“JUulW'V'J' “ ‘. U l: “'i I "‘l"']'1h?" C m u 4 ‘m “HI. n H w “1 [1- Mr" .4, Cop Yrkhtod, 1395. m HEAIILE AND ADAMS. N 7 5 2 Published Every 0' 0 Wednesday. QBeadZe 9% fldarns, (Ejublishers, EsTrzluw AS SECOND CLASS MATK‘ER AT rm; Nuw Yuux. N. Y.. I’us'r OFFICE. “Imuh :2. 1393. T338353" V01. LVHL 98 WILLIAM STREET. NEWV YORK. \.__._...__..__ A d- X: , “I on, The Hounded Detective. 1 Romance of Southwest Colorsdo. BY .1. (‘. (,‘UWDRN‘K. KI'THOR (m “ m'rx'rs max," “THE IMMINlI-Z Jnc'l'l-x "l‘l \‘ 1-1, " 1-1113, E’l'( ‘. CHAPTER I. DARK 5H.\IN)\\' HP “ESTIXY. AT Denver, (010111411), 0n 11w nftvrnnun Of a Sim-“did summe day, it 5mm: Hum was sum-d in HM- I‘leiHLI-I'Unnl Hf :L It‘miinu huh'l idly smxming a m-wqmwr nf‘ rm-n-nt duh: “4’ was mull-r thirty yt-nrs n!‘ my; ulmw “10 medium in ht-ighL and [Wopm‘timxx do- \Xfi tam z-»- I ll 'HIIIHH' v.1 Il, H lmafHH ‘ “-\\\ “ ‘\\ ' "m, THE NEXT MOMENT THE NOW TRH'MI‘IIANT DETECTIVL M'BL’M; I PON THE \VOMAN ASSASSIN. out: 1 :35, t, v.- . suspedtsport offnaisy Drift- ' eidedly good-looking, and altogether a mag- nificent specimen of physical manhood and the accomplished athlete: lie was dark, with black hair and mustache, and had pierc- int,r black eyes. l’lainly clad in a well-titling suit of some dark. serviceable material. a soft t'elt hatand *alf boots. and being without jewelry or or nament of any kind, there was nothing in his dress to att 'act attention: yet few personsl Would pass him by without a second glance. ‘ There was something about him which seem- . ed to command it. .\nd that. something” i Was his general appepanee. niutely sugars l tiVe of ease. grace. elegance~in short, C'Very- thing bespeaking’ the gentleman. ‘ And stair John lleathcote was. lentle I | | .— u blood tlowed lll his veins, and he. stood head and shoulders aboVe “ the common herd ” by right of birth, education and polished man- ners. lie was all his appearance indicated, ‘and more. lirav - as a lion, he was a terror j to his foes; gentle as a woman, he wasadored ‘; by his friends. lie was l'ainiliarly known as l “(genteel John." :John lleatheote was a man whom grim Destiny had chosen to play a leading 'I'o/(B in the stern drama of life. As a deteelch with— out a peer; as an outlaw proscribed and hounded, yet really innocent of wrong; as : merciless scourge against crime and crimi- nals, and yet withal a Very king among men; his name. was destined soon to find place on ' every tongue. But. he knew nothing yet of what the inunediate future had in store for him. The. seal had not. been broken; thehid- den page was yet unread. (lenteel .lohn was superintemlentof a mine in the wild country miles north from Denver, at a place called Daisy Drift. It was there that his princely bearing and manly qualities had won for him the appellation “ Genteel,” the word expressing in brief everything that was complimentary. ' O The mine of: which he had charge was known as the “Job‘s Find." It. had been i diseoVerml by one Job Wellertree. and at first i had home that gentleman's namein full; but i that being found ‘too unwieldy for every- l day use, it had been cut down to its present brevity. 'l‘he mine. was run bv a stock com- pany, of which one (‘olenel Mark Lyndon was chief owner and president. Colonel Lyndon was a man of fifty-five, a resident of llenver but having a. summercot- ’ tage at Daisy Drift. Ills family consisted of t his wife and a son and udaughter. Thoson, ; "Jackson, wasa oung man of twenty-two; t. the daughter, -'ydia, being three years l younger. i l John H 'athcotc had fallen in love with Nydia' Lyndon at; sight. and on her part the gentle passion, had been reciprocal; and, tin- ally, John had psked, for herhand in mar- riage. l'lis request was granted; there had been a quiet wedding at Daisy Drift; and I now. alter a two Weeks’ tour, the happy“? couple were returnng home. ‘ They were stopping over fora day or two at DenVer, and so. on this ul'terrmon, we find John II. 'atheote seated in the hoth reading- ro‘om as described. His bride,'at the time, was in their room . entertaining some of her girlhood chums who i ,had called. lie was scanning the taper idly, as said, when something arrested lis eye, it was a brief pamgmph, as followa: “Hon. Murdock Kinross will arrive at Denver to. night, and will put up at: the Hotel as usual." “Honorable, indeed“ he mused. “ A robber of orphans, and in; the sight of lien- vcn a murderer, too. To hiscrueltreatment my poor mother's death was due. It was a ‘ sad day for her and me. when she became. his wife; Let me," ret him; and I'll remind him how honorable to is. ” As he meditated thus the young man's face took on a hard, stern expression, and the tire of hatred burned in ,his keen, flushing eyes. . , Casting the paper from him. he rose and began pacing up and down the room with 'nerVous strides. ' “Twenty years ago. when I' was but a ‘ ,child,” he reflected, “my father died. He ' .had confidence in Murdock Kinross and up ointed him as uardian over me, intrusi- g a fortune wit 1 him for me when] should i“ ivzbecome of age. About three years lateri my mother married the rascal, givin r him ' boon-oi over her own fortune, whit: was‘ ( 3' It , her husband's hands. I do nothing. one of which hurt my poor mother a good deal more than it hurt me, i was sent. away to a school where my mother paid for a num- ber of years‘ tuition in advance. Only for that i do not knowwhat I might have. be- come." I He walked with bowed head, his thoughts leaving a burningr impression 11pm: his brain as they passed. “While l was at Stilleol,"lle continued musing, “my poor mother died. I after ward learned that. her death was hastened by the brutal treatment. she had received at Soon after her death he sent. notice to the school \\’ll(l‘(‘ Iwas, that] was to be turned out as soon as my termexpirul, it must have galled him to learn that, l \\':‘s ‘nlitlcd to the years more, and that all my expenses had been paid in’ full for that time. lie. tried to get the money back, to cheat me out of even that, but he was foiled. l served another year there, when l was passed along [on college to finish my course. [owe the man boili- ingwnot hing save the merited hatred [cher— ish for him. llonorable‘l Yes, he is an honorable villain. capable of any evil that will serve him best." ' - The young man's hands were now clinched. his brow was knitted in a dark frown, and hissteps were more quick and nervous than ever. . “And he is coming here to this hotel to- night, is he." he comnumed with himself. “ i will see him and once, more demand the fortune he has elieatcd me out of~the for- tune that '218 left, me by my father. When came of age, and demanded 'whatI had been told was mine to have, I was laughed at. lie had made away with every penny of it, and by some crook in the law had placed himself in such a, position that Ieould Ile. laughed at me, snapped his fingers in my face, and told me to go to work and earn my bread, as I need not ex- pect anything from him. I could do that—- was doing it then, and-” . He had passed out to the piazza now, and at that, point in his reverie he \vasinterrupted. A soft. white hand slipped under his arm, and a sureet face looked up into his own. It was his bride, who, her callers having gone, had come out upon the-piazza to look for him where she had left him an hour be- fore. , v “ Why, John,” she exclaimed, “ what has come oVer you»? You look as if you are angry with the whole world. “'hat can havelumpencd to make you frow‘n like that? I am really afraid of you." lenteel John had stopped in his walk, had taken the two little hands into his own. and as he looked down upon the pure, sweet face of his bride a. smile chased the shadmvs quickly from his brow and he cheerfully responded: ‘ “ I am not angry with you, .my' pet; of' that you may be sure. It is nothing you need be troubled about, but] will tell you what mused the. frown. I have told you all about myself more than once. I have just noticed in the paper that my adored step- father is coming here to-niv'rht, and memories of the past were- in my mind. That is all,_ little one; and nowtlet us go to our room. " With that he drew her arm through his own, and led her into the hall, the forced smile still upon his face. while hers was sweetly pensive. as though there Was some thing of fear in her mind. ' As they disappeared from 'Bight a man stepped into View from aroundthe other side of the piazza. l ' lie. was a tall man. not badrlooking, and was well dressed; but his face was distorted with rage and held an ,e‘xpression of fierce hatred. “ Expoy her while vou inn ", John lieath- eotc!“ to fairly hissed. as he ooked toward the door through which the happy couple had' just passed. " Your time is to be short. for swear you shall not long retain the prize you snatched from me!" He crossed the piazza, grating his teeth in rage as he [unset the door, and going on, disappeared down the street. , T llS man was one Osmond Millfield. , He had been J‘ohn Iieathqotc’s rival for the hand of .Nydia'ilyndon. , . ‘ [to John'ir success .he had laid his own , . no small one. After I had received numer- l defeat, and now he burned with desire for ous cuifs at the hands of the wreteh, every : revenge. l'nwilling to see that he. could never have won the lady anyhow, even with John out of the field. his one thought was to ruin her happiness. since it had been denied him to' possess llt‘i‘. Milliield was a stockholder in the Jobs , Find, and a man of considerable wealth and not a little intlucnce. Ile wasalmut thirty liveyeal's of age. and was used to having things pretty much ashe desired. llis threat was no idle one. He meant every word he had uttered; and, could (len- lccl John have lucn aware of it, there were terrible trials just ahead for him. lleathcote and his bride passed up to their room, and John closed the door when they cntcred. Scarcely sooner had they entered than, greatly to Jchn’s surprise. l\'ydia (ovclcd her ace with her hands and dropped upon a chair, giving way to a ilood oi teats. John sprung toher side. instantly, knelt up on the floor before her and endeavored to draw her hands away from her face. while he implored to know the cause. of her sudden outburst of grief. “ Nydia! Nydia, dear!" he cried. "What is it 1’ Tell me what has caused you to weep like this!" Ilis tone was full of agony. I lie could not. imagine what had come so suddenly to cloud the spirit of his happy bride. > ' For some time her sobs and tears were his only answer, but presently she threw her arms around his neck, presbed her tear-wet. face to his, and cried: “ John! I know something terrible is go- ing to happen! Lam afraid you are going to be taken away from me! Something heavy has been upon my it hit ever since we reach ed Denver. What can it be?” " Nonsense!" John exclaimed . lightly. though his face was pale. and a sudden chill had seized his heart. “ You are tired, per- haps half ill. and your fears are groundless. You must rest, and tomorrow you will be yourself again. There, there, little one, don‘t cry !" - . Immediately had come another outburst of weeping, and in spite oil is best efforts John found it. impossible to stop the flood. It Set'llltétl as though the heart of his bride must, break under the terrific strain, And it. look- ed so urn-*asonable, too, her weeping; so al- most foolish that she sltould cry. Suddenly came a calm, as suddean as had been the breaking of the storm, on; in mg her hands upon John’s shoulders and loo 'ing steadily into his eyes, Ny‘din addressed him rapidl ' and earnestly, ‘ Amfas her words fell upon his ears John ll utbeote felt the blood recede from his tace, and,'strong man as he was, he trembled. The first dark shadow of a terrible destiny had fallen upon his life. i CHAPTER II. . TnE In.th ABOUT To FALL, NEVER, to John, had I\'ydia looked more beautiful. He caught her to his breast, showering kisses upon her pale. tear-wet face. “ You shall not be taken from mel’ThG ('ried. “ 'l‘hese are only idle, foolish fears, my little pet." . g.- u , Ytt his voice was husky as he uttered the words. tears dimmed his oWn eyes, rind he could not shake off the dread apprehensions. “ i hope not, dear John. I hope not.“ was the sad, sorrowful response. “ but i imagine i can feel the icy hand of Death already at mv heart. I feel thatl inn-—” ‘ No! no! no!" John interrupted. are too fair and young tedic? Such ideas must he banished from your mind, N ’(liiifi my love. and health. and—" I “'But] cannot get rid of the impression, John. becomes stronger and heavier each hour. A heavy sword is hanging by a single thread. over" our shortlivcd happiness, and I know it is soon to fall.“" ‘ u I. (“moo—I will not believe it!" John" cried. “No harm shall come to you, m darling, I will stand between you and an .I possible danger that may threaten. to defe. “ You I You are in the. very bloom 0 life ‘ It has taken hold upon me, and it' ' r .m' ,-.,. . .- »..g._a *- .m— ‘i v ? :4». ‘ ». s 2..- I" '«a we“; ,"-'~._wx,._a. ,‘ 4w $w~ .A. w .02 ' ~+$ki¥.uy' (14019;? t, ;..; H... .v f a o you with my life. There is nothing to fear :-s'.-n-. E. ft i. l . t . ,4. NE». -_ ‘- "35- ti. swarm-fin.” ,7. . .V. and you must banish the dreadful thought at once." ‘ “I have tried to do so, John, but I have tried in vain." “But, tell me, love, what possible danger can be threatening you?" “ Oh! I do not. know: but. I do know it is hovering oVer me. and its shadow comes nearer each moment." “It is impossible, Nydia, impossible. You are in the very bud of life: full of health and youthful vigor. Death dare not approach you. .\nd as to cncmies——" “ Enemies we have, John, as you know,“ was the quick interruption. “ And it is our Cnemiesl fear. No, do not ,laugh at. me; I am terribly in earnest. Something tells mel shall never see Daisy Drift again." ‘ Gcnteel John tried to force a laugh, to break the spell which had come ovr-r his bride's sunny nature, but he miserably fail- ed. “ Our enemies," he cogitated; “pray who are they? I was on the point of saying we have no- enemies. " “ But you know we have," Nydia persist- ed. “Osmond Milllield is your enemy, and Ifear him greatly. And there is Frances Cantril, who loved you so madly, and who threatened -to destroy my happiness if you married me.” “\Vc can laugh at. them all,” declared John. “We have nothing to fear from them, loved one." ‘ “ I ho . not, oh! I ‘hope not, John; but Madam ifcdell and her daughter are here, in this very house; and such a look as Frances gave me in the hath—it almost made my heart stop heating.” The reader is entitled toa word of explana- tion just here. Not only had John Heathcotc had a rival, but N 'dia Lyndon as well. At )aisy Drift was a summer hotel, grow- ing rapidly in favor and quite fashionable in :a small way. , At this hotel, about the time when John Heatheotc had come to Daisy Drift, had ap- peared one Madam Iredcll and her daughter- ’I‘he daughter’s name was Frances Cantril. She was achild of her mother’s first mar- riage, a rather handsome girl, but far too austere—haughty. - . She had fallen deeply in love with Genteel . John at their flrSt meeting, and had begun a desperate flirtation to draw him to her side; _ and John with nothing better to engage him, had lent himself for a time to her wiles. But she had ' never succeeded in kindling oue spark of love in his heart." There was nothing about her to awaken more than ss— ing interest. llcr mother, John had decided, was little better than a scheming adventur- ess, and‘thc daughter promised fair to be.- come the same. With the coming to the camp of Nydia Lyndon, however, a flame of love had burst forth in John‘s breast at almost his first sight of her, and all hope that Frances (lantril had entertained regarding him was immediately dashed to the ground. This she soon real- ized; she tried to part him and Nydia; failing in this, she uttered a terrible threat against their happiness. “ You have nothing to fear from any of them,” John tried to reassure, responding to the last words of his bride. “They can. do you no harm here, and to-morrow we will go on to Daisy Drift.” ’ Could he have foreseen what was 'to fol- low, not another hour would Nydia have been allowed to remain in that house. But, chosan of Destiny for thcrole he must ‘ plav, he could not foresee, much less avert. The rest of the afternoon was spent in their room. ’ Bv persistent effort John at. last succeeded ydiuk thoughts, in some de‘ in diver inf; IV gree, an s w became more cheerful. They had Willie" Served in their room, as , nmthqr had any desire to meet Millfield, Miss- ' Were'likd)’ to meet \One ofall of them at the table. A little while after their supper was over, _ ‘ some of Nydia’s callers of the afternoon re. ' . =-tumed. with others. and after chatting with them for awhile John excluser himself and "Unwent down to the reading-rdom to smoke a . c1 , r, with the desire still in his mind to ‘ meet his step-father, Hon. Murdock Kin— Stopping at the office he looked at the' register. fi‘he last name. inscribed thereon was that ‘ of the man he desired to encounter. Turning from the register he looked around i the room, and while he looked )lr. Kinross5 came in from the diningroom. lie was a man of fifty or tln-reabouts, port- ly, and with a very self-important air. llis dress was “loud,” he wore a gold chain of massive links across his Vest, and a huge. seal adorned the little finger of his left hand. ‘5 lie. crossed oVer in the. direction of the of— 3' lice desk, and was almost ,upon John before 5 he reeognircd him. When their eyes met a slight. pallor was i. seen for a moment upon the face of the: I lonorable. “ 1 see you i'(.-cogni7.e me,” Murdock Kin- ross,” John addressed him at once. “Yes, young scalawag," was the loud- mouthed retort. “ I recognize you. “'hat do vou want?" I\inross spoke loudly enough to draw at» tention, and all who were present turned to learn what was going on. ‘9 “l want what. is due me, for one thing, and that first and foremost." was the young man’s cool retort. “I want justice at your hands.” “Bah! I don‘t know what you are talkingr about!” cried Kinross. “ I owe you nothing; or if I do, just name the sum and I will dis- charge the debt here and now." With that he thrust his hand into his pocket and drew out some small change, displaying it so that all might See. It was an insult; it was intended us'such, and it raised a laugh at John's expense. “ Put up your change!” John said, calmly, and his words Were clear and ringing. “ What I want is the fortune you robbed me of—thc fortune that ' 8 left me by my fath- er, who mistook you or an honest man when be appointed' you my guardian, intrusting it to your care. ” “ You infernal young upstart!” the Hon- orable cried in rage, “ what. do you mean by such talk to me? I’ve a notion to twist your nose for you. W'hat would you be today if it hadn’t been for‘me? Your fortune, as you call it, was spent upon you Ion, ago, and the case has been properly sett ed by the courts. Get out of my sight, you whelp!" . “ on are a liar, sir,” rctorted John, cool— ly, calmly. “ Never one penny of it have I received 'in any manner whatever. You 3 even tried to apprmiriatethe little my mother } had wisely? set apart for my edumtion, as it .will not be hard for me to prove. To your brutal treatment her .early death was due, proof, of which I have. This, gentlemen,” to the bystanders, “is the Honorable Murv dock Klnross, robber of—‘J’ , With a snarl of rage Kinross sprung for- ward and dealt John a slap on the cheek, cutting him short. . The next instant he would have been sent flying across ‘thc’ room, but John held back the blow which his muscles were already st run if to deliver. “ho. I'will not strike you,” he fort-ml himself to say.‘ “ You are an older man than I. But, bear in. mind, Murdock KinroSs, that I will never forget, and sooner or later you shall be broughhtp account for the wrongs you have done me.” “ Bah! get out of my sight before ‘I strike you again!" Kinross cried. “You are only a car, at best. You are a nobody, and you have no claim upon me. Out of my sight, I say! The only. moment of ’ respectability you or your tribe ever knew was whenI condescended to marry your mother—~—” ' With abound Genteel John was upon him, his hands at his throat. ‘ u " You dare to mention her namel” he cried. and——" ~ . t The bystanders interfered, and the young man was pulled away by force, leaving Kin- ross‘palc and trembling. r In a moment John had recovered himself, ceased to struggle, and was released by those who had been holding him for the few brief seconds. “Thank you. gentlemen, for your inter: feronoe,” he spoke. “ I might‘have donethe brute some lasting harm. But, mind you, Murdock Kinross," shaking his fist at the r tiny was upon them. “Her blood is upon. your head k now badly frightened Honorable, “your day of reckoningr will come.” And with that the young man turned and left the room, not wanting to trust himstlf longer in the prcsent‘c of this man whom he hated so heartily-hated with just and suiii- cient cause. \l'hcn he had gone and Kinross had recov— ered himself in a measure, the rascally "lion- orable ” gave the witnesses to the suit: the benefit of his Version of the nmtter. Filtiiixlllg : of John in by no means enviable it‘l'lll:-.. John had gone out to the pial’zia. \k i We be lighted a cigar and paced up and down for a time to quiet his nerves. By the time the cigar was half consumed he was himself again. and throwing the v eed away he entered the house and “Hit up to his room. Ilis bride‘s callers were about taking thcir leave. and soon he and Nydia were alone to— gether. Nytlia was quite cheerful. now, and en- gaged John in a sprightly talk thafilasted till a late hour. It was near midnight before they thought of sleep. About the time when they realized how late it was. and began preparations for retir- ing, there came a knock at their door. .lohu opened it, and a call-boy delivered a tclegl‘am‘ into his hand, greatly to his sur- prise. Tearing it open immediately, its contents surprised him still more. It was dated or headed “city,” and read as follows: . “ I am in town. Come. at onca to the house. Must see you. Of the greatest importance." The message was signed Jackson Lyndon, and closing the door John turned to Nydia and rod it aloud to her. It puzzled them, to understand why her brother was in Den- ver. Nydja; all atremble, urged John to go at once. Perhaps it Was Jackson who was threatened with dan er; not herself! The second shadow 0 that terrible des- CHAPTER III. GENTEEL JOHN FALSELY ACCUSED. JOHN made hasty preparations to set out. Kissing his bride a tender. goodby, he started. with a promise to return as quickly as possible. ‘ Their room was on the second floor, in the left wing of the hotel, and it was quite a distance down to the main entrance, through two balls of considerable length. Genteei John passed along the first hall at a lively pace, turned into the second and hastened on to the stairs, down which he hurried with light, springy steps, and was nmring’the bottom when a horrible thing happened. He heard a groan, followed by running steps; then other and heavier ste )8 as of a drunken man, just below him. be next instant a man suiggered into sight, and as John reached the bottom of the stairs, for he» had not stopped, the man fell upon the floor at his feet. And, that was not all. horror that the hot life element was spurt- ' ing from a wound in his back, from which a knife had been dislodged when he tell. And. and more to his horror Still, he rec-0g. niz'ed the man. It was his step-father, lion. Murdock Kinross. with whom he had so re“ cently quarreledl ‘ ' ' Before John could stop, for it had all taken ilace within a eriod of three seconds, be ad rwehed the ttom and one foot was ac-' -. tually touching the dying1 man,.an('l there for the moment he stood, all iut mullyzcd with horr'or. ‘ ' ‘ And almost at the same time the front .1 ‘ i opened and two men stepped into the hall; '- one of whom was Osmond Millfield. , They. too, stopped short; like, John. for»: the instant horrified. . . v- I v ‘In almost e, same monient, too, vet a fraction later, a side door opened, ant sev- eral men came out from the .oflice, evidently guests about to retire. ‘ “ Heavens! ter eitclaimed. t “ It looks like a murder!” another cchoéd.. ; “And it is a'rnurder, gentlemen,” 5 he Osmond Miilfleid, coming. toward them tom the front door; “ and this man,” Genteeldohn, "is the murderer!’ John noted with What’s this?” one of thé .iatjffl pointing at- . «at. 1, ‘ i for the time being safe. . Suspect John I-Ieathcote quickly realized the (Ian gerous predicament he was in. ' It was plain that Millfield meant. to swear against him falsely. catchng at this oppor- ‘ tunity for revenge. “ You utter a dnmnable lie!" he cried hot- ly, stepping over the body and facing his ac- ‘cuser “As God is my witness, you speak a black. a monstrous lie!” Midfield smiled sneeringl y. " That bold. blustcring front will not serve on." he returned "I saw you do the hell- lsh deed. We opened the door just as you s'ruck the blow, and as your victim tell you dropped the knife. ' “ Your words are as false as you are infa- mous!" cried John. , " I submit it to my companion, Mr. Spark» ers," quietly referred Millfleld “ It is the truth, what you say.” that worthy promptly supported. " I witnessed it myself " Gentcel John felt the blood recede from his face. and a chilliness seized him. How was he to disprove this damning evidence? “And I swear that you lie, both of you!” he cried. ' {was coming down the stairs and was near the bottom when this man staggered and fell where he lies, right in fronf of me. ’ You 0 ened the door a moment later. By all that hold sacred. gentlemen, I am in nocent of this charge." ‘ “It is no use." sneercd Millflcld. “We - saw you do the deed, and I guess our word will be taken a ainst ours. I am pretty confident that mine. wil , anyhow. Gentle- men, we must arrest this fellow." The loud talking had attracted others from the:oflice, and now there were a dozen in the John stepped back, displaying a revolver. “Iam innocent, gentlemen," he declared again, and I shall resist arrest. I warn you to keep your hands ofl‘ me." “ Who is the murdered man?" inquired the night clerk. ‘ The man was lying face downward, and had now ceased to breathe. “It looks like the man the accused had the high words with early in the evening." was sug ested. The c erk and another laid hold upon the dead man and turned the body over, so that the .face might be seen. “ So it is, sure enough!" the clerk dxelaim- " And he made threats against him, if you remember,” Millfleld recalled. “I made no threat against his life," cried John “ I am no murderer, and I warn you to keep your distance." “Then who did'do the deed?” asked the clerk. f‘I don’t know,” John answered. “I heard a groan, immediately followed b Ste 3 running toward the rear of the hal, an‘ the next moment the man fell at my feet as I reached the bottom of —the stairs. God knows I speak the truth.” “ d we know that you speak slab!” cried illflcld. "Men,Icharge him with the murder of Murdock Kinross. Arrest him at once!" . Y . Genteel John's eyes flashed, and his revol- ver came up breast'high. “Again I declare my innocence, and I warn you to keep ofl’," he cried. “I am suddenly called out bya telegram. and must respond. After that I will return. Stand . out of my way. " The door had been left open behind Mill- “fleid and his companion. and Johmmoved toward it. ' ,. ‘ “ Stop himl"-cried Millfield. placing him- self in the way. “If we allow him to get. out of our hands now.’ it may ive the _, authorities trouble to find him. Tie must f not escape. We must capture him at all—"’ John's fist closed his mouth. cuttin short ‘. his words,,and he was sent in lorious y into ‘ a corner, while John cleared t c intervening ' space with a bound. and was gone. q A few swift-running strides carried him to , the end of the piazza, a leap landed himu on‘ -" L I the sidewalk. and in a few moments be ad ‘ turned a street corner and was out of sight, He had pulled the door to behind: him on leaving the hall of the hotel, and two or three men springing after him at once, all ,Im'nbling for the knob together and hin~ de ring one another greatly; b(y the time they got. the door open, John had isappcared. ' lies gone!” cried the man Sparkers. “We must put the police after him as soon as possible! ' “ l m afraid he's likely to get away now," remarked the clerk. “We shouldn't have ails-Wed him to get out of our hands like that ” ' “ Don t see how it was to be helped," ob- served onc. “ I guess none of us wanted to get shot. See how he upset the man who did try to stop him. lie was desperate " " Yes.‘ cried Millf‘urld, who had gathered himself up and now appeared upon the piazza; “and don't his action prove his guilt? lt would be enough, almost, even if we hadn't witnessed it as we did. That man must be taken " Meanwhile John was hastening from the scene. Ilis brain was in a whirl, the result of the retreat horror and excitement. lie had acted upon the impulse of a mo- ment, feeling it imperative that he should obey the summons from Jackson Lyndon. '10 have submitted to arrest would have balked his responding to the urgent telegram. and he knew it must be something of greatest importance that had led Jackson to send for him. But, this awful crime, and the horrible accusation that had been made against him!— madc against him falselyl Had he not, by his actions. added to the weight of appearances a ainst himself? He feared soyyet. he woul do the same again under like circumstances. But, then, was he in such frightful danger? He could prove. the telegram 2 e could prove by Jackson Lyndon why he had been sum- moned; and would not the truth rise triumphant? Still the danger of his situation was not to be underesti ated. As his mind grew In re calm, the darker the dilemma rose before him. He had quarreled with his step-father that evening. and had uttered threats. Worst of all, two men averred that the had struck the blow. There was but one thing to do. and that was to submit to arrest and trust the matter to Providence. Knowing his innocence, he believed the truth wouid be established and that he would be cleared of the horrible char e. To run away would be equivalent to a mitting himself guilty, in the public mind. That would never do. He pressed on. wondering what Jack could want of him, and thinking of the frightened bride he had left at the hotel. Would she hear of this matter before he could get back again! He hoped not. How would she stand it when the horrible news was broken to her? Could it be that this was what had been preying upon her mind and heart in premonitory influence? ‘ Making all possible haste, he arrived in due time at the Lyndon residence. The house was closed and dark, and there was not a sign of life anywhere about it. Truth to tell, Jackson Lyndon was at that hour sound asleep in the family cottage at liaisy Drift. He had not been n Denver at a l! The message John had received had been a decoy. A great and terrible blow was soon to fall, blasting his happiness and changing forever the. purpose of his life. It was grim Destiny's decree. \ Unmindful of appearances. John sprung up the steps and rang .the bell. Of course there was no response. He rung again and again. but the result was the same. , “ If he has been here he has gone awn again." John mentally decided. “ Still, I' i give it one more trial.” He rattled the. bell once more. 'and waited. And while he stood there he fancied the night was growing lighter. The door had become more plainly Visible. It must be his imagination, he thought. But, no; it was growing brighter still; and, see, his shadow a pears on the side of the doorway, and— a! the alar of fire is heard! - _ John wheeled around instantly and looked. Off in the directiomfrom which he had come was the crimson glare. ‘ The fire seemed to be further awn than the hotel, and with a thought for Ny in and had witnessed the ‘ crime, declaring that 10 was the man who ’ down from the stoop and set out on a run. ’ Thoughts of the recent murder and his own peril were out of mind now, and he was concerned only for his bride. \Vhaf ifthe hotel itself were on fire! That thought seemed no time in reaching the neighborhood of the hotel. As he turned the last corner, what was his. horror to find the hotel all ablaze. with the angry serpent-tongues of flame darting forth from almost every window. He paused not, but with the single thought of rescuing his bride, hastened on and plunged into the doomed building. CHAPTER IV. DESTINY (‘LAIMS man VICTIM. THE hotel was a wooden structure, al» most as dry as tinder, and when the fire was discovered it was too late to do any. thing to save the building. “The alarm was giVen, of course, but it was without hope that the firemen could do more than protect adjoining property. At the time of the discovery most of the guests of the house were asleep in their rooms, while those who were awake. were mostly in the hall where the terrible murder had been so recently committed. The main body of the building was speedily Wrapped almost entirely, eSpceially the left. From the right wing was a rear stairway,. guests in the right had slightly the advan- tage. The cry 0 fire was sounded as soon made to arouse the inmates, but the spread of the flames was so rapid that it was im- mediately feared that many would be cut off and lost. Those below, escaped, of course, {finying the body of the murdered man with em. A large crowd had gathered and the ex- how frightened she would be, John sprung" sccmed to lend wings to his speed, and he- in flames, cutting off escape from the wings. but from the left there was none, so the- as the discovery was made, and every effort. citemcnt was great when Genteel John made- his appearance, and he pushed his way to one who happened to be in his way. the front without respect or regard for any Was not the life of his bride at stake?’ ‘ Should he pause at such a time as that? ‘ Heaven forbid the thought of personal dangerl Forward he plunged. as said, and into the doomed building from which even the fire-- “That’s the murderer!" some one shouted,. as he disappeared. “ Yes, that‘s him! But he‘s gone to his. death; he‘ll never come out of that.furnace H alive. ~ “If he does we'll have him.”, declared a. _ l men had withdrawn. , policeman who had been made aware of ‘the 1‘ terrible tragedy that had taken place. i “ You‘ll never get anything but his ashes,” 1 averred a fireman. “ The building is going i to fall in less than another minute; I’m bet- ‘ ? ting on it." And so remark and comment mn. Genteel John had heard no words save the . first, which stung him to the quick. , 1 A murderer-he who had never done harm . to a fellow being in all his life. so far as he . knew. A murderer. The Words rung in his ears as be bounded 3 up the stairs. dashing into the blinding and suffocating cloud of smoke‘and the scorch- ing breath of flames. heeding them not. 10 knew the way; turned into the left wing; dashed along the hall; turned into the next hall; and still on to the room where he knew his bride had been. where he hurled himself against the door without trying it. The door. gave way with a crash and he was precipitated into the room headlong, out of breath and almost ready to fall. (latching up a chair he shivered one of the windows with a single blow and thrust his head out to get another breath, which he must have or perish. ‘ Iie wasted no time. lose. All the windows below were pouring- forth tongues of flame. and the air was sohot that it was almost blistering his skin. He sprung to the bed, feeling for the form of his loved one, but she was not there. He felt It was empt . He groaned in des air. ready made her escape. v \ There was no time to . for the chair where he had left her sitting. ’ Then, surdenly. and for the 'rst time,. came the thought that perhaps she had a1;- ‘a.. “on” é—mhpc'wia....s 4 m H" Q“ . . r a aw. 7 who“). ' ~ ._- Th. 1*..1 ,. 1"? "r iii.- énvfl‘vw )fj‘. #n J 'v 1 ‘1 The suspect: sport a Daisy Drift. * If that were so. then he must not delay :another second or he would never get out alive himself. He could not live another minute in such a hell as that. Taking one more breath at the window he dashed out into the hall, which was now lighted by the glare of flames that had lick- ed through in many places, and started for the stairs with desperate speed. ' As he turned the bend in the first hall a breath of cold air fanned his face and part- ly cl *ared the smoke away, and there in the ,L'lare, leaning against the wall, he saw his bride, her face pale, her hands clasped, and despair plainly stamped upon her counte~ mmce. With a bound he was at her side, grasping her arm. “Nydia!” he cried, joyfully. “ John!" “Quick, my loVe! Get upon my back! I will save mu or we will perish here together! Quick! (lute/r ."’ With the conrmand he dropped upon one knee in front of her, his back toward her, taking this means of carrying her in order to have the free use of his hands and arms. He did not see what took place in that critical moment. A turn in the air brought a furnace blast from the opposite direction, and feeling a pair of arms clasped around his neck he rose and started with his burden in the direction of the stairs. ‘ He could not know that it was not ’ his 'bride he carried; that at the fatal moment another person had pushed her aside and had taken her place. He heard a scream, but he had heard more than one since entering the doomed building. He was powerless to help any one save his bride, and he might not be able to rescue even her. , When he came to the staircase. the roar of the flames was deafening and the intense heat uvcl'powcr'ing. .\ weaker man might have \ilt‘t‘lllllllt‘tl there and then, but not So Gen- ltt‘l John. He had a will of iron, and his muscles were as muscles of steel. llown he dashed, right, through the flames, and out upon the-piazza and to the street before he fell. And then fall he did, from sheer want of breath, while a cheer Went up from the crowd. ' The woman he carried fell with him, of course, and she was insensible. r A few moments of time, a few deep breaths taken, and Gentccl John was able to rise to his knees, and his first thought being for his \ bride he .lookml for her. The Woman whom he had carried out from the burning hotel lay near him, her face up- turned toward the sky, the light of the tire making her features plainly visible and ghastl in appcamucc. At. srglrt of her face Genteel John uttered a cry that was almost a scr am. .It was not the face of his wife! it “118 nm’: his bride. the had carried from the 113111053 This woman was Frances Cantril! My Godlmhc cried. “This is not. my ‘wrfc! llow carnethis mistake? I had her In my arms; I know it was she; but now~ God help me, I will save her even yet! 1 will save her or die with her!" And with his words he made another dash or the main entrance, w rich was now pour- ing forth a solid sheet of whitest flames. “ Back!" cried a fireman. “ Back! back!" cried others. death to venture there!” John heeded them not, but ly, blindly‘on,.tirmly resolvct wife or die with her. Now; he, could see through it all: now he could understand that scream he. had heard; now he realized the momentary delay when he was urging N ydla to make haste in get- ting upon his shoulders. This other woman, this daughter of -an adventuress. had pushed N ydia aside and taken her place, thus to save her own life at the cost of a hated rival. It was all too plain. , John would have rushed on to certain death had it not been for the policeman Who had made his boast that he would capture him if he came out of the house alive. The oiliCer blocked his way with club unused, commanding him to stop, and laid .lrold upon him to enforce his command. ,EVen this would have been of no avail, “It is sure plunged mad- to save his i- ibut; 'while John Was trying to shake this' man off others fell upon him, and he was overpowered in spite of his struggles. ” Heavens! are you human?” the strug- ling man fiercely demanded. in that building— Do you understand what I i i say? My wife is in there—my mfe.’ I, must save her! I must—I will save her! Let me go, or it will be the worse for you!” But at that moment the end came. With a terrible crash and roar the building collapsed, sending a myriad of sparks sky- ward, and Gentcel John sunk to the ground , utterly overcome, weeping like a chid. 1 Who can describe the scene that followed? ; Thousands of persons were upon the spot. and cries and. lamentations Were heard on every hand from those who believed they, had lost loved ones in the ruins. The shouting of the firemen, the pant ing'of the cngines‘, the roaring of the flames. the cries of the people, all together went to make up a scene. of terror and confusion. And in the midst of it all the grief of this one stricken nrarr was as merely a drop in the sea. Vtht had happened was not known saw to the few who had heard his words and who now looked upon his grief. Many had witnessed his brave act in res Citing the woman from the flames, and all 1 looked for. supposed it must be some one u itll' and dear i to, him—no doubt his wifef but few knew the terrible truth of it all, and no one could realize it.as he realized it himself. From that moment Genteel John moved like one in a dream. He. was in the apathy of utter despair. Taken to the police station, charged with the murder of Murdock Kinross, im risoned in a cell——-through it all he seemc not to realize anything. His mind was all but shattered, with the a terrible events of the hour of agony through which he had passed. He recalled Nydia.’s premonition, and her grief at the thought of ~ being taken from him. Ilow true her prophec ' had been! Ilow speedy and awful its fulfillment! Ilow dark a cloud had settled upon his life when all had seemed so very bright! ' ()n the followingr morning the newspapers came out with ful and glowing accounts of everything. ' ' The murder at the hotel; the tire imme- diately afterward; the arrest of the mur~ derer; the list of the lost; eterythingin true newspaper style, and news flew rapidly. Friends of the Lyndons saw the mention of Colonel Mark's daughter given in the list of ' the dead, and word was sent to Daisy Drift with all speed possible. Others interested themselves in John lieatlrcote, and one of the best lawyers of the day was engaged in his behalf. ,\ - There was an examination, {he result of which was to send the. jail to await trial upon the rength of the testimony given by Osmond M llfield and his tool, Joel Sparkers. The. prisoner could only tell his story. the truth; but in the face. of the strong, positive 'and .circumstantial evidence. against him there could be but the one result. ‘ CHAPTER V. A NEW noes nous. ' Tm; trial of John Ileathcote was a long and tedious one. His lawyer, believing fully in his client's innocence. had put forth every effort to establish it. Detectives had been employed, and every effort made to ferret out the mystery and bring the . guilty one to account, but all in vain. Nothing could be discovered that would throw an ' light upon the matter... On the other irand, the prosecution had a complete case. The circumstantial evidence alone was enough t9 convict, and when it was backed up with the sworn testimony of eye-witnesses, it made the chain doubly strong. The verdict was a foregone conclu- sron. » The prisoner had lost the telegram he had received on that fatal night, and his state- ment was made so much the weaker. De- te’etives had visited every telegraph office in the city, but no record of any such message was to be found. The rosecution made a point of that, thus clinching another rivet' in the terrible chain. The case against the an [ fortunate man was complete"; I innocent man to. as his breathing came hard. Genteel John could not account for a sin- gle minute of the time he had been absent from the hotel. His only witness, the only “My wife is v person who had seen that fatal telegram, was dead, and that was his wife. The only redeeming feature about the whole matter was the fact that he had returned to the hotel, but even that the prosecution dis— torted into a selfish motive. And so, when the lawyer for the prosecution had done, it was plain to be seen that he had carried c‘on. viction. The last address of the defense was strong. even stronger than might have been It shoWed the prisoner‘s past record without a blemish upon it anywhere. It. proved the shady reputation of Joe Spark- ers beyond doubt. And, too, it showed that ()sruond Millfield had been the prisoner‘s rival for the hand of Nydia Lyndon, and so. natur- ally, would have no love for the prisoner. lt showr-d how well lleathcote still retained the confidence of the sorrowing father and moth- cr upon whom their daughter's frightful fate had fallen with such terrible force. But, in spite of all, the verdict wa_s——guilty. There were stubborn facts in the case that would not be (_-ovcred——~tlrat no amount of argument could cover. The fact that. the prisoner had hated his step-father, albeit with good cause; the fact. that he had quarreled with him only a little time before the deed was done; the fact that. he had been diScov~ ered, by at least half a dozen witnesses, standing over the dying man; the fact that. two of these witnesses swore that they had seen him strike the blow. Then, too, the additional points that no blood had been found further back in the hall than the foot of the steps, although the prisoner declared the victim had come staggering from that direction as he descended the stairs. It could not be wondered at that the ver~ diet was what it was. - And, according to such a verdict, there could be but one sentence, and John Heath- cote was accordingly sentenced to be hanged. The use had been one of reatest interest, owing to the prominence o' the murdered man and the high standing of the Lyndons, with whom, being the husband of _ their daughter, the prisoner‘s name was associated. Colonel Lyndon and the lawyer fought hard own after the sentence had been pronounced, but all to no purpose. There was no suffi- cient grounds upon which to demand a new trial, and an appeal to the higher court was overruled Genteel John had passed through the try- ing time with that same dull apathy that had come upon him at the morneut when the burning hotel had fallen in, burying beneath its ruins his fair young bride. He had no hope, and seemed to care little what his fate might be. \ _ ' Even when he heard his sentence pro“ nouneed it. Seemed to make no difference? to him. He had nothing to live for, he had de~ clared, and it. mattered little how soon he died or in what manner his death came to him. , ‘ . It was not-until a week after he had re- ceived his sentence that he showed any dif~ ference in manner in these respects. The change came upon him after a visit had been made to his cell by Colonel Lyndon. “ You say you have nothing to live for]: the colonel remarked on that occasion; ” you have eve *thing to live for, John. " “ And ydia dead? You do not realize what you are saying," was the prisoner’s re- sponse.‘ , “ You mistake; I do realize what I am sayig’g.” . “ ell, what have I to live for, then?” ' hi and revenge 1’" .- g ‘or a moment a terribleflame burned in Genteel John‘s eyes,‘and his nostrils dilated “ To‘make a fight for right and revenge—n ment, with send smile, he sunk into histor- mer despair. . ‘ “Why was this not spoken of before 7” he asked “ Then I might have made a harder fight at my trial.” “Impossible. Your defense was all that; it possibly could be. Your lawyer worked harder for you than he had ever worked on ‘ A any case in his life. It was of no use, for eve thing was against you.” ” hen why mention it. at all, now that ,-. isng late?" . r I l The next mo- " ’ . will never retake me. ‘ .toned acknovacdgmcnt. » The woman Ia Ilipointe ," ‘ it i ‘L "y ’ - ‘I ~" ' - '. .L ’,'. {'Theil’S'uspeot sport of Drift. “ Is it too late?" “ Am I not awaiting the day of my execu- tion‘!" “You have not been hanged you? You are alive, are you not? Gentccl John caurht the colonel's wrist and looked steadily, in his face to read his meaning. “ What do you mean?" he pantcd. “ \Vhat hope do you hold out to me? Is there the host of chance that I may escape and live ' or the purpose you have mentioned?” ' “ If there were not I would not have spoken of it.’: That keen light flashed forth again in the prisoner’s eyes, and his face assmned such an expression as it had never worn before. “Let me only escape,” he panted. “ Let me only get free, and I swear that I will devote m life to hunting down the murderer and clearing myself of this terrible crime. And not only that, but I willhave revenge upon the human devils who placed the rope around In ' neck." .. “ You rave said enough," spoke the colo- no], then. “There are more men than one who believe you are innocent, and some step is going to be made to effect your escape. But, once you have escaped, your work will be rendered doubly difficult. Large rewards will be offered "for your re- capture, you will be hounded to the death, almost, and nowhere will you be safe." “I care nothing for that. Only give me the chance, and I will prove to you and all the world that I am innocent of that crime." “ Well, the chance will probably be yours, but 1am unable to say just how or when. Be repared to accept it at any hour, day or m ht.” ‘ “ will be ready." “ And, remember, at Daisy Drift you have an aslylum at anv- time 'ou see fit to take advantage of it, art, as it is known that I am friendly disposed toward you, I presume my house will be watched continually. " “Let them watch. Once} am free, they ()nly let me have. my liberty, and I will hard them the grandest. man hunt, they ever enjoyed. You have filled me with a hope, Colonel Lyndon; see to it that it is not dashed to the ground. I depend upon your help." And so, as said, from that time a change came over him. . Not that he was anything like his former self; the old smile, had gone, perhaps for- ever. . But there was upon his face such a look of determination, such a grim expression of fixed resolve, that it was the wonder of all who saw him. No one guessed what it .meant.' ' yet, have . l ' l 5" Some weeks passed; the hope was not . realized. He did not lose heart, however. IIe wait- . 3‘ ed on, and day by day his face became more and more set in its look. .' The lines had hardened, the keen eyes fair- burned, the jaws had become set and 1 film in the one-fixod resolve that must shape . his future-Til he escaped his fate. One day a visitor was announced, and a vailed woman entered his cell. . She sat. down, and as she’did so said, in a low, impressive tone that he never forgot: “ "John IIeatheote, I am here to serve you. Do not ask who I am, whence. I catme.or' anything whatever about me; listen well to .What I have to say. ” " f‘b‘ay on, Madam Mystery." John invited. “You have well named me," was the sad- “ I am a mystery "to you now, and so I must ever remain. I am here with a purpose, and that purpose is ,’ .to set you free." She spoke in a very low, impressive tone. “I have been expecting you," said the prisoner. ' . razed at him for a. moment in silence from be mind her Vilfl.’ ‘ “ Well, lam here, and you are not disap- ahc made return, presently. «“ Now, hear my scheme." , “ Let me hear it.” . . “ You are a strong man." “ I am no weakling, at any rate.” - an per will. be ,brou ht‘ to » is“ x g w - “The door has to be opened in order for it to be passed in." “ Yes " “Good. 1am going to free your hands, and when your supper is brought you must seize the jailer and put him in your place.” “ There is a good deal of risk about that.” “ No; scarcely any. He will be in no con- dition to resist you, for I have attended to him. You must take his hat and coat, and immediately pass out with the pitcher in your hand as if to get water.” “ lvery man about the place knows me, tlimlgh,” John objected. “ No'matter; you will find that no one will notice you, ’ (lo straight to the water fount in the yard, fill your pitcher, set. it down, and at once step into the hall on your right and go through to the street." “ And what then?" “ From that moment everything will de- pend u ion yourself. I can do no more for you. his is your only chance; see that you do not lose it. Now, not a word, for I will ansWer noeuestions, I am going." And calling to the turnkey she was let out of the cell, when she hastened away at once. Who or what she was, Gentcel John could not know. I CHAPTER VI. ESCAPE or 'run PRISONER. WHEN the woman had gone, Genteel John could hardly realize that he had had a visitor at all. . It seemed so strange, so unreal, that he was inclined to believe that he had been dreaming. That there was such a hope for escape (lid not seem possible. There Was proof, however, that he had not dreamed it—that his visitor had been no shadowy spirit born of the imagination, for his hands were free and the galling chains lay on the floor at his feet. No; it was all real enough, and he realized that his friends had not failed him. “ Colonel Lyndon did not lead me to hope in vain,” he mused. “ He has kept his word with me, and now it remains for me to keep the oath I haVe. taken." Picking up the cuffs and chains, which he had dropped to the floor after his ,visiior had ”'one out, he laid them on his wrists and lap in the manner in which he had been used to sitting, and waited. Many times his jailer came to the doorand looked in, to see that he Was all right, and no suspicion was aroused. He was found sitting in his usual position; his hcadlmwed, and he was disturbed. And so passed the. afternoon away, and evening came on. At six o'clock his supper was brought, and the door was unlocked. The prisoner being handcuffed and chain- ed, it was perfectly safe to open the door, for he could do no harm even if so inclined. John noticed that on this occasion the man hadadmggy step and a decidele sleepy appearance, as he came in, and realized that the woman had been true to her promise. “ You look sleepy, Jim,” the prisoner ob- served. “ And I am sleep , too,” was the response. “I'll bet I won’t he out o’ bed long this night." \ ' “ You ought to keep better hours.” ,“ I Was up late last night, and that’s the fact, but it never used me quite as bad as i- this More. There‘s your grub; go into it." “How about water? I guess the pitcher is about empty." ’ The warder stepped forward to the corner where the. )itcher was, and as he stooped to take it u flentcel John laid hold upon him, one ham at his throat and the other closing his mouth. . ‘ “ I don't want to hurt you, Jim,” he said, V “ but if you make a sound I will. I am go- ing, out of here. Stop your struggling, and I’ .let up: if 011 don’t I‘ll choke the wind out of you. she our choice.” The fellow was ke‘a childin the hands of so powerful it man, and he submitted imme- diately without another effort. ‘ Genteei John relaxed his grip upon his H throat, and with a quick movement snapped 'the handchfl's upon the fcllow's wrists, et .' "‘I can believe that. Very well. Your holdin'grhis mouth‘with one handlthe wh le. you at 311 E ‘Eisw “gamed, illohirlrproeeeded to gag ' ..» ' " f H', ‘one. if“, . ‘ .35: we the fellow at ’7' Ink, 3:. _ his mercy, and could proceed without fear of ‘ his calling for help. Freeing his hands, he made him remove his coat and vest, and when he had hand< cuffed him again Genteel John put on the fellow's garments and hat and was ready to go out. “ Don‘t give an alarm, Jim, if you value. your health,” he final] r warned. “I will make you repent it i you do. Iain in- nocent of the crime for which they would hang me, and I am going to prove it. You won’t have to stay here long. I'm sorry if I have hurt you." ' ’ The new prisoner looked at him wonder- ingly. Such words as these, coming, from the lips of a desperate man making a bold stroke for life and ibcrty, were strange. Gentecl John took up the pitcher and left the cell. closing and locking the door after him, and passed boldly up the corridor, whistling a popular air which the wardcr had been in the habit of whistling. No attention was paid to him, and he- gained the yard in safety. 5 There be filled the pitcher, and following the woman's direction to the letter, set it down and immediately stepped into the hall on his right and passed through to the street. lie was free— reel . Making no unusual haste, be yet got out of the neighborhood as speedily as possible, and when safe for the time being. stopped to plan his further movements deliberately, carefully. ‘ It was half an hour after his escape before his absence was discovered. . The warden of the prison, missing the- warder, set out to look for him. with a re- sult that was to be expected. Immmediately the alarm was raised, but the prisoner was by that time out of reach, and little could .be done. The police were notified, and every possible;step taken, but. all invvain. - glowing headlines. The murderer, Jolm Ileathcotc. had cs- caped! A ferocious desperndo was at large, and no life was safe! And followed a full account of the man- her of his escape; how he had almost killed one of the wardcrs, and so forth, with more regard to sensational paragraphs than for- strict facts. * The one great fact, however, was there: the man had escaped and was at large, and the law had not been satisfied. He must be rctakcn. no matter what the cost or the. hazard. The people. of the Commonwealth must see to it that justice was yet meted out to the- murderer of Murdock Kinross! And on the same page, too, was another" great sensation. I. One of the leading banks of the city had. been robbed during the night, and a for- tune in cash taken by the robber. The nightrwatchman had been overpowered in. very much the same manner as the warden at the jail, bein found in the morning bound and gagged am almost dead, while the Safes: were wide open and their contents scattered all over the floor. Nothing had been taken, so far as known, but cash, and of that only the paper money. , No gold or silver had been touched, being for easy handling. And taking this fact. into (onsideration, some logical deductions were drawn. Had the escaped murderer had a hand in the robbery? Guilty of so neat a crime, this lesser one would be as not iin - to him. Perha a he had robbed the ban alone and unai ed. Escaping from the jail as he had, he cer— tainly no money, and money was as- necessary for his life. Was he the robber? paper money, for that would be easy to. carry and would not hamper his flight. manner as the warder at the jail, and from what description he was able to give, the robber certainly corresponded in appearance with the escaped murderer. ’ hairs to make points. '1 but few could say, but. the I w w _ , . l v . hext mornin g the newspars came out With " evidently too bulky, or rather, too heavy, _ necessary to his successful flight as air wasv‘,’ " If so, he had chosen well in taking only the. , " ‘ ' The - g : watchman had been left in nearly the same . And so it went on at some length, spawn-g 1‘ ‘ Whether the papers Were fight or I. a; . ..~—.. .~. n‘mm .. , MCI—w‘ ’ a ‘ is nothing more than .a guess," was the re- '- g ad that his escape has been accomplished ' the matter ends for us. ‘ establishing his innocenCe. ’ was, what h stubborn that the police could not unearth the robber. ' There was not the slightest clue to work ' upon,‘ and the description of the robber as given by the watchman would fit any num~ ber of men, It was not, to be relied on. The watchman was positive upon one , point—that there had been but one man, a powerful fellow, who had overcome him with case. Here the newspapers laid strong I stress, too. The escaped murderer was a ’ powerful fellow, and he certainly had had no companion. - The city of Denver Was scoured that day, but John lIeathcote Was not to be found He had disappeared as utterly as though he had never been. It was on the day following that (‘oloncl Mark Lyndon entered the office of one of the noted private detectives of the city. There he met the lawyer who had defend- ed Heathcote at his trial, who was in consul- tation with the detective, and both \vcre awaiting the arrival of the colonel. 118 cu- tered in some excitement. “ What’s this I hear?" he demanded. “ I 0t your summons, and on the way here I earned that Heathcote has escaped. How did it come about?" “Had you nothing to do with it?” asked the detective. ' “ Not a thing. Wasn't it yourrdoings? Yours or the lawyer‘s, here ?” “ Neither of us had an 'thing to do with it,” was the assurance; an the ’trio !ookcd at‘ one another in something of surprise. “Then it isplain that he had no help,” declared the colonel. “ He has seen his op- portunity and has taken advantage of it. All the better; we escape the dangerous I risks we were about to run. ” . , “ Yes. it is better so," agreed the lawyer; “but our friend here says it was out of the I question, his escaping without help.” “ Then who in the nameof wonders helped . him?" “ I am not prepared to say,” answered the detective, “ but I do know he had help, and f undoubtedly it was the woman who visited ‘ him in the afternoon. In fact, I am sure it was she; but who she was I do not know.” “ But how could an unknown woman help him?" - .4 “ Perhaps she was not unknown to him. " “ Even so, what could she do?" “ What she did do was evidently a rent deal. In the first place, she certainly reed his hands so that he could» grapple with the‘ jailer, and she may also have supplied him with the means of disguise and escape. . She was bold, and at the jail she passed herself oifasthe prisoner’s aunt. " “He has no aunt, as I know very well," declared the colonel. “And who this wo- man can be, Icannot imagine. Whatis your opinion?" This to the detective. ' “ An opinion without proof to back it, sir, i l l spouse. - “ Well, then, let's hear what your guess is. You are accustomed to dealing with mys- teries; your guess ought to be a good one." “ I have an idea that this mysterious wo- man may be one who had somethingto do With the murder, assuming the )risoner to have been innocent. as you both 0." “Ha! you may be right. Knowing his danger, and not wanting that‘he.‘ should suf- fer for a crime of which he was guiltless, she took upon herself the risk of aiding him to escape.” , ‘ . “ hat is the way it looks to me, gentle- men." ' “And you may have hit the truth of it," a reed the lawyer. “Anyhow, let us be without our help. We are clear of it. and so I hope he will not be retaken, but: that he may be successful in CHAPTER VII. run nunsrmo can mixnsnnn. m "Suspect-Sport Those who held that he was the bank- ;Frances began to lay siege to hisheart im- Tnn escaped murderer was not retaken; . the bank-robber had not been arrested, the‘ m stcry was still unsolved. A *ks had asscd, and no one. had heard » from Gentcel ohn, not even his most inti- l i" ‘, mate and most trusted friends. Where he ‘ Iredell fixed her eyes upon the, Englishman “lawnmower: he . and e was doing, no one could say. ' ski? ‘ I 3 i, . 'v:"iiv‘:’,~i, ':‘!.',.*..~: a Barely single note had become exceedingly rasping upon the cars of those who believed him in- nocent of either crime. ' And those who believed this Were these who knew him best. ltcwards had been posted, both for the capture of the escaped prisoner and for the arrest of the robber. These rewards were everywhere. Five thousand dollars was offered for the arrest of the murderer, as he was termed, and a full description of llcathcote was given. Drift. ' robber, still harped upon that string, and its I F E i 2 fair to rival even Manitou at no far distant This was signed by an official in higer standing, and could any upon Genteel John, ant have been successful in turning him ox/er to the authorities, the reward would have been paid. man have laid hand ‘ Then, too, the same amount was offered 1 by the officials of the bank for the arrest of the robber who had spoiled them to the ex- tent of five times that sum. 80, if it were true that Gentch John and this bank-robber were one and the same, the successful man had asnug sum awaiting him. In the mean time mattch at Daisy Drift had settled down to an even pace, and while . no means forgotten, Gentcel John was br lac less f l‘L‘( lucntl y men- his name had come to tioncd. The death of their daughter in the hotel fire at Denver had been a terrible blow to the Lyndons, and they had by no mcaus rc- eovered from it. Added to that had been the disgrace the trial and conviction of Heath— cotc brought upon them. The hotel at the pretty camp village was unusuallyvfull of guests, but the Lyndons were entirely out of society, of course, and they were missed greatly at all local events of a social nature. At the hotel Were Madam Iredcll and her daughter, Frances Cantril, the girl whom (it"nt‘ccl John had saved from the burning hotel. llcuthcote had told few the true inward- ncss of that episode, and only the girl's own version of it had become current. ' She was in thqhall, as she explainul, try~ ing to grope her way out, and was probably near the room occupied by Ileathcotc and his bride, when a man, whom she took to be a fireman, seized her and. flung her upon his shoulders and bore her out. She did not know who 11'. was till,she was told later. Such had been her explanation, and now that it had become old it was seldom referred to. . With Genteel John branded a murderer and sentenced to be han red, her love for him seemed suddenly to rave cooled. and she could speak of him without any show of feeling. , It can be questioned whether she had any feclin of'the womanly sort. " An . no sooner oil with-the old love than on with the new: The escaped gar-isomer being forever beyond her reach, an now wholly undesirable, she had set her snares in another direction. Geuteel John had made no mistake in es- timating her character. Her mother was an adventurcss, and she was no better. If she had honestly loved Heathcote, as perhaps she had so far- as her nature was capable; that was a thing of the past. Now she was playing for money and position. - At the hotel, about this time, was a man who gave his name as Robert Woonstead. He was a man of thirty-five or so, of g address, passany good-looking and rich bc~ yond question. He claimcdtobe an English. man, and said he had cometo the Lnited States with the object in view of investing in mining interests. , ' ,, At the Daisy Drift Hotel he had made the acquai ance of Osmond Millfield, a stock? holder i the Jobs Find, and when his object was known the Job’s Find wash-ought to his netice‘ as bei about as cod an invest- ment ~ as he ceul make. so it came about that he invested five thousand dollars in the stock of that concern. This was/as he said, merely as a starter. He did not want to go in too deeply till he understood more about American mines and American ways. - - 7 When this deal became.known, Madam l ,: ‘2 Fm; k”; .~ r. “2,1,. :‘ mcdiately. And their success in that direction was even better than they had hoped could be possible. The wealthy Englishman made no defense whatever, but quickly capitulatcd, and erc he had been six weeks at the camp village the engagement was announced. It is not (if a new and rough mining-camp we write, it must be borne in mind, hence the term “camp village." It had been a camp—was a camp still in some sense of the term; but it had grown into a pretty and popular summer resort. and was bidding dav. When the engagement was announced local society was all agog. Frances t‘aittril lad not been the only one who had lzccn angling in that direction, and she was l1)ol£t'(i upon with envy. ('ongratulations, however, were not by any nit-ans l.:u-k\vard. In fact, the disap- poirti-d ones, in order to hide their chagrin, were the foremost and most effusive in ex— tending them. . ()sinond .llillfield complimented “'oonstead highly upon his choice, and declared that American women Were scmnd only to Amcr- ' icau mines. As he had never married, he was free to .put it that way if he saw fit, and so he put it. Itneed not be said that Millficld and Col- oncl Lyndon did not speak. . * Believing thoroughly in the innocence of John IIcathcote, the colonel knew that he, Ililllicld, had given false testimony out of - pure revenge. ’ IIc mignt have been satisfied with statin the facts as they were, for the circumstantia evidence had been black enough, but he had ' gone further and sealed the. innocent young ‘ man's fate. v Provided always that Ileathcote was inno- . cent, and those who believed thoroughly that he waswerc few in number. And so believ- ing, they believed Illillfield to be the liar and worse that we know him to have been. Still, they were helpless without proof. The two, Millticld and Lyndon, had had one fierce war-of words over the matter, since that terrible night, and from that moment had not. spoken. , . l )lillficld was carrying himself as an up- right man would, a man who had done his duty in at trying time without fear or favor, and he had the support and sympathy of the mtgority. , ' at. to return: . Shortly following the announcement of the engagement between Robert Wmnstcad and Frances (,‘nntril, had Come the further an-" nounccmcnt of their wedding, soon to take ’ place there at the hotel in the village. , . The Englishman had pressed his suit, and therobeing no good reason for delay, much less any desire on the part of either the father or daughter, on the principle of , I “ many a slip," etc, they had given way to," him and preparations were begun at once for as grand an affair of the kind as could .be ‘ gotten up. ’ .3 , “ And so, in society there, and even to acers .' tain extent at DenVcr also, there was an unpf'.v.',. ,usual stir over the forthcoming event. . , _ The Englishman was lavish with his mane . :x and no expenscwas spared to make _it ,' . rcatest event of that or any other kindth'nt . isy Drift had eVer witnessed. And he: -' succeeded. . , ; The day of the wedding came, and Data ‘Drift was filled to overflowing with pe e from Denver and other“ laces nearer by. The, abilities of the umble. village ho, being inadequate to the- occasion, es _ " ‘talent had been brought from the city tapré pare the grand supper that was to follow the; 3' ceremony. . , I 1 ‘ The wedding Was to‘ take p ' in theeven ing at nine, and the supper. sto follow at . midni ht after the intervenin . timehsd been spent n dancing. ,It was, er, likely . . to eclipse anything thathad taken lace that 4 season, even at Denver ‘or famed L anitou. Evening came, and finally the looked-fer hour. ' . . hand totie we retina wo ministers were on as elaborate] as possible, and the" were filled With guests. ‘ ' Nearly all the cottages in the camp were ablaze with light, forit being a secrety evens; cl.- *. ‘5. suspect 815311 or Daisy t, ,J all society was taking part; but the Lyndon cottage was as dark as a tomb. Finally, in the main parlor of the hotel, the ‘ two ministers took their stand under a huge floral arch that had been erected, and the happy couple, with their attendants, en- tered and drew up before them, and the cere- mony began. . i It not only began, but ended, and Robert VVoonstead and Frances Unntril were pro- nounced man and wife. v When the final words had been pro- nounced, and before the crowd could press forward to congratulate the couple, there (nunc an unusual noise upon the hotel piazza. It had the sound of heavy steps, but they Were certainly heavier than any human could make. It was more like the tread ot' a horse. And at the same time loud exclama- tions were heard. 1 These were followed by screams from the women who were in the hall and the front part of the room, and while the crowd re- mained spellbound, wondering what could be the cause of it all, into the parlor came ‘ a. horse and. rider, to the terror and amaze- ment of all. ' The rider was clad in black from crown to toe, and over his face was a black mask. A cloak of sable hue hung from his shoulders. The horse, as black as ink, had over it a heavy black cloth which hung like a pull all around, secured front and rear, havingthc appearance, except in color, of the caparison of medieval times. Slowly to the front this mysterious rider rode, thrmlgh the aisle that had been left open for the bride and groom and their at- tendants, and scarcely any one moved or spoke, all being filled with awe at so strange an apparition at such a time and upon such an ocmsion. i Thyme and groom had turned to receive the co gratulations of their friends and the assc bled guests, and now, with faces of _ ashcn hue they stood spellbound before this x mysterious being. i The attendants had fallen back, and the V , ' horseman stopped within a few feet of the ‘ néwl married couple. . ~ “ l obert Woonstead and Frances," the rider spoke, then, in full, distinct tone, “ let me be the first to congratulate you upon this happy (x-casion. Frances, you are to be envied; while I you, sir, deserve nothing worse than to be mentencml to spend the re mainder of your days in the society of this charming woman.” Then it was that the liride, the groom, guests—all took the matter in the light. of a . joke some friend had taken the Ilberty to ' play upon them. “ But who hre you ‘2” asked the groom with a smile of expectancy. The answer was like a thunderbolt from a eloudless sky: ‘ “ I am John Ileathcote, better known as Genteel John, or, as I have chosen to style ~ myself, the Detdctive Outlaw!” - ()llAl’Tlflli VIII. ONE MYSTERY (TLEARED AWAY. Wm) can describe such a scene as then on- sued? I ‘ '. Women screamed, men exclaimed, and many sought safety in immediate flight from the room. ‘ ‘ . The faces of bride and groom took on the “ hue of death, and the two reverend gentle- , fimen tried to excel each other in the,eelerity .1 ‘of their retreat. .. Now, to both Woonstead and Frances Can- 'tril, came the true significance of the con. ratulations- this daring man had spoken. '1ch could understand the hidden meaning of his words. W " Not: that they understood it,. each the ’ meaning as it applied tofthe other, but each ' as it applied to seéf. They were soon to see it in its fuller light, ‘however. ' ,As he spoke the thrilling words the black rider’s horse a peared to grow restless, and wheeling rt y around it hacked to a corner near which)“ the bridal party had stood, and there, as he faced the crowd, the rider ap- peared with a glittering revolver in his . gram. .‘ ‘ i Excitement Were a tame word to express -' ._ furor. - '~ ' f There were reporters present, men who ,, had been sent on purpose,to wrlte 1) this event, and they oil to paper. There were detectives in the room, men who had been waiting at Daisy Drift for weeks in the hope of catching Gentcel John, and they were powerless to make a move to arrest him. In less time than it has taken to read these lines the room was half emptied; but there was 'still a goml crowd present, those who Were either poWerlcss to move or had the grit to stand their ground to see the matter through. There were both classes. “ Citizens of Daisy Drift," spoke Genteel John, before the spell was broken, “and you, reporters, detectives, all; hear what I have to say: Since. my escape from prison at Denver I have been upon the trail of the robberof the liank. I found him weeks ago, but the desire for personal revenge had led me to postpone his arrest, or exposure, till now.” Robert ‘Woonstcad was still white to the lips, and his face was bathed in a damp of perspiration. He could hardly stand, and had taken hold of the back of a chair for. support to steady himself. llis bride had (hfawn apart from him, her eyes wild with an expectancy of horror. “I will now point him out to you, detec- tives who are eager to achieve fame and fortune in his capture and my own, and you can make the arrest. There he stands: the trembling, cowardly wretch; Radcliffe Royce, alias Robert Woonstcad, alias a dozen other names; the husband of at least seVen deserted wives; a man who has served one term in State’s Prison; thief, forgcr, and what not. There he is, and here are all the proofs. needed to convict him of this crime.” - As he spoke, Gentccl John took a packet from under his cloak and displayed it. “ It is a lie!" the accused man cried. “ It is a lie, and 1—” . “ It is the truth,” the accuser interrupted. “You will have all the chance needed to disprove it when you are brought to trial. Detective Pcarsman.” speaking to one of the detectives whom he recognized, “ I. will de- liver this packet to you, and you will find that it is all I claim for it. I have done my work well, and there is your man. Do not allow him to escape you. But, then, no need for me to say this to you.” ‘ The bride, Frances (lantril, had dropped upon a chair, where she assumed a pretend- ed faint. ' Some of the women present advanced to- ward her, but (ieuteel John waved them back. He had more to say to them all. llc had tossed the packet. to the detective, who had caught it, and who had advanced close enough to the accused man to pre- vent his csc: pe should he make such an at‘ tempt. ' “ 1 spoke of a personal vengeance that led me to postpone this exposure till now,” the black rider went on. , “ I will now make plain what that was, and the ,objeet of it. You all remember the burning of the hotel at l)c.nVcr. in which my bride lost her life. Ientered the. burning building to find her; I did find her, in the midst of the heat, smoke and flames; [bade her get upon my shoulders so that I could have free use of hands and arms as learricd her out; l stoop- ed to receive her; at that moment this wo- man—~—this monster, unknown to me, pushed her back and took her place. and so it came that I carried her out: instead. of my poor wife.” A sob choked him for an instant, but he quickly resumed: “I sup )0le it was in were too excited to put pen- wife .till I saw her face a ter I had escapct with her, when, ' finding it Was hot, Iwould have rushed back to certain death for her sake had 1 been allowed to‘d so. But, [was held, and the building fcl and my bride was buried be neath the ruins, And this woman is, in the sight of Heaven, her murder-em! Can you wonder that I have taken this chance for a tithe of revenge, slight and inadequate though it is? I thought I would allow her to Wed this than upon whom she was ex- pending all her aits. You have gained y0ur ambitiOn, Frances Cantrilw—I know you can hear me, r-your faint is only asham; and I~Wi¢h 0t joy. This in some measure reps syoti r what you have done; in some measure satisfies the revenge I made oathto take.” The masked man looked around the room, as if new debating his manner of escape. “One word more, to you, detectives and reporters,” he said. “ I have no desire to do any of you harm, and so I warn you not to attempt to detain me when I am ready to depart. I am innocent of the crime for which the law seeks my life, for which it Would ere this’have hanged me but for my escape, and I am going to fight for life and freedom .until I am able to prove to the world that I did not kill Murdock Kinross.~ And another word to my fees, to those whose false testimony at my triai would have sent me to the gallows: I have marked you, and my vengeance shall yet fall upon you. There is no escape; nothing but death can place you beyond my reach. For five pur- poses only do I live; to prove my innocence and to wreak vengeance upon those who dragged me down.” v - Millfield ' had been in the room, but no. sooncrhad the. black riderannounecd who he was than that gentleman beat a hasty retreat through the nearest window. ' No desire had he to face this man whom he had so i rrcparably wronged. But it was not for personal safety alone that he had hastened out. He meant to cap ture the . :caped convict if possible. No sooner out than he gathered men around him, to whom he made known his plan, and speedily every door and window of the room was guarded, the men having orders to capture the outlaw “dead or alive. This was no more than might have been expected, however, and it would have shown shortsightedness on the part of Gen- tecl John had he not come prepared for just that emergency. So he had come, one rea- son for his riding his horse into the room in the manner described. Mounted, he had every advantagemnd his. horse was one to be trusted in'any emer- gene . “ I Having ended what he had to say, the masked rider took up the rein in his left. hand, while with his right he presented his revolver in a threatening manner at the crowd. _ “ Let no man try to stop me," he warned. “Let me depart in peace, and all will be Well. Try to detain me, and there may be trouble. I know the reward that. is upon my head is a temptation to you, but the reward is not worth the risk. 'ow I am going." He started forward as leisurely as he had come into the room. For a moment no one attempted to hinder him, but when he reached the doorway four men suddenly blocked his path, each vith a revolver presented. .“ Stopl” was the command. “ Another step, John Heathcote, and you are a dcad' man!” . , “Out. of my way,” was the stern order, “or there may be more (1 ad men than cue. I am a desperate man, one not to be trillcd with.” . He had not paused, and now his horse was upon the four. The women who had remained in the room were screaming, and' the excitement was great. “ Take him!" commanded a voice without. “Take him! Do not let him escape! Kill him. or you will lose him!" The four had stepped back, their revolvers presented straight at the black rider’s breast, and once more they commanded him to halt and surrender; ' As well might the ' have spoken com~ mands to the free wins of Heaven. “ Fire!" ordered the man in the back- round, and it was the voice of Osmond Iillficld. “ Fm!" ‘ The four revolvers spoke at once, the‘ bullets undoubtedly went true to the mark, but their effect was naught. With an imprecation of an "or, the detec- tive outlaw‘urged forward iis horse ata bound, and with clubbed weapon he knock- ed the amazed men right and left out of his wa . The heavy hoofs thundered once or twin: in the hall. once only on the piazza as the noble steed made a leap to the street, and j with a Laugh of defiance the proscribed m’un dashed away 11 ‘ _‘.,.; .v ,. sewn!” .i‘:' barked spitefu ly behind him. , the vallev, while revolvers. ’~ Genteel John was gone. \Vhat can be said of the scene that follow-' ed? To describe it in detail were utterly im- poSsilde, nor is it necessary. About the, time when ‘dl attention was being drawn to (lentuel .5 . ,1 .::1l the men xvi-o lricl: eui'l'cst ilil'l, ill.‘ accused liolicrt \‘zoonstead tried to make, his escape by a rear door. . llctective l’earsman had an eye upon him, however, and he, had 'not taken tln‘ce steps before :1 heavy hand. fell upon his shoulder and he was brought, to a hall. with the cold tube of a revolver pressed underhiscar. lie was willingr to stop, under the pressing cirt'umstam-es. ‘ l’earsman called to an assistant, who put handcuth upon the fellow, and he was rendered helpless. When the, four in the hall who had been knocked over so ingloriously had regained their feet. and ()smond )lilllield 'had some- what quit-led down, for he had made a great ado over the ’escape, then the proofs (lenteel ; Jolm had given Detective l’cnrsman were looked into. 'l‘hey -\vcrc proofs positive, and the pris- oner had no loophole for escape. He. could not deny his identity, and the proof that he was the man who had robbed the bank could 5 not be gainsayed. The detective outlaw had done his work exceedingly well, and one mystery had now been cleared up. Genteel Jolm was innocent of that one crime, at any rate. But. the other-— condemned to die! ' CHAPTER IX. A NEW muss on THE MATTER. THE events of that night were not soon to be forgotten. . I Never to be forgotten, perhaps, at Daisy Drift, and certainly never by the persons who had been most conspicuous. The reporters spent the rest of the night in writng descriptive articles of the sensa- tional order for their papers, while the detec- tives talked the situation over among them- selves, explaining to one another why they had made no effort to arrest Genteel' John. In some of them it was particularly gall- int,r that he had escaped, after they had spent so long .a time waitin at Daisy Drift, w here they believed he whu (1 come sooner of later for the purpose of seein r Colonel Lyn- don. And now that he ha come and was gone, again; they were accordingly sad. Somehow some of them felt that they were out of pocket just five, thousand dollars, ting amount of the reward that was upon th outlaw's head. The “ outlaw " he may be called, since he was under ban, a price upon his head and a noose awaiting him in case he should be caught; outlaw, though innocent of any crime save that of fighting," for his life. There was one among the detectives, how- ever, who had been converted by the events of that night, and that one was Detective Pcarsman. lie declared openly his belief that Gentccl John was inmcent of the mur- der, and pledged himself to do all in his power to help him to establish his inno- cence. , The prisoner—the bank-r0bber-—-was taken to Denver; where the proofs in thehands of I’earsman convicted him. There was’no escape, and evorybody had t acknowledve the superior detective skill w iieh Genteef John had shown in weavin ' the chain around him, hampered as he had ecn. , [The rascal w s sent to prison foralong’ term of years, Rind about two-thirds of his stolen riches was restored to the bank. While as for Frances Cantril, she disappcah 0d fmm sight. together with her mother, both evidently anxrous to hide their heads after the disgrace they had met, Some time went by. i The next sensation was something entirely unlookedfor. ' The daily stage between the nearest rail- road point and Daisy-Drift was held up one , afternoon and robbe , Ithad a large amount of’money aboard at the time, money sent to pay off the mine em- géoyces, and that was the object of the rob- r . .thhmg e‘lse'was taken or asked for. at, What. made the .aensation all the I For that he was ‘ l rreatcr, the robber was declared to have been I ‘enteel John. I Melt were aboard ’who had seen him _on I the occasion of his visit to the camp on , that memomble night, and they declared it. _ was the. same horse and rider again. ' More than that. the robber hail revealed ' his identity, declaringr himself to be the dc» lective outlaw. (lentecl John. And this , was the report given by all who Were I aboard the stage at the time. , “ Being proscribed and bounded," they ,quoted the robber as having.r said, “lam ' bound to have the name as well as the game. .'l'he law has made me an outhw, and aft outlaw I will be in fact. Let them take me jif they can. it is my hand against every ‘ man’s band now. ” And so the news was Spread. . _ Colonel Mark Lyndon and his wife were seated togctln-r in their comfortable cottage - parlor one evening, where they were usually to be found at’that hour. Both were sad and downcast, as they had j been M'cr since cruel Fate had’ robbed them 1 of their favorite child in so horrible a man— i ner, and their conversation was concernng i that. trying time and the events which had : followed. ' “I am glad you do not believe it," Mrs. Lyndon remarked. “ Believe it!" cried the colonel. “ I would . not believe it if John were to tell me so him— } self." \ i “But, how is it to be accounted for? There is no doubting the fact that the stage .was stopped and the money taken, and we Icannot doubt the testimony of those who were aboard respecting the rest.” ’ “ That is all right; but it was not John Iieatheote. As to accounting for it, I don‘t. I sim ly say I do not understand it.” “NIiir do I; though, like you, Iam sure it was not John.” - ' ‘ “ He has enemies, men who have good ‘ reason to fear him, now, and who Would do y'anything to remove him from their path." “ You mean Millfleld, for one." I “ Yes. ” _ “ How I detest the wretoh!” . : “And well you may, too. This may be. i his doings.” “ In what way do you mean ?" “ In this way! The robber was certainly i not Genteel John, so of course it was some one playing the role for a purpose. And that purpose, to cast more odium upon John’s name." I - “I see it, I see it! They would trample him "in the mire, now that they have got him down. "They will suffer yet, I feel it—I know it! But,‘how strange that John has never been near us since he escaped from the custody of the oflicérs! Seems to me he might ventui'e.” , . “I have given you my views regarding that. He knows that our house must be un- der watch of the detectives, who believe that wooner or later he will Come here, and who i are ready to take him at a moment's notice. I The wait is trying their patience severely, bpt there age at least two here that I know . o ." ’ _ "And of course John must be aware of their movements. ” “‘Iie undoubtedly is. See the manner in " which he worked up that robbery case and lcleared his name of that charge. He was - rubbing elbows all the time with the very ’ men who were looking for him most eager n “ But how will he ever clear himself of the other crime? Of the terrible charge of mur- l der that ban 9 over his head?” , “ He will ( o it, if no harm comes to him. I am sure he will do it; he is just that sort of man. But how—you ask 'rne too.mueh. We must wait and see how." ' , I - , There came-a ring at the hell, or gong, at the cottage front door. r to announce a'strangcr. d “Show him in," directed Colonel Lyn- on. ' An aged man entered the room. He had ; white hair and heard, was bent with years, - and sup orted himself with a stout cane. “ Do address Colonel Mark Lyndon?” he inquired, on entering. , “ You do, sir,” wasthe response. “Whom haw: I theyhonor of receiving?” - ‘ v 'your question. A Servant responded, and soon appeared ' “I am 'I-ienry Yardley, sir, from Denver. I am here regarding that matter of insurance you are waitiner to hear about." While he spoke. the old man had taken the chair that had been proffered, and laid his hat beside him on the floor. » “ \Vhy, sir, I know nothingr about : ny matter of insurance," said the colonel, in a' tone of much surprise. The servant had withdrawn. now, and 3 er steps had ceased to be heard in the hall. “ I’crhaps you do not," the‘ old man ob- served, in a lower tone. “That remark was intended for ether cars.” The Voice was changed. nbw. :uzd l~<~t:h the colonel and Mrs. Lyndon looked at thestfan- aft-r (rtgcrly. ‘ “ .\re \( u .h 1:111" v ‘ tl.e the other occasion, but, then, it was not necessary. . The very fact that Genteel John had been a there, as the other work at the hotel ,provcd, was «tough. llere~ was another crime Chartreil to him. Never in the history of that t sectihn, had there been such a bloodthirsty ‘ demon at large. ' Osmond Millticld called a meeting to ex- press thc public indignation,‘ andd'or. the pur- pose, if possible. of finding some means to unearth the outlaw. - - 'A recent election. by the way, hiid made Millticld mayor of the town, and he was making a stir in every direction possible. o’l‘he meeting was held, and the mayor made a stirring speech, urging the people to action. They must arm. he. declared, and form themselvesfnto a regular committee of Vigil- antes and s and ready to cope with the out- laws at a moment's notice. ' There was harle anything in this, since there had already been formed such a com- mittee.under the direction of Colonel Lyndon," for the purpose of hunting down the frond- agent and his dcspemdtws. And. as these had done all they could it did not seem likely that a larger force could do more. Another thing proposed was to have ii. po- lice force. organized at once to protect the 3mg) against further depredations' of the m . ~ . This found favor, and Was acted upon, twenty men being selected for night duty, their service to begin that 'Vcry night. it would dare to come again. The villi'ige was” practically, under a reign 'of terror. Many of the summer boarders declared their intention of getting away with all haste, but the (hingcr of meet- ing the robbers on the road deterred them. - and the \‘igilanles promised full and ample. ‘law band would again interfere with the l l l tectives stopping there. i l l l the camp could Show. 7 home in the fall in perfect health. Aftern few days,‘however,*the excitement a". l had set out. C CHAPTER .\'lll. ’ sour: NEW Alnuy'.\i.s. No'r‘mxo more had been seen or heard oi the outlaw. and public confidence was in a measure restored. ()nly'a few had kept their word and gone away. and for those who remained the police pl‘oleclion. The regular stages now carricd two armc-i guards, one riding on each side of tin driver. and it has not thought that the out .lchu and his “ hearse. ‘ Mrs. iainhard. the old lady from (‘hica’go was showing considerable of interest in the She was expecting her son, who was not in the best of health, and the excitement of a meeting with the desperate men might prove too much for him. On hand regularly to meet every stage, silt' finally the expected one at last arrived, and son and mcther fell upon each other and embraced. 'l‘hosc who had heard Mrs. liainhard‘.:. talk about her Son, were somewhat dis appointed in him. She had led them to expect to see a Sipkly. looking man. instead, Johnston liainhard was quitc- hcarty, and but for his palcncss, would have been pronounced as llcalthy a man as But, this was nothing mysterious. He had been tra\'cling,.and his health had improved wonderfully. ' In fact, at sight of him Mrs. Rainhard ut- tered some joyous remarks concerning his. improved appearance. “ And she hoped, by finishing the summer there there in “(‘olorady," to take her son- EVcrv- thing indicated that her hope would be real- ized. . ». ' Johnston Reinhard was a man of thirty or SO He was of medium height and good prd- portions, and his! hands, soft and white like awoman's, showed that he was unuscd to hard ‘work. He was well but, plainly dressed. carriul a cane all the time, and usually had his broad but pulled low over his brow. He had a short, full beard trimmed close, and a long mustache. \ The same stage brought a visitor to Colo— nel Lyndon. . It was a man of middle age, a portly gem ‘. tlcman with a fair and ruddy face, the ideal of a hearty and prosperous banker or mer- chant. ‘ As soon as he alighted from the stage he inquired for the coloncl‘s residence, and it being pointed out. to him, made his way in that direction without any further delay. lie was a stnmgcr at Daisv Drift. And being a stranger, he immediately fell under suspicion; as, in fact, did Rainhard, too. Since Mrs. Reinhard was known, ll()W(‘V(’T, having been the're some time. and as she had been openly looking for her son. the suspi- cion in his direction was less. The other party had come unexpected and’ unannounced, and his inquiring l'or (‘olonel Lyndon led the detectives to think it might be (lcnteel John in disguise, though-it re- q'uired a long stretch of imagination. . Colonel Lyndon’s house had been closely ., watched, and every comer and goer had to z 3-7 pass, whether he knew it or not. a critical examination. ‘ . v» And these detectives were numerous, as has “5' been said. ~. They were of every kind, and from great ' to small in points of ability and experience. ' \ I. The leaders among them, however, could. be named upon the fingers of one hand, and that without including the thumb. ' First, perhaps, stood Detective Pcarsman, i)! whom mention has been made. After him may‘liemcntioncd in order Detective Joyce, of the Express company; Detective Reynold, private; and Detective Playfair, the same. . Pt rsman was a Gow-rnnu-nt'nmn. . “ hat do you think .of him?“asked Joyce of Pearsman, when the portly gentleman; ‘ had obtained the information he desired and. .n Wm; "pat-,3” ‘ . r “‘2; r an it“ tier-=4“? arr. my 3.“. a “ ~ K‘ n =:~“: fiéikrm’ “ You don’t suspect him, do you?" Pears— man counter-questimted. “ Do you?" “ No. " “ lint, he's a stranger, and he‘s gone to Lyndon's." “That is all right. If you have ever seen John Ileathcote you must know this man is not he.” " But, guising." “ Ile couldn't take on from fortyio sixty pounds of flesh at will5do you suppose he could?" ' “ Ila! that would be rather difficult, wouldn‘t it. Iguess you are right. l’cars‘ man. Still he may lie a friend of the out- Iaw‘s, and by following him we could get at the other." “ Possibly; but I hardly think so.” '“ And why?” . “ Because. from what we have seen of- John Ileatheote I take, liim to be a man who , would prefer to go it alone'in any and every l case." “I See Raynold and l’layfair are lookingg after him pretty sharp.” . “Reason enough for us to remain out of Sight, then." ' “ And let them do the work?" “Yes; Certainly. If they scare up any game, then it will he time enough for us to join in the chase." . “ Your head is old and hard. l’carsman.” “ You don‘t give, me crediton that account respecting my opinion of Genteel John, all the same.” “ Your belief that he is innocent?” “Exactly.” . ‘.‘ How can I? Everything points to his guilt. And now he, is not only guilty of one murder, but scveral.’,’ ‘ ' . “ And you ignore my idea that he is not the fellow who has been playing the road- .21'.I'('!1t and robber here? “'cll. nothing but time will convince you. I suppose.” _ “ I must have. proof before I can believe.” “ And I hope we‘ll soon have it.” “What have you iiimle up your mind to {lo regarding my proposition that We work together on the case?" \ “I have come to the conclusion that it would be folly for us to do that. We (nin- not agree on the leading points, and we. should certainly differ on the smaller. ” “ Perhaps you would not want toshare the tifteen thousand.” “ There is not that much in it.” “Not that, much! What do You mean? That is what the different rewar s foot up, isn't it?" 0 “True; but here again we differ. Part of that is for Joint Ileathcote, and the remain- der of it for the rascal who has been doing these later crimes." I Detective. Joyce shook his head. “Isee it's of no use," he said. "\Ve’ll have to go it alone. " , ' “You might leagin with Ravnold and I’Iavfair, however," Pearsman suggested. “ 'I‘ my are of your mind. I see." “ The trouble is I don‘t want to work With them. They are irivate men, you know; and are too al|~tiret big for me. They think they know it all.” ’ “My advice would be, to go it alone,” “ I'll haVe to. " ' "l‘hey were about to part when J we turn- ed'back to ask. “ What about the other man, however?" “Mrs. lhtiiihard'sson?” ' “ Yes." " What do you think about him'?” ‘5 You can’t argue sixty pounds of extra ’flesli there. ” - , ' “ Can a man, by thought, add one enhit, to his stature?" l’earsman inquired, in mg“- merit. ' ' “ Then you think this one is too tall? He certainly is no ’shorter than John Heath- cote." l , “ He is about an inch and a half taller. ” “ Then your opinion is plain enough. You don‘t suspect either one of these men.” ‘EIdon‘t suspect either of them of being John lleatheote." ~ “Ila! Do you mpan by that to have me understand that, you do 'suspeet them in‘ some other way ‘2”. “I don’t mean to have you understand anvtliin r about it,” was the rejoinder. the fellow is the deuce at dis- I ~“ That is all I care to say; that I do not so; pect either of them of being the true Genteel ; 3 self." John.” “ Yet, one of them may be the false.' “I am not ii'epared to say that. of it all.” At that they parted. ' “ No," mused I’earsiuan. “I do not be- lieve either of these is Gentccl John. I am sure on that point. my services to him." Illeaiiwhile the stranger had gone on to the Lyndon cottage. The colonel, Mrs. Lyndon, and their son , Jackson were seated on the )iazza at the . y I ‘ Jack; and besides us I can only mention one, time. As the stranger came near. (‘olonel Lyndon : rose from his chair and Went down to the gate, to greet him. “ Why, Judson," he cried, you?" ~ ‘.‘ Alive, colonel, alive,’l was the very lively resprmse. They shook hands heartily, and the col- onel led him to the piazza and introduced him to his wife and son. “My old friend, Judson Pathfinder," he presented him. The man was made at home, and after some usual first talk, he said to the‘eolonel: " \Vell, Mark, I have traveled all the way from Chicago to learn about this mine you have been cracking up to me.” _ “ You will find it all' that I have told you, but whether you will care to invest in it now or not, is a question.” “ Why ‘2” “We are being robbed about as fast as we can get the precious stufl’ ready for th market. ’,' , ., “Robbed? And can’t you puts stop to that sort of thing? I’ll bet if I had money invested here I would make short work of robbers. Wh ' don’t you hire some ood detective ant hunt them down? Sen for the Pinkertons.” - ~“T CHAPTER XIV. WARNING souxnnn. “ how are COLONEL LYNDON smiled in his now sad wa '. “I do not think a great deal of your Pink- ertons," he made response. “They are fellows trying to live upon the reputation gained by the original of, that name.” I“ All the same, you can‘t dqu but they have done some good work in a good many cases. At all events, I'd, try 1 em if I had to deal with robbers who deprived me of my gold." ' , . “Judson,” spokethe colonel, “this place is full of detectives, some of them men of no ineatvieputations. ” v ' “Then why don’t they make short work of your robber?" ’ “Because they can’t do it.” “ Rather because they are not Pi kertons. I should say. I tell you, Mark, ’hen you want the best of anything, send to Chicago for it." o ' They had already” talked about the sad death of the, coloiiel’s daughte'r, and Path- finder had expressed his sympathy. Colonel Lyndon now reverted to that terrible attair, saying: ‘- . “ You have read about the trouble of my son-in-law? It has been in the papers.” “ Yes. I saw it all." “ lle. escaped, you know.” H \‘vs- I; “ Well. there. is'now a price upon his head, and these detectiVes here are after him.” “ You tell me. you believe invhis in- nocence." , ' ~“ lle is asinnocent of that murder, Judson, as you are. John lleatlieote is the soul of truth and honor," \ “Well, I’m glad’ he escaped, then, if that is the ease. Perhaps we had better not call in the Pinkertons, since they would be pretty likely to hunt him out, and it. might fare ill withJiim.” , , ' . “ Do you think him guilty of—” ” Lord bless you, no! But, without the proof of his innocence, he is better out of the hands of the law." “ hiaetly; and it is to prove his innocence that he is working, in secret. Iexpect to see him come-to the frontat any time. With v )7 A ‘ . , ‘ . . See f what Raynold, ’layfair and the others make ; (lentccl John. and thisoutlaw who is rob- ; bin;r us is operating under that. name. leav- I should like to know, ' however, where he is, so that I might offer ‘ all the proofs necessary to vindicate him- “ I hope so.” “ lint. there is a terrible cloud hanging over him. Judson. Ilc was known here as in;r the impression that lie is John IIeath» cote. And. worst of all. nearly everybody believes it." ' “ That's bad." «I ‘ I should say so. I do not know of half- a dozen persons who really and truly believe in his innocence.” - ‘ 0 “ Dark enough, certainly." “ Yes. Ilerc are my wife and I, and of the detectives here and a lawyer at Denver. " “ Then one of the detectives does believe him innocent, ch?“ . “ Yes, thoroughly.” . “Then he’s the man to help your son-in? law, I should say.” ' “ lie is willing and eager to do that; but, you see, John is keeping quiet, and no one can say where he is." “ Do you not know?” “I do not.” I The colonel, then, gave, his friend all the particulars of the whole afl’air. o . From that they fell to talking again about the mines, and in that lay little of interest'to our romance. ‘ It had been a little time after the arrival of the stage when a man entered the private otiice of the mayor of the town, taking a chair with the ease of a familiar acquaint- ance. “ Well, what’s the word?" Millfield asked. “ Nothing much, yet," answered Sparkers, for he the caller was. . “,No signs of the fellow yet, ch ‘2” “ Not unless he’s mighty well disguised." “ You noted the man who came by the stage and went over to Lyndon’s?” “Yes.” “ Not John, of course.” “ Decidedly not. Too big a man for him." “ When the deuce are we going to get hold of him, Joel?” “I give it up. I thought the detectives would have him long before Lthis, after the work he has been doing.” ' “ And it begins to dawn upon me that he is1he best detective of them all. I tell you there is no safety for us while he is above ground.” Mr. Sparkers slightly paled. V_ “I don't know but you are right,” he said. ' Still, he cannot do us much harm when he dare not show himself. He is under. the worst kind of disadvantage.” ' “That's so. But, 1 wish they could get lold of him. I know I‘d breathe a good deal easier. soul in the whole camp that can be sus- pected. " “ You have kept your eyes wide open?" “ Night and day, almost.” - “ So have I. ” “And you can’t. find any one who needs watching. eh?” . v ,- “ Not vet. But, I am urging the detec- tives all I dare, and I hope they will get hold of him soon.” ‘ I . .. “ It is not likely he will appearherc again, ‘ ‘though. is it?” “ Not as a robber, for the camp is now too strongly guarded; but he must come if he wants to work Against us. He can’t fight from a distance and win anything. Sou are sure you noted well all the passenger‘b?” “ Doubly sure.” V " Well, nothing can be done but wait for him to move, and then be read to fall upon him and hand him over to the" angman.’ 4 f “ That’s the proper thing.” gr, “ You see, it is hardly possible that he {get proof of his innocence, and sowe wait in re him dead to rightsas soonas we can lav hands upon him. No one can say who killed Kinross.” . ' . . ,L. ' “ And the fire did away With ovary possible clue. ” v . . “ ixacti . Oh Lwe are on the winning, side yet, oel, if nothing breaks, and we; must well' to it that nothing does break. Curse him! be robbed me of N ydia‘ Lyndon; and I swore I would be even with him.’f “ But it didn't work as you wanted an.” Just now there isn’t a single”, “ I’m well enough satisfied. I couldn’t have planned a better sch’eme if I had thought a month.” Some one entered just then,-and their talk had to be cut short. ’ The one who came in was a boy who was employed about the office :is a sort of handy Jack at everything. « He had been to the post-office to await the sorting of the mail, and now he brought some letters and papers and laid them on the mayor's desk. 4 ‘ , )Iilliield began opening them. ,, «Sparkers lighted a cigar and leaned back in his chair with one of the papers in hand. Presently he heard an ejaculation from Millfleld, and looking up, saw him staring ata letter which he held in hand, his face pale. “ What is it?" Sparkers asked. “ A letter from the very.mau we were talking albut," was the response. “ The deuce! What does he say?” Before replying to that the mayor told the boy to leave the room so that he might talk with his visitor in private. “ He makes a threat, that is what he says," . he then informed. ,v “ Where is he?" , “ This is from Denver. ” "“ Well, let's hear it. I guess we can stand 3“ There is not a w It is: ‘ “ ‘Pmmmnns MILann mi) SPARKERS:-— “ The end is drawing near. You. who swore away my life, look well to yourselves. In such a time as fig: think not, the blow shall fall. I have taken the 1; step. a Gasman Jenn." i great deal in it, and here Spaukers grew white to the, lips as he listened, and he clutched the arms of his chair. l . , . “That sounds a good deal like grim old business,” he said, roarsely. , “,But it’s a shot at long range. ’eo soled '. ’ Millfield. “It may be only a bluff, to vorry !‘ ' “ Even thatis bad enough." , V.“er gives himself away, though. \Ve know ’he was in Denver the day this was I posted. That gives us all the proof we want that he is not here yet.” “That’s so. As the Indians say. never a case so bad that there isn’t some good in it for somebody. It remains now for us to watch out sharp for strangers, and to take " no chances with them.” ~ . “, And if we do that we‘ll nab him sooner ‘ or later." . I ' ."How about telling the detectives about" 'Vfllis message?” , A, ,“It won’t do." i ‘fWhy not?” “They would want to see it. ” f‘ Destroy it, and tell them you did it be- ‘ fore *ou thought.” V “ hat mightbc done. ,I could then tell ‘ them anything i please» Suppose you step out and find aynol(i,'(‘)r Pia air.” ' i .“ .You don’t want any of t. le others?" . "Certainly not I’earsuum, as you know, ‘ aad'I don‘t put much faith in Jo cc." .' ‘5'“ All right, I’ll hunt them up.’ '3 Bpurkers went ‘out, leaving the mayor to breed over the matter till his return. It was an thing but pleasant food for reflection. ’1 I n the tool came back he had the two - detec ves withhhn. » ‘ ‘ ' “What's this Sparkers tells me?” cried Playfair. “ You have heard from that es- " (taped convict?” ' , ~ " . ' Yes, and he was at Denv‘eronly a day ‘ I’m sorry I destroyed the note before I fight; or I would show it to you. lie threatens another descent upon "this camp, andl'want you to look out for him.” ‘, “And we'll do that," declared Reynold. "(We have already got our eyes" on the man who came by the stage today and who went atonce to Lyndo ’ . It’s not unlikely that Shela here on Gent el John’s account, and .if We mean to know it,.you bet.” , ‘ CHAPTER XV. ‘ 'i i snsrrcron mam? .msmssnn. .11 was after supper that the English dude, '2».Garnet Poke, and Frances Cantril were looted on the piazza of the otel, talking. ' There was-a rumor abroa‘ that .the woinan to make another conquest, and ‘ ere'was foundation'for it. Cert" .ing is for. tain it was that Frances never tried to avoid Mr. Poke. “And have you found out yet what the new building is for?” Mr. Poke asked, to bridge a break in the conversation. _ “ 0, Mr. Poke, my curiosity has not yet been gratified,“ was the charming response. “ Have you been able to learn anything about it?” “ Not a thing, Miss Cantril. I have asked questions enough about it, for your sake, but no one seems to know what it is to be. A good many are of one opinion, however.” “ Indeed." I “ Yes." “ And what is that opinion?” “Why, they think it is going to be a gambling palace, as you call them here in America. ” ' “A gambling palace! Surely that will never be allowod here at Daisy; do you- imagine it will? That would be terrible.” “I am sure i don’t know, Miss (lantril. You Americans reso deueedly odd in evdry- thing, don't you know, that a fellow never knows what. to expect next. You are so very odd, don‘t ye know."_ “But, Daisy Drift is becoming so fash- ionable, Mr. Poke." . “And the more fashionable the more the gambling, I have found it,” was the re- sponse. “ You cannot mean that.” “Indeed, yes, truly. At Long Branch, and at Saratoga, where I stopped last sea- son; m first summer in America, you know; Iywas amazed.” '" ‘ “ Well, we ladies are not allowed to know much' about sueh things. But, to think fiat we are to haVe a great gaming establish- ment right here——— Oh! it will ruin the lace, Iknew it.will.” ‘ “Here comes Mr. Millficld, perhaps he has learned something about it." “ Sure enough, I will stop him and ask.” Just here a word or two about the build- ing in question. , t was one of the finest structures that had yet been erected in 'the place, and there was a mystery about it. ‘ Three stories in height, the up per part had been set off into suites of rooms on a grander scale than at the hotel, and more handsomely furnished. ' The whole of the first floor had been left in one grand room, and now for somedays furniture. and fixtures had been arriving by f rei ghters; and the place was being fitted be- hind closelLdmrs. . Naturally e rough there Was much curios- ity, especially on the part of the female por- tion of the population. Who the owuer of the building was, was yet unknown. A, ', ' He had remained in the background, and the builder had refused to make known his name. When Millfleld came along by the piazza, Miss Cantril sto ped him. “ Mr. Millfleldi" she cried, with curiosity.” I l “ That is certainly had, Miss Cantril,” was the response. . ‘ The worthy mayor stopped, lifting his hat. ' ' ' ” Can I be of any use to you?” he asked. “ Can I satisfy your curiosity in any way, and so save your life?” ' ‘ “ I am dyin to know what thntfnew build: . Poke has been ti ing to find out for me, but has failed;—not t trough any fault of his. but because no one seems. to know anything about it. ". g ' a “ Which is very true," attested the Eu lish dude, adjusting his eyeglass. “ 1‘ coal , not find anybody who knew anything about it.” "‘ Well, as it. happens, am ab 9 to gratify you,” the mayor averred.- ' , . “Oh! how spendidl” cried the gushing Miss Cantril.‘ . ‘ I ' “ It is to be 9. added. , "That is what was hinted at tome,” de- clared Poke. " Nobody could give me any facts. however.” ' “Because no‘one had.‘any facts to give,” saidthe mayor. .“I was informed by mail “‘I am dying today that the propri‘etor will be here to ‘ t . open toJmori‘ow.” , , I “And are youreally ng to permit such at; set; ' ‘ help? the ,«young woman gambling palace,” Millfield' “How can we help it?” asked the mayor in turn. ' . “ But, it will be hom‘blel” “ It is one of those things that mnnot be helped.” “ Well. I suppose not. And if it is to be. respectable, that will be in its favor." “ 1 think I can safely promise that itwill be that.” “ Do you know ,who the owner is?" “ Yes; his name is James Southway, and he is from the Southwest country. He has been in'1)enver for some time,” “ Do you know him?” (I N “Well, Mayor Millfield, you cannot im- agine what a relief I feel,” laughing. “ That building has given us ladies more trouble than you could guess.” A few further remarks were exchanged, and the mayor passed on. “ So, we are to have a gambling place, eh?” the youn woman mused. “ Do you ever gamble, 1i rxPoke‘?” , “ You could hardly expect a fellow to be- tray his own vices, could you?” was the counter-question. / “Isuppose not; and from that I take it that you are guilty.” “ Well, I must admit that I have played more than Was good for. my mind and pocket,” was the admission. . “ Then I am. all the more sorry it is epm~ ing here." . ‘ “ You have an interest in my welfare ?” “ I take interest in the welfare of all my friends, Mr. I’oke. I am happy to be ablctor number you among my f riends.” “'And I am proud of the honor, I assure on.” i y Just there they were interrupted by the coming of Mrs. .Rainhard and her son. “ I find you in 'our accustomed placcs, I see,” she said. “ llow me to introduce my son, Johnston Rainhard.” The names of the others were mentioned, and the mother and son took Seats. ‘ , “ Well, how do you like Daisy Drift, Mr. Rainhard?". . . v ‘ I 3 so inquired Frances Cantril. “ It is a beautiful little place, was the re- turn, " but] am afraid I shall make my so- journ ,short. ” “ Yes? What is the matter?" I “Mother has been telling me about the terrible times you have been having with the outlaws.” “And I am afraid I have really alarmed him,” said the fond mother. ‘ “But, the danger is about over now," de~, elared Frances. “ We are well protected, If ‘ and it is not liker the fellow will‘cor’ne any more.” l ' . “It is to be hoped he won’t, truly," spoke up Mr. Poke. . ' “Has your mother told you all about the terrible man?” asked Frances. . “Yes, audit is truly terrible. I would not care to meet him. I suppose herewe- are safe enough. from him, though, since you have a police force.” I "‘ Oh. yes, there is no danger, now; and I guess he will not bother the stages any more, either.” Two men came up the steps and advanced toward them. ‘ They Were the detectives, Raynold and Playfair,\ and the came straight to where , Johnston Reinhar sat. '- ‘ ' “We beg your pardon," spoke Reynold: " but we must ask you some uestionsfl,‘ The man seemed to turn slig tly pale, and the noted it. , It rs. Reinhard, . too, seemed to grow alarm‘cd, and even Miss Cautril. But, it was only natural they should, perhaps, since- they recognized the men and knew who and ‘ what ‘they were. “ Very well, agreed. . “ We understand you are from Chicago.” ’ “Yes, sir.” - , “ You are. a stranger to us, and we hare orders to find out who and what every - stran er is. ” 4 _ "-1 ell, you know who I am, do‘ you. not?” , “ Perhaps; but:we are after proof.” “ What roof do you want?’ , “ Anything that will show that you are. P pflot Genteel, John, the outlaw, or an ally of ' s.” I g .. . gentlemen,” Johnston I O “ Good heavens!” the man gasped, as he Sprung to his feet. Mrs. Rainhard, too, sprung up with a showing of indignation, and faced the detec- tives. 4,, “ How could you ever!” she cried. “ You know he is my son, and that I have been looking for him for days. How could you?” ’ “ We are not saying we believe anything of the kind, madam; but, we must be sure of every stranger, you know. All “we ask is some proof against what we have named as bare possibilities. ” “ But, it is an insult to us!” cried the mother. v “ And I will not submit to it!" cried J ohn- , ston. “ You have not been treating others in this manner,” Mrs. liainhard added. “ You do not know what we have done, madam. We investigate very quietly. and that is the end of it. We came very quietly to you, and if there has been any excited re- marks you have made, them.” “What proof can I offer you?” the son in- quired. - ‘ h “Any proof that on, are just what you claim to be; that is a We ask.” , “ Will letters from my mother here satisfy you? I have several that I have received at different places.” _ " “ That will just satisfy the bill, sir.” “ Then here they are.“ Johnston Rainhard took some letters from his pocket and picked out three or four which he handed‘bver‘ for inspection. '- The detectives looked at them critirnlly, and finally handed them. back with an air of much satisfaction. “That settles it,” the have troubled you, Mr. ‘ see how it is.” ' “ To think that I should be taken for an outlaw!” the man exclaimed, indignantly. But the next instant he laughed, rema 'ing what a joke his friends would have upon him if they should hear of it. said. “Sorry to iinhard, but. you _, CHAPTER XVI. . WHO Is This MAN? 11‘ was by the first ' age, On the following day, that another hot -come.r arrived at Daisy Drift. . " ‘ \ He was a man’ about thirty years of hge, at a guess, good looking, with a mustache and full heard. the latter parted on the chin. ' Above the medium in height and prepar- tions, he looked to be an athlete. He was dark, and his hair, beard and eyes were black. His eyes were keen and penetrating in their glance. ' ‘ He was elegantly dressed in the finest cloth, and wore a big, sparkling stud upon his shirt front. A handsome ,ehain crossed his vest, and a cluster diamond ring glit- tcred upon stinger of‘his left hand. He wore a silk hat and patent-leather boots. Nosoonerhad he alighth than he claimed the attention of all. “ ' He looked'around him in a cool manner, taking a general surVey of the village camp ' and its citizens. That done. he entered the hotel in uneasy, graceful way. ' Inquiring for accommodations for a few days, he obtained what he sought and regis- ‘ tered his name. ‘ = a He set it down thus: “ J anus Soornwsr, , Daisy Drift.” , [Having ,done that, he turned away, but. the landlord, after «glancing at the inscrip. . V L , .tion, called him bac ‘ “ You have made a mistake, sir," he said. “I guess not. ” the stranger denied. “But you have. Here you have set down Our residence as Daisy Drift. You don‘t belong here." - t I“ I beg.your pardon, sir, but I do belon here. 1 begin 'my citizenship this do. . -» am roprietor of the Paris Salon, wh eh I shal open this evening. ” . , 'f Oh! that's it, hey ’2" ‘ "That is it, sir.” I ‘ . And‘with that the elegant stnm er lighted a cigar and turned away. saunte ng out to the piazza. . , , There he took a seat and viewed the sur- ' .mpding‘s while he waited for, the signal to dinner. Itfwas by the morning stage he had come. Daisy Drift had now two stages daily, as perhaps has been mentioned. ()ther passengers had come by the same stage, but this was the only one to claim par- ticular attention. Shortly after the man had taken his seat on. the piazza, Joel b‘parkers entered the oflice of the mayor in something of an ex- cited manner. , “Well?” the mayor asked. “ Did you see the stage come in?” “ Yes.” , “ Notice the passengers?” “ No. " “ Well, he has come.” There was no one present but. these two, and the mayor sprung to his feet. "‘ You mean‘Genteel John?" he demand- ed. “ The same. “ And without disguise? Impossible!” " Oh! no; he thinks he is disguised, I have no doubt.” “'But. on got onto him.” “ You ct. ” I “ Well, who and what does he pretend to )e 2’” , ‘ “ He has registered as James Sout‘hway.” “ The deuce! Why, that’s the proprietor ,of the Paris Salon.” , “ I know it; that’s what he has said. And he has come to stay, too. He has set down his home as Daisy Drift.” “ It can’t be John lieathcote, then.” , . "‘ But, I tell you, it is. I think the detec- 1, firms are onto him, too.” “ Then the man must be a fool. He must know it will be sure death to come here and be taken.” ' 5‘ He hasn't been taken yet.” b “ But, there is every chance that he will 0-,! , “ I don‘t know about that.” “ You don't know about it! Do you sup- pose one man can stand against this whole town?" “ No; but. when he is taken his identity has got to be proved, you see.” “ Ha! I see. Then you are of the opinion that he is relying upon his disguise to save him, eh?” . “,Yes.” "aWell, it won’t." ' , “ He will make a good fight for it, though. He has not gone to all this pains and expense for nothing, you can bet." “Say, are you sure, positively, he 1'8 the man ‘2” ‘ , “ Well, now, that is putting it right down fine. I can’t Swear to it, of course; and, it is just that doubt that may carry him ' through, ’? _. , , “Then the only thing to be done is to bring the proof against him, somehow. But, Iww is it going to b done?” "‘ We must leave t to the that." ' “ If they can do it.” ~ “ They are not fools by any means,” "‘ Nor are .they all as able as they might b331, ’ I wish We could count Pearsman on our s1 9..” ‘ “ So do I, but we can’t.” " . , “ Still, if your suspicion is correct, we will not need him, once we have the roof.” “ How would it do to arrest t e man any- how, on suspicion?” . . ' “ There is‘the doubtin the way.” , " Mi ght'make a mistake, eh i” _- “ And then he 'eouldmaketit warm for us, detectives to do~ . if he wanted to." . v They were silent and thoughtful for some ‘. moments, considering the matter. It' was one that puZzled them both. ; , . . “ I’ll tell ’you‘ one thing,” said Sparkers, ‘presently. a , ' I ‘ '_ “ What is that?” “ We have got to keep our eyes hp‘en for i this fellow, considering the letter you: re- ' ceived yesterda .” - . , ' ~ was thinking aboutmyself. ' _ “ Just what I think I begin to see through the little scheme, now.” r . ‘- . " ‘- uDO you?" > ‘ ' '- “ Yet.” ‘ “Well, what do you see?” ' " Somebody “is b' in iJohn/"Heathoote up with money. extrinsic [I193 taken this step and revenge. i" , toward beginning for: right , f V i . ‘j Yes; and beingumye intention, “ What need has he for any one to back him, after all the bold ro‘bberies he‘lias been committing?” asked Sparkers. ‘ “ Ha! ha! Well, that’s so; that‘s the way the camp will look at it when suspicion falls upon him. And we’ll see to it that suspi- cion does take a drop in his direction. " “\Vait till you See the man tojudge for yourself.” “01)! I'll do that, but at the same time I think your opinion is to be trusted.” “ Mine is only one, however. “'ait till you hear what the detectives have to say about it, too. I saw them looking at each other pretty sharply.” “ They’ll report— Ila! some one is com- ing now. Mum.” ' “ Mum it is”. ' _ Steps had been heard, and the door opened and two of the detectives stepped into the otlice. ' They were the private detectives, Playfair and Raynold. Closing the door after them, they looked around to note who was present before speaking. ‘ , Seeing only Sparkers, besides the mayor himself. and mowing he. was trusted by the mayor, Raynold hastened to announce: “Well, mayor, we believe we have found the man." “ Yes?" - “Exactly. I guess Sparkers has been tell~ ingyou something about it, hasn’t he ‘3” “ le has a suspicion.” “ The stranger?” . “Yes,” said Sparkers. > 4 “ He is the man, dollarsto cents,” declared, Playfair. ' “ Have you any proof?” questioned Mill~ field. i “\Yell, not direct, but we have the evi- dence of our eyes. He answers to the de- I seription of Genteelv John." 7 “ So might a good many men.” “Then you doubt that it is he?" , “I must have proof that it is, you know. " “And that is what we must set atwork to get for you. We’ll try to work up the (use, now that we have got something tol work on.” “ You see how it is," said llaynold. - “ He answers Well to the description of Genteel.’ , John, ekcept the beard, and he has now been‘ ‘ absent long enough to have grown that,” ‘ " Yes, true.” , “ Then, the wealth he displays. His rob- beries account for all that. ”_ v - “ It's as plain as can be,” agreed Spat-hers. “And, if“you remember, this new build- in g was begun shortly after that big Express - robbery.” - . “That’s so,” tried the. mayor. “Boys, II believe you tire on theright track. . Bunk, is a game that you will have to work ,carev \ fully, for ion will have to bring the proof to bear, yen 'now.” ' , ' ‘_‘ Yes, we know that, but we’ll get there. I think if we allow him to have plenty of rope he wi tangle himself 11 in it.” , . “ Gentee John isa shrew fellow.” ~ h. “ We have tackled that sort of men, before, t on . “ ’ell, what are. you going to do? How.’ will owgo for him?" ‘ “ f the others do not interfere, I, think we’ll let him show his hand first, and we can. see what he is 'ngto do himselfj’ . - ‘f Not a bad ids-g. . I understand .he is go~ 'ing' to open the aria Salon tonight. ‘ And aslie has‘corresponded some.with me,vI have no doubt he, will (all on me shortly- If he: does, I’ll notlet on“ that he is sue.“ pected.“ - . ,_ ~ - I , CHAPTER XVII. A oossrnnmfio an. someway ;‘ ‘ Maren. Mrthan-was not ,7 He was in (the oflice after dinner " the'stran’ger dropped in to see him. t . Mr. Southway introduced himself, " ' proceeded at once to makevgfiown the obj go with you concerning Int , _ a! license Inns: pay.” _ t; j a “ You will be required to pay a lieenso, of course.” ‘ “ How much?" . The maon named the sum, and it was not a modest one. “ That is pretty the elegant sport remarked. “If that is the figure, howeVer, .no use kicking." . l “ That is the sum.” . “ Very well, and here is the money, " The money was taken and a receipt given, and the transaction was done. “ It is my intention to open my place to. night," said the gambler, then. “ I shall throw my house open free to everybody the first evening. ” “What will cost you sornething.” "' I' can stand it. Besides, it will adveruse me. 7) ' “ Yes, I suppose so. By the way, Mr. Southway, a word of caution to you.” . “ And what is that? ' ‘ “ Your place must be kept orderly.” “ I never kept a place yet that was not or- . derl , sir.” ' . i ' . “ that is good. You see, sir, we have quite a fashionable town here, and it is growing more so every season. )Ve must protect our good name. ” ‘ “ You need have no fear of me. Inquire about me at places where I have run similar concerns, and see what you will hear. The will all tell you that Royal Jim, as they ca 1 me. keeps a decent place." “ Where have you been established?” ‘f Well, at Austin. Dallas. Los Anne] 8, Frisco. and a dozen other places inthe gouth . and West. Besides, I have presided over ‘ gar’nbliu0r palaces in the East.” “ Nodbubt you are all right, but I had to caution you. “('0 will not tolerate anything that is disorderly, you must understand.” “ I do understand that, sir. By the way, drop in and see me this evening when I get started.” A “ I’ll do so.” , A few words more and Mr. Southway took his leave. , N o sooner had he gone than Joel Sparkers, Detective Itaynold, and Detective I’layfair, . appeared from behind a partition. “Well, what is your opinion?" Sparkers demanded. _ “It is divided against itself," was the re- ’ , spouse. . . “ Then you believe it is he, and yet you . don't?" said I’layfair., , “That is it, sir. This man ' is certainly dike Heathcote, and yet it' it is Genteel .lohn he is a perfect actor. Ills eyes met mine without a sign of recognition or anything j 1 else. He met. me as a perfect stranger. ” . “ What else would you ,expcct‘!" asked ' Raynold. ~ ‘ . “ Nothing, of course; yet I did not think ’ any one could play it so we 1.” ' “‘ Frtim what we know about Genteel ‘ w ’v ; it need not surprise us. 7 . I “But. you noted what he said, about the "places where he has had gambling palaces. andthcireferenccs he gave me. What about ; "an that", _ “ May be a blulf." , “ Suppose it is not?" ‘1. “Then our.suspicion amounts tr; noth- u- In I 7 " Unless.” Suggested DetectiVe liaynold, f"‘the fellow has boudrt up the real James Soutlnvay's good wil and interest, as it .were." ‘.' Have you ever ‘ . "few?" M {"1 have heard of a gambler called Royal ' im. "hat is the name this man lays claim heard ’of the man be . ' 0 “Well. be either is or begs not_,~?md it, is for you man to decide,”- on d the mayor. , “Keep your'eycs and ears well open. and! sooner or later you ‘ its," \ , I“ But, we, Want your opinion, the best you ' can give," persisted layman. “‘We never .saw this Genteel John ourselves, you know, while you have. In which direction is ytmr ' 1' opinion inclined to lean? Is your sulpleion ’ stronger than yourdoubtst" I “ vles, it is." ' — i , “ Upon what. do you base it, then?” ';“,On the appearance of theman’s eyes. “This *iellow’s eyes are the eye's of Genteer ’mmnh .‘i iiwin ’ ' 1 a .~ 1 John, and from what We have heard of him, ' will get at the bottom of ' . , - “Ha! that is something. It is hard for a man to distguise. his eyes, and’your recog- nition of them may be all right. , However, we‘ll watch him well." , The two took leave, Sparkers rmnaihing. "You and l mu talk a little plainer when aloae," the tool observed. “ You believe, then, it‘s lleatheote, do you?" . "Ido. This man is about his age, and dark. lie is of about the same height and build. ‘ 'l‘hen, best of all. his eyes." “ I'm glad you agree with me. Now, the. Question is, shall we do away with him. and S0_!‘ “’Sh!" the mayor cautioned. “No such talk here, Joel. ( , that is not to be thought of, since my revenge will be so much the sWeeter to see, him hanged, as he ought to have been weeks ago." “ But, for our own Safety~" “ Don‘t get alarmed. We have begun it, and we must carry it to the end. You know. our testimony would have hanged him, had he not escaped as he did. We cannot take that back. And, should be dis- cover the real murderer ol' Kinross, with the strongest kind of proof, still our sworn evi- dence would stand in his way.” " 'l‘hat’s so." _ “ Oh!“ we haVegot him in the worst kind of way, youbet. lIe is in a bad box. He can- not clear himself, and as soon as he falls into the hands of the oilicers he willlhave to swing.” , The rascal laughed over his diabolical scheme. “ Well, say, Millfield?" “ Say on. ” “ Have you ever been able to get any sus- picion as to who did kill that man?” .“ Never." , “ A curious thing, was it not?” “It was,,indeed. [am often inclined to think Ileathcote reall did do it.” “Do you know, 1 mac thought the same thing, and perhaps we Were only helping Providence when we said we saw him do it.” - “ It might be. Anyhow, it does not trou- ble my conscience much, one waylor the other.” ’ " Hardly. ” “ And what about the other men ?" “ The ones who came by the surge yes- terday ?” “ (,ertainly. “ They are woman's son sure enough. banker from (‘hieago who has come here'to ! not in it. The one is the old ;buy out (lolonel Lyndon." “ What? Lyndon going to sell out?" It U ‘ Y \ “ I ought to have known that and bought “him up myself.” “Doubtful whether he wpuhl deal with you or'not Ile has no low for you, as you knowf' “,i'es, curse himl I know it. Ile be- lieves'lIcatheote was innocent of that mur‘ der, and believing that, he believes you and l perjnred ourselves." " But, we know bel,l_er,,don‘t we? Ila, ha, ha!" “ To be sure. , “ By the way, mayor, I’d like to have. a hundred dollars on account." “ Do you think I am made of money. Joel Sparkers‘!” ' “Well, no, but I know you have got a good deal more of it than I have, and you H ,must ante when I call, you know.‘.’ “ But, ,are you aware that you are draining me to the tune, of two and three hundred dollars a week r" .‘ “ You hadn't ought to kiek at that. Be glad it’s no more." . “ I’ll tell you what is going to happen, pretty soon, if you keep on as you are going now." _ a “ What‘s that?" , I l “ I‘ll defy you, and cast you oil.” " Oh, no, you won‘t; I'm not afraid of that. I backed up what you said that night, you know." , “ And if you try to retract, it will he as bad for you as for me, and worse. Y6!) and I have got to come to a definite understand ing about thismntter, and it may as well he ri ht here and now.” . parkers looked a trflle uneasy. ‘ Perhaps he realized that he had gone a step i 7 The other is a ‘ ‘ ' ‘ . . “Well, what sort of understanding?" he asked. “ I’ll give you a stated sum per week, to l hold your tongue and at the same time to aid , i me further when occasion requires, and at ' that you must stop." ‘25: i’; f “ How much will it be?” i .' “ Well. say fifty dollars!” i “ I won’t take it." H Why 2“ “ lt's not enough." “Nor will I be robbed as I have been.” “Make it an even hundred, extra above my pay as your helper. and I'll do it.” " “ Very Well, a hundred, then. _And it will be useless for you to ask any more, for you will not get it.” ’ “But the hundred must begin with this week, for I must have a hundred down now." ' “ All right, let it begin now. I'll save money even so. But. it must also be under- stood that you are to be ready for any Work I may lay out for you to do." “ You'll never find Joel Sparkers behind the barn when he‘s wanted. you can bet on it. Let me know when'you want to usa me, and I'll be on trip. You _keep~your agree ment and I‘ll do my part." ‘ Milllield paid over‘ the money to his tool, and Sparkers took his leave. , The mayor looked after him with a frown. “ Go it,“ he said to himself. “ The time is coming When Ili‘have no further use for you, and then—” . CHAPTER XVIII. ° ANOTHER ARRIVAL. p-q— VJ”. - . IN the mean time the other detectives had been giving attention to the new-comer. Pcarsman had quiet] noted him, but no one could tell what his impressiongvas, from his face. . Joyce had tried to study Pcarsman in, that respe It, but had long since given "t up. Aft the stranger had register and had retired to the piazza, Joyce approaclwi Pearsman and asked: “ Well, what do you think of that part y?" “ I believe we agreed we could not work together, did we not?" Pearsan reminded. “ ()h! hang it, I am\ not asking you to work it with me; Iam only askingr you what you think of that man. Do you think it’s John IIeathcote?” y ‘ “i do not. ” ' “ No!" - .- “From the surprise you manifest, Itake iIt lthatv you do think this man is. Genteel . o in.” “ Yes, I am inclined to think so". “ Well, I guess you are not alone in your opinion. ” , ‘ “ The others have the same idea, you think, then?” I “Yes.” “ But, they are mistaken?” “I think so.” “Well, see, here, Pearsman. there’s one question lwould like to put to you in re- gard to this fellow.” “ What is it?" , “Can you say positively it. isinot Gentecl ?” \ “'Well, no, I can not. Men in our line know how very deceptive appearances are sometimes. " ’ ’. “ That being the ease. you can‘t blame me for having an eye on the party.” ’ ' ‘ ‘ ._s x “ (.‘ertainly not; lam doing that mySeli . “ On what grounds do you lasethe opinion ‘ “ ' that he is not Heathcote?” . . 7 “ Well, on the ground that Gente‘el John isa man of hard sense, and he'wonld not I, come here in a disguise that the merest de- . tective gosliqg could penetrate." “ Then you admit there is ground for sus- pecting the man." ' _ “ If you cast your vote with the amateurs, yes; otherwise, not. I cannot believe Gen- I too] John would come here that way." “, Well, now, Pearsman, I am not an ama- teur by any rmans,‘ and hold that there is rood ground fora difference of opinion here. Iwould like to argue the thing with you." * “ Well. go ahear . f “It ml ht help us both, you know.” “ “Possigl ." , . “Well, itwill help me, I know, iflam ' wrong.‘ We ought to be 1 ble to convince.~i ‘ one or the other." ‘ ' " ' c “ .9“ « G" t m"; “ i . "w" - “‘ tied its; «than. '0!“ NW. y>rsfififiéflee l~="~“‘<‘4~“ v miss». _.r 4 ~;~;——-—._r “w; «a . I 'teel The SuSCt port of Daisy Drift. . upon my own name, so I may be. pardoned. “Go ahead then. and convince me that this man is John Ilenthcote in disguise. It you fail then I’ll try to convince you that it is not he." “ I’ll do it. In the first place, this outlaw is as bold and daring us a f'amisbed tiger. He will—" “ PardOn m -, Mr. Joyce. This :rings us back to our difference of opinion. I old that John Heathcote is innocenth the crimes that have been laid at hisdonr.“ . “ That’s so, that’s so. There’s no use our try- ing to agree up )ll anything in this case. But, I’ll go on and give you m VleW of it, anyhow, since I proposed the thing,r and have com- menced.” ., “ Yes, let’s hear it all.” ‘ “Well, as I said, he’s bold and daring. He takes the greatest kind of risks, ani seems to hold his life cheap. He has maie a good many rich hauls, and could well afford to put up a building like the Paris Salon, and furnish it in a manner worthy a Croesus.” ' “Exactly, from your point of view.” “Then, the manner in which the building has been put up, in secret as it were, adds to the strength of the suspiCion. Why did not the man come here openly and show himself? Finally, at the last moment, he has appeared, under the name of James Southway, but in everything save his heard he answers well to the description of John Heathcote.” “ Is that all you have to offer?" ‘ Seems to me it is enough.” “ What is the man’s object, admitting that it be Genteel John?” “ Well, in the first (place, safety. If he can pass the ordeal and hol his id ntity out of sight, he will be safe. Then, the place like this, ought to be a paying concern." “ Does that sum it all!" “ I might stretch a few more points, but I’ll rest my case at that.” . “G enough. Now, I’ll gratify you by givin on my view of the matter, from my stande nt, and you know what that is, DOW.” . “ That Gentee John and this highwayman are not one and the same.” “ Exactly.” “ That is understood. Go ahead.” “ Well, I hold that this new-comer is not Gen- John, because he has made a display of wealth impossible for John Heathco , who is not by any means a rich man. .Then, , he is running no risks of recapture such as he would be in danger of were he to undertake a role like this. Moreover, what could be hope to gain by such a by-play? His oh‘ect is to hunt down the murderer of Murdock areas, and so clear him- self of that charge.” “ But you must admit that this man answers well the description.” “ Yes, so he does; but so would many men— man hundred of men. There is little in that.” “ hen you do’not encourage me any in my suspicion!” I N 7? “ And yet, do you know, I think my argument is stronger than yours.” ‘ Well, you are welcome to think that way.” “iAre you going to give no attention to the man?" . “ Nothing in the way of suspecting that he and Genteel John are one)? “Well, see here: You believe Genteel John and the road-agent are not one and the same; what about this man’s being the latter?” “On that point there is a possibility that you .are right.” “ Do you think I am right?” H ) dl“" nfound-l you, Pedrsman, you are a rid- e. “ Not at all, Joyce; I am tr in to m k m - self as plain to you as I possibly can.” a e y “ Then perhaps the fault is mine, and I am a blockhcad.” . “ I must be stubborn enough not to agree with you there, either. You have a record which gives the lie to that.” “ Well, is there anything we can agree on?” “ It’seems we have agreed pretty well to dis- a ree. ’ l 8“ And I guess that is about the only thing we can agree on here. It is more plain than erer that we cannot work together. There is no oc- casion for us .to work against each other, thou h.” .- . “ one whatever." . And so they dropped the subject for the time. They have not been idly quoted, but with the purpose of showing how opinion at Daisy Drift was divided. , There was one great question, and that—If John Heathcote was ‘there It the village camp, in what guise was he concealing his identity? Since every other personage there had. been subjected to sevare inspection, and had passed the ordeal favorably, this new-comer, J a Southway, had to bear. for a time at any ra , the full weight of suspicion. , . Was he the man? i ‘ Let the reader judge for himself, having seen the question argued pro and con. The afternoon stage on that same day brought another new-comer, but not one who could be an , of being Genteel John. It as a wean. aris Salon, in a' She was young, not a day over twenty-two, and pretty. When the stage arrived the suspected sport, “ Royal Jim,” as he was already called, was the one to open the door and help her out. Taking whatever she had to carry, be escorted her into the hotel. The crowd leoked after them. and many fol- lowed t'neni in, having no further interest in the other passengers. The sport left the lady in the parlors, and went to the office to register for her. She wanted meals only, for the present, he told the clerk; she would occupy one of the suites of moms over the Paris Salon. The name he entered on the register was-— “Brian DEARBURN, City of Mexico.” As usual, the detectives great and small—par- ticular] the latter, were eager to learn the name 0 this pretty stranger who was under the protection of the gambler sport. And when they did learn it, they thought they had new grounds for suspecting James South- The young woman’s appearance had told them plainly enough that she was an American, and her name added strength to the belief they had formed; but, it was here claimed that she was a nativo of Mexico. Surely, there was something crooked. The others “ho had come by the stage were two Mexican women, as their appearance be- spoke, and two or three then. The Mexican women had follOWed Ethel Dearburn into the hotel, and were plainl her servints, and thus her claim to citizenship in Mexico was in some measure borne out. Two of the' then looked after the baggage that was set down from the rack, and which was afterward taken to the Paris Salon. Later on, Royal Jim conducted the young lady over to the Paris Salon, where, with her Mem- can woman ‘attendants, he left her, returning to the hotel himself. ‘ This as w-comer was the handsomest woman in the place, by long odds, and it was no wonder that she was looked upon with eyes of admiration and envy—envy on the part of the women there before her. CHAPTER XIX. A VICTORY HARDLY WON. E. GARNET Poxa. the English dude, was sit- ting on the hotel piazza after supper, when Frances Cantril join him. It has been said the she lost no opportunity of enjoying his good com any, and he certainly made no effort to avoid era. They had seen the pretty newcomer at the table, and as Miss Cantril came up to where the young Englishman sat. she asked: “ Now, tell me, Mr. Poke, what did you think of that creature?” “ Aw—whom dmyou mean i" “ Why, that hold irl who ate tea with the princely gambler, to sure." “ Ohl Why, I assure you, Miss Cantril, I con- sidered hgr very beautiful indeed. His wife, I pre e. , “ eautitull She?” “I thought so, truly; but, then, men are such r judges of what beauty really is, you knew. ou ladies have so much‘ keener insight.” “ And I thought men flattered themselves that they were the best judges in such matters.” “ Certainly I am not one, then, Miss Cantril.” “_Yet, by you-- can admission, you have pass- ed yudgment in this instance. ‘ _‘ No or ; I beg pardon, reallv; not my judg- ment, Miss Cantril, but my first impression; that was all." “And that impression is that this young wo- man is teautiful, is it?” “ I thou ht her so, I must confess." s, “ Well, must agree with you in one thing.” “ And what is that?” ‘ “ That men are poor judges of woman’s beauty. Wh , Mr. Poke, considered this person very p ain indeed.” “ I am glad to know how little my impressions are to be relied on, Miss Cantril.” “, But, she is a coquotte, with oil the sire and arts of her kind, and loan “see, that‘she has for the moment dazzled you.” ' .. “I am glad to know it, Miss Cantril, and from such good authority, for 1 can be the better on my guard, should she have any evil intentions against me, .don’t yin know.” This was said in all seriousness v- " The woman was silent a moment before she re oinegi.d he a now taken a seat, and was , pared to defend her position. pr? “ You almoat lead me to suspect that you are trying to make a joke at my expense, Mr. Poke,” she said. , » ‘ “ '1‘ ing to Poke fun at you, as it were, eh P" So t e young Englishman returned, laugh- ng \ - “ And now vou'are so rude as to make a pun. Really, Mr. Poke, you shock me.” . “ beg your pardon, Miss Cantril. I was trying to make no joke, and if I did pun, it was Bur, you did not express your opinion respecting the observation I made.” “ And what was it? I fear I did not catch ' it.” “Why, I said I supposed the lady was the uife of the. gentleman u hose protection she acoepts.” There was a toss of the head on the part of t Miss Cantril. “ Perhaps," she said. “ You speak as if you doubt it.” “ She tertainly looks old enough to be his wife, if it were rot for the paint and powder.” “ Bless me! Paint and powder!” “ Yes. Could you not see that?“ “ ’Pon me honor, Miss Cantril, I’ll never trust my eyes again. I n as admiring the freshness of her complexion, it was so rare, you know; and now to be told that it was only art—” “ And very poor art at that." “ Well, well, I told you men are the poorest of judges when woman‘s beauty is the thing to be judged. But, tell me, what did you think of her escort?" “Mr. Southwayl” H Yes.” " Oh! I thought him very nice indeed.” It was her chance to take revenge, perhaps she thought, and she meant to improve it. “ Very nicel Good heavens! Miss Cantril, where can be your taste? , Why, I took him to be a perfect cad, don’t you know.” “ You did!” “ Yes; and I was wonderin how so charm- ing a creature as the young ady could endure his society.” ‘ “ Bow stranfifrthat we should look upon them so diflerently, . Poke. Why, did you not note the fineness of the gentleman’s attire? How very well his clothes set on his handsome figure? And his jeweliiy—” “Abominab cl Quite out of taste.” “ Are you taking revenge, Mr. Poke, for what I said so frankly about the woman i" “ Can you think I would stoaptothat, Miss Cantrili No; I am merely giving you my own impression as freeiy as you gave yours.” “ And may your judgment not be at fault here as well as in the other case?” ” It would be unpardouable of me not to ad- mit it.” “ Then I am going to insist that you are mis- taken, sir. I look upon Mr. Southway as a gen- tleman, and I consider his dress quite in keep- in _" - I g‘ With his position? It becomes the gambler very well, I am towed to admit, Miss Cantril.” The woman flushed with anger now. “Do you seek a quarrel with me, Mr. Poke?” .she warmly demanded. “ Good ’eavens, nol” was the exclaimed re- sponse, with the dropping . of an “ h ” in his' haste. , “ Then why do you cross me so persistently?" “ Bless my soul, Miss Cantril, I was only ex- pressing my honest opinion. I was not aware that th s mantras anything to ybu—” . “ Nor is be, either. That was snapped out more vengefully than she had spoken yet. “wa very unpleasant that we should come to such an unha my understanding. Permit me to beg your par on and take the blame to my- self, Mics Cantril, and we will talk about~somec thin else.” I _ log ” “ suppose must accept your ap’o y, sir. “ You would not hurt me so much as not todo so, I am sure,” was the humble rejoinder. \ “I am afraid we came very near to having a quarrel. Mr. Pokc,l’ with a forced smile. “ And how silly that would have been, when these per- sots are nothing to us. heath us sociall '.” “To be sore,’ agreed the Englishman. “ We were not speaking of them comparatively, ex~ * rcpt! to compare them with each other.” ‘ su to-night. Shall you attend “Such was my intention', M Cantril. —pardon me— somewhat on auto learn what position the young lady holds in the establish- me t. ’ ' - ‘ “ You can not mean it, surely,” . “ But I do, Miss Cantril. And wh not?" “You Owe it to our set, Mr. Po e, to loaf.” “ But I can’t, don’t on know? I am asqu of curiosity as—as-l in l as I can be.” . . “ We have made up our minds not nise‘these persons in any way‘ than Poke; and as for entering their plac , _ think In, ‘ Words could not express it. “ That is perfectly roper, If Miss Cantril. For me, t ough, I a tocoine and go at will, and if your set wi cast me for so trivial e transgression. so be it.” . “ How provoking on are!” “ t intentions y so, I'assure you. I am break g no engagement that I am aware of it! so“ I wish I could induce you to remain away." , “ Andi! suppose you wuld, if the indmt were strong enough.” “It wfllhaVetob'eastrongona!" “ Very was indeed." They are, of course, be». . pose Mr. Southwa’y will Open bi. pk“, _ Twas,~ ,5". ,. Suspect Sport of Daisy" " ,4 ,,'-, ‘1' . “ Then I have no hope, although I had some- thing in mind.” “ What was it you had in mind?” “ I Would scarcely dare to reveal it, now, knowing how useless .it would be.” “Still, if it is something you had in mind be- fore you learned what my intention is, you ought to tell me.” ‘ Well, I was going to ask you to escort me for a walk up the canyon this evening. It will be moonlight, you know, and—” “ Say no more. No inducement could possibly be stronger, Miss Gantril, and I willingly yield the point.” The scheming young advontnress, as we well 1 know her to be, smiled when she saw that vic- tory was hers. I Her possible rival was distanced for the time being, at any rate. Current gossip was not wrong when it hinted that she was playing to win the wealthy young En lishman. e had shown evidences of his wealth since coming there, and some of his letters, which chance had permitted her to see, bore a title up- on which her heart was set. “ How good of oui” she cried. “Good to myse f, rather,” was the return. At that point they were joined by Mrs. Rain- hard and her son, and the conversation turned. “I havea favorto ask of you, Mr. Poke,” Mrs. Rainbard presently remarked. “ You have only to name it,” was the re- sponse. , “ My son is desirous of witnessing the opening of the Paris Salon this evening, but.does not care to go alone, and asI heard you remark that you were going he would like to go with you \ H 008. " That is my desire,” was the reply. “ And it was my intention, true enough,” de- . clared Mr. Poke, “ but a greater inducement having been offered for tho evening’s pleasure. I have changed in mind. I am sorry, sir, but cdnnot help it. owaver, you can easily find other company.” ' Somethin of a light of satisfaction seemed to ,beam upon rs. Rarnhard’s face, at that. Whether it meant anything or not does not appear, yet. ) Would you go to such a place?” cried Frau- CHAPTER 'XX. OPENING 'rns: rams SALON. ,DAISY Dam was t‘u.l ol'uxcitement. ‘ _ The opening. of the Paris alon was an event which had been looked forward to ever since the character of the place had become known. Everybody was eager to gt a view of the in- terior, and, as evathi‘ng was to be free on - this night, many Were eager to taste the Wares gt the-elaborate bar. There was a tempting alt. , That, however, was calculated to catch the common herd. For the more. fastidious 'ones a bait, of a differ- . , .ent sort had been provided. A And that was, the good-looking young lady . who had come by the sta e, and who had taken , up her quarters at the Be on. t , Nearly all of the young bloods and sports of the place were eager to see more of her as well . as to learn what her relation to tho gambler sport-really was. ‘ Before the hour for opening come there was a ~zooticrowd in the street before the building, I made a of miners and laborers chiefly. The 0“bloods and sports, curbing their desire, re- mained in tho backzz ound. , t v SOuthway, or “ Reyal J in,” was on the plains of the hots talking with Mayor Millfleld, , r “ Inotice your citizens are somewhat eager forapeep into the new resort,” the gambler made remark. , 'i‘Yes; and the are not backward about showing it, either, was the mayor’s return. -“I suppose they are orderly fellowsl But, .’ the camp speaks for that.’ ‘4 The are better than the average.” “'An they look it.” .. . “ There are two or three really rough custom- .here, ' but they are kept pretty well under ""3 mm", a: ' f at tr t I , suppose ey are eager or e ea have promised them.” i ' ‘ ~ “A good many of them are not willing to V {rain that.” “ ‘fWell, the shall have it. I anticipate no trouble. We vs a way of dealIn with unruly {customers which they w ll not rel sh, if we find any such.” I I It is not likely there will be any trouble. I w ' speak as) the. men just before you open the ‘ _ and Erepare them for what is required In. I ops your venture will has sat» l do I, m yor.‘ You have scorched moso .1??in in the ay 'bf tax, that I must get even - . can. : “Couldn‘t help it, you see. Mus‘t‘mako it high to k -~p out little concerns, which doimore harm than goo I.” ' ‘ “I Ire. And, rowdthaai [ham donut ,f on put I e on all a others, "O‘Brl-hoflold" , g \n‘ " V ' .7: f “ Perhaps we can come to some such an agree- ment as that, Mr. Southway." “ Never mind calling me mister; just make it Royalgim, the name that has become so familiar me. “ All right, just as you want it." “ That way.“ good enough.” “At what hour do you open?” “Eight o’clock.” - “ N ot far from that now. I’ll say a word to the boys." “It will be just as well, perhaps. And then I’ll go over and see if everything is in order.” The mayor drew a' chair to the edge of the piazza, and mounting it, called the attention of the cr0wd. ‘ The Paris Salon was on the other side of the street, not far off, so the mayor was noticed at once and the crowd listened to what he had to say. “Men of Daisy Drift,” the mayor addressed them, “ I have a few words to say to you. Thenew place over there is about to be opened, and I hope you will all observe the rules and regulations. ’ “ Yer kin bet we wnll do that.” “ And ther free drinks, too.” “ I hope the evening will pass without trouble of any sort. Mr. Southway, or Royal Jim, as he is known, is a gentleman, and he ex ects to treat every man of you as a gentleman. hope you’ll grove to him that you are. He intends to throw is bar open free to all-” “ ’Rah fer Rigel Jim l” “ Hooray! oorayl Hooray!” “ Yes, free to all, but not to make pigs of yourselves, of course. There will be one, two, possibly three drinks to a man, but no more.” “ That’senongh l” “ Onl adarn hog would ask for more.” ' “An then, there is a very important reason why you should conduct yoursclvcs like gentle- men while in the Paris Salon. It is presided over by a lady. I know you, howevor, boys, and I know that the reputation of Daisy Drift irate in your keeping. I need say no more than t at. “ That’s what’s ther matter,” cried one. “We won’t disgracelther town, you kin bet.” “ Every man of as is a gentleman an’ a scholar.” “An’ we’re ready ter give three cheers for ther Mayor of Daisy Drift.” “ You bet!” “Out with ’eml” “ Hooray! Hooray! Hooray!” ' The mayor lifted his hat and bowed, and step- down from the chair. Royal Jim took his place, and, with hat in hand, su id: “Citizens of Daisy Drift, I want to assure you of all your mayor has promised you, and more. This evening is to be yours, and for the occasion the Paris Salon is to be yours, too. We are there only to serve you. We are your friends. Everybod is welcome.” That was all, an more cheering greeted the words. Royal Jim Went at once our to the new es- tablishment, while the mayor turned to talk with those on the piazza. _ ' “ I guess there will be no trouble there, he observed. “Not likely,” some one agreed, “ unless that fellow German comes there full and tries to run things.” ‘ “ And it he does he will get laid out, that's all, if I have to do it myself. I have promised this man protection and he shall have it.” The man referred to was the local terror. He was a big man, ugly when drunk, and was called Gore the Giant. Powerful of frame and greatjn strength he was feared, and no man there at the camp had ever downed him. He was not noticed in the crowd, and some one on that piazza ave out the hint that he hail scenan in one o the saloons drinking pretty eavx y. But, he was soo forgotten. . _ Precisely at ei ht o’clock the doors of the new resort were throwa open, and the crowd poured n. , Greatly to the amazement of the roughs, in- stead of finding a bare floor their rusty stogies sunk into the soft pile of a rich carpet, and their footl'alls made scarcely a sound. “ Gee. whiz!” one fellow ejaculated. ‘ “ Ain’t et jes’ gorjus l" exclaimed another. “ Talk ’bout yer ’Rabian Nights—st don’t oompnarel” ' “ by didn’t they tell us 0‘ this hyar, so‘a we could ’a cleaned our feet?” - Every man of them had some remark to offer and most of them to the point, as the crowd sum in. ‘ Paris Salon was well worthy the name. The large room was royally furnished, from floor to ceiling, with everything of the most costh sort. ‘ The bar and its fixings. on the right, made up a work of art in itself, while the chairsand sofas' o . ositolooked too floater use. 3 , ot a man of the crowd felt stthome. . Further back weretbe gamingatahles. and at _Mngapopew all“! ; tornader. platform, stood the young woman queen of the salon, gorgeously arrayed. She looked a queen indeed. ‘ , t, Standing in a strong light, radiantly beauti- ‘ ful, a smile of welcome was upon her lips. A little distance away to the right stood Royal Jim, while several attendants in livery were he: a and there around. Behind the queen, on each side of her dais, stood the two Mexican women, and behind her was the chief gaming-table of the room, behind which was a royal chair. When the pr: ssure from behind began to P abate, as most of the crowd had gained entrance, it those in front stopped as though in awe of this vision of loveliness which a nironied them. ; b It was then that Royal Jim spoke. '. “Men of Daisy Drift,” he said, “allow me o ' to present you to Queen Ethel, the presiding '1’; goddess of this establishment. You are her guests while here. Her word is law, and to ,,. her your homage is due. She welcomes you, one and all, to her domain. She will briefly ad— dress you.” “Yes, welcome indeed,” the young woman- ‘ .' spoke immediately. “ You are my guests to ’ night,.and the best of my establishment is at your command. There is the bar, free to a]! n he desire that; here are the gaming-tables for those who desire to wro the goddess Fortune. Everything is free to-night, and I call upon you to enjoy yourselves as best you can.” She bowed, at that, and retiring lehind the polished taro-table, sat down on her throne like chair. “ You understand,” urged Royal Jim, then, “ that you are heartily welcome here, and you must ‘make yourselves at home. Do not be afraid to touch and handle things; that is what they are for. For the, tin e being, everything is yours.” “ Then blame me of I ain’t goin’ ter take,a gulp at the bar,” cried one rough fellow. He advanccd in that direction as bespoke, afid his words and action broke the spell upon a I I There was a general scramble toward the bar, then, the tw0 men who presided there :geedily had their hands pretty full serving the mug. ‘ While this was, going on, others entered. New Game the elite of the place, the bloods and sports, and leading them was the mayor, with whOm came Johnston Rainhard. ‘ - These evinced no su, rise at the elegance of the lace, but all did a vance to pay homagetto the autiful ucen who presided over it, and to whom Royal im presented them. ‘ « Thus an hour passed quickly, and all the time i the assemblage was being augmented by fresh arrivals, till it srcmed that nearly the whole population of the town must be there con- . gregated. Everybody seemed‘ happy, and the «.T' ,» Paris Salon was voted a success. ‘ CHAPTER XXI. MARKING ran rmsm EVERYTHING was peaceful, and eveerbdy was hupp , when suddenly a newcomer et out a wild yefl that startled every one. “ Whoop-eel” was the cry._ Everybody looked in the direction of the door. There was the bad man of the tOwn, Gorman, or' Giant Gore, as he was i alled; or, as oi'tener— Gore, the Giant. _ l He was drunk and in a bad temper, as ,every .. one who knew him could see at a glance. :‘ . With his hands on his hips and his feet wide , - apart, he Was staring Around him in dtunken amazement, but he was in nowise abashed by wliaevhle saw. ” “ mopee, yow-owl was his cry again. Trouble Was lookedvfor, now, by those who - - knew the fellow and his moods. 1 One of the liveried attendants of the place ' ‘ '-" stepped forward to him and politely requested him to be quiet. Giant Gore stepped back, pushed his hat for tip from his brow, and replacing his hands on ‘ .’ 1 his [$3, with great drunken gravity demanded: — » “ all, now, what’s ther matter «1' you!” “ There’s nothing the matter with me,” was the quiet rejomder, “ but it you want to remain in here you mutt mist." ’ “ Whoop-eel W p-eel Waughl You don't. safiso.” , ' e fellow had yelled more wildly than ever, and now glared at the attendant defiantly. No one cue loflel'ed to interfere, yet, and for two reasons. * ‘ First; no one was eager to tackle the giant; and next, many wanted to see how it would come out. , The man in the liv laid a hand upon the giant’s shoulder and jer ed him around facing the ricor, at the same time ordering: " Be' "quiet. sir; otherwise you must go out.” Qore, the Giant, let out another yell, and with a sweep of his arm carried the attendant ofl his 1‘ feet and deposited him on the floor. ‘ f “ An more of ye want'somel" he cried. “ If ye do, eat come right up hyar and tackle ther raised“ stims, or flies. ‘ B erIam.withm win Illspread and I’m readivnter tackle anyghlnggtshat . ‘witho’it any knowledge of his strength, and had 'e Shspft ‘éport of I) any: Drift. He gave another yell to, fill up. the measure. The other attendants had by this time reach- ed him, and they laid hands upon him together. Giant Gore stru glad and fought, swearing at adesperate rate a i the time, and presently, by his cvermastering strength, had brushed the men awa from him, sending two more to the floor. “ hat’s ther matter hyeri" he demanded, glaring around. “ Ain’t a eiterzeu got no rights hycr no more? Wull, I reckon he has, ef ther court—house knows herself, an’ I reckon she do. Got any more 0’ them ’ar things? Ef ye have, trot ’em out an’ let me eat ’em.” “ Sir,” spoke Queen Ethel, standing up in her place, ” you must observe order here, 0r 1 shall ave to turn you out.” “ Wull now, gal, that 'ar thing has been tried on alread , I reckon,” the fellow declared, with a drunken swagger. “ And et didn’t ‘work worth a cent, either.’ ’ “ But it will work next time. quiet?” By this time the men in liVery had got them- selves together, and wire now ready for the signal to tackle the fellow again. ' ‘ I reckon I’ll do jest asI please about et,” the fellow retorted. ” I don't take sass from no darn woman, 1 don‘t, an’ you don’t want ter try ter give me a bit of at, either.” “ See here, Gil German,” cried Mayor Mill- Will you keep , field, “you. must either shut up or get out of here instantly.” - “ An' who is goin’ ter put me out?" demanded the giant. “ I guess there are enough men here to do it, if those who have already undertaken it can’t ac- complish it.” “ That’s what’s the matter,” agreed one citinen. , “ It will not be necessary to have much trouble about .it, I uess, sir,” now spoke up Regal Jim, who had n absent for a moment, an who now reap ed. He_strode straight out to where the giant was holding the floor, dud as he came up to him, ordered: “ Now, sir, either you remain quiet, or out you go. We do not allow any one to raise a disturbance here, and that seems to be what you want to do.” “ Who wants ter do at?” “ You seem to." " Wull, I don’t, not a tall. Jest ’case I kem in hyer an’ let off a whoop 0’ joy ’cause I felt so good, is that [any reason everbody should jump on me? I only said— Whoop-es 1” He gavea loud sample of his yell, and again looked defiant. “ I’ll give you half a minute to make up your mind what you will do, sir,” the master of the co said with determination. “ Either sit own or get out.” Gore the Giant'looked at him from head to; feet. . “I am of ther mind at will talio more’n you ter put me out,” he cried. “ Which are you going to . do? nick l” “ Which be I goin’ ter do? I’m goin’ ter do jest as I darn please, hyer or anywhere else, an’ don’t you ferget that. I’m a tall chief, lam, an’ I kin climb ary galoot what I ever tackled yet, an’- I guess I kin climb you. Waugh I” Another yell. The 'crbwd pressed close, but no man attempt- ed to interfere now. One reason for their not doing so was that many of them wanted to see what sort of stuff the sport was made of, and this was a good chance to find out. ' They soon learned. With a leap the polished and diamonded sport was upon the giant, When, lifting him clear. he held him over his head and walked with him to Answer ' the doors. Loud cheering greeted his performance. The doors reached, he gave the man a fling and de sited him in the dirt of the street. ' If thl’sowas a fair sample of the prowess of ghe gambler sport, Giant Gore had certainly found his master at last. That done, the sport walked quietly back into the saloon, rearranging his slightlydborderal attire, and smiled as serenely as though nothing had happened. I The attendants had fol lowed'him to the door, where they now took their station. “That was a splendid feat," complimented Mayor Milldeld. - “, Ohl it was nothing,” the sport declared. “Order must be reserved, you know and that was only a mild cloning of what will happen if the foolish fellow persists in annoying us. , “ I can well believe that you are capable of dhaling with him.” "Or with any one else,” was the declaration, without any appearance of boating. “ We can keep order here, I guess.” \ “It looks that way.’ By this time Giant Gore was up, and was bel- ' lowing at the door. . . He was held at bay, however by the atten- . dantsthere, who. in spite of the i act that he had once overcome them, were powerful fellows. They had tackled the man in the first instance ' gaming-table, temporarily come to grief, but they were equal to the emergency now, and more. “ Let me in that;, I say,” cried the giant. “ You cannot come in,” he was informed. “ You had better, go away.” “ Let me in, I say, or by ther rip-roarin’ of I don’t more’n jest demolish things ’round hyar!” He made a dash, but was met with drawn weapons, and seeing that the odds :was against him, and being sober enough to recognize it, he slunk away. As he went he made dire threats, however, whether they were to amount to anything or not. - ' In the mean time Queen Ethel had opened a game at her table. I ‘ Such had not been her intention, on this night she declared, but many urged her to do so, an she had at last complied with the re nest. Among the players were Mayor illfield and his com mons, Johnston Reinhard, and Mr. Judson athflnder, the guest of Colonel Lyndon. And besides these there were some of the young bloods .of the town. The Lyndons, father and son, were there, but took no part in anything. They had come only at the urgent reques of their guest, for it must not be lost sight of t at they were in mourning for Nydia. At first the colonel and Jackson both had re- fused point blank, but afterward alIOWed them- selves to be prevailed u n, nines their goin or not going could in no w assuage their grie . When their est had taken a place at the owever, they drew apart from him, and the more readily since the had no deeire‘to come in contact with Millliel . “ Do you think he is treating us right, father?” Jackson nestioned. ' “Hardy,” was the response. “He is not what he used to be; far from it. Irepent of having asked him here.” “ But, that was purely a business matter.” “Yet coupled with a friendly invitation “to stay at our hottage.” “ Would it not/be right for us to go and leave him there, since’ae seems to have forgotten us?” “ I was thinking about that very thing. We are sad]~ out of place here anyhow, and I feel pretty h tter against myself for coming at all, and Nydia dead.” With the last words his voice was husky, and Jackson turned abruptly and advanced toward the door. , The colonel was ri ht behind him. At that moment athiinder glanced up, and seein them goingfcalled out: “ i ii not going, colonel?” . Colonel Lyndon turned and answered With a nod, not caring to trust himself to speak just then. ' “Yes we are lgoing,” answered Jackson, bit- terly. ‘ This is no place for those who mourn, and you seem to have no further need of our company.” With that they went on, and out. , “Thunderl” cried their guest. “ I believe they are in a had over nothing. I will see you again. Queen Ethel, and finish my play. I must go and make it right with‘my friends. ’ He quickly settled his account with the bank, and went out. Mayor Millfleld and many other interested witnesses, gazed aiter him. , CHAPTER XXII. srnmemc A SURPRISE. “WELL, what do you think of my pinion new!” The speaker was Detectiva Joyce, an the person addressed was Detective Pearsman. “The same as before,” was the response. “ I see no reason yet to change my opinion regard- ing the matter.” They were in the Paris Salon. The reinark was made while the playing was going on at the table over which the queen of the salon presided. It was after Judson Pathfinder had gone out, as told at the closing of the preceding chapter, and the place was asqulet and orderlyas it and tbeen before the trouble with Gore the inn . x . All the detectives were present, and Joyce had just moved around where he could speak to Pearsman. ‘ ‘ “Then you do not see further evi nee that this ambler sport is Goan John'in 'sguisel” “ cannot say‘that I do.” ‘ “ Where are your eyes?’ “ In place, I guess. “You area puzzle to me. I «one: and or- stand how it is you will not notice things which - are so very plain to eve “ There are some antics.” . “ And this one!” ‘ ‘ “ You hav ,not said yet to what you refer.” “ True enough. Well, did you not note the ag‘i‘hitrv and strength this man possesses?” as A body else.” ings not worthy ;’ of “And it has bten said that John W' has unusual athletic powers.” “80 he has.” . -' - 5 sighs: is itnotprooffurther that thlsishe!" o. , . i ' ' _ 4. ' , heordered. _ i . .f here. Fall hack.,every man 0! yolk-and m , u Whv?” “ Can you imagine that John Heathcote would come here and display the very characteristics which would give his disguise away i” “ Might be not thmk his disguisetoo perfect?” “ If I were to allow myselt to think this man. is he. i should consider it no disguise at all.” “ Ha! then there is some excuse for my think- ing as I do.” “ None whatever, from my point of view. From your Own there is the best of ground.” “ Well, well, I can’t understand you, and will" not tr to, further.” “ ot so long as you hold to your present ideas regarding the case, that is sure.” “ Are you trying to convert me?" “ Not at all.” “ If you are, you will have to advance for stronger argument than you have yet. But, hal what’s this?" ' There was a slight commotion across the room from them.” Looking, what was their surprise to seek Detective Rhynold and Detective Playfair in the act of arresting Royal Jim. . . Each had a hand on his shoulder, and each had a revolver presented at his head lll a dangerous way. , “ What means this?” So the gambler sport asked, quietly. “ It means that you are arrested on suspicion: of being the outlaw, Genth John.” In a moment all was excitement. Every person had sprung up, and a crowd im—e mediater gathered around the detectives and their prisoner. Queen Ethel left her place in haste and made- her way to where the prisoner stood, smiling and confident. “ This must be a mistake,” she said. - 1 “ It not only must be, but it positively is,” do. cfared the sport. “ You will have to prove that,” said Pleyfair. “ You are our prisoner, and you are warned not. to resist.” “ The thing I have least intentional! doing, gentlemen.” “ And you are warned, too, to be careful what. you say, for it will be used ainst you.” " I have only this to say: hat you are mak- ing the grandest mistake of your lives, this time. I am out your robber, gentlemen.” _ “ Upon what grounds have on made this ar- rest?” demanded Mayor Millheld, as he pushed his way to the front, with a great showing of in-~ digestion. ‘ Upon suspicion, sir,” was the answer. “ How could you suspect this gentleman so grossly} Upon what grounds are your suspicions ‘ “ We prefer not to answer those questions- now, mayor,” said Raynold. “That would be to show our hand before the right time. At the immination we will set forth our reasons in; oil. “ And llwould”request the:a he befimimd at once gent omen, spoke u ueen e . “Ashe shall be,’ cried field. , _ “ It is all the same to us," agreed the detec-' fives. " The sooner the better, perhaps. We. ‘ are ready to show that we had good groundafor our action.” " It is to be hoped you had, for you have made a serious mistake, I am satisfied of that,” Hill- i’lleld rejoined. ‘ “ What do on think new?” demanded Deteov tlve Joyce of etective Pearsman. . “I think they have made asses of Meshes,” ' was the candid reply. ‘ '3’ I “ But, if they happen to be right,they have snatched the plum just the same, and we are not- in It.” I . ,' . “ Don’t let that trouble you, There will be an immediate examination, and you will use up man clear himself all right. It will destroy your own suspicion against him”; “Iameager now to see whether it. “l not.” -. “Count yourself lucky that you are not in this thing with them.” ‘ 6| u Eh ti The 3?? ha til th was a t cit p sonar on ere was scarcely! room for them to move. ,V: The detectives had few, if any, an a. the crowd. The royalmanner in w Jim had been entertaining had won thesuppcrt o‘l' everybody.,aad theyhsd-veosd him a “chief.” - I g . ‘ _. Millfleld now rung upon ashalr ed the crowd to back. ' " “Make room. boys, make make “There is hardly spans to onegosnd fetchJostioe Brunet atonce. Hr. , Samara! shall have ’a hearing as qmcklyagr Donnie. . need not haudculf me, gelatinous," In “You the was saying'at the same e to the“; a e" ves. ca , * - amomnunsyeuwmmthsndmflhiml” m. tation would be in jeopardy!" '- . = N , . ._ Meanwhfio everybody was talking, and tho' . . exoiiement was t. . _. , - -, . ' -ked itself around the‘deted. ’- 'v r “ldonet mean to attempt toes— 2*? " .The @iispe‘ac sp rt or*"‘:oy 1D fl: .. “ You are warned not to try to escape, then,” cautioned Playfair. “ We will find means to stop on if you do.” “ ave no fear of that,” was the smiling re- ' 1y. “If you attempt to handcqu me, though, I) will resist that, for I have never had the steels on my wrists and never expect to have them there.’ “ Well, we’ll take your word,” Reynold com- promised. The crowd, at the same time, had fallen back, and more room was made around the prisoner. “ I am sorry for this thing, Mr. S xuthwny,” spoke the mayor. “ You may be sure it is some thing in which I have had no part. But,.you will be able to clear yourself of this ridiculous charge, of course.” ' ' “ I certainly hope so, at any rate, mayor. No, of course you are not to blame in the matter. I can seethat.” ‘ “ Where will you have the hearing, sir?” asked Queen Ethel. " Right here as Well as anywhere,” answered Millfleld. ' “ Very well, your justice may occupy my seat here on the dais, and the table can be mdved out of the way.” he cal ed to the attendants and ordered the ta )le removed, and chairs were placed for the accommodation of the prisoner and others. Several men had obeyed the mayor’s order about going for the justice. There was a buzz of excited ‘ comment in the room, and everybody was talking with his elbow neighbor and discussing the merits of the case. ‘ Royal Jim was as cool and smiling as ever. He seemed to be the least excited of any person there present. ‘ a The peerless Queenl Ethel, too, was cool and calm in manner, now, though she had exhibited a trifle of excitement at first. ‘ . “ This is rather different from what I antici- ‘ 'pated for this even'mg,” the prisoner observed. “ I should say it must be,” agreed the mayor. , “ For my part 1 can't see how suspicion has . fallen upon you.” , ‘ l " Who is this Genteel John? if I m’ay ask.” “ Is it possible that you have not heard of Genteel J ohnl” ' “ I have heard of an outlaw with some such name as that, and these gentlemen arrest ‘me for an outlaw the say.” , ml. 1, 4 John, or John Heath- " That is it. nteel cote, his real name, has been a terror to this part of the country for smie time. He is a murderer for whom the allows is waiting.” “ Then if a case is me. 0 out against me I am in danger." - . “ You might be, if they-could prove you to be John Heathcote: but, how are they to do that?” “ They seem to know.” “ We on] suspect, understand,” reminded ' Reynold. ‘ You are arrested on suspicion Only." “ That is bad enough. Don’t you think, though, gentlemen, it would have been better to have waited till you could make out a sure case against me?” “And. let some one slip in ahead of us and cart ' off. the reward?” “ . sl that’s where it lies, is it?” “ We have not been working for fun, he sure of that.” f “I suppose not; but, you will have had your labor for naught.” - '« ‘f That remains for you to prove. If you are G'enteel Jcfin, none of this bluff work is going to serve you, be sure of that. If we have made a mistake we stand ready to take water in’big doses.” » \ , ‘ pH‘Arrsn XXIII. UNDER A CLOUD. THOSE who had gone to bring the justice were not tardy about it. In a little while they were back Jog him with them, having explain wanted. ' Justice Russet was a man past the prime of life, with irOn gray hair and heard, and a pair of green little eyes that were quick and pene- tra n . Whgn he'entered the Paris Salon, Mayor Mill- g fileld ailed him at once; ,- “ ht this way, Justice Russet,” he called out. ‘ Here is a case requiring your service.” " AH right, mayor, here I nm,” was the re- s ones, and the littleman—Russet was consider- l a l y under the average in size—made his way to . the front. , " . « The chief seat on the dais had been reserved r him. QWhen he took his place there the chair seemed ~ to swallow him, but it did not swallow his voice. - '_' Now, what is required of mailibe asked. . Although he had been told, he saw fit to have it explained again in the presence of all. - , “Well, the case is this, ’ answered the mayor. “ Mr. Southway has been arrested by these two detectives on the charge of being Genteel John. again, bring- what was the outlaw. and he demands a hearing at once.” , “ Ah! Very ‘well, let me hays a jan.” There was a constable in the crowd, and he 3’ was told to get a jury togetheras quickly as possible. This was speedily done, neither the detectives nor the prisoner raising anyI objections against any of the men chosen for that duty. Presently all was ready. “ Now,” said the justice, “ I am ready to hear the case. If the charge is sustained, the prisoner will be held for trial. If not, he goes free.” The prisoner rose to speak. “I accept the situation,” he said. “Let my accusers present their proofs, after which I will try to, defend myself. I believe that isthe usual wa . . “ That is the way, sir.” The prisoner sat down, and Detective Raynqld rose to make the charges. “ We have made this arrest upon suspicion,” he said, “ feeling that we were justified in so doing. We are are not prepared to prove the man’s identity, perhaps, but we want him held' till we can do so." “That is hardly in my line,” said Russet. “You are doing this upon your own responsi bility. If you cannot support your charge at this time, I must order that the prisoner be set free.” . r ‘ We know that 3 yet we think the sus icions will warrant you in holding him. W en he first arrived here we saw that he answered well the description of Genteel John. Then, We questioned whether it might not be he. The outlaw had not been heard of since about the time the erection of this building was begun. A good deal of money had been spent here. After is rich robberies the outlaw was prepared, to spend money freely if he chose." “ Your line of argument is not altogether un- reasonable; but, you have no proof, it appears.” “ 80 I admitted, sir.” “Well, have you any further grounds?” “Yes. “Is have been told that John Heath- cote was a giant in strength, and this n has proved himself such in the way he handle Giant Gore this evening. We want him to prove that he is not Gsnteel John, and f he cannot dose; them-We claim the rewards at are offered for, him. If he can preve it, the: we have no more to say except to offer a humble apology for our mistake.” ' . “ What do you think?” asked Joyce of Pears- man. . - ,. “I think—Thou fool!” was the' half indig- nant response. “And I am of the o inion myself that they have gone oil’ at half-cocE.” “ Allowing to their own eagerness not to miss the reward. They deserve to lose it now.” “ Ani is that all you have to say?” the justice had asked. - “ That is all.” “ It is a weak case.” “ Yet it may be a strong one.” “ By what authority did you make the ar- rest?” . “ We are detectives having that power.” “By what power can you hold this man if I let him go?” “Well, It is like this: If we have not suffi- cient hold 11 n‘himg) warrant you in holding him we sha i not w: t him held. ’ “ The prisoner has now a chance to speak to defend himself.” ' Royal Jim rose in his place as calm and cool a «Vet. “ I suppose this man Heathcote was well known to many of your citizens here, at one time. was he not?" he asked. “ He was.” answered the justice. “ Then let those who know him well, step for- we rd and say whether I am the man or not.” No one offered to do so. “ Mayor, you knew him, did you not?” H Yhs'n ‘ > “ Tm n you say, for one.” ’ ' . The mayor stepped up to the man (1de looked at his face searchingly. As he did so, a puzzled look came over his Own. “ You certainly look like John Heathcote,” he said, “ but still I do not want to say you are he.” i "flDon’t be afraid to speak your conviction, s r. ' “ Let some one else my.” “ S md for Colonel Lyndon,” some one sug- gested. “ N n, we object to that,” spoke up Detective Reynold, quickly. “ Why do ye ’hjeckl” ' . “ Because, he is friendly ti) the outlaw and would not identify him at any cost and let us hold him.” , . “ Then you want only men who will favor your position?" hinted the prisoner. " No; we only ask for those who are not pre- judicei.” . ' “ Well, let them‘come forward.” Several men wore called, One after another, and while all said the man leaked'like Heath- cote no one would as he was the man. “ Then, would you old me, and perhaps hang me. just because I happen to look like Genteel Johni” Royal Jim asked. “ I think we can hold on till we can bring further mm.” answered I’layfair. tort. person you haVe suspected me of being, I demand my liberty until you can bring further proof. At the same time it will giVe me the chance to bring ample proof as to who and what I am, and to gather the material for an alibi, if it comes to that. What is the amount of bail, Justice Russet?" “ Smce you are not my prisoner, I have no hold upon you, sir,” was the reply to the t. “Then, gentlemen,” to the two detectiws, “ I demand to know what hold you have upon me. If you have no better authority to show than the bare fact that you are detectives, the quicker you take yomsclves (if the better.” “There, you see,”raid Penrsman to Joyce, “ is just where he has got them.” “ Can’t they hold him, then?” “ Does it look like it?” “But, they suspect him, and he has not die- proved it.” “They have got to give him the chance to do so. They fired their gun a little too soon.” The two detectives, Reynold and Playfnir, were greatly chagrined, and their faces showed 1 ” Well,” said Playfair, “ since the justice here will not hold you upon our suspicions, you have the advantage of us. We have to releaso you; but, We declare our suspicions against you, and if they are borne out by the facts we want it understood by all that we were the first to, pronounce them against you.” “ Yes, that is understood; and, now, I propose three rousing hisses for a of jackass detec- tives. Who will join mell’ There was a loud shout of approval from al- most everybody. ' . The gambler sport gave the signal and the hisses were loud and long, and it was ended with 'a dismal groan. “ It serves them right,” spoke Queen Ethel. "I cannot understand what ever led them to so mad a conclusion as that Mr. Southway is the outlaw.” - “ I guess they can hardly understand it them- selves,” said Royal Jim. “ Don‘t be in haste to go, gentlemen; you are still welcome here; we hold no ill-will against you.” 0 d The abashed detectives were making for the 001's. ' “ We have been plainly shown that we are not wanted,” snapped Raynold. “ Could you expect me to submit 'to the indignity you Iput upon me without in some way retaliating? ardly.‘ And I did it in the mild- ,est way I could.” ' - " And you may regret it, if we can bring more pr00f against you.” “ Whenever you get the proof, come along. I shall set to work at once to get together proof as to who and whatI am.” “ We’ll see what you can do.” “ Yrs, you'll see. ’ "l'he two pessegl out and the sport addre the crowd. “ This evening has not ssed as pleasantly as Icould wish.” he said. ‘ You have seen how- ever, that it has been no fault of mine. ' u the first place, that bully who came in here to kick up a muss had to be ejected. I Then came this stupid farce, if I may call it so. I assure you gentlemen, that I am not an outlaw, and that I am not John Heathcote. If there are any among you who think I am, set to work and bring en‘your'prmf. The sooner the charge is re- moved, or proved true, the better I shall like it. I am placed in a shadow by the charge that has been made.” “ But, we don’t believe et all ther name!" So one man sung out. “ That’s what we don’tl”.cried another. ment in many we 8. “ Well, 1 am g ud you ‘do not believe it, my friends," Royal Jim accepted. “lassure you it is not so. I am what I am, bad enough, per- haps; “butl am no outlaw. And now all re- sume your pleasures, gentlemen, and perha s the remainder of the evening can be spent, Wi - out further drawbacks.” The enjoyment was not whht it had been, however. Men stood around in groups, discussing the situathm,‘ while those who resumed their games did so half-heartedly. In many minds the Seeds of suspicion had taken root, in spite of the general declaration to the contrary, and, as Royal Jim himself had said, he was under a shadow. ‘ CHAPTER XXIV. LOVE-MAKING EXTRAORDINARY. ‘ IN the mean time E. Garnet Poke, the English dude, had kept his word with Frances Cantril, and the pair had gone for their walk up the canyon. ' - The night was a perfect one, just the sort for food lovvrs to wander abroad, and the fair Frances hung upon the arm of the titled young passion was aflame. For a time their “And I hardly think you can,” was the re- us. '. “Since you cannot prove me to be the. And the whole crowd voiced the same ssnti- ‘ .o Englishman in a way to show that the tender“ ‘_ talk was nothing to \interut ' lira. ,.-_._M..;,.-.I,--._I. r *esm _. , I‘- XS (MA ‘g‘ aw u _ The Suspect’iSport of Daisy Drift. Finally, when they had gene quite a distance from the camp they came to a place where an inviting spot induced them to sit down. “ Do you think it is safe here, Mr. Poke?” Frances asked. “ Really, I do not see why it should not be,” was the response. “ I was thinking: of that terrible outlaw.” “Oh!” and the young man gave a start and looked about him. “ I guess there is no danger, Miss Cantril.” “ I hope not. tect me.” “ If I Could do it; for, they tell me this outlaw is a terrible man, don’t you know.” “ And so he is, too.” “Speaking of him, dear Miss Cantrilpleads me to say something that has been on my mind for some days now. ’ “ What is it, Mr. Poke?” , She asked eagerly, but there was something of apprehension in her tone. “ Do you know, I love you, and—” “Oh! Mr. Pokel" “ Yes, I love you, and I would make wife—4’ “ Oh! Mr. Poke! Had We not better be going back?” making a movn as if about to rise, but not doing so. -“This—this is so sudden, and— (ind—4’ “ Yes, I would make you my wif , flu in you I find those rare qualities which are so seldom found all together in one person. This has been my dream, dear Miss Cantril, and—" ‘ “This is $0 sudden, Mr. Poke! I cannot-I dare not—deny that you are very dear to me, and—and—" “ And you would be mine?” His hand touched hers. She drop :1 her gaze, but her fingers gave her answer y a pressure. “Then my dream would not have boon in vain,” said Mr. Poke, and he gave a big sigh. " But, alasl”! ' “ What do on mean?” , So cried ranCes, now, in a tone of some But, then, you are here to pro- you my ' alarm \ “ Alas! what might have been can never be, unless-a” “ Unless what?” “ That the story I have heard he falsei” “And what have you heard? If you were not pro red, why did you ask mcto be your wife? but is the obstacle? You have led me to betray my secret, sir, in a Very unpardonble manner.’ ‘ “ I did not ask you, dear Miss Cantril. You did ’pot permit me to finish what I started to say. _ -, “ Then what did you start to say?” “ I meant to say, that I love you and would makelyilut m h d ectuosace a ru 11 inthewa." p “ And what is thastxl)" as p‘ y “ I’liave been told that you are a divorced wo- man. Frances flushed painfully, as the strong moon- light plainly revealed to the eyes of her compan- on. . “ What need that matter, so long as I am free to marry whom I will?" she demanded. “ It should not matter, Were I free to follow my own Will,” was the response to that. “ And why arexyou out free?” “ My fortune is-at stake.” “ Then love must yield sway to fortune ?” “ A Ibeggar has no business with a wife, Miss Capgil.” ' ‘ ut you are no beggar I sho ld i i . Of course I know nothing abo’ut it, gammy “ I should he, were I to wed other than a spinster.” . , “ How strange. I fear I really do not half understand you.” “ I don't wonder.” “ You spoke about the outlaw.” “ Yes, so I did.” “ Why l” ' “ Because, the samoperson who infonmd me that you had been married. also told me you had had some sort of oscapade with this ' Genml John.” h «it: “ It is falsei” the woman flashed. “Then I have been wroagly informed, tb I placed much confidence in the person who me these things." ‘ “ Who was that person?" “ It were treason to tell you that.” “ Well, tell me what he told yea.” “I may do that. He told me that you had imposed upon this. Genteel John at a hotel in Denver, at the time of a great fire, and had put yourse in the place of his wife and'so per. mitte him to carry you out, at the cost of the life of his wife.” ' “ Ohi how false!” ' “ Then that out of revenge, this man, Genteel .Iohu, had been instrumental in our marrying a rascal, a robber, whom he afterward exposed and sent to prison. You see I have food for reflection, do you not?” “And that is the reason on will not now marry me, after leading me an admission of my affection for you?” , “ No, no; that has no weight with me. I would not care haw many times over you had wife were it not that an unex: l stakein the matter.” : “ Your love must be deep.” “ I.;>,vo must not'be allowed to run away with i sense. ‘ , l “ Suppose I were to say I would wed you f even thou b you were as poor as a man can be?” . “ Then would say that your love had run i away with your sense. No, that is not to be; and, it being so, I would still befriend you.” | “You have not told me how this precious ; property of yours is to get away from you if i you wed me.” , “ Easily told. It was left_ to me in such a way that, if I married a widow or divorced woman, it was to go immediately to the next hair. My father had bitter hatred for widows and such. It I marry a spinister it’s all right.” “That’s a peculiar thing, isn’t it?” I “ It is just so peculiar that it dashed all my hopes respecting you. I hoped the story I had heard was not true." . , “ But, Mr. PokcAny marriage was almost as though it had not been. In the Same minute that l was pronounced the wife of that rascal he was arrested and taken away, and I never fawgiim again. You see it wasalmost meaning- esr. , “ Yes; but it was none the less genuine.” “ Yes, I am sorry ,to say.” “And that being the case, there is no use of my entertaining any fond hopes toward you.” “ Do you truly love me?” “ Would I be talking like this did I not?” i‘f,Then, could the difficulty not be surmount- e( ‘?‘ How?” e‘élye could both swear that I had never been w . “ I would be required to show the proof of it.” ” That might be done, too.” “ Yes; but there would be the chance that the gflg’h would come out, and then where‘would I e - ' “ Then it is plain that your love for me is not very stron .” “ I woulg not dare to put yours tothe test of poverty.” “ And you are unwilling to tell me who gave you $11 this information i” ‘ 1 ’u Wh'y r, z: I would not betray him.” , u A friend of yours?" Let us not speak of him again. Will you permit me to give you a hint that may lead to Your happiness, since we can never wed i” “ I care not what you tell me.” “ There is another who has regard for you.” “ I should feel p‘oor indeed had I no more than one admirer.” “ Yes, I suppose so: but, this one is one well worthy your attention, for he is rich.” - “ Do you think, Mr. Poke, that I am going to let you go free after the manner in wh ch you have discarded me, after asking for my hand?” “ Good heavensi What do on mean to do?” “ I can sue you, and so spoi you of a part of that fortune you are so afraid of." “ You might if you could get at it, but that you could not do. No, that is not worth your while. I can show you bigger game.” “What is it?” “ You have seen the gentleman who is stopping at Colonel Lyndon’si” ‘ “ Mr. Pathfinder?” I (I Yes.” “ I have.” “ Well, he has been inquiriniabout you, and I think you could win him and is immense for- tune with little effort.” ‘3 That is cool, i must say.” “ I know it is; but. since I cannot have you, I can afford to be generous to a rival, when it w ill be for your own good. What do you say to it?” “ I was never so insulted in my life, Mr. Poke l” ‘ ‘ “ I’m sorry for that, seeing that I am trying to do you a good turn. Marrying him, you- would be lifted at once to the highest position societ can offer you, and the past will bedead.” “ on I it me more and more! Come, as. cort me back‘to the village immediately, or I go alone.” . “ I will escort you, certainly. I fearour walk . u thought it i as not been as pleasurable as would be. You do not hate me, iss Cantril?” “ I almost hate you. You have wronged m I hardly believe the story you have been tellin me. I do believe you are in love with that thing at the Pam Salon, the reason for your action this very nightl” - CHAPTER XXV. machine it COHPROHISI. ' Wrrn her words, Frances Cantril turned and ltalked away in the direction of the distant vil- 29- Mr. Poke went after her at once. calling out: “ Really Miss-Cantril, I cannot allow .you to go alone, don’t ya know. You must rmit me to escort you back again. I shall insis upon it.” “ You may follow.” . “ Very well, if you wish it so‘, but I will fol- low very close.” ' The woman’s breast was filled with the rancor l man. It has been hinted that she had been seeking a. marriage with him, owing to his Wealth and title. Such had been the case. _ Now her hope was gone, so far as that was concerned. Not only so, but she had been put to shame by this “snob,” as in her mind she termed him. He could not marry her because she had cnce been a wife, though a wife in name only. been divorced, were it not that my fortune is at ‘ of a keen disappointment, and she hated this He had brought her disgrace vividly before her, as 5 though taunting her with it. At any rate, so she felt. They had not gone a great distance when the woman suddenly stopped. She stooped and picked up a folded sheet of paper that lay in the path, and opened it, utter- in,c_r an ejaculation of excitement as she did so. The Englishman was only a step behind her, and he was at her side immediately. ‘ “ What have you found ?” he asked. “ it need not trouble you,” she snapped. “ Oh! it does not trouble ‘ me any, I assure you.” Frances was reading the note, which the pa r was, by the brilliant moonlight which floodfid the shallow canyon. It was in these words: “ mecrs CANTRIL, Munnnanss2— “Once again y: u have felt the hand of cameo}: John. Your scheme has been balked. You are an adventurcss at bu st. You are not worthy the name of woman. that of my wife, beware. The hand of vengeance is. against you. and happiness. , " J on» HEATHCME.” The Englishman seemed to be trying to get a glim so of it, but she foiled him. “ his is not intended for your eyes, sir, and you need not expect to see it.” she said. She folded the missive and thrust it into-her pocket. “ You are pale,” Mr. Poke remarked. ” If I am it is with indignation at your con—7 duct ” she retorted. “ am sorr .” A. “ Which I do not believe.” “ For which I am yet more so .” “ Do you knew we have been fol owed here?” No! II He spoke the word in an 'exclamation of in arm. “ Well, we have, and b a foe of mine.” “Can it be possible? protect you.” “ Ha, ha! Little protection you would be against this foe.” ' “ Who is he?” . “Genteel John, the outlaw.” ' - “ Good ’eavensl” with the loss of an “ h.” “ How much protection do you think you» could be against him I" _ . “Lotus lose no time in getting back, Miss- Gauthrfl. If the worst comes, I can but die for on. . " Would you do that!" . “ I hepe the occasion will not re uire it.” . “ Well, that makes me think a ittle less bit- terly of you, anyhow.” “ And I am glad to hear you say it. What‘ def; , that terrible fellow say to you, if I may as “ There is one thing I want to ask of you, Mr. Poke.” ‘F And what is that?” “ If you will answer it, I will then tell you- wbat you desire to kngw.’ . _ , “ Let me hear it before I promise.” ' “ Who told you what yfiu came to know about m life? I must know w 0 that person was.” er object was plain.- 'l‘his note from Genteel John declared it had' been e who had blocked her plans regarding .ma rage with this Englishman. Learning who- had told Poke the secrets, she would have a clue , to Heathcote’s identity. “ I cannot tell you that,” was the firm an— swer. “ But, I insist upon knowing, sir.” > “That makes no difference, not a bit. I. aim 1 cannot disclose it.” . “ ell. was it some person at the village?” “I cannot disclose anythingegardin it.” , “But I tell on I must ow. It really necessary that toot mad! against this foe.” “ W t foe!” “ Gonteol John.” “ What, has he to do who told molthese things!” “ I will tell was he who laid the plan for having this motion brought to sou.” " Blem me! you cn’tthink that, do you?’ “ I know it to be so.” " How do you know it!" You, who saVed your life at the cost of , I spare your life. but not your peace- hen we must hasten I back, and I insist upon walking at your side to , should know, in order to pro- 4 you that, and very plainly;sf It orb \ with me, or ; “ Because, in this letter, or note, he taunts mo ‘ of haviu been played with by you." She di not express it right]; “ You wmng me greatly,” t clared. “ I have told you my fee you, and you know what I would a were it. not that my father’s will is in the way. é Eufllshmander V toward ‘ - -;':5r’:.“‘i to f '53“: “6' .‘ “ I would not marry you, n0w, were you heir to the British throne.” “ As I can well believe, for your pride has been made to suffer, though, it was no fault of mine.” “It was brought about by this foeof mine, this John Heathcote, and if y0u have one spark of regard for me, and would help me to revenge myself upon him, you will tell me who your in— formant was.” “ Imp asihle!” “ 1 will rind out, though, in spite of you.” “ That 1 cannot help, of course. You will never get it out of me.” They went on for some time in silence. “ Presently the Woman stopped short. “ I have guessed it," she declared. “ You have guessed what!" “ Who told you." “ I hardly think so.” V “ And I feel sure of it. It was that Mr. Pathfinder.” , ‘ “ Oh! you are very far wrong, Miss Cantril.” "But, you mentIOned his name to me, and since I have luwn thinking it ovar it impressed itself upon me that it might have been he.” “Not So at all, I assure you. I simply said he was my rival, or was likely to become so, since he is interesting himself in you; and l hinted , that there would be your golden o portuuity.” ‘ “ Again you insult me! As t ough I need any one to chums a husband for me.” “ You couldn’t make a better choice yourself, of that I may assure you. He is immensely rich, and has many of those charming qualities which you ourself possess.” “ on are generous to a. rival.” “ I have told you the reason.” “ What do you know about this man, since he is up for discussion?” . “That he is rich, and that he is here for the purpose of making a deal with Colonel Lyndon ‘ or the mine.” “ I infer that he is single.” Such a woman! An adVenturess, seeking only a moneyed , 'ralliancel “ How could it be a match if he were other- ' wise? And, it is not likely there will be found ,any impediment. as in my case.” “You speak as though I am thinking about your absurd proposition, sir. Do you think I am a Woman without a heart?” “ Far from it." “ One would think so. I want toask you, Mr. Poke, what reparation do you intend to make for the injury you have done me?" ' “Bless me! as if i am not trying to open the way for yoo now. Am I not trying to open the way for you to get a husband who has even more wealth than I? And one whose means are an. limited, I might say.” ‘ “i will not be insulted further, sir!” ,. “ What a strange creature a woman is, don‘t ou know. What reparation would you have rue m kc?” 1'} (J as you pay me a good sum, sir, I will sue on. ' “That would he the height of folly, don’t you . know. That would he to waste time, and your chances would slip.” ""Y’pu are enough to drive one to tears, a1.- I’ll tell *— l v “If you would only listen to reason. ‘ you what I will do, if you will agree.” “ What is itl” . “ I ,will aid you to win this man for your hus- band. 'o “Insult added to njury! Sir, you shall pay ,Ine ten thousand dollars. or I sue you.” " Upon what grounds?" ' “ For breach of promise. “ Flel I have promised you nothing.” “I will wear that you have, though, and overde knows how attentive you have been to me. on have taken up all my time, to the exclusion of every one else. i " “ Was it not rather the other way? You first ' placed yourself in my way, and have retained the place pretty constantly, to be very all! about it, since you are so lain with me. ow- .ever. I will consult my in ormant about it-” , gWNo, no, do not do that. We will let ‘it drop for-the present. We will both let it plainly be anderstood that all is at an and between us, “Meyer.” _ " 1 to that, much asit pains me to give Jon up. ‘ CHAPTER XXV]. run orsrum centurion. ! Minx they got back again to the village camp it was about the time when Royal Jim was: ejacting Gore, the giant, from the Paris ’9 there poems to be some excitement here. is. “83 I observe,” was the response. - 1“ And I believe I will go in and see what it is all when I have seen you safely into the You are cortainl at liberty togo where yon Mt, Poke. on may get an opportunity I‘. ~ 1 n. > “Hello!” exclaimed Mr. Poke, at the Si ht,, to see the fair Miss Mystery; for, you will not i close your eyes to her, of course.” “ You are a little rough on a fellow, don’t you I know Miss Cantril.” “ Y’ou confessed how much you admired her. ; Well, here is the hotel, and I will relieve you of i the burden of my company.” 1 “ How cruel of you, dear Miss. Cantrill If 3 you only knew what it costs me to give you up , sol _But, since I may not possess you, do not , forget the hint I have let fall.” “ And how can I ever thank you for such : tlmughtfulness!” This with an attempt at keenest sarcasm. , They had now come to the steps of the hotel l piazza, and the woman tripped up them lightly, Mitt-I'ng the house withcut even saying good- night. ' The young Englishman smiled as the door closed after her, and turning, crossed overto the Paris Salon and entered there. What was taking place therf) at the time has already bet-n told. About the first acquaintance Mr Poke encoun- tered was Johnston Roiuhard, who had sought his company earlier in the evening. “ Ila: how i; this?" Ruinhard greeted. “ Surprised to see me here, of course.” “Yes, since you told me you‘were not com- i .3? “ Well, you see, 1 am just free from my other engagement, and seeing some excitement here, thought I would drop in.” “ You are late for the fun.” " So it seems.” “ This man, Royal Jim as they call him, is the strongest man I ever saw in my life.” “ Yes?” “ He certainly is. man out of doors?” “ He had just deposited him in the street as I came along.” . ” Why,~he lifted him right over his head and hurled him out like a bag of meal, or something of the sort.” “ How much do you think the man weighed 3” " The one who was thrown out?” . “ Certainly.” “ Not a pound less than two hundred.” “ The proprietor here is no Weakling, then, tbatflis sure, though the feat is no very great one. ' “ I never saw it equalai.” “ I have seen it surpassed.” “ Possible?” " Yes, truly. I once saw a strong man take two other men, heavy fellows both of them, and hold them out at arm’s length, one in each hand. And not only that, but he threw them both through a window, one after the other.” “ He must have been strong indeed.” “ Oh! he was. He could lift a thousand pounds with no more effort than it would re- quire of me to lift three hundred.” “ Wonderfuii Who was he?” “ Really, I have fargotten what they called him. But,_no matter.‘ This is a splendid place, is it not?” " It is elegant.” “And Mi~s Dearhuru—how beautiful she isl” “Yes she is beautiful indeed. Her lovely face will insure the success of the establish- meat.” “ No doubt of it. Have you been introduced to her?” ' “ Yes, and have been playing at the table with her. My game is there still, and I see the players are returning.” “ will go with you." “ Yes, come on, and I’ll introduce you.” , So, the excitement over for the time, the pla or: who had been engaged at the queen’s tab e returned to the r game. there was no vacant place, so there was no chance just then for Mr. Poke to yield to temptation. but Rainhard introduced hjm to the queen and he sat down where he could feast his eyes upon her loveliness if so inclined. Presently, however, the leaving of Judson Did you see him throw that ‘Pathfiuder made a vacancy, and the young Emilishman tookadvantage of it. - , ‘ He played. with no especial showi of skill, butdid not risk large amounts. H seemed to have more attention for the queenly dealer than for the game itself. \ “ You are. not a bold player, Mr. Poke,” the queen remarked. “ Not very, Miss Dearburn,” was the re~ spouse. “I-take it for granted that you are a Luisa.” ' “Yes. sir.” ‘ He might be excused for the question on the, ground that be was an Englishman, since they are held to be blunt and outspoken. It was a question to which many present were glad to hear the answer. I “ No. I am not a bold layer, not.understand- ing the game very well, at if my present luck continues, I may become bold.” “Do not play rashly, air, unless you are pre- pared to Lose.” _ So the woman cautioned him. . The game went on quietly, the young English- man winning oftsner than he lost, and so it con- arrow {tinned up ithe‘ interruption caused" by the m m; ' ' i ' ' i f.‘ After that excitement, the game at the queen’s | table was not resumed. Men stood about in groups discussing the situ- ation, as said, and only the less important game: were carried on. Suspicion had taken root, and for the time being there was a cloud over the Paris Salon. Many had declared, h0wever, their belief in the innocence of the pl'Opl‘IOttl‘ and their confidence in him. Shortly after the ending of the h'earingpin which the justice found no case, Queen Ethel retired from the salon. After her going, Mayor Millfleld, J 001 Spark- ers, Johnston Rainhard, Detective Penrsman and others, among them the young Englishman, talked the matter over. “ It was a mistake,“ of course,” DetectiVe Pearsman declared. “That is the way it looks now,”agreed Mill- field, “but I confess that at first I had a fear that the fellows were right. - I say a fear, be- Cuuse this RoyalJim seems such a fine follow that I would hate to see anything of that sort come of it. It would be impossible, though, for any one to pla such a role and keep his nerve as he did. 0, I agree with you, Pearsman, that Southway cannot le John Heathcote.” “And the fellows stand ashamed before the whole t0wn,” added Jeel Sparkors. “But. it serves them right, for it was only their greed for . the reward that made them so hasty." ” That was all.” “ Can you imagine the fellow would dare to como hack here again, after what has taken lace, acc< rding to the stories I hav'e heard of in)?” asked Johnston Reinhard, of Millfleld. “ Yes, I believe he would dare,” was the re- ply, “if he saw a ghost of a chance for getting V awa again.” . ' " ut, they tell me the camp 13 now policed.” “ So it is.’ “ Then, if he knows that, I do not think there IS any danger of his coming. I think he would be a fool to do so.” ‘ “ He is a Very daredevil, though. You must know that, if you have heard all of his doings here. He has robbed and murdered right and left." “ You are talking now of the highwaymau,” put in Pearsman. - “I am talking about John Heathcote,” was the retort. “ I hold that he and the outlaw are One.” “ I admit that Heatheote is outlawed, and that there is a price on his head, but I do not admit that he is the man who has been doing all these evils.” “ Have you proof to the contrary ?” H No.” “ Then your opinion has little weight with me. Kn0wing what I know of the scamp, I speak from positive knowledge. lieve there is any crime too great for John Heathcote.” . “ It will not do for you and me to argue on that point Mayor Millfleld.” “ Why not?" “ We are both too iositive.” “ I have grounds, sir, while on “ Let us say no more about t. since. we cannot agree.” “ You admit that he murdered Kinross, don’t on?" “ it would be to call you a perjurer not to be- lievo that, air. The law calls him guilty, and I would not dispute with the law.” “ Then. if guilty of that, why not of all the other crimes?” . “ No reason why not from your point of have none." It is better so, new.” H While from your own?" “From mine there may be good reasons. I will not discuss the matter further at this time.” Millfleld was somewhat flushed with rising anger, but the detective was cool and calm in manner. The others were looking on and listening to ,, the argument. Box :1] Jim joined them. “ Disputing over me!" he asked. J ‘1‘ N3, ’ answered Millfleld, “ but about Genteel 0 ill. ' “Then-’ on accept my statement that I am not that is low, and that I know nothing about him?” ' “ Yes, sir.” “ I am glad you do, for, on my word of honor, i am not the man. If I look like him that ism misfortune. I suppr so. But, let me have a litt s time and I’ll prove to the satisfaction of all who and what I am.” I ' Bis statement was accepted, since no one could dispmve it, and lines the met: who had brought the suspicion upon him could not support . their charge. CHAPTER XXVII. A BUSPICION SPOKEN OF. IT was on the following morning that detec- tive Pearsman found a se note awaiting him at the ofth of the hotel when he w down. - t .; 1:.l ‘. “ ' " 71-h. .r i 1"" ‘ ’, ..»¢”§.§g. «. ldo not be.' at, “a... r .3; 9, ,rit‘. A! A On opening it he Was somewhat surprised. The signature was that of Genteel John. “ Who left this note here for me?” he asked of the clerk. “ I don’t know,” was the reply. “ Don’t know?” “ No, sir.” “ And how is that?” “ Because I did not see who left it. I found it here on the desk, and that is all I know about it.’ “When did you find it?” “ This morning when 1 opened up.” “ Well, it is strange, that’s all.” “ Something to surprise you?" “Rather. Did Royal Jim spend the night here?" “ I suppose so. He Guess he is not up yet.” The detective went out to the piazza, where he read the note over again, and Several times. It was like this: “DETECTIVE Panama:— “Glad to know yin still helix-ye mo innocent. Do notbe deceived. Royal Jim and I are fardiiferr-nt elrsons. Hold no suspicion against him. lam not id 9. before ion . You need not search for me, for I think my lL entity is \i'ell'C'InCi‘alHl. Miss Cantrii is aware that I am here. She received a communica- tion from me last night. I am not the murderer and outlaw who is using my name, as I scazccly need assure you. is booked, anyhow. “Sincerer yours, ' “Joan HEATHCOTE." “This is remarkable,” the detective said to himself. “ Were this to fall into the hands of 1 Joyce, he wbuld take it as additional proof that Royal Jim is the man. ‘ Why? “ Because he is here at ther‘hotel, and the Wording of it might be construed as having only the one object of diverting suspicio from him. Yesbhe would take it as strong p f, while I do not. ' He was thoughtful. “ I will show this to Joyce,” he finally do. cided. “ That is, minus one little clause, which I will cut out now.” . Taking his knife, hecut out the two sentences referring to Miss Cantril, leaving all the rest of the note as it was. The piecescnt out he chewed to Xulp, that he might destroy them utterly. bout the time he had done that, Joyce up-’ peered. They greeted as usual, ' “ Well, what is the word?” Joyce asked. “ Genteel John is in town.” “ What 1” The calm statement had the effect of an ex- ploding bomb upon the unsuspecting Joyce. “ Just as I tell you.” . “ How do you know he is herci” “I have heard from him.” “ Well, is it Royal Jim?” “ Hardly.” “ Who?" . “ I don’t knOW.” “But, you said he had communicated with you.” “ And that is all." “ You have not seen him?” I“ No.” I “ n yen are no better on’ than you were he- . «- fore.” “ Except that I now know he is here. He may be a laborer in the mines, or a toamster, or anything like that. . There is 1 big popula- tion here, you are aware, and it is impossible to do with every man as Playfa‘ir and his partner did with Royal Jim last night.” “ What had he to say toyou?” “ I intend to tell on that, or I would not have told anything about it at all. Here is the note he left for me." ‘ With that he put the note into Joyce’s handsl V That detective read it with avidity, but look- edu with disappointment. * . “ You have out something out,” he said, “ Nothing that interferes with the reading as it is however.” H but something you did not want me to see.” “ Yes." . “Well, it was your. message. Do you know what I think about in" v . . “I want to know, and that is one reason why I have allowed you to see it. Let me have your opinion of it.” “I think it is proof further that Royal Jim and Genteel John are one and the same.” Pearsman smiled. 3, i y' “ Why do you think that?”- N Hard] .n k ‘f Well, it strikes me that this ice poor at- tempt”to divort attention from the gambling rt. 1REnhAnd you think he himself, bein Genteel John is the one who left it at the hote for me?” “ as. He could easily do it.” ' “I admit that; but, you are willi to admit 3 , that Genteel John has shown some a ility as a detective. I may any unusual ability." ‘ i “ Yes. with a purpoae, he has.” “Yes, with a purpose._ Very well. Being mething of a detective himself. is it likely that , he would do such a thing as this? He would know it would Only draw all the more attention upon him.” , “ Then you begin to believe as I do?” “Not a bit; I was only. taking your point of View for the moment." “ He has been foolish enough to think other— wise, anyhow, it seems.” “ Then you cast your vote with Playfair and Reynold, do you ?” “ I believe they were on the right track.” ‘.‘ And that Royal Jim and Genteel John are one.” “ How can 1 help believing it?” ~ “I don’t find it hard to think otherwise. This note is genuine,_Mr. Joyce, and it speaks the truth. Depend upon it. This is from the true Genteel John, and he is not Royal Jim, whoever else be me y be.” “ Your mind is fixed on that.” “ Firmly.” “ Maybe there was additional proof in these words which you have cut out.” [may put important clues into your hands * “ No; you have seen all that was worth see- 'n ." v “ Yet this other was worth cutting out.” “ Because it gave me a. clue which I would not , shore with you." 1 “A clue to what?” , “ Possibly to the identity of Genteel John in ; his present guise.” “ Hal no wonder you cut it out, then. Now, that is something definite. If you have some proof that this Royal Jim is not the outlaw, that alters the case.” “I have no proof of that. All I‘say is, that he is not John Heathcote. You must not lose sight of the fact that I hold that there are two Genteel Johns in the field now.” “ It is useless to talk with you, I see, since we -can never come to any agreement or understand- .— in .” , 5‘ Which is not my fault, Joyce,” laughing. “ I have been trying hard enough to convert you from the error of your way, you know.” ' “The blind trying to lead the blind.” “ Look at it that way if you please.” ‘ “ I am obliged to. By the way, you have not mepltzior’ipd this note to any one else, have you i” o. “ Do you intend to do so!” 6‘ 3 "Good. I will givs more attention to Royal Jim, while you are looking around on your new clue whatever it may be.” “ You are at liberty to make any use on see fit of the revelation I have made to you. nteel John is here. and if you can take him you will do well. As.- for me, I am not work g against him but for him.” ‘ ‘ “ In the face off the lava?” I d mm 1“ I? the face 0 men, r evi s, an eve ng e se. a “ You cannot surely mean to say that you be— lie’va him innocent altogether, do you?” “That is just what I «lo beheVe, Joyce.” “ The deuce] You can‘t mean it.’ “I swear I do.” , . “ Why, man, that is to say that Osmond Mill- ileld is nothing more or less than a vile perjurerl” \ , . “I, can’t help that; I have spoken my firm conviction.” ‘~‘ You are now." ‘ fl ' u ’ JOY” ’ . “ In spite of the difference between us, that our difference of opinion in regard to this case, more of a puzzle to me than ever, now. “Glad of your good opinion. I feared ou‘ thought me little better than an ass, at our act meeting.” ' . ' “That was talk." ' .“ So is this.” “ But, there is a diflerence. I am going to put you on yourgnard in one direction.” ‘ And what direction is that?" ' “ Do not let Mayor Millfield make a tool of bear in mind the suspicion I have whispered in your ears Otcourse yen will not repeat that. “ Certainly not; but it is hard to understand. Why, think of his reputation, of his standing—” “And you, think of what I have said- and beware. 0 more now; we are interrupted. Here comes your suspected man.” .. ‘ CHAPTER XXVIII. ‘ 1 BY THE swam BAND. \ r , 11' was on that same morning that there was surprise in the Lyndon cottage. ' ‘ The colonel was the first of the family to'rise, and when he meat down, one of the servants handed him a sealed note. i “ Where did you’get this?” the colonel asked. “ It was on the piazza when I opened the door, sir,” was the response. ' . . who left it there?” “ And on are not aware “bitty damp. ‘ It has probably been there all H No. 8 r." \ still acknowledge that you are a detective of no . : .mean’ability and as such I am talking to you you: that is the point. Look out for him, and , The colonel went into the library. He thought he recognized the hand, and did not want to open the missive in the presence of any one. It was, he believed, frcm Genteel John. And he was not mistaken. On tearing it open he read: “MY Iirs'r or Fair-:Niisz— , “I am again here at Daisy Drift. I am making rogrr ss. l‘Jre long the mystery will be cleared. or the present 1 must remain unknown to you. You may show this to Jackson. I write more especially to advisH you not to close your (foal with Mr. Pathfinder, for awhile. Wait till you hear from me again. You can put it off. and at 'he same time (lo-lain him with 3 on. Be blind to his faults. Do not let him know of this note from me. “ Yours in secret, " Jens.” colonel questioned. “ He tells me to slay clos- ing with Pathfinder. Why? It puzzles me. And I am to be blind to his faults. Well, he has faults, that is true, for he is not like he used to be some years ago.” \ He paced the floor with the note in his hand. Busy with his thoughts, the time passed quick- ly, and the rest of the household were astir be- fore be reused out of his reverie. And then it was the entrance of Jackson that brought him out of his deep day-dream. “ W bath the matter, father ?” the young man asked. “ Close the door, Jack,” was the response. “ I have something to show you. The son obeyed, and stepped forward. “ What is it?” . é “ This letter.” " Where did you get it?” , “ Susan found it on the piazza this morning." “ Who is the writer? Is it anonymous?” « “No; it’s from John.” “ FrOm John?” The young man had taken the note from his father’s hand, and he now opened it with eager haste. “ So John is here!” he exclaimed. “Yes, he is here.” “ And you do net know in what guise?” “ I do pot." ‘ . ' " Can it be possible that he and the gambler -sport are one, as so may seem to suspect?” “ I have been trying to study that out. I think not. I have been over the entire village, in mind, and I cannot fix upon a single person upon whom my suspicions will fasten. “ Perhaps he is one of these detectives, playing that role in order to escape attention.” “ I think not.” a it Why gii . . ‘" There are no strangers among them.” “ They are all strangers to us.” i “ In one smsc, so they are; but, they were all here when John was last seen here.” i “ That is so, come to think of it.” ‘ And i there are no new faces at the mines, nor can I think of one anywhere towhoin sue— picion will cling.” “Have you thought of that stranger at the hotel?" - " Which one?” “ Johnston Reinhard.” “ What is the meaning of this, I wotiider?” the . “Yes; but it is impossible he can be our : John.” > , “Why?” I V , “ No mortal man could take on a disguise that gold change so completely his eyefychmm (Z . I “Not even Genteel John!" “ Not eyen him.” , 1 “ But, Pearsman has said of him that he is a ‘ great detective, and he ought to be a judge.” , “ Nut great enough for that, however. Why, this man's facets not the same in generalcou-J tour. There is a difference'not to be mistaken.” “ Well, I cannot argue against your view, tori ‘ there is little to argue from. But, if not that man then you name one.” “ That, I have told you, I cannot do.” “.And we may as well give it up. than.” , . ‘ “ I think so. He will reveal himself tunnel!“ in good time. It will \be of no use to try to dis- cover his identity. for he is pinyin to decay. I the detectives, and he would certain y bsflIe our search.” . H .3 “ Then, it is i 0t necrssary that {e should know in i ' “True. l-did (ix-late whether it could he and the your: Englishman were one and the same, but I (led ed against it.” _ ‘_ “. Certainly. J Thstfls even a wilder (my own. As you have said about. Reinhard. W moi-tel could make such a change in‘hls appear? once and mldetectionso w if“ r . . . ., ’I _r I’4 o In “You are right. Then, there is his which we have seen." ‘ -. ',“That‘s so. I had forgotten that. It rem his initials,w is stamped all over withtshs‘ which attest foreign mul. could not, be any counterfeiting that." , ' “No; the wt likely person is this tfis whom meow-nus ,and he is at em‘ timethemonhnllk . .But,letltpam. Whit- ‘11 was that way. when lion“ in," ‘ “I think it has been there some time. air. It . do you think of who. 'he has to say aboutonr guest from Chicach , ' , . , . «xi amtrying tothink what to think, if you suspect: Sport . of i3 $37., 4»: Wm _ can understand any such paradoxical lingo as I He must‘ have some good reason i robber cannot use them, can he?” that, father. for what he advises.” “ Then your papers must be found. But,vthe “ He can if he can get them off his hands he- “ We know John well enough to believe i foreI give the alarm, by simply forging my that.” “ And this note is a puzzle as Well as a sur- ‘prise. There is only one thing we can do.” “ And that is—” “ To wait and see what will come of it all.” name to them.” ".Hal then if they are not signed the case is not so bad. it is not likely a robber dould succ¢ls~fully imitate your signature, is it?” “ Maybe not. but I do not feel safe with those “ Perhaps John will See fit to reveal himself to . papvrs out of my hands.” us soon,” the colonel observed. “Perhaps,” agreed the son, “and yet it is' hardly probable that he will take the risk, either. To be discovered would be toruin his plans." “ That’s so, for, proscribed and hounded as he is, he coulil no nothingobut fly for his life. If they capture him before he gets evidence to clear himself, he will shrely hang.” . “ And innocently.” “ Yes, innocently; for we know John Heath- cote is no murderer.” ‘,‘ Wauld that we had some means of proving Millfleld false, as he certainly is if our conii- dehce John is not misplacmi." ' "That will come, he sure of it. John’s first . move was enough to prove him guiltless. A guilty man Would have seized the opportunity to make good h‘s escape out of the country.” “I agree with on,” said Jackson. “There is deep mystery' ere, father, and I am eager to see it cleared away. Poor John! he has suf- fered.” “We well know that, by our own suffering. Poor Nydia l” They bowed their heads in silence. “By the way, father,” Jackson next spoke, " have you ever been able to learn who the woman was who helped John to escape?” “Never.” . “ That was not the least mysterious thing about the case.” I “Not by any means. The belief is that it was tile person who killed Kinross, or who had some knowledge of it.” “‘And who would not see an innocent per- son hang for the crime.” - “ Perhaps that; though there might have been some othersconsideration as, well to lead to the result.” ' “ However that might be, the result was favorable to J ohn.” ‘ “ Yes,” a eed the colonel. “ And yet, it would have a better for him could the other plan have been successful first.” ‘4 r, I “Because, as we havo seen before, it places him under some obligation to the woman, and if he finds she is the guilty one, he will not feel like dragging h'er'to the gallows since she risked herself to save him.” " That is so, but he cannot let that stand in the way of clearing himself of the crime. The guilty one ought to suffer.” , “Then, too, John has only the one motive that of clearing himself. He has no thought of seeking to avenge the death of his hated step- father. He would be more than human to care anything for that.” “ He certainly would.” It was while they were talking that Mrs. Lyn- don entered in an excited way. “ Mark,” she addressed the colonel, “ Mr. Pathfinder has been robbed.” “ What?” ' \ The question came from father and son to- gathers '"Yes, robbed. But, here he comes himself, and on will hear it from his own lips.” . “ t seems impossible,” cried the est, as be rushed into the room, paleand excl . “Never- theless, it is the fact. My bill-book, with money andfiapcrs, is gone. I can’t understand it.” “ as your room, been entered?” asked the colonel. - ‘ “ 1 can’t explain it in any other way. The window was open, you know. ’ “This is strange. It is the first time anything of the sort has happened in this place. Let’s go up there and look about.” . They went lmmedlatel to the room of their. guest, where he explain where he had put his » valuables on retiring, and it seemed plain if they had been taken from that room, the robber had entered byths window. ‘ —— O , ' CHAPTER XXIX. ._ ANOTHER AND'SIHILAR casu. 11‘ did not take long to convince the colonel and his'scn that they were not like] to make an headway with this mystery and ed. ‘ eir gtaest had cutting; been rel'igved of his moue an papers,“ 9 open ndow su - - goats! the means by which the robber hagd med entrance; but that was all rmine. ' “Suppose we call in Poarsman,” suggested Jackson. , ‘ “ A good idea,” the colonel agreed. . “ Capital i” cried the nest. “My pom must be recovered if pass is, or I am in a situation.” “ Were they very valuablel” mggfiame prepared to close the deal for the they could “ Of coursu not. Well, we’ll call Pearsman.” The detective was Sent for. “ You want me here, gentlemen?” he asked, when he entered the cottage. He oust a sweeping glance about him, as if to' try to read what was wanted of him before it was made known. ' “ Yes, we want you,” answered the colonel. “ We have a case for you.” ' \ “ A case?” , “ Yes.” The colonel then stated briefly what was re- quired. “ Let me see the room," the detective request- They repaired to the room once more, and Pathfinder told his story again. . “ The stage is gone,” mused the detective. “ I was on hand when it left, however, and I can I am inclined to believe the robber is still here in the camp.” ' “Then can you find him?” asked the victim, eagerly. “‘It maypuzzle mo considerably. You see, he has left no clue.” him. “ Not likely. These rewards do not bring a rtébber back again when he has once got so ely o . “ I’ll'promise he won’t be detained, if he will only givo up the pore. He may keep the money, only a map 6 of hundred or so.” “That is an old bait. It won’t work.” “ Yet the robber may be a green hand, and ma fall into it.” . ‘ ‘ Nothing of the sort here. Whoever it was took your money and papers knew what he was about. But on are doublv sure you had the pocketbook w en you retired?” “ I am. -I had it out at the Paris Salon, and returned it to my inside pocket, where I always carry it. When I retired I opened it again to make sure everything was all right.” “And then you bung "your vest there in the closet,,the pocketbook in it, eh?:’ ‘ “ Yes, and I can swear to it.” “ Well, your word is positive enough on that point, and it follmts that our money was taken from you in this room. nd the ,window shows how.’ “ Yes, it seems plain enough.” “ But it is not so plain who the robber was.” “ That’s so.” ‘ “ Now, there were, at first, twoways for you to deal with this thing.” ' ~ “ And what were they i” “ First, to say nothing about it, but wait and watch for chance to indicate a suspicion against some one.” “ And the other?” “ Post a reward and work the case openly.” “ And wh are not these two ways open yet!” asked the co one]. Y . g “ Because, if the robber is still here, as I sus- ‘pect, he has seen'me come here and will know what I have come for. And the more certainly if he saw that a servant came for me." “ Then it is narrowed to the last Ian." “ Yes' but, that may be work with a little skill. You tell me your watch and other valu— ables have not be u disturbed.” “ Nothing but 9 pocketbook.” “ Then you will'word the placard like this: ‘ A suitah e reward will be given for the return of the 'watch and chain stolen from me last night, and no questions asked.’ And to that you wi 1 sign our name.” “ But, want." “ Put your watch out of sight, and say noth— ing about the pocketbook. The man who took that knows you have lost it. It will puzzle him to know how your watch was taken, for he must have noticed that it was in your vest when he took the pocketbook.” “ That’s so, by Geor e!” , “ But, what and wi that serve?” asked Jack Lyndon? . - “ I may be able to detect the thief by watching those who observe the poster.” , “ Ha I sea.” ’ “ And is that all that can be done!” asked the colonel. . “No, not quite. We, can post-a few trusted ones, on the sly, to have an eye out for the pocketbook.” . . ' “ Describe the article, Mr. Pathfinder." “ Well, it was an old pocketbook, had] worn ,at the corners, and marked on the insi 6 with K two big initially—J. and P.” - “The same old pocketbook you used tocarryi” queried the colonel. “ Yea the some old one, Mark.” a \ I have my watch; it’s the papers I find no suspicion against any of the passengers. 1 “ lint I’ll post a reward, and that may bring ' , mon between r. “ Then it must he an aged affair by this time, I should say.” “ And it is.” The detective gathered what further points he could and twk his leave, while the family turned their attention to breakfast. Pearsman returned to the hotel. There he was met by J( yce, on the piazza. They greeted as usual, when Joyce said: “Well, here’s another mystery, Pearsman.” “ antls that?“ Z ~ The Gowrinwnt Detective did not see how Joyce could have Leard about the matter at the Lyndon cottage, yet he was in doubt when he heard the answer to his question. ” Robbery,” the answer was. “ Where?” ” Here.” “ In the hotel?” “ Exactly; though it does not show that it has been the work of Genteel John this time” “ \Vho‘s the victim?” “iMrs. Reinhard.” “ What's missing!” “ Money and papers, she claims.” “ Any clue?” to N0.” I’emsman “as thoughtful for a moment. ’ s Could it be that the same person had commit- ted both robberies? o it had that appearance, certainly. The some articles had been taken in both instances. “ Anything else taken l” he asked. “ 0; not even watch and jewelry, which lay in open sight.” ' .Here, again, the cases Were similar. IVhy had these two persqhs alone been the only view tims selected? . Could it be that there Was something in com- Mrs. Reinhard and Mr. Path- finder! They both claimed to be from Chicago. if so, then had not the thief some especan object in view when he robbed them of papers? It did look that Way, and there mi ht be some~ thing in it. He did not mention t e other case to Joyce. “ Well, what do you think of it!” J cyce asked impatiently. . “ Why, t wouldlook as if there was an es- pecial object in taking the papers. Did she tell you what they were?” ‘ “Only in a general way. You look at it the same as I do. But, there is no clue, not the slightest. I am at loss where to look.” ~ ' ‘- What are you going to do?” " I am to remain out of si ht, as it were, and the woman will have the lan lord post a reward for the recovery of the papers.” “ And you will 100k. out in a general way for somebody to suspect, eh i” “ Yes. ’ . “ That plan may work. You do not think this has been the doings of Genteel John, do “ I‘Io.” u Why 1” “ Well, because the game is too small, for one thin -— “ That is it, exactly. I am glad we agree upon one int, at any rate, Joyce. _ “ es, there is some satisfaction in that, sure enough. i wish' we could only agree upon other points as well. But, here is a thought for ) ou. “ Let’s have it.” “Do you imagine that this robbery has any- thin to do with thefact that Genteel John was here sat night, as his note to you proves?” “ It may'and it may not. on it that John Heathcote is not the robber, thou b.” “ ut Genteel John may have been?” “John the False, yea.” \. ' “Yes; but you just a reed with me that the h game was too small for h m.” V - “ He may have had some pressing reason for wanting to get hold of papers the woman had in her possession.” “And that is to intimate that Mrs. Rainhard may not be just what she seems, I take it.” v “ It is possible that she may be anything else. Since you are interested in her case, you have a chance for looking around, and if'there is a skele~ ton anywhere, drag it out.” ' “ There are a good many skeletons around Pearsman. This case seems to be unusuall full of thgm. The only trouble is, they are in sibl'e ones. “ They will appear when John Heathoote has completed his work.” CHAPTER XXX. roan morass AND DUTIFUL son. I WHEN two offers of reward'appeared about the same time, for thefts, the curiosity of Daisy Drift was aroused. There was much comment'as to who the rob- ber could have been and many were of the opinion that Genteel John was around in. There were man others, however, w 0 took the opposite view, inking it impossible, since the outlaw would never bother with game so, very small. . Besides these two classes, was the very, .- H You can depend ‘ "r “We wam‘ _ The Suspect Sport of Daisy Drift. '7 1 R wary small majority who were firmly of the -opinion that Genteel John had had nothi to do with it, even if it had been done by his ou- ble, or the fellow who was passing under his name. These, of course, meant John Heathcote, and were his friends. In the case of Mrs. Reinhard there was some- . thing peculiar, something which she did not \ I make known to her detective. Shortly after the reward had been posted her son visited her room. He had been requested to do so. ‘6 What’s this I hear?" he greeted. “ That you have been robbed l" « “ You need not pretend that you know nothin about it,” was the cool response. “Just hang over those papers." “ Heavens! you don’t think I robbed you!" “ 1 know you did.” “Ha, ha, hal Well, you know more than I know myself, then, that is all.” “ You have seen me have considerable of money in my possession, and last evening you learned” by accident where I kept it and my ‘ pa ers. I he son looked at the mother with wonder ex- pressed upon his face. “ I beg our pardon " he said, “ but I learned nothing 0 the kind. I was at the Paris Salon last evening, as you know.” The woman gave a sarcastic sneer. “ What does your Word amount to?" she de- manded. \ “ On my word of honor—” “Ha, ha, be! That istoo good! Ha, ha, ha! thy, what honor is there ina man like you?” “ Well, 1 can’t convince you that way, but I’ll swear that you are mistaken as to my learn- ing anythin about the biding- lace .of your le. Bee des, I didn’t see you t m ht.” “ You are a fool, or you take me or one, which is it?” ‘ “ Neither.” ~ “ It is one or the other and I think the latter. But, you are mistaken it that is your estimate of me. Perhaps you will tell me you were not here in this room at half-past ten, and that you did not receive some money from me for—" “I do say so,” the man interrupted. “ What cursed mystery is here,. anyhow? I have re. ceived no money from you." “ You lie.” “ That is right to the point, but you are mis- taken this time. I do not lie; I swear it." “Of what value is your oath?” “Such as it is, I offer it. I can’t do ‘any better.” “ You are tryin to play double with me. \Vhat is the use? on’t you supposel know when I see yo and when I do not?’ “ You ought to, but if you say I was here last night at ten-thirty, you are a good deal off. You have dreamed it. I was not here, and that is all there is about it.” . “ Fool! To think you can make me believe that. Again I demand what you have stolen from me. If you do not surrender it instantly I will-4’ “ No you won’t, either. No threats, now, if you lease.” " ou are only trying to make me pay you a second time.” “I have not been paid for the first time, yet." “ Fool! Did you not sit right here,” indi- cating- “ and did I not ,take money from my packet k. out of that drawer there, and pay you one hundred dollars?” “ You did not.” “ Curse you! I say I did!” “ I might return your accusation u n you, ' and say you are trying to deal doublew th me to . you I‘thd cheat me out of what is due me.” The woman was wild with re 9., "And not satisfied with that,’ shecried, “you .came back here and robbed me of all.” \ “ Did you see me do that, too?" “ No; but it could have been no one else.” "ch11, it‘certainly was some one else, for I did not do it.” The manner of the man was so very earnest that the Woman stood before him and looked steadll into his eyes. _ He s the test. “ Are you speaking the truth?” she demanded. “ By Satan and his imps,oyes. . It would be of mine for me to swear by anything higher.” “ You scarcely know anything higher. No matter about that, however. Now, if it was not you who came here, who was it?" “ How should I know?” “ Whoever it was, that u had on your clotthes, and was the very counterpart of your- se . " Then it must have been my ghost. When I came over from the Paris Salon I went at once to my room, and was not out of it again till this morning. This is the truth. It is all I can say.” “ Do you ever walk in your sleep?” hummer caught mysel at any such tricks as .t . " You must have done so last night. I can re- peat some of your talk to me.” “ I’d like to hear it." “Well, you asked me what luck, and I told ad none yet. You said you had been on the lookout all the time. Then you asked me for a hundred. saying you needed it. I gave it to you, and aftera ew words more you went out. ’ “ It’s all news to me, anyhow.” “ I cannot understand it.” “Nor can I.” Both were silent for a time. “By the way," the woman spoke next, “ I have news for you." ‘And what is that?" ‘ “ Genteel John is here in town.” ” Hui how do you ha pen to know that?” “No matter how. It i; news to you, then?” H Yes." “ It is true, and I have seen proof of it. I can- not tell you what the proof is just yet, but you may take my word for it.” ‘ I don‘t know about taking your word for anything, now.” “rYVhyl HaVe you not found it reliable, so far “ Yes; but when you tell me to my face that I was here last night, when I know well enou h I was not, that is enough to make me doubt i ” “ And I do tell you you were here, you or your ghost, or—-” ‘ “ Or, what?” demanded the son. “ Do you think it possible that it can have been a trick of Genth John’s i” “ It was a trick of some sort, that is sure. And, since you ask me this it proves that you are not so positively certain as you were about it. “It is your persistent denial that makes me doubt, even though 1 ‘am so sure it was you and no one else.” “ Is it not just possible you were dreaming!” “ Pah! no.” “ Well, I give it u . And now for your ques- tion. And as for its being a trick of Genteel John’s, I don’t see how he could impersonate me close enough for you to deceived. I had rather believe,you had dreamed it, or that I had begun to walk in my sleep, as you suggested.", The door opened just then. It was Frances Cautril who entered the room. She stopped short at the sight of Johnston Reinhard, and restrained the words she had all but uttered. “ Your pardon, Mrs. Reinhard ” she said; “ I thought you were all alone, or I would have knocked.” The mother and son both laughed. “ My dear son and I are as one,” the woman hastened to say. i “ Do not mind him,’ but come in at any time when the door is open. “ But, it was not 0 n.” “ It was not locke , that was what I meant.” “ And when I find it locked, then I am to stay out, eh i” “ That would be a gentle hint, I should think,” spoke up the son. “Well, I will accept it asa hint. But, Mrs. Reinhard, I have just heard you were robbed last night. Is it true?” She was assured on the point, and the particulars were told. " How remarkable l" the young woman ex- claimed. “ But you surely must havo been dreaming, Mrs. inhard, for what earthly ob- Ject cbuld your 'own son have in robbing you? '1 hat is ridiculous, surely.” - ‘ “ It puzzles me, Miss Cantril.” . “ Well, have you heard that Mr. Lyndon was robbed last night, too?" “ Mr. Lyndonl’ 5 ‘ “ Well, rather his guest, Mr. Pathfinder. Yes, there is a notice up, saying he was robbed of his watch and chain.” ‘ The woman looked at her son. “ You did not tell me about this," she said. “That is so, for it was knocked 'out of me when you accused me as you did. I meant to tell on.” I ' “ erhaps you had a hand in that, even if you did not commit the theft here." “ No, I had not. What a sweet opinion, you ham or your son!” _ “Very, indeed, I should think,” added Miss Cantril. All three laughed. “ What do you know about what is thought of that other theft, then i" ‘ “ Nothing.” answered the son. I “ They are Very reticent about it," added Miss' Cantril. ‘ ' .. There was some further talk, of he very in- teresting moment, when the young woman took her leave again. t was the that. mother and son entered up- on a diseu on of some length and considerable importance. Both were earnest, and each was determined. 1 “ We understand each other. then,” said the ninther in conclusion. “ We have reason to be- lieve we have been overreachel by Genteel John. We must find him out. and then his life must pay for it all. Do well your part, and your re- ward is sure.”' ' ». “ You need have no fear on my account, adored mother,” was the response. sunfish—XXIII. 'rna wauxmo SOUNDED. THE Mayor of busy Unit «as a little later than usual at his allies on this morning of which we write. , He was interested in the robberies which had taken place, and had been talking with different individuals concerning them. His man Sparkers was with him. “ It is something mysterious,,to say the least,” the mayor growled. “ There must be another thief in town, I should say,” Sparkers offered in the way of ex- planation. “ There is one person too many in town, and that one is Genteel J ohn.” “ I agree with you there, boss.” “And it will not be gOod for his health if we find him out, you can just put that down for a . act. “ I have ot it down, hard and fast.” “ We wil? make him sick. But, the deuce of it is who is be? What guise is he in?" “ That is the puzzle.” . “ It seems strange that none of the boys are able to get onto him.” “ He is all that Pearsman has said of him as a detective. and maybe a good deal more besides.” Both were silent, having reached the oifice door. “ I’ll tell you what it is, Joel,” and the mayor paused with the he in his hand. “ I begin to have some fear of t is fellow. If we don’t dump him he is going to dump us.” “ He won’t dump me, you can bet on that.” it Why?» “ Because, if it comes to a pinch and I find I’m on the dump, I’ll light out. “ That might be easy for you, but not for me. My interests tie me right here, you see. And so do yourséntoo.” “ Your hundred a week is here.” .“ Oh! that could be sent to me just as well.” “ Not by a big sight. If you want the honey you have got to take your share of the stings.” “ Well, we’re crossin’ the bridge ’fore We come to it, this way. We’ll try to get in our lick first, and that will tell the tale.” “ Nothing else will tell the tale, as you express it, either." The mayor opened the door, now, and they went in. . As they entered. the mayor stooped and picked up something from the floor, uttering an ex- clamation as he did so. “ What is it?” asked Sparkers. , “ A letter, I go, and it has been put in un- der the door." The mayor took his seat at the desk and pro- ceeded to Open the missive at once, for it was addressed to him. i He had already suspected what it meant, for he had recognized the handwriting, as the same as that of a letter which he had received from Denver, which has been shown in a preceding chapter. As he read the letter his face paled. “ Who’s it from?" asked Sparkers. " From Genteel J ohn.” “ Then he is here; sure enough.” it Yes." “ What‘s he i” “ Give attention and I’ll read it to you.” “ Let ’er g0.” . The mayor read aloud in a low tone as fol- lows: “ Parmesan Minimum—— "Xetaiiule longer, and the blow fails. I have not forgotten you. Your false th came near cost» , ing me my life. and you shells er for it. I am here near you, and there can be no escape for you. Do not try it, neither you nor your tool, S arkers. You are under watch. night and, day. ot only do I avenge your perjury, but the death of my wife as well, for only for §ou she would now be alive and well. 1 ours with undying hatred. “ JOHN Rumours. ” “ Whew!” whistled Sparkers. “ Pretty strong. isn’t it?" “ I should say so.” . “ And what is going to be done?" ' " What can be done, if we can't find the cues!" , “ That’s the question.” Both were thoughtful, and a good deal trou- bled over the matter. a That there was danger for them they well - knew, yet they knew not how to guard against ' t. . “ We can’t do anythi I but wait for him to show his hand,” declared parkers. * ‘ “ And he dare not' do that, yet. Thismay‘ba --, . only a bind! game, Sparkers, and only tawdry L . _ : x - “ Wants us to do somethin’ that will'give him a hold upon us, eh, mayor!” , “ That’s it.” - . , , , “ Well, if he holds his hand in his ket till ‘ v I we do that, it will grow fast there, ’m think. v in .” _ fiYouare htitwill. But, is there nowa‘ wecan findou whoheigand do himupl e. are not safe while he is out of jail.” . ‘ “ I don't know how to go to work at all.” “ We have been on the watch all the time, it’s true. and I'll be hanged if we have found any one to suspect since that letter came from Dm- ver. That fellow is the deuce.” '25 . 26 LThe Suspect Sport of Daisy Drift. “ You forget Royal Jim.” “ No, I don’t." “ But you have given him up eh?" “Yes, I have made up my mind that he is not the man.” Again they were thoughtful. “ ell, mayor, what is going to be done?” Sparkers asked. “ I’ll tell you, Joel.” “ Well?” “ We must stand our ground and fight it out.” “ Sure.” “For if we run away that will show a weak hand. Besides, We are warned not to try it. He ma)i have men to shoot us down.” ‘ It’s pleasant to think of, I’ll be hanged if it isn’t.” “ And the thin we must do,” the mayor , went on, “is to ma 6 our position as Secure as possible. We’ll post some of the men, those we can best trust, and have them on the watch all the time." “ They are watching now.” " You don’t quite understnd me.” “ Maybe I don’t.” “I mean, they must act as a sort of body- guard to me." “ Oh! I see.” “ And then it won’t be so easy for Genteel John to get at me, you see.” “ I see; but where do I come in?” “You? you’ll be one of the guard, of course." “ That is to say, you are the one to be pro- tected, while I must take the chances, eh?” ” It will be the same for you as for me.” “ In your mind.” “ Well, whether it will or not, you are inter— ested in my welfare to the amount of a bun- dred a week, and that ought to be worth some. thin to you.” “ e won’t quarrel about it.” They talked on, arranging their plans, which we need not dwell upon, till at length they were interrupted by the entrance of the two detectives, Playfai r and Raynold. “ Well, what word do you bring?” asked the mayor. Both answered together: “ We have had a surprise.” “ What was it?” “ Communications from Genteel John.” “ The deuce!” “That is what he is," declared Raynold. “ What had he to say to you?” “ Tells us to set our minds at rest regarding Royal J im.” ‘ That he is not the man, eh?” “ Exactlrv.” “ Well, have just heard from him, too. He is defiant, and threatens all sorts of dire calami- ties to me and the town.” “ And what is your opinion about it?” “ He seems to mean business." “I mean about his not being Royal Jim.” “ Why, I think we made a mistake there. I am inclined to accept his word, as I have just told Sparkers here.” - “ Yet it is plain that he is here in the town, or was here during the night, at any rate.” “There is no doubting it.” “ And you say he threatens?” “ Terribly. He threatens robber , murder, and everything else that is evil. go undoubt- edly has a big f0110wing to back him up.” “ You think so?” “ Did not his robbery of the Express wagon provs it?” “ Yes; but it did not seem likely that he would Venture here again with his band, when so many traps have been laid to catch him.” “I cannot say, of course, but he is a desperate man and a darin one. He is not the man to stop at anything. 9 is an outlaw of the worst sort, and all this talk about his innocence is both i” “ Oh! we believe that fast enough.” “ It has been proved against him in a way that ought to satisfy any one, and the man who can think any other way is a fool. Why, to do so is the same as callin me a perjurer. 1 think I could make some of t em sweat for it, if I had a mind to take it u .” ‘ “ Why don’t you?" “ I question whether it would be worth while tonotiee them. The truth will come out some day, and then they will hang their heads.” CHAPTER XXXIL a wannrNG IN rm: SALON. Tun: passed. In spite of his warnings, Genteel John did not act. The detectivss were at loss to account for his silence and inactivity, for they had expected him to move immediately. Nor could they find out who he was. They had now searched 'the camp over and over again, and were sitive that there was not a suspected man with n its borders. Strangers arrived from time to time, but they were quickly noted and a decision rendered re- specting them. Royal Jim had brought evidence, by this time, ‘ to prove who and what he was, and such proofs as were not to be doubted. Who, then, could be Genteel John? It came to be believed at last that he was not in the place at all, and that perhaps he had not been there. It was known that he had some friends there and it was thought that maybe one of these had been acting for him. Be that as it might, John himself did not ap- pear. And it was the boast of Mayor Millfield and others that he would never dare to show his face there again. Many weeks had now slipped by, and the ex- citement of past events was all over, and the village camp was going on in its easy and pros- perous way. A retros tive glance is necessary 'ust here. Neither r. Judson Pathfinder nor rs. Rain- hard had heard anything of the articles that had been stolen from their rooms on that night, as has been told in full. Their offer of rewards was of no use. It brought them nothing. These two were still there, the one at the Lyn- don cottage and the other at the hotel with her son. Miss Cantril, too, was yet in the village as was also the young Englishman whom she had made the effort to win. Since their last lengthy interview they had been little to each other. Beginning with the ncxt day, Miss Cantril had given Mr. Poke the cold shoulder, and he had taken it without a murmur. She had, hOWever. acted upon his advice, and gad pushed her acquaintance with Mr. Path- nder. Of that we have more to say. The Lyndons wcre still at their cottage, al- though, had it not been for the note the colonel had received from Genteel John, he would ere this have closed with Mr. Pathfinder and moved away. 1 Daisy Drift was not What it had been to the family, since the death of the still deeply mourn- ed daughter. Pathfinder was still therc, as said, but his pres- ence had become almost unbearable. The colonel often declared that he was not the Pathfinder he had once known him. He had changed, and for t‘ e worse. His tastes had be- COme vulgar, and, had it not been for the request John Heathcote had made, he would ere this have been sh0wn that he was welcome no longer. Mayor Millfield had dismissed the body-guard which, for some time, he had had with him con- stantly. He expressed the belief that Genteel John had disappeared for good and all, and that it was folly to pay further heed to the threats he had made. Some of the detectives had grown weary, and had taken their leave. Pearsmnn and JoyCe, however, still held on, the latter only because the former did, however. Reynold and Playfair were among those who had departed. Since their mistake in arresting Royal Jim, the town had not been a pleasant abiding-place for them, and, after standing it as long as they could, they had left. The Paris Salon was still flourishing. _ I It had token root right at the start, and had grown in favor immensely. Queen Ethel was the chief attraction, of course, and it being now known that she was heart and fancy free many were her admirers. Gore. the Giant, had returned just once to get even with Royal Jim, but he had not made an- other attempt. The ambler sport had attended to him so thorough y on that occasion that he was more than satisfied. Only a hog would want more, the giant had declared. Among the admirers of the queean Ethel were Johnston Reinhard and E, Garnet Poke. These had come to be something of rivals, though to this time there had been no outbreak between them. They were frequently at her table, where the vied with each other far her favor. At suc times, however, she showed no more favor to one player than to another. Not only had the Paris Salon become popular with the male portion of the people, but with the female as well. Ladies train the hotel were present at the games every evening. The best of order was maintained, and the ladce was noted for the respectable character it a . Among the attendants of this sort were Miss Cantril and Mrs. Reinhard. They were there frequently, and not in- frequently they played. The plaee provided good music, and that, the memen declared, was the attraction which drew t em. But, in the case of Frances Cantril, it was whispered that she was there because there she mat in uently found Mr. Pathfinder. And 0 these two, as said before, we have more to say. Daisy Drift was in something of a suppressed excitement of expectancy, owing to the au- nouncement of a wedding. ‘i, I, _ 'i». And that wedding was to be that of Miss Cantril to Pathfinder. The young adventuress had played well her- hand, and had won. The ambition of her life was about to be realised, and that was, marriage to a rich man. The preparations had all been quiet] made, and there was to be nothing of the disp 3’ that had been made on the occasion of her other wedding there at Daisy Drift. That was not to be imitated. The only extra plan that had been laid was that the marriage was to take place in the Paris Salon. This was done to give everybody a chance to be present, since this was the largest room in the camp by long odds. The local newspaper had been the first to make the news public, and while it congratulated both the bride and the groom, it offered a hope: that this union might be happier in its results than the other l ad been. The evening of the wedding was now at hand. On that morning Pathfinder had taken leave- of the Lyndon cottage. The cloud that had been hovering there had not broken, quite, but it had lowered till its chilling influence had become unbearable. The marriage could not he s ken Well of by the Lyndons, owifig to the unp easant story that had been told of iss Cantril by Genteel John. To her, since they had to believe that story, they . laid the loss of their daughter. They, of course, would not attend the wed~ ding, nor could their guest hope to introduce , his bride to them. Hence, one reason, the separation. The wedding was to take place early in the evening, when the bride and groom would re- ceive their friends for an hour at the salon. Pathfinder had become in a way popular at the camp, and as Miss Cantril had lived down the story concerning herself, the wedding was an affair of no mean importance in the village- cam ). This hour set found the Paris Salon well filled. The dais usually occupied by Queen Ethel was. to be the place occupied b the happy couple. Miss Cantril regretted t at her mother could not be present, but she had corresponded with her, she said, and had her approval and blessing upon her choice. in the absence of her mother, Mrs. Reinhard had taken upon herself the office of chaperon. There had been some difficulty at first about procuring a minister to perform the ceremony. Daisy Drift had now two resident preachers, but both of these had refused to perform the ' service, owin to the fact that it was to take place in the so on. This was a place they would in no wise coun- tenaiice. The diificulty had been Overcome, though, by engaging Justice Russet for the occasion. Queen Ethel had consented to act as bride’s» maid, while Johnston Reinhard had succeeded in gaining the post of honor as best man. This wasowing to the fact, it was believed, that the young Englishman had been too [low and had allowed the chance to slip through his fingers. I Promptly at the time appomted, the bridal party filed into the salon and advanced to t'i-o diiis at the rear to the tune of a wedding march played by the pianist and other musicians. When the had reached their places the music stopped, an at once the justice performed his part and soon pronounced the two man and wife. Then followed the congratulations. The party retained their places on the dais, and the crowd pressed forward to shake hands with them. With the crowd was one personage who soon began to attract attention by the peculiarity of his attire, which looked more like a stage co;— tume. . There was, first, a black hat of unusual width of brim, then a broad, black cape; and unci r that a black coat that reached nearly to the floor. He was, altogether, a peculiar man. Little of his face was to be seen, and the most prominent thing about it was a great mustache, waxed and stiff, and standing out for Seven-l inches on each side. This added even more to his sta e a earance. - By theytidig he had reached the front, many eyes were upon him. and many were the remarks that were made. - Detective Pearsman and Detcctive Joyce were standing together. “ Who in creation is that!” asked Joyce. “ I give it up, unless it be Mepliistopheles him- self.” “He looks enough like him. But may it not be Gvnteel John, the outlaw?” “ Pessihly.” “ Thunder, man, suppose it is! How can you take it so quietly?" “It is nothing to get excited over. If it is. Genteel John we shall find it out before long.” “ After he has escaped?" “l have no desire to hinder his escape, as you know.” “ Well, I have; and I’ll do it, too, if I can, it it proves to be he.” ‘ -‘~._, .g. ‘ jean __. 4 $wf" A ‘ Lira- . ff... - be sent for, by all means. The Suspect Sport of Daisy Drift. 2’7 CHAPTER XXXIII. GENTEEL JOHN APPEARS. BY this time the mysterious stranger had come near to the bride and gronm, and the two detectives watched to see what would take lace. p In a moment it was his turn tooifer congratu- lations, and taking the hand of the groom, even though Pathfinder tried to avoid him, he said, in a voice loud enough to be heard all over the room: “Jerry, allow me to congratulate you upon Your happy marriage. And you, Mrs. Jerry omson, may you know nothing but peace and happine