in the breast, and his fea- tures were set in a sinister, threatening look that had become frozen there. They were the .features of the adventurer, gigolus Digby, altos Billings, alias Cracksman r e . Mr. Calthorpe turned a white but exultant face to the detective. “ Howsoever you are here.” he exclaimed, “your visit is welcome. I call you to witness that this man was killed bv me while in the commission of a bur laryl But wait!” He ran to the gas- et, glanced at the face of the paper, and held it into the flame until it was thoroughly consumed, the last vestige burn- ing u against his fln rs. “ on understand? he then asked, with an- other anxipus glance at the detective. . “ I do, sir,” was the grave repl . “ And r- mit me to say, sir, that this nig t’s advengre has been a singularly fortunate one for you.” “ I know that.” He pointed from the freshly vacated bed to the Open Window, with an overturned chair be- side it, by which the midnight entrance had been effected. Mainwaring asked no questions. in view of the satisfactory results, including the desperado‘s death. it was immaterial to him what—whether of rating demands or an actual burglarious attempt-chad provoked the fortunately fatal shot. Mr. Caltho had recovered his composure, and was d ng himself With an air of great satisfaction. “ This is well, sir,” said the detective. “ A visit to the other side of the house may he in order, after you shall have notified the authbr- ities of this aflair.” :: message‘s" as e 0 has ust died 1) her on M” the i y While the other was staring at him, Lois, fullv dressmi, came quick] into the room. or features were set, er ste mechanical, her eyes open but unseeing, a sma 1 lamp was in her hand. It wasa case of sleep-walking. Mr. Calthorpe cast an embarrassed look to- ward the detective. “My dau hter is only thus occasionally,” said he. “ he has been so from her child- hood.” “And you have kept it a family secre‘ I suppose?” H ’1 “That was wrong, when proper medical treatment might long ago have effected a cure. “You think so!” “ I know it. At all events, it was nothing to be ashamed of.” “ Of course not!” “ And yet had it not been kept a close score it might have cost two hearts a vast amount 0 suffering that has been undergone.” “ What do you mean? Do you refer ins directly to your doubtful marriage, of which I have had some vague intimationsi” “ Not indirectly, but directly." “ Explain, if you please.” “ All in good time, my dear, sir. Wait!” The somnambulist, after setting her lamp on her father’s dressing case, had come to aper- plezred pause, her hand touching her forehead. ‘ They are lost or stolen,” was murmured from her barely moving lips. “ I must find them, I must find them i” The detective drew to her side, with his glid- ing ste . “XVIEat has been lost or stolen?” he asked, modulating his voice to the same mechanical tone. “What are the missing things that must be found?” “My ring—Guy’s marriage-certificate.” “ Are you fresh from the ceremony, then!” “Yes, yes; we have just been married. But to ring and the paper—I cannot find them— I have been robbed 0 them i” . Mainwaring made a sign for the astonished parent to approach. “ Are you somewhat enlightened, sir?” he asked. “ Compleme so.” wedding-ring, and the “ It Will not do for your daughter to come to i herself here.” \Vith a gesture toward the dead robber. “ I will conduct her to the reception— room. In the mean time, you will lose no time in notifying the police of our adventure.” Mr. Calthorpe hesita —he was, unfortun- ately, aman more than half of whose life had been given to one sort of hesitation or another. “ Wouldn’t it be as well, or better,” he — ested, “for you to notify the police, w ' fl “ No, it wouldn‘t!” The detective’s face hardened. “See; the daylight is coming. It has been a night of surprises. Let us loseno time. With that, he took up the 1am , and, gently taking the slee walker’s hand, ed her, are sistingly, from e room. . It was only after the reception-room had been reached, and the door closed behind them, that he ventured to arouse the young 'rl out of her tranced condition, and explain t e immediate situation. This was, naturally, only effected with some ditficul and embarrassment, but Lois wasat last e to understand. “What is that!” she asked, as the steps of several men were heard moving heavily along the ad inin gangs. “ Iti: dong sea the police carrying away the body,” was the reply. She shuddered. “ What an end for that bad and unscrupulous man!” she exclaimed. “ Yes: a most inapplr‘opriate end!” “ I didn’t mean in t t sense.” “ But I do. It wasan unfifizing end.” “ Why!” “ Because he should have been ban It is melancholy, this cheati the judi rope. It always causes me painfu reflections” “ Obi—M father will be justified, I hope!" “ Withou a doubt.” “HowgladI am thatI did not eonietomy ‘ senses in that room. Tha . “DidIsa an thin aloud!” “Risa.” yAndy he 8to her dream-emitted “How 1” she murmured. “Whydo Ihavethat foo' ‘dneam repeated so persist- entl f” “Ink, it is because it is no dream—errather the truth reflected and tie-enacted in a dream.” i‘m“.mmm"’" wif aw ‘ you are my a, you doubtlem married me in our R “Can it be possible?" 8 ha“ over her forehead. “ It is a certainty l” “ How do you know this!" i , a} . xv. .,_ AWE s ._ A ..-—.n....._—.— m-y'x- ‘ 'm- .5. s: éygmagsma‘... ear. "7‘ 4.4.4» ‘....u...,,-...+.i.a.-.t . .. v 2; ' dogs!” she sobbed. $.50 Mainwaring, the Salamander. I I. “ Through tWo guilty confessions.” “ Confessions?” “ Yes; or rather, a revelation, on the part of Justine Deschappelles, subsequently confirmed by Issie’s lips.” “ By Issie? I am all in a whirl! But her claim to have been married to you i” ' “ All a falsehood, a Vile plot, doubtless never conceived or attempted before i” “ But she possessed the wedding ring—the certificate.” “After she had stolen them from you. Jus- tine witnessed the theft, and has testified to it, with full particulars.” “ This is amazing. I can’t for the life of me understand.” “Of course not, but you shall be enlightened at once. Here is the story. You were married tome in your sleep-walking trance. Your re- turn to our room was remarked by Iss1e, who follow you, at first doubtless out of pure curi- osity. But she was enabled to question you and receive answers (just as I did, a short time ago) without your becoming aroused. From this she gathered the particulars of your strange mar- riage, which were destined to assume, sucha blank in your memory during your waking hours. Issic tlmt misceivml and executed the first step in hwr lat. )Til‘hll-*ll‘,ll plot. She depriwd you of boil: r7111: =Ii-$_ ‘ I-r' .llt'rr‘o, midwwlll, I‘M)” can guess tho 1 «i. ,1...- ;, uni, , an, in...“ ldt.‘lll’il1.‘ti.lfilth‘,«'tti..-:Y i', -.». .2. v .- :1 t to herastountim): l. n tohave sonnri'o's' c.» l‘lu . passion for me, which was iiw i" ,t-. of it all.” Lois had grown pale, but it was tho [.n‘lvd" sup ressod indignation. “ but!” she exclaimed; thf witness.” ‘ Yes; she had seen her mistress following on, and had curiously followed lii'l‘ in her turn. ghe secretly witnessed the entire transaction, and then fled back to her own apartment “ But why did she keep back her revelation to this late day?” “ For two reasons. First, her love for Issie. and finally, when the latter came to know of her knowledge, throu h an over-mastering fear of her vengeance. he little Frenchwoman is not a heroine at her best, and Issie’s powerful will ’and bold character were enabled to terror- ize her for a time. It was only through the in- Iistance of Jardine, who is her betrothed lover, that she made a clean breast to us at last.” Lois set her teeth, and her hands clinched con- vulsively. She ced the floor in access of indignation that ainwaring would not have deemed her as ble of. ‘And she corroborated her maid’s shameful sto ” she exclaimed. (gait “ and Jus-iinc was “ Why are you so cool, so quiet over it, Guy!” the burst out. “ Have we not both been equally impowdedr, upon, equally duped, equally out- “5 Yes; and by one whose ill-governed passion must be her excuse." “ Excuse! There is no excuse for such treach- ’ cry, such infamy!” Death excuses mu .” “ Death?” . “ Issie is dead.” “ Dead? Oh, Guy!” He told her all. Lois threw herself into a chair, and burst out 1 . «x 3%, what a house is this for tragic hap n- “ I am frightened, I am alf beside myself!” - He drew her, all unresisting now, into his embrace. “ ou shall therefore soon quit it, this ill- omened house, with me!” he murmured, im- printing a kiss upon the tear-dimmed eyes, the tear-stained cheeks, the trembling lips. “My wife, my beloved, my darling! henceforth we are one, to sever and to part no more.” “Yes, Guy, forever and ever!" she sobbed. . “ We have suffered so much, and henceforth we areto be happy, I am sure. But oh, Guy! she . was so young, so bright, so beautiful and so eons!” “ And so ill-starred! Let that beadded, rather \ than to add that she was so wicked.” -“-Yes, Gu that is well. We all hava our ' Y " - faults, and if poor Issie's were exceptional, so were her many good qualities.” ,“Enough of this, my beloved] Away with ' these tears! Joy is rising for us like the sun of I this new morninfidthat is broadeningfio brightly l and so freshly. y love, my bride She at last smiled at him through her tear- drops. “ My rental” she presently murmured. “Itlnnk I can answer for Mr. Caltho ’s satisfaction,” said the lover-husband, rat er dryly. “And as for your worthy mother, my dear—well, if she should object to her son-in- ‘aw, it will be strictly on the quiet, I confident- ly predict.” u’nt Mainwarin ’3 present ha iness was so t, so unalloy , that even t e tho ht of . Calthorpe in the light of a mother— n-law could not diminish it. But Lois only submitted a moment to his pas- sionate embrace before disengaging herself from his arms. “ There is still something else,” she faltered, casting down her e es. “ We cannot be happy —ou ht not to—-be ore that.” “ hat is it, my darlin l” “ We must be marri over again. you—don’t you see that we must?” He checked a laugh, and grew as grave as she. “ You are perfectly right,” he admitted. “ And our remarriage—let it be a wakeful one this time, Lois 1” Then the suppressed laugh would have its way, and Lois joined in it. “ You have been the chief sufferer in the past, Guy ” said she, after a pause. . ‘ ‘andidly speaking, my dear Lois, I believe I have been.” “ I know it. On that account I am going to surrender a privilege to you.” “ You are going to let me fix and name and arrange the new marriage?” “ Yes—but you won’t be inconsiderately hasty i” “ N 0; so I shall set the matter at rest instant- ly. We shall be privately married to-morrow Inorning~” “ ()h, (‘ruyl so soon, and with Issio’s death—” " You must remember that it will not be a. marriage, but u more formal ratification of “ Don’t , tat J, I :~: nncmly t :l.~n place. h‘hn’n’t 1 go on?” r' ' :‘nrii lnl' i‘nl't- upon iis shouldcrinns- '2‘ 1‘ Wu" ho g"i\"'."-"V 'trn‘tlsnl l "'. w. ll“,u:‘.i‘é\;"’. r I‘HW‘W o, iv 'u'l- 'lll‘i‘ r"; .. . 1: olzsi'w it.» :