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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..478e639 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68955 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68955) diff --git a/old/68955-0.txt b/old/68955-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e97f8ea..0000000 --- a/old/68955-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3032 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Black Cat, Vol. I, No. 6, March -1896, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Black Cat, Vol. I, No. 6, March 1896 - -Author: Various - -Release Date: September 10, 2022 [eBook #68955] - -Language: English - -Produced by: hekula03 and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images - made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK CAT, VOL. I, NO. 6, -MARCH 1896 *** - - - - - - - The Black Cat - - March 1896. - - =Eleanor Stevens’ Will=, Isabel Scott Stone - =To Let=, Alice Turner Curtis - =Of Course—Of Course Not=, Harry M. Peck - =The Marchburn Mystery=, A. Maurice Low - =Their Colonial Villa=, Charles Barnard - - THE SHORTSTORY PUBLISHING CO. 144 HIGH ST., BOSTON MASS. - - No. 6. Copyright, 1895 by The Shortstory Publishing Co. - - - - -ADVERTISEMENTS - - -Eager to get It—=SOZODONT=—Pure and Fragrant. Economy to Use It. - -This popular dentifrice is always delightful and effective. Used every -day, the powder twice a week, it insures better teeth, firmer gums and -sweeter breath. SOZODONT is known the world over, having stood the -test of half a century as the standard dentifrice of America. Sold by -druggists everywhere. Sample Free by mail if you mention this magazine. - - Address, HALL & RUCKEL, Proprietors, New York. - - * * * * * - -Mason & Hamlin Co. - -_The Mason and Hamlin Pianos are the only pianos manufactured containing -the patented Screw Stringer, by virtue of which they do not require one -quarter as much tuning as any other piano made: thus reducing expense of -keeping and inconvenience to a minimum._ - -_Full particulars and catalogues mailed free on application._ - - Mason & Hamlin Co. - BOSTON, NEW YORK, CHICAGO - - * * * * * - -Free Magic Lantern Book - -All about lanterns, stereopticons and views, for Public -Exhibitions—Schools—Home amusement and for everybody How to make -money—265 page illustrated catalogue free.—Send to McALLISTER, 49 NASSAU -STREET, NEW YORK. - - - - - The Black Cat - - A Monthly Magazine of Original Short Stories. - - No. 6. MARCH, 1896. 5 cents a copy, - 50 cents a year. - - Entered at the Post-Office at Boston, Mass., as second-class matter. - - =IMPORTANT.=—The entire contents of this magazine are covered - by copyright and publishers everywhere are cautioned against - reproducing any of the stories, either wholly or in part. - - Copyright, 1895, by the Shortstory Publishing Company. All rights - reserved. - - - - -Eleanor Stevens’ Will. - -BY ISABEL SCOTT STONE. - - -When the following notice appeared in the columns of the daily -newspapers, society experienced an absolutely new sensation. People who -hadn’t known the late Eleanor Stevens immediately began to inquire into -the history of the woman whose name was coupled with so singular an -announcement. And people who had known Eleanor Stevens forthwith revived -long lists of her curious fads and fancies, concluding always with the -declaration: “Well, it’s just what you might expect from Eleanor Stevens.” - - PERSONAL. The rejected suitors of the late Miss Eleanor Stevens - may hear something to their advantage by communicating with - Willard Pratt, Counsellor at Law, International Trust Building. - -Now, Eleanor Stevens had been by no means either the crotchety old maid -or the rattle-brained young one that these remarks might imply. On -the contrary, she had been a rarely charming and gifted young woman, -well born, well bred, the heiress to an enormous fortune, in fact, the -possessor of beauty, brains, and money, sufficient to equip half a dozen -so-called society belles. But in spite of these endowments, or, perhaps, -because of them, Eleanor Stevens had been an eccentric, and with every -year since her début her eccentricity had become more marked. At times, -for example, she would dance and golf, pour at teas, and talk small -talk to eligible young men with a persistency and success that made -her for the time the sun of society’s solar system. Then, suddenly, -and with no excuse whatever, she would withdraw into herself, refuse -all invitations, and spend a month or more in studying Buddhism or in -inquiring into the condition of the poor in great cities. As to her -suitors, the most remarkable reports had existed concerning Miss Stevens’ -treatment of those gentlemen. It had been said by some that each in turn -underwent a period of suspense hung, like Mahomet’s coffin, between -earth and heaven, at the end of which time he was always lowered to the -former element by Miss Stevens’ unqualified refusal. Certain malicious -rivals had even claimed that at times these proposals were so numerous -that Miss Stevens used printed forms of rejection,—like those sent by -publishers with unavailable manuscript,—with space left blank for the -name and date. There were others who had declared that her drawing-room -was always as crowded with suitors as a fashionable doctor’s waiting-room -with patients. Occasionally, it had occurred to an exceptionally -keen-witted person to connect the girl’s periods of self-exile with -her reputed refusal of some specially manly lover. But each of these -reports was, after all, founded only on surmise. For it was cited as -a crowning instance of Miss Stevens’ eccentricity that she had looked -upon the subject of love and marriage with an old-fashioned romanticism, -and that while she had never found her special ideal, she yet believed -too thoroughly in the honor of her would-be lovers ever to betray their -confidence. In the end, society had concluded to accept the girl’s -vagaries as simply “Eleanor Stevens’ way.” And this formula had been made -to cover a multitude of oddities, ranging from the wearing of high crowns -when low ones were the fashion, to Miss Stevens’ sudden and mysterious -departure for Europe exactly two days after she had taken apartments for -the summer with a party of friends at a watering-place hotel. Indeed, -when, six months after her abrupt departure, the notice came of the young -heiress’ sudden death—unattended except by her maid and companion—in -some obscure village in the Black Forest, even her friends could find no -phrase that so well expressed their shocked surprise as: “Well, that was -just like Eleanor Stevens. She couldn’t even die like other people.” - -And now, following upon the news of her strange death, had appeared this -still stranger notice. - -Eleanor Stevens’ rejected suitors! Who were they? Would they present -themselves according to directions? What were the advantages they would -gain by so doing? - -To the last of these questions the public had not long to wait for an -answer. Three days after the extraordinary “personal” had made its -appearance, the announcement was made that Eleanor Stevens had left a -will, and that this will had been probated. Before this news was twelve -hours old, the sensation caused by the advertisement was completely -overshadowed by that produced by the following clause with which it was -discovered the will ended: - -“To each one of my rejected suitors I give and bequeath twenty-five -thousand dollars, to be paid subject to certain sealed conditions, -exactly one year from my death, in the library of my residence in -Beechwood Street, Philadelphia.” - -Decidedly, society had never found a more tantalizing subject for gossip -than was furnished by this mysterious will. The latest scandal, the -approaching wedding at St. Peter’s, and the forthcoming private ball -all faded into nothingness beside this all-absorbing sensation. In the -newspapers long accounts of the dead woman’s life and character, of -her house and gowns, ways of wearing her hair, and such light-throwing -investigations were published daily. A popular preacher referred to the -subject veiledly in his Sunday night sermon. Men who had never seen -Eleanor Stevens quizzed one another about the wide swath they would -cut when they claimed the money due them under her will. While every -masculine being, from an office boy to a gray-haired clergyman, that rode -up in the elevator in the International Trust Building, where Willard -Pratt had his office, was regarded as a possible applicant, bent on -further informing himself concerning the curious legacy’s conditions. -One man only knew the facts in the case, and that was Eleanor Stevens’ -lawyer, Willard Pratt; but from him neither hints, nor bribes, nor open -question could drag a syllable. As for Mr. Pratt’s office boy, he reaped -a harvest of retainers for worthless tips on the “approaching race.” - -In the end, people decided that the legacy had some connection with the -late Miss Stevens’ romantic ideas concerning her rejected suitors; and -accepted, grudgingly, the necessity of awaiting the slow coming and going -of three hundred and sixty-five days before they could find out who those -suitors had been. - -Meantime, Willard Pratt, counsellor-at-law, was deriving from the -administration of Miss Stevens’ will the keenest enjoyment of his -long and varied legal career. Being a shrewd reader of character, -and possessed of a large fund of humor, he had vastly enjoyed being -interviewed by the claimants or the claimants’ friends, and, though they -had got nothing out of him, he had, on the other hand, got a great deal -out of them. As one after another left him the keen jurist invariably -chuckled to himself: - -“Smart girl to refuse him. He was after the money, that’s plain. But what -in the name of all that’s holy made her give him twenty-five thousand -now?” - -But his enjoyment reached its culminating point when, just one week -before the day appointed for the settlement of the will, society was -again startled by this notice in the daily papers: - - TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN. - - The rejected suitors of Miss Eleanor Stevens are requested to - meet at her late residence on Beechwood Street, Philadelphia, - on Monday, the 21st inst., at ten o’clock A. M., with reference - to the legacies due them under her will. WILLARD PRATT, - _Executor_. - -“I think that will reawaken popular interest,” said the old lawyer dryly. - -And so it did. Seven days later, when the hour appointed for the -reception of Miss Stevens’ rejected suitors drew near, the street in -the vicinity of her late residence was lined with an eager multitude of -men and women. From behind the curtains of every window within a block, -unseen spectators awaited the morning’s developments; while people who -would not acknowledge their curiosity by joining the crowd of confessed -sight-seers made convenient errands which took them through Beechwood -Street at the time appointed for the “show.” The only drawback to the -anticipated enjoyment was the fear that, after all, the suitors might at -the last moment fail to appear. - -But no such catastrophe occurred. It is true that as the hour drew near -in which they were to stand confessed as members of Miss Eleanor’s “army -of martyrs” several of the intended claimants had found themselves -weakening in their resolve. Those, for instance, who had justified their -claim solely on the ground of an admiration felt but never expressed, -felt their courage oozing as the ordeal approached. Others, who were -burning incense at new shrines, seriously considered renouncing a claim -that would decidedly complicate their present prospects. Still others, -who were now happily married, hesitated at opening the old wound and -endangering their domestic bliss, even for twenty-five thousand dollars; -while hardly one but felt some qualms at the thought of openly profiting -by an experience that most men hide in the deepest recesses of the heart. - -It was a question whether pride or profit would win the day. In the end, -however, the almighty dollar had proved its right to that title. - -When Mr. Pratt entered the library of Miss Stevens’ late residence, at -ten o’clock on this eventful morning, he found the room crowded with a -body of men clad in mourning garb and solemnly waiting in various stages -of uneasiness for the approach of the long-expected moment. - -As the lawyer silently took his seat behind a baize-covered table, the -troubled faces grew visibly more troubled; and as he produced sundry -important-looking documents and laid them on the table, each countenance -was stamped with mingled emotions, eager expectancy in many cases being -linked with shame and avarice. - -“Gentlemen,” began the old lawyer, “I must trouble each of you to give -me in writing a concise statement of the time, place, and circumstances -attending your several offers and rejections, in order that I may have -documentary proof that you are entitled to the legacies left you by the -terms of Miss Stevens’ will. - -“Documentary proof!” At those unexpected words the emotion that marked -the faces of the strange assembly changed to unmistakable concern. Was -this some disagreeable joke? No, the old lawyer waited with unmoved face -for the fulfilment of his demand. There was a momentary hesitation. Then, -filing up in due order, the applicants, one by one, seated themselves at -the table before the old attorney and wrote the account demanded. - -As the last statement was signed, the portières of the library were -suddenly drawn back, and a tall, heavily veiled figure advanced slowly -into the middle of the room. Then, as she raised her hand and drew back -the thick gauze that masked her face, a cry of terror echoed through the -house. - -The woman was Eleanor Stevens! - -“Wait,” she commanded. “Don’t be alarmed; I am no ghost. The Miss Stevens -who died a year ago in the Black Forest was not the Miss Stevens whose -loss you are so deeply mourning. - -“By a stupid blunder of the peasants with whom I was staying, an -exchange of names occurred between myself and an invalid girl whom I had -befriended; so that when she died, her death certificate was issued under -the name of Eleanor Stevens. - -“Some weeks earlier I had been influenced by daily contact with one whose -life was fading rapidly away to draw up my will in legal form and to send -it home to my lawyer. - -“When I left so suddenly for Europe a year and a half ago it was because -of a conversation overheard between several of my seeming admirers which -changed all my ideas of manly chivalry in affairs of the heart, and which -drove me abroad, as I supposed, forever. - -“It was that blundering exchange of names that has given me the -opportunity of meeting you under these interesting circumstances. - -“Now, gentlemen, my will, in which you have shown so deep an interest, -stipulates that each of my rejected suitors shall receive twenty-five -thousand dollars after my death. That bequest will be carried out to the -letter when I am really dead. - -“In the meantime I would gladly read your documentary proofs; but, as I -have never in all my life rejected but two suitors, and as one of these -died six months ago and the other is not here to-day, I shall be obliged -to refer you to my lawyer.” - -And with a sweeping courtesy Miss Stevens withdrew from the room. - - - - -“To Let.” - -BY ALICE TURNER CURTIS. - - -On one of the streets leading from the park in the center of a town near -Boston is a very attractive modern house with a history. It was built for -the occupancy of a Mr. and Mrs. Leslie, whose mysterious deaths mark the -beginning of this story. - -The facts here recorded are just as I heard them. Indeed I was a resident -of the town during the period in which these strange occurrences took -place, and had a personal acquaintance with the people mentioned. - -The Leslies had been married a year, were apparently happy, and were well -and favorably known in the town. One morning a neighbor noticed that -lights were burning in the Leslie house. He ran up the steps and rang the -bell. There was no response, and after a few hours the neighbors decided -that something was wrong inside, and that an entrance must be made at -once. The front door was accordingly forced open, and as the men went -in they could see into the room beyond the hall, the sitting-room. Mr. -Leslie was sitting with a paper across his knees, apparently asleep, and -on a couch near by lay his wife. - -It took but a few moments to ascertain that both had been dead for some -hours. Their faces were peaceful and composed; there were no signs of -disturbance in the house. - -Every possible inquiry was made. No trace of poison or of foul play -could be found. Numberless theories were advanced, and the wonder and -excitement over the tragic death of the young couple grew daily. - -After some months their relatives removed the furnishings, and “To Let” -appeared in the cottage windows. The house was immediately taken by a man -from Boston, whose family consisted, beside himself, of his wife and two -little girls. None of this family had heard the story of the Leslies, -nor did they hear it until they had been in the cottage for some weeks. - -One night, after they had occupied the dwelling for over a week, the man -of the family was awakened by a sudden scream. His wife awoke at the same -moment, and exclaimed: “One of the children must have the nightmare,” but -just then the two little girls rushed into the room, exclaiming, “What’s -the matter, mother? What are you screaming about?” Almost before they had -finished speaking two more screams in quick succession rang through the -house. The place was carefully searched, but no cause for the disturbance -could be found. - -The next night at about the same hour like sounds were heard. After -that Mr. Weston made inquiries of the neighbors. None of them had been -disturbed. One suggested that possibly a cat was shut up somewhere in -the house and had made the noises heard, but a careful search of the -entire premises failed to discover any such commonplace solution of the -mysterious sounds. - -A week passed without any recurrence of the midnight sounds, when one -night Mrs. Weston awoke from a most terrible dream. She dreamed that she -was lying upon the couch in the sitting-room. In front of her stood a -young man who held a pillow in his hands. “I shall stifle you,” he said -clearly; “it’s no use to struggle.” Mrs. Weston dreamed that she tried -to scream; that once, twice, three times she endeavored to rise from the -couch to push away the pillow, but could not. - -From this dream she awoke suddenly, and, as she lay endeavoring to -overcome its impression, a gasping shriek, quickly followed by two more, -awakened her husband, and again sent the little girls flying in terror to -their mother’s room. - -This time Mrs. Weston held herself responsible for the terrible screams. -“I’ve had a dreadful dream, and I suppose I screamed without knowing it,” -she said. She had hardly finished this explanation when again came the -screams, the last dying away in a stifled moan. - -The family was by this time thoroughly terrified. They had heard the -story of the Leslies, and without waiting for further experiences in the -house they moved at once. - -Their story got about the town, with the result that the house was -vacant for a year. Then a family, consisting of an elderly couple, Mr. -and Mrs. Walters, and their son, a young man about twenty-five, moved in. -The remainder of the story was told me by this son, and I will give it in -his own words as nearly as possible: - -“I wasn’t afraid of any haunted house. My father was deaf, so it -would take a reasonably loud scream to wake him, and my mother was a -sensible woman. The house just suited us. We got nicely settled in a few -weeks, and my elder brother and his wife came out from Boston to make -us a visit. The first night they were there I stayed in town for the -theater. The train I came out in left a few minutes after eleven, and I -reached the house at about a quarter before twelve. I was nearly ready -for bed when a shriek like that of a person struggling for his life -sounded through the house. I hurried into the hall, and as I did so my -brother opened his door. Before either of us could speak a second and -a third scream followed. By this time even father’s deaf ears had been -penetrated, and we all sat up talking the matter over far into the night -before we felt like sleep. - -“In the end we decided not to mention the occurrence. We thought of -several possible explanations of the noise. The next morning we made a -careful examination of the house and surroundings. We made inquiries as -to late trains, thinking we might have mistaken the shriek of an engine -for a human voice; but all our conjectures led to nothing. We could find -no satisfactory reason for the disturbance. - -“I made inquiries about the Leslies, and found that many people believed -that Leslie had stifled his wife, and then taken some subtle poison which -left no trace; but there was no evidence to support this theory; no sign -of poison had been found, no cause could be given for such an act, and -nothing could explain the midnight screams. A week passed quietly, when -one night my brother awakened our mother, telling her that his wife was -ill. She had awakened from a bad dream almost suffocated, and my mother -worked over her for some time before she was restored. She refused to -tell her dream, but we were well assured that it was a repetition of Mrs. -Weston’s. The next morning my brother and his wife went to their home. - -“I had one more experience in that house which I shall never forget. My -father was to be out one night until midnight at the meeting of a society -of which he was a member, and my mother and I decided to wait up for him. - -“About eleven o’clock mother lay down on the couch and went to sleep. The -room was brightly lighted, and I sat near the couch reading. - -“Just as I heard my father come in I was startled by a sudden moan from -my mother. I turned quickly toward the couch, and as I did so I saw -plainly that the sofa pillow lay upon her face. I snatched it away, and -awakened her with some little difficulty. - -“Meantime my father had come into the room, and as he entered a scream, -terrible in its nearness and intensity, rang out, thrilling us all with a -sickening shock. We left the next day.” - -This finished his story. No explanation of these happenings has ever been -given. The Leslies’ death remains a mystery, and to explain the Presence -that occupied this cottage after their death would be to account for a -side of life which we barely touch and cannot comprehend. - -The house is still to let. - -[Illustration] - - - - -Of Course—Of Course Not. - -BY HARRY M. PECK. - - -They sat, side by side, on a big hearth-rug, gazing into the glowing -coals. The one was a young man, of perhaps twenty-eight, and the other -an old dog, of perhaps ten. That’s not a criticism on the poverty of the -English language. It simply shows how much more a dog can “get out,” or -perhaps “put into,” ten years than a man. - -They sat there, anyway. Young or old. Young and old. And they gazed into -the coals. And the young one blew great clouds of smoke out of a fragrant -briarwood at the old one. But the old one did not mind. He was acclimated. - -It was in the cozy bachelor apartments of Neil Richards. Neil was a -fellow who had succeeded, by dint of presumable study, money, and late -nights, in getting through college in a commendable manner, seven years -before. Since that time he had been engaged in the financial business. -Not exactly as a legitimate broker; nor as a negotiator of loans; nor -again as a pawnbroker; but in that pleasanter line which on a business -letter-head—if he had owned such a thing—would have been expressed -something like this: “Neil Richards, Income Spender, Pleasant Street, -Easyville.” Anyway, he had been traveling, intermittently, to improve -himself, as the phrase goes, since the day he calmly, and with the most -approved senioric gravity, tucked a sheepskin under his arm and discarded -his cap and gown. - -But, after his latest peripatetic streak, he was back again, at last, in -New York, in his old rooms, in his favorite seat on the hearth-rug, with -his dog beside him, and—in love. The fellows at the club had said for -several weeks past, as Richards would excuse himself, get up, and go out -about nine o’clock evenings: “Funny about Neil, isn’t it? He leaves us -every night at nine o’clock, and goes home, and they say he sits down and -talks to that old dog, General, of his till midnight. Guess he must be -in love.” - -And the fellows were right. Neil was hopelessly, fearfully, and miserably -in love. Her name was Dorcas—Dorcas Howland; not a particularly pretty -name, nor a particularly pretty girl; but a girl with such a wealth of -sweetness, tact, common sense, and intelligence that more would have made -her a curiosity. Neil had seen her at what is known as a large affair one -evening, two months ago; was presented, murmured his platitudes, had a -waltz, and immediately put her on a pedestal. He had seen her a few times -since, once driving, when he received a bow that kept him absent-minded -for a week; and on a few other occasions at the house of a friend, where -he had passed some of the shortest quarter hours of his existence—talking -to her. And that was as far as he had gone. It isn’t exactly strange, -then, is it, that when a man almost deifies a girl he has known only two -months he should like to sit down on a hearth-rug and talk to an old dog -he has known for ten years? A club, and cocktails, and gossip, and late -hours are no solace at all, under such circumstances. - -But we left them on the hearth-rug, gazing into the coals. “You see, -General, it’s like this: I’m in love—desperately in love—and Miss Howland -doesn’t care a rap for me. Probably thinks I am just like all the rest -of them, looking for her money, when I’m really not. You understand, -General, that I’m not.” - -The General blinked sympathetically, and looked hard at the coals. Neil -threw an arm affectionately around the dog. “You see, I like to tell -you these things, old boy, because you never say anything about them.” -There was silence for a few moments, while Richards meditatively pulled -away at his pipe and the dog pensively thought of his puppyhood and its -loves. “She’s so sweet and dainty,” at last continued Neil. “How she -would brighten up a home for us, wouldn’t she, General?” The dog turned -his head, and, looking at his master, reached one great paw over and laid -it on Richards’s knee. “Shake, is it, old man? Well, here goes. I thought -you felt as I did. Now, General, you and I must scheme how to get her.” -The dog thumped his tail appreciatively on the rug, and they both went to -work staring at the coals again. - -And so they sat on,—Neil solemnly meditative, the General silently -sympathetic. It was a good hour later, when Neil’s pipe had burned -out, and the dog’s head had drowsily fallen against his shoulder, that -Richards heard the elevator bell ring, and a moment after the upward -rush of the car. Then, as the elevator stopped at his landing, he heard -the voice of old Barker, the janitor, saying, “Yes, sir; Mr. Richards is -always in nights now, sir. I am sure you will find him still up. Door -to the right, sir; and do be careful, sir, not to go to the left, as -them’s Miss Stevens’s apartments, sir, and no one is allowed to disturb -her, sir, till I takes her up her cup of tea, and the saucer of milk for -the gray cat, sir, at half after—” but the remainder of the old man’s -loquacity was muffled by the sound of voices. - -“Some of the boys, come to drag me out on one of their infernal midnight -romps, I suppose,” said Richards to himself, with a discontented sigh. -“They did that only three nights ago. Why can’t they let a poor devil -smoke his pipe in peace?” Then, as footsteps approached the door, he -arose and surveyed himself in a long mirror at the end of the room. He -did not look very presentable, he admitted. His hair was mussed, his -clothes were full of tobacco ashes, and he hadn’t, when he sat down, -even taken the trouble to don a lounging jacket; hence was in his -shirt-sleeves. “But who cares?” remarked Richards to himself. “If these -stupid night hawks will come here at such an hour, they will have to take -things as they find them. Suppose they will have something to drink, -however.” As he turned to the cabinet set in the side of the room, with -his back to the door, and reached for decanters and glasses, a knock -sounded, and a cheery voice shouted, “O Neil, I say, Neil, I’m coming in.” - -“Come in, you infernal rounder, if you must,” was the reply. “Bring them -all in; you are never alone. You and your gang are, without exception, -the most unexcelled set of thoughtless, reveling peace-disturbers I know -of. You fellows have been at this thing for ten years,” continued Neil; -“you know you have, Bob” (still busy with the decanters). “Don’t you -ever intend letting up? Why don’t you fellows say something? This is no -monologue.” - -By this time Richards had succeeded in extricating the troublesome -decanters from the mass of bottles and glasses, and, turning around, -faced the door. To his amazement, instead of the crowd of merry faces he -had expected to see peering in at him, he saw only two. One was that of -Bob Cutting, his chum, and the other—was that—of Miss Dorcas Howland! -The door was wide open. She stood a little in front. Cutting was in the -doorway. The gleam from the dying coals and the ruddy reflection from a -lamp with a big red shade over in the corner brought out every detail of -her face and figure. - -And Neil stood, with a decanter in each hand, coatless, and mussed, and -speechless. The silence did not last long, however. Miss Howland smiled, -bowed sweetly to Neil, and stepped into the room. “Good-evening, Mr. -Richards,” she said, and held out her hand. Neil managed, in a dazed sort -of a way, to set down the decanter that was in his right hand without -breaking it, and accepted the proffered hand. Bob Cutting looked on and -smiled. “Too astounded to speak, Mr. Richards,” remarked the young woman. -“Well, an explanation certainly is due you. Then you may not think me so -utterly indiscreet as appearances would seem to warrant. Mr. Cutting, -will you kindly try to put matters straight, and, at the same time, -assure Mr. Richards that we are his guests? His accent, as I recollect -it, is a pleasing one. For ‘this is no monologue,’ you know,” and she -smiled pleasantly at Neil. - -“Yes,” broke in Cutting, as Miss Howland paused, “you see, Neil, it’s -like this. It does look funny, I admit; but I was walking home with -Dorcas—er—Miss Howland, from some working girls’ club she engineers, and -we were chatting about picturesque bachelor apartments, or, rather, I was -describing some of them to her that I know the best, and I struck yours. -I think I must have grown very eloquent in my description, for Miss -Howland insisted that she must see these famous apartments, of which, -by the way, all the girls have heard. Knowing it would be all right, as -far as you were concerned, I proposed we come over to-night and make you -a call, though”—as he looked ruefully around the room—“I really didn’t -think she’d come.” - -Neil, during the recital, had quite recovered himself, and privately -decided that if a man and a girl were willing to take the social risk -he surely could meet them half way. So he calmly placed the other -decanter on a table, and, turning to them, remarked, “I am very glad to -see you. This is a little bit out of the ordinary, but the unexpected -is quite often the pleasantest. Won’t you sit down, Miss Howland? I am -extremely sorry that your visit to my den couldn’t have been made under -more favorable circumstances; at one of my little teas, for instance. -Under other than the present circumstances I should feel that an apology -was due you for my personal appearance. I am quite aware that I have no -coat on, that my hair is mussed, and that I have a general and virulent -attack of the malady bachelor-at-homeness. However, I shan’t apologize.” -And then the democratic Neil pulled up two big armchairs, and, having -seen his guests cosily seated before the replenished fire, calmly and -coatlessly resumed his place on the hearth-rug beside the General. Miss -Howland looked surprised, but said nothing. Then she reached over and -patted the silky head of the dog. He took the caress in a dignified sort -of way, but nestled closer, if possible, to Richards. “What a handsome -fellow,” she softly said; “and how much he thinks of his master,” she -added to herself. - -The three chatted away together about bachelor dens, people, and other -generalities for some time, when suddenly Miss Howland rose and, turning -to Cutting, said: “I wonder if you’d mind granting me one more favor. I -wish to have a little talk with Mr. Richards—alone.” She paused a moment. -“I know it’s unconventional, but the rest of this is, also, and I know -you won’t take it amiss, will you?” - -“Not at all,” Cutting answered. “Suppose I manipulate the ivories while -you have your talk. Don’t feel that it must be abbreviated on my account; -but when you get through, why, do as they do in the plays, ring for me, -and, like the footman, I’ll appear. Is it feasible?” - -“Quite so, thank you,” answered the girl; “it’s so good of you.” And, -with a pipe in one hand and a tobacco jar in the other, Bob vanished -through the portières; and a moment later the click of billiard balls -announced that he had found occupation. - -The girl turned to Richards. He had risen with Cutting and had now -donned a Japanese smoking-jacket, in which, somehow, he felt better -equipped for his strange tête-à-tête. As his eyes sought hers she looked -him frankly in the face, and simply asked: “Mr. Richards, what do you -think of me?” Richards was silent for a moment, and then, with his eyes -on the dog at his feet, said: “Shall I tell you frankly?” - -“Yes, please do,” answered the girl. - -He looked up. “I think you have lots of courage, are a bit injudicious, -and, of course, did not come here without reasons.” - -She smiled. “You are frank, but don’t you think it rude to assume the -role of inquisitor in your first remark?” - -“But you asked me, didn’t you?” he gently replied. - -“Yes, I suppose so,” she said. - -She stood absently looking down at shaggy General sleeping peacefully -on the hearth-rug. Richards watched her a minute, and then, stepping -forward, said softly, “Please sit down, Miss Howland, and then you can -tell me as much as you wish.” - -A grateful look flashed into her face, as she took the big chair he -offered her, and sank into it a little wearily. Leaning back, she -scrutinized the well-cut, thoughtful face of the man. He had taken his -place beside the dog again, and as he sat staring at the coals in the -flickering firelight he seemed even handsomer than ever. - -She looked at him a moment, and, without moving, said: “Mr. Richards, -I’ve come here to-night on a queer mission. I wish advice. I wish to -tell you something about myself, and then I want you to advise me as to -what you think I ought to do. I have come to you under circumstances -peculiar, to say the least, for these reasons: First, because what I have -seen of you has led me to think you honest, frank, and sincere; second, -because your friends assure me I am right. This has led me to believe -you will be willing to overlook what might be construed as unwomanly, -and, in addition, will be willing to help me in trouble. Am I right?” she -hesitatingly asked. - -“Yes, Miss Howland, you are,” he replied; “people who know anything about -you could not misinterpret your actions. Don’t think circumstances affect -me; but just tell me plainly what I can do for you.” - -“I thought you would take it so,” she said in a tone of relief. “And -now I’ll tell you what I wish to, and pray don’t regard it as a girl’s -whim,—as a peculiar girl’s whim,—but simply try to assume the role of a -willing listener and an impartial adviser. You see,” she continued, “I -have no one to go to. I am alone in the world. My parents are both dead, -and I live with an elderly aunt, who is as good to me as any one could -be, but with whom I have absolutely nothing in common.” - -The girl smiled thoughtfully. “She likes her tea and cat, her Goldsmith -and Thackeray, early hours, and to be left alone. I am different. She is -sixty-eight, and that’s the reason, I presume. Besides, she was never -married. And now, Mr. Richards, I have come to the place where I hardly -know what to say. It’s about my marrying. A funny thing to consult you -about, isn’t it? You see, ever since I was a child it has been taken -for granted that when I grew up I should marry a certain individual. My -parents both seemed to consider it a settled matter, my aunt the same; -and I suppose, as a child, I followed the general example. That man was -Bob Cutting. We played together as children, living in adjacent houses, -and virtually grew up together. I remember we used to have mock marriage -ceremonies, at which he and I always figured as the principals, with some -other youngster as the clergyman, and we always looked forward to the -time when as ‘grown ups’ our marriage might be made ‘real.’ So matters -drifted along. The children’s play stopped a good many years ago; but Bob -has kept coming to see me just the same. - -“And now—well, he wishes to carry out in earnest what was begun in play. -A few nights ago he asked me to be his wife.” - -The girl leaned forward, and absently smoothed the General’s head, as he -lay there watching the coals. Presently she said:— - -“Mr. Richards, then, and not till then, did I find I did not love him. -But,” she added, “I did not tell him so. I said only: ‘We’ve been friends -since we were children. Come to me next Sunday night, and I will give you -my answer.’” - -For a moment she sat without speaking; then she concluded: “Mr. Richards, -you are Bob Cutting’s dearest friend. He hasn’t but one friend like you. -No man has; no man can have; no man wishes more. I come to you and ask -you, who know him so well, what shall I do? Shall I tell him Sunday night -that I’ll marry him, or shall I say ‘no’? Is it selfish in a girl placed -as I am to think of her own future, or ought I to give it up to him? He -has been good to me; so good to me; I like him, but I do not love him.” - -And then she leaned wearily back in her chair, and fixed her eyes on -Richards. He did not look up. He did not seem to realize her presence. -She watched him, and he watched the red embers glow, crumble, and fade -into ashes. The dog whined in his sleep. Then, finally, Richards raised -his head, and quietly said:— - -“Miss Howland, I think it would be very wrong for you to marry Bob. As -you say, I know him well. He is a fellow with such a wealth of love -for those he cares for that if he finds it is not reciprocated he is -miserable. Think what a lifetime of it would mean to him. And now, you -see, in what I’ve said so far I’ve considered only Bob. I think you also -ought to consider yourself. Two lives are involved; and why should they -both be ruined? You are both young. If I were you I should tell Bob, -in the kindest possible way, that I did not love him. He will grieve -at first, but I think when he finds out you were not for him he will -see that it’s for the best, and afterward will thank you. And, as for -yourself, Miss Howland, when you’ve done this, you can say, ‘I’ve done -my duty; I’ve done right.’ And some day”—the man hesitated—“and some day -perhaps some other good man will come along, and ask you to marry him, -and perhaps you’ll find you care a great deal for him; and the past, with -its Bob, and its trouble,” and again he hesitated, “and its visit to -Richards and the General will be a ghostly vision, which happiness and -sunshine will soon wipe away.” - -At this point he was interrupted suddenly by the General, who, as though -scenting some vague trouble, started up with a sleepy “Wuff!” - -The sound relieved the tension of the situation. Both laughed, and Miss -Howland, rising, reached out her hand to Richards, who now stood facing -her. “Thank you,” she said cordially. “You’ve been very good. You’ll -return my visit some time, won’t you? And now, suppose we ‘ring the -bell’ for Bob,” nodding towards an Oriental gong that hung suspended near -the mantel. - -Richards took her hand and, holding it a moment, said quietly: “I -thank you; I will come. But, before you go, I want to ask you just one -question. Don’t answer it unless you wish to. You told me that you don’t -love Bob; is it—is it because there’s some one else?” - -They say that a man’s life, and hopes, and ambitions can be snuffed out -by a woman’s reply. And they also say that a man’s future can be made all -sunshine and promise if hope can only enter in. And that sometimes comes -from a woman’s reply, also. - -She waited a moment, and then replied firmly: - -“No; there’s no one else.” - -A moment later Cutting joined them in response to Richards’ summons. -As he stood before the fire, pulling on his gloves, he looked at each -good-humoredly, and said: “I’m awfully glad that you have become -better acquainted; but I hope you haven’t been engaged in the pleasing -occupation of damning a mutual friend. I see you’ve made friends with -General, also, Miss Howland,” he concluded. For the dog stood beside the -girl, watching and waiting for a caress. - -“Yes,” she replied; “General and I are the best of friends,” and she -leaned over and softly patted the handsome head. “And General’s master -and I are going to be, too, are we not, Mr. Richards?” - -“Yes, we are going to be—that is, I hope so,” Richards said slowly. - -The next moment the door closed, and she was gone. And Richards picked up -a pipe, and lit it, and, turning to the dog, thoughtfully remarked: - -“And so endeth the first lesson.” - - * * * * * - -Of course it’s obvious. Love does not need to be diagramed. And, of -course, a year later, when the big brownstone had its awning, and its -carpeted steps, and its music, and its flowers, all was quite as it -should be. And of course their friends heard the Mendelssohn march, and -threw rice, and wished them joy. And Bob Cutting was best man? Of course -not. And did the Mother Grundies shrug their white shoulders, and say: -“What a beautiful bride! but I wonder how she could have done it; they -say she was engaged to another?” Of course they did. And that is love, -and about the way it generally turns out. Of course. - -[Illustration] - - - - -The Marchburn Mystery. - -BY A. MAURICE LOW. - - -As Walter Brixton, chief of United States secret service agents in New -York City, stepped off the Washington Limited in the Jersey City depot, -the newsboys were calling, “Extra, extra, all about the murder; extra!” -Brixton bought a paper. As he settled himself in the “L” car he read, -under flaming head-lines, the following account, written in the short, -paragraphic style which usually denotes that “copy” has been prepared in -a newspaper office in a rush: - -“Shortly after six o’clock this evening, Bridget Martin, one of the -cleaners employed in the Empire Building, discovered the dead body of -Lawrence Marchburn in his private office. - -“The screams of the frightened woman brought to her assistance the -janitor and some of the tenants, although nearly all of them had left the -building for the day. - -“A hasty examination showed that Mr. Marchburn had been shot. - -“When found he was sitting at his desk, his head dropped forward and -resting on his left arm, his hand clutching the receiver of the telephone -with the death grip. This would seem to indicate that Mr. Marchburn had -been shot in the very act of using the telephone, which was affixed to -his desk. The body was still warm, but life was quite extinct. - -“The murder must have been committed within an hour of the time of -discovery. - -“A small wound just above the heart indicated that death had probably -been instantaneous. - -“The police were immediately notified, and an officer appeared upon the -scene. He questioned the janitor and his assistants, but learned nothing -additional to the above facts. A search was made for the pistol, but it -could not be found, which proves conclusively that it is a case of murder -and not suicide. - -“None of the persons had heard the sound of a pistol shot, but the woman, -Martin, said she heard shortly after five o’clock what sounded like the -violent slamming of a door. At that time she was on the seventh floor, -and paid no attention to the noise. Mr. Marchburn’s office was on the -eleventh floor. - -“At this time the police have not the slightest clue on which to proceed. -At the central telephone station no one remembers having been asked to -connect 1611 Courtland, which was Marchburn’s number. As no record is -kept of the thousands of daily calls, the telephone office can throw -no light on the murder. There is no known motive for the crime, as Mr. -Marchburn was not supposed to have an enemy, and was highly respected in -business and social circles. The inquest to-morrow is expected to throw -some light upon the awful crime. - -“Mr. Marchburn was president of the International Bank Note and Engraving -Company, whose offices are on the eleventh story of the Empire Building, -their factory being in New Jersey. - -“He came to New York about five years ago from the West, and started the -Bank Note Company, which has been remarkably successful. He was a member -of the Central League, the Cosmopolitan, and the Hudson Bay Clubs. - -“Deceased was a director in the Seventeenth National Bank and other -financial institutions, and was a member of the Jackson Avenue -Presbyterian Church. He leaves a daughter, his only child, and, his wife -having died several years ago, the sole heir to his vast wealth, which is -estimated at millions.” - -Like all detectives, Brixton was interested in any story of crime; but -just now a case of his own engrossed the larger part of his attention. -For some months past the country had been flooded with counterfeit notes, -and, although the entire secret service force and the police of all the -leading cities had been hunting the counterfeiters, they had made little -progress. The bills were so nearly perfect, they so closely copied the -genuine article, both as to the work of the engraver and the paper upon -which they were printed, that only an expert was able to discriminate -between them. People began to be thoroughly alarmed. Many got rid of -their paper money as quickly as possible, and exchanged it for gold and -silver so as to avoid risk. The newspapers denounced the Secretary of the -Treasury for not being able to capture the criminals. - -The newspapers next morning contained long accounts of the murder of Mr. -Marchburn; but they were able to add little to the reports printed in the -extras of the evening before. The murder of a wealthy business man in -practically broad daylight, in a building on one of the most frequented -streets of the city, caused a tremendous sensation, and in business -circles the tragedy was more eagerly discussed than the course of the -market. The coroner’s inquest brought out these facts: - -Mr. Marchburn had spent the day at the factory, and returned to his -office about five o’clock. The clerks had not expected him back that -evening, and some of them had left. To his chief clerk he said he had -stopped in on his way up town to fetch some papers which he wanted to -look over at his house, and that while in the office he would write some -personal letters. No one need wait for him, as he would latch the outer -door after him. Then Mr. Marchburn threw open his desk, the chief clerk -wished him good-evening, and in a few minutes, except for the president, -the offices appeared to be vacant. - -It was explained to the jury that the company occupied five rooms, all of -which opened into the main corridor. Mr. Marchburn’s private room was at -the extreme end of the suite. The company employed seven clerks, two of -them girls. One of the girls and Mr. Marchburn’s private secretary had -left before the return of that gentleman, and the other clerks testified -that no stranger was in any of the rooms when they left. The last persons -to leave were John Rogers, the chief clerk, and the cashier, William -Harding. Rogers swore that while he was waiting for Harding to close the -safe Mr. Marchburn came into the general office from his room, and asked -if a certain account had been paid. Both men were positive that nobody -could have been secreted in the rooms at that time, and at the close -of the short conversation Mr. Marchburn again said “Good-night,” and -returned to his room. Rogers put down the spring latch and tried the door -from the outside. It was safely locked. They walked across the hall to -the elevator, and while waiting for the car met the janitor, who inquired -if the offices were empty. Rogers told him that Mr. Marchburn was in his -room and would be busy for a short time. - -The janitor told a straight enough story. After leaving Rogers and -Harding he had worked on the other side of the building, and then went -to the first floor. He was on the third story at the time when Bridget -Martin’s screams alarmed him, and he hastily ran to the elevator and -told the conductor to take him upstairs. At that time he did not know -whence the outcry proceeded, but as the elevator went rushing up some one -shouted that Mr. Marchburn had been hurt. When he reached the eleventh -story and entered the company’s rooms he found the Martin woman and -three or four other persons, tenants of the building. His evidence as to -the finding of the body was merely corroborative of that of the other -witnesses. - -There are four elevators in the Empire Building. The conductor of No. 4 -elevator, Richard Wright, testified as follows: “I have been employed -only two days at the Empire Building. It is the rule to close down two -of the elevators at half past five; at six o’clock the third is closed, -and the other half an hour later. I am ‘late man’ this week. Just as six -o’clock was striking and elevator No. 3 was making its last downward -trip, the annunciator in my car dropped for the tenth story. I ran my car -up and took in a young man. I do not remember to have seen him before. He -stepped into the car, and as I pulled the rope to go down I noticed that -he had a handkerchief wrapped round his right hand and he was holding it -with his left, as though it hurt him. I said to him: ‘Have you hurt your -hand?’ He replied: ‘Yes, I squeezed it in the door.’ - -“I looked at his hand again and noticed that there was blood upon the -handkerchief, and I said: ‘It’s bleeding.’ The young fellow looked -dreadfully scared, and I thought he was going to drop, but he said -something I couldn’t hear, and as soon as the car stopped he walked away -quickly.” - -This testimony produced a profound sensation, and every eye was turned -upon Wright. - -“Why did you not mention this circumstance to the police last night?” -asked the coroner. - -Wright shifted about uneasily and said: “When I heard the screams -upstairs and was told that Mr. Marchburn had been murdered I was scared -half out of my life and clean forgot all about it until I got home. It -was then too late to tell any one, and I thought I would wait until I -came here.” - -“Can you describe this man?” asked a juror. - -“He was a young fellow; I should think about twenty-four. I didn’t notice -his face particularly, except when I told him his hand was bloody, and -then I saw how white he looked. I never should have thought much of it if -it hadn’t been for the murder.” - -“How was he dressed?” - -“He had on a brown overcoat; but I don’t remember anything else.” - -That was all the light Wright could throw upon the affair. Coroner and -jurymen plied him with questions; but he could tell them nothing. He did -not know the color of the man’s eyes, whether he wore a beard, what kind -of hat he wore; in fact, he could furnish nothing which would serve as an -identification. He thought he might know the man if he were to see him -again; but he was not absolutely sure as to that. There was no reason to -think that Wright was not telling the truth, and it was almost impossible -that he could have committed the murder, but the jury, in rendering their -verdict of wilful murder against some person or persons unknown, censured -Wright for having remained silent for more than twelve hours, and the -coroner privately suggested to the police that they keep an eye upon -Wright. - -As soon as the verdict had been rendered, Detective Sergeants Johnson -and Richardson, who had been detailed by Superintendent of Police Walton -to attend the inquest, reported to him for further instructions. They -briefly repeated the testimony and especially the startling evidence of -Wright. When they had finished the chief said: - -“What do you make of it?” - -“The man in the brown overcoat is the murderer,” said Johnson. - -“The man in the brown overcoat had nothing to do with it; but Wright -knows a great deal more than he has told,” was Richardson’s analysis. - -Walton looked out of the window a couple of minutes without speaking. -“The person who committed the murder,” he said, as if he were talking to -himself more than to his listeners, and without looking at either, “was -expected to call at the office that evening by Marchburn, who came back -about the time the clerks were preparing to leave, on purpose to keep his -appointment. All the doors were locked. Either the visitor must have had -a duplicate key, or else Marchburn left one of the doors open, or they -had a private signal. Any one of a dozen persons might have been able to -open the door with a duplicate key; but I don’t see anything to point in -that direction. Marchburn would hardly be likely to leave the door open -for his expected visitor, so it is evident the doors were kept locked, -and when the prearranged signal was given Marchburn opened the door to -his murderer. Who was the murderer and what was the motive? It was not -money, because no valuables were taken, and the clerks say that neither -papers nor anything else were disturbed. The murder was either the result -of a sudden burst of passion, or else it was premeditated, and something -forced the murderer to do then what had long been contemplated. There was -a very strong motive. Find the motive and you find the—” - -“The murderer,” interrupted Richardson. - -“The murderess,” continued the chief as calmly as if he had not heard the -interruption. - -“A woman?” cried his listeners simultaneously. - -“Certainly, a woman; it is a woman’s crime. From the time when Rogers -and Harding left until the discovery of the body was a scant hour. To -avoid all possible risks of interruption, Marchburn did not arrange the -interview until after five, so that between that hour and six he was -shot. At six he was dead, and the doctor testified he must have been -dead between fifteen and thirty minutes when he was called in. So that -fixes the time of the shooting between half past five and six. Marchburn -expected a woman to call upon him that night, because he would not have -made such careful preparations for secrecy if his visitor had been a -man. He did not want his clerks to see his caller. The time between her -calling and the shooting was too short for them to have quarreled; but it -was long enough for her to have made her demand and to have been refused -by Marchburn. Then she shot him.” - -“But the young man in the brown overcoat?” asked Johnson. - -“If the coroner had the slightest sense,” sneered the chief, “he would -have asked Wright if the ‘young man’ looked as if ‘he’ were disguised, -and Wright’s answer would have shown whether he is merely a thick-skulled -idiot or whether he has a hand in this affair. But I’m glad the question -was not asked, as the woman will think her disguise has shielded her. But -Wright has given himself away by his answers. He says ‘the young man’ had -a handkerchief wrapped around his right hand, and was holding it with his -left, as if it hurt him. Isn’t that a woman’s attitude? A man would have -shoved his hand in his pocket and held it there—at any rate, until he was -in the street, where no one would have noticed it or paid any attention -to him. But the woman doesn’t know how to use her pockets; her hand hurts -her, and she holds it out in full view, instead of hiding it, as a man -would have done. I’ll stake my reputation that the young man in the brown -overcoat is a woman, and that the woman is the murderer of Mr. Marchburn.” - -The superintendent rapidly outlined his plans. “I want you,” he said -to Richardson, “to look up Marchburn’s past record in the West. Look -for the woman there, or for the chapter in his life in which the woman -figures. It’s there, although it may be difficult to find. Johnson, you -look up his record from the time he came to New York to the day of his -death. See if there is any woman entanglement here. Keep your eye upon -Wright. I can’t quite size that man up. Look for the brown overcoat. Now, -Richardson, you’d better start right in, and wire me just as soon as you -strike anything.” - -In a few moments Johnson went back. “There is one thing I don’t -understand,” he said. “Why did the woman get in the elevator at the tenth -instead of the eleventh story?” - -“Easy enough to explain, and another indication that we are dealing with -a woman and not a man. When she left the office her natural impulse was -to walk down the stairs, to avoid meeting any one, instead of courting -observation, as a man would have done under the circumstances. She -walked down one flight; she heard the cleaners moving about and dreaded -meeting them, and rang for the elevator as being less dangerous. Remember -we are dealing with a woman of no ordinary caliber,—one who is not a -seasoned criminal, and who thinks quickly.” - -From Johnson’s report next morning the superintendent learned that -Marchburn had moved to New York from the West five years before his -murder; that his only child, Lucille, was twenty years old; that father -and daughter were very much attached to one another. Marchburn’s tastes -were all domestic; he seldom stayed out late at night, unless in company -with his daughter; he was a regular church attendant, and contributed -liberally to its support and to charities. His business was extremely -profitable, his fortune being considered very large. - -Walton read the report through and felt annoyed. It was not what he -wanted. He felt that he was right in charging a woman with the crime; but -how was he to find a woman who left no traces behind her? Besides, the -papers were growing impatient, clamoring for an arrest, and indulging -in satirical flings at the impotence of the police. Suddenly an idea -occurred to him. “I ought to have thought of that before,” he said to -himself. “Rogers or Harding might know,” and the superintendent, once -more the cold, impassive man of affairs, walked quietly out of his office. - -Superintendent Walton went briskly down town, thinking deeply as he -walked, and yet noticing everything that went on around him. As he turned -the corner of Silver Lane his eye fell upon a portly, well-groomed man -who was walking in front of him. Walton was noted for never forgetting a -man or woman he had once known, and there was something about this man -which seemed familiar. Quickening his pace a little, the detective pushed -ahead until he came opposite a money-changer’s window, and appeared to be -intently gazing at the piles of gold and silver; but out of the corner of -one of his eyes he was carefully watching for the man whom he hoped would -soon pass. The superintendent looked up and saw a well-preserved man of -about sixty, with florid complexion and carefully trimmed whiskers. He -looked like any one of hundreds of prosperous business men. Still trying -to fit the face to a name, Walton followed the man into Wall Street, -and as he passed the sub-treasury he saw Brixton coming down the steps. -The sight of the government agent was like a flash in the dark, and the -object he was groping for was instantly made plain. The superintendent -determined to take desperate chances. “By gad,” he muttered, “I’ll risk -it. If he’s the man his voice will give him away.” Quickening his walk, -he stepped up to the man, and, tapping him on the shoulder, said very -quietly: - -“I want you, John Marsh.” - -With perfect composure he began, “Excuse me, sir, I do not know you—” but -in the first three words his deep voice broke into a theatrical falsetto. - -Walton smiled triumphantly. “Perhaps not; but I know you, Marsh,” he -said, with his hand still on the man’s arm. - -“This is the second time you have called me by that name. My name is not -Marsh. Pardon me if I say good-morning,” said the other in perfectly -modulated tones, and made a movement as if to continue on his way. - -But Walton was not to be shaken off so lightly. “Wait a minute,” he said, -and his voice was as pleasant and his manner as polite as that of the man -whom he was addressing. “Perhaps when I tell you that I am Superintendent -of Police Walton, who was chief of the detective bureau when we last met, -you may remember me.” - -“My dear sir, this is incomprehensible. I never had the pleasure of -meeting you before, and, as I have to attend a very important meeting of -the directors of my bank I must beg to be excused. If you really are the -chief of police, I think, instead of wasting your time with reputable -business men, you could better afford to devote a little of your leisure -to finding the murderer of my dear old friend, Lawrence Marchburn.” - -“You were acquainted with Mr. Marchburn?” - -“Sir, I decline to submit to this impertinence any longer. If you attempt -to stop me further I shall call an officer.” - -“I think not,” said Walton, with a smile. “You are going with me to -headquarters, or I will accompany you to your bank; which do you prefer?” - -“In two minutes I could show you what a fool you are making of yourself; -but I prefer to teach you a lesson. I submit to this indignity in the -interest of good government.” - -“All right, Marsh; I see you are the same old Chesterfield,—just as -smooth as ever. You’ve no objection if we ride, I suppose?” and Walton -hailed a passing cab. As they jogged up town both men remained silent. -Turning a corner, the cab gave a sudden lurch, the superintendent’s hand -in some mysterious manner caught in his prisoner’s whiskers, and they -came away from his face. The two men looked one another squarely in the -eye. Marsh was the first to speak. “You’re a nervy one, superintendent,” -he said. “What do you want me for? I’m living straight.” - -“I’m glad to hear it, but I want to have a quiet little talk with you; -besides, I heard you were dead.” - -Marsh smiled. The loss of his whiskers showed him to be a man of about -forty, with a firm jaw, a keen blue eye, and a high forehead. “I wish -to God I was dead,” he said. “When a man tries to live straight he gets -snagged and is disgraced.” - -The cab drew up at the big building on Mulberry Street, and the -superintendent, pushing his prisoner before him, led the way to his -private room. “Now, Marsh, you say you have been living straight. Prove -it and I’ll release you.” - -The man eyed his captor sullenly. “Not till I’ve seen a lawyer,” he said. - -Walton touched an electric button. “Lock this man up,” he said to the -officer who appeared. As Marsh was led away the chief pushed another -button. “Bring me,” he said to the messenger, “Convictions, letter M, -’84.” - -Hastily turning the pages, Walton read: “Marsh, John, alias Gentleman -John, generally known as Chesterfield, because of his manners and -politeness, born at Sodaville, Mich. All round crook; specialty, -counterfeiting United States notes. One of the most dangerous men in his -line. Convicted of counterfeiting and sentenced to Albany for five years -in 1870; sent to Jackson, Mich., for three years for forgery in 1878; -last conviction, Joliet, counterfeiting, 1884, five years. See page 756.” -Turning to the page indicated, Walton read: “Escaped from Joliet and -committed suicide.” - -“So he didn’t commit suicide,” mused the chief. “Well, I always had my -doubts about it. I have an idea he had a hand in this counterfeiting -business, and if that’s so it’s a pretty good morning’s work—almost as -good as finding the Marchburn woman. I had better let Brixton know about -this; it may give him a pointer.” - -A clerk brought in a telegram and handed it to the superintendent. Walton -read: - - “SODAVILLE, MICH., Jan. 24.—Can you mail me at once portrait of - Chesterfield Marsh, escaped Joliet, and committed suicide about - 1884? - - “RICHARDSON.” - -“By Jove,” said the superintendent, “that’s curious. I wonder what he’s -struck now. Well, I guess I’ll hang onto Chesterfield for a few days, -anyway.” Then he telephoned to Brixton, who was now working night and day -on the counterfeit money case, which divided public attention with the -Marchburn mystery. To the police these cases had proved two of the most -remarkable criminal problems they had ever been called upon to solve. -Congress had added to the excitement by adopting the recommendation of -the Secretary of the Treasury and offering a reward of fifty thousand -dollars for the arrest and conviction of the counterfeiters. - -Brixton came in dejectedly in answer to the summons. To Walton, who was -an old friend, he admitted that he was beaten. - -“Brace up, old man,” said Walton; “I’ve got something good for you,” and -he at once told him of the arrest of Marsh and Richardson’s telegram. - -A gleam of excitement blazed from the secret service man’s eyes. He -jumped from his chair and paced the room a couple of times before he -could control himself; then, leaning over his friend’s desk, he talked -rapidly. “By jove, Walton, you’ve got our man. There is only one man -in the country who could have done the job, and that’s Marsh. I have -thought about him a dozen times since I’ve been at work on the case, but -always supposed him to be dead. What a confounded idiot I am not to have -investigated that suicide story; yet I never had reason to doubt it.” - -Both men felt certain that they were at last hot on the right trail, and -that Marsh was still engaged in his old business of counterfeiting. While -discussing the next move to be made Brixton suddenly said: “What does -Richardson’s telegram mean?” - -The words produced a peculiar effect upon Walton, which was reflected in -Brixton’s face. Both men scrutinized each other for a brief space of time -without speaking. It was as if they were grappling with the same thought, -and yet both were afraid to frame in words what was passing through their -minds. It was Walton who at last broke the silence and in a nervous sort -of way said:— - -“That is absurd.” - -“What is?” - -“What you are thinking about.” - -It was curious that neither man had openly expressed his thoughts, and -yet each knew what was in the other’s mind just as well as if the words -had been uttered. - -“I don’t know about that. Of course it looks ridiculous to commence with, -but not any more so than that West Virginia case.” - -“I don’t remember that,” said Walton. - -“It was one of my most interesting jobs. For months we had been trying -to break up a gang of counterfeiters working in West Virginia, and had -failed, just as in the present instance. The thing looked pretty bad, -and the merchants of the State were so worked up about the ‘queer’ that -a bill was introduced in the legislature authorizing the governor to -employ private detectives, as the government secret service men had shown -their incompetence. Before the bill was acted upon we arrested some of -the gang, and on the day when the bill came up for action we obtained -conclusive evidence that the member of the legislature who introduced -the bill was the brains of the gang. I went to the capitol and listened -to this man’s speech in support of his measure, and after the bill had -passed I arrested him and found in his pockets some of the money made by -his gang. I sent him over the road.” - -“You think, then,” said Walton, “that Marchburn had some connection with -the counterfeiting gang.” - -“I do.” - -“Did Marsh murder Marchburn?” - -“I don’t know about that. I rather think not, because Chesterfield, from -what we know about him, is a coward and not the man to kill; but he -probably knows who did. There’s a connection between the murder and the -counterfeiting, and when we pull the right string both knots will come -untied.” - -Walton told his associate of his theory as to the murderer being a woman. - -Brixton doubted it. “But it’s of no consequence,” he said. “Whoever fired -the shot was a member of the gang; Marchburn knew him and expected him to -call that evening. When we land our man we shall have the murderer and -the counterfeiter as well.” - -How was Marsh to be made to confess? Numerous plans were discussed and -rejected. Finally Brixton made this suggestion: “Make Chesterfield -understand that he is suspected of the murder and that you have the dots -on him. You’ll have to sweat him and put him through the third degree. -Don’t say a word about the counterfeiting. When he’s charged with the -murder, and things begin to look black, he will squeal to save his neck. -He’ll give his pals away dead sure and tell all he knows about the -counterfeiting. I believe the scheme will work.” - -Walton agreed with him and proceeded without delay in putting his -prisoner through the sweating process. Early in the morning he had read -the papers in his cell, and a detective who secretly watched him noticed -that he devoured every line printed about the Marchburn murder. Later, -the superintendent had him brought to his office and there subjected -him to a rigorous cross-examination, and no man knew better than he how -to worm the truth out of a criminal. But in Marsh he found more than a -match. He either dodged every question or else declined to answer, and -neither threats nor promises elicited anything of importance. For more -than an hour the man submitted to being worried by his inquisitor, when -at last he said: - -“Chief, what are you trying to make against me?” - -Walton had not taxed him with the murder, as he hoped his prisoner would -make some incautious admission which would tell him what he wanted to -find out. But Marsh’s question seemed to have made the time ripe for the -great stroke. Looking him steadily in the eye, the chief said: “For the -murder of Lawrence Marchburn.” - -The prisoner gave a short, nervous laugh. “You’re clean off,” he said. “I -didn’t murder him and I had nothing to do with it; but I know the man who -did.” - -Walton had counted upon his declaration producing a confession, or at -least some signs of weakness, but this answer astounded him. - -The man never flinched. “It’s God’s truth. I can tell you who committed -the murder,” he repeated. - -“Very well; who did it?” - -But Marsh was too old a bird to be caught with chaff. “What do I get if I -tell?” he asked. - -“I think they would like to have you back in Joliet,” the chief answered, -“and that means five years to commence with. If you give me the name of -the man, and it is proven that you had nothing to do with the murder, I -will see that you are not troubled.” - -Marsh appeared to be thinking deeply. “Shall I have to appear as a -witness?” he asked. - -“Not unless it is necessary; I won’t put you on the stand if I can make -the case without you.” - -“Will you release me as soon as you are satisfied you have the right man?” - -“Yes.” - -“Then arrest Frank Richald, who was Mr. Marchburn’s stenographer. He’s -your man.” - -“How do you know?” - -“I won’t tell; but see if I am not right.” - -Walton ordered Marsh back to his cell, somewhat puzzled by the result of -the interview. He did not believe all that Marsh had told him; but the -mention of Richald’s name indicated that he was getting down to the man’s -confederates. There was only one thing to do. The superintendent ordered -Johnson to arrest Richald. He took his arrest quietly. Brought before -Walton, he said, without waiting to be questioned: “I am innocent; but -circumstances are against me.” - -With a quick, sudden movement, Walton seized hold of the corner of the -skirt of Richald’s brown overcoat and intently examined a dark spot on -the front. “Marchburn’s blood,” he said tersely. - -“I know it,” was all the prisoner said. - -“Why did you murder him?” asked Walton. - -“I did not murder him,” he said firmly. “When I reached the office on -the night of the murder Mr. Marchburn was lying dead on his desk. I was -stunned and horrified. I know now I should have given the alarm; but -there were so many strange things in connection with my being there at -that hour that I foolishly imagined my safety lay in flight. Some of Mr. -Marchburn’s blood was on my hand, and I bound my handkerchief around it -to escape observation. To avoid meeting any one I started to walk down -the stairs; then I was afraid the janitor might see me and think it -strange I was walking, so I called the elevator on the floor below our -office and rode down.” - -“What brought you back to the office that evening?” Walton asked. - -“That I cannot tell you.” - -Walton ordered the young man to a cell. - -Next day the papers told of the arrest. They also added something about -the man who stood charged with the crime. Richald was the son of a once -former wealthy New York merchant, whom every one respected. At his death -it was found that his estate was badly involved, and all that was left -to his widow and his two children was a small estate. On the interest of -this Mrs. Richald lived, her son contributing generously of his wages to -her support. Two years before the murder Frank had secured a position -with the Bank Note Company as Mr. Marchburn’s stenographer. - -Walton now bent all his energies to securing a fuller confession from -his prisoner, to ascertaining what had become of the pistol, and the -motive for the crime. His best men were set to work raking over nearly -every hour of Richald’s past life. Meanwhile, at the earnest request -of Brixton, Walton had decided to hold onto Marsh. Walton was pretty -well convinced that, while Marsh did not commit the murder, he had some -connection with it, and was not going to let that elusive individual get -out of his clutches so long as there was a possibility of proving it. -Brixton, on his side, was certain that Marsh was in some way implicated -in the counterfeiting, and proposed to keep his eye upon him until he -could charge him with the crime or bring it home to some one else. The -capture of Marsh seemed like a lucky find. - -On the morning of the second day after Richald’s appearance in court -a carriage drew up in front of the police headquarters, from which a -stately looking elderly gentleman and a tall young woman alighted. The -gentleman asked to see the superintendent. Walton did not need to look at -the card to know his caller, Phineas Yarrow, one of the noted lawyers of -the city. - -The woman was dressed all in black, and was so slight that she seemed -unusually tall when standing alone. She remained closely veiled. - -“This young lady is a friend of Mr. Richald’s,” said the lawyer. “She is -very anxious to speak with the prisoner. I am willing to vouch for all -she says or does.” - -Walton shot a keen glance at the girl. “This is rather unusual,” he said; -“but I will accede to your request, provided, of course, the interview -takes place in my presence.” - -Shortly afterward Richald entered the room, and as he caught sight of the -girl he trembled and appeared dazed. For a moment she hesitated, then, -with a cry which touched the hearts of the older men, she rapidly crossed -the room, threw her arms about the young man’s neck, and kissed him -passionately. - -Whether they were sweetheart and lover, husband and wife, or brother and -sister, Walton had no means for knowing; but that the girl played an -important part in the case he felt certain. Hurriedly writing a line, he -handed it to an officer, and from that time Frank Richald’s visitor was -under the shadow of the law. - -For several minutes the prisoner and his visitor conversed in anxious -whispers; then, going to the lawyer, the young woman said: “After you -have shown me to the carriage Mr. Richald has something important to say -to you. He will tell you everything.” - -“Now tell me all,” said the lawyer, seating himself by the side of -Richald. In eager whispers he told his story. When he had finished the -old lawyer paced up and down the room, showing that he was laboring under -intense excitement. Stopping suddenly, he said: “You must repeat this to -the superintendent, here and now.” - -Without hesitating, Richald in a firm voice commenced his recital—Yarrow -an excited listener, and the superintendent coolly indifferent; but -Richald had spoken for only a few moments when Walton’s studied -indifference gave way and he was soon closely following every word. When -the young man had finished the superintendent leaned across his desk, -and, clasping his hand, said, “I believe you.” - -“But there is no time to be lost,” he continued. Pushing several of the -electric buttons on his desk, he gave his orders to the officers who -appeared. Then, turning, he said, “Mr. Yarrow, will you come back at six -o’clock this evening? And, Mr. Richald, I shall still have to subject you -to my hospitality.” - -That evening the lawyer once more entered the superintendent’s room. He -found Walton and Richald busily engaged in conversation, and with them -was Brixton. “Now we will get to business,” said the superintendent, -seating himself at his desk. - -Into this company Marsh was called. “In the first place,” said the -superintendent, “it may be well to explain that Lawrence Marchburn and -the prisoner were brothers.” Turning to Marsh, he said, “Now tell us your -story.” - -“You know all about me, superintendent,” the man commenced, and his eyes -were fixed upon Walton, as if he alone were present, “and that I have -always been a counterfeiter and a crook. I went crooked very young. My -father was a man of considerable means, and my brother Lawrence, who -was always of a jealous and grasping disposition, worked upon him so -that he refused to have anything to do with me. When he died he left all -his money to Lawrence and cut me off without a penny. When I escaped -from Joliet I determined to make a last appeal to my brother for help. -I reached his house late one night and he received me in his library. -At first he told me never to enter his house again, but during our -conversation he changed his mind, and after he had given me food he said: - -“‘Jack, they tell me you are one of the cleverest counterfeiters in the -country.’ - -“I answered that I believed I had that unenviable reputation. - -“‘Then here’s a scheme. I’m in a pretty tight hole. I have lost a good -deal of money lately in speculation, and I have used some belonging to -an estate. I am going to start a factory to make counterfeits. I shall -have an office in New York and a factory in New Jersey, where we can work -undisturbed and everything will look straight. I have money enough to -start the factory and buy all the machinery. After a year we can retire -with two fortunes and become respectable. If you have any scruples of -conscience I’ll pay your fare back to Joliet.’ - -“Of course I consented. There was nothing else I could do. - -“I fell in love with and married the daughter of my landlady, and when -the baby came she was the happiest woman in the world, and I—” Marsh -passed his hand across his face and there was a catch in his voice which -showed the struggle he was making to remain calm. - -“Well, I was determined to quit the whole business and live straight. I -told this to Lawrence, and that I wanted my share of the money he was -keeping for me. We had a dispute, but settled it by my agreeing to remain -another six months. - -“Just before the time was up he went to my wife and told her I was an -escaped convict, but that he was trying to get things fixed so I need -not fear arrest. He warned her not to allow me to go away, as that -would be dangerous. She told me all. Then I resolved to end the matter -at once. When he next came to the factory he told me that Richald, his -stenographer, had discovered what we were doing, and would give the snap -away. He said something must be done to close Richald’s mouth until he -could close up the factory and clear out. He pretended to be fully as -frightened as I was, and I was badly scared, for I did not at last want -to be lagged. So I agreed to do whatever he thought best. - -“He sent for me to come to New York. It had been arranged that I should -go to his office, knock three times on the door, and if the clerks were -all gone my brother would open it. After he had done so, he said, in the -most cold-blooded way, that Richald would be there in a quarter of an -hour; that we must get him to go to the factory, and on the way there, in -a lonely spot, shoot him. He would make it appear that Richald had stolen -some bonds, and when his body was found it would look like suicide. I -told him that, whatever had been my past life, _I_ would not commit -murder. He cursed me for a coward, and said he would have me sent back to -jail. I defied and left him.” - -“Now,” said the superintendent, turning to Richald, “will you tell your -story?” - -“Two years ago,” began Richald, who was trembling with excitement, caused -by Marsh’s recital, “I was engaged as stenographer by Mr. Marchburn, and -shortly after became engaged to his daughter, the young lady who was -here to-day. A few months ago we were secretly married, and about that -time I accidentally overheard a conversation between Mr. Marchburn and -his brother, which put me in possession of the colossal plot to swindle -the government. I was in doubt as to my duty in the matter, but finally -concluded to tell Mr. Marchburn what I knew. He declared that Marsh was -the real head of the conspiracy, but, owing to circumstances, he had -been unable to extricate himself from his clutches; he would, however, -close up the factory as soon as possible. On the day of the murder Mr. -Marchburn made an appointment for me at his office. Before leaving -for New Jersey he handed me a package which he said contained several -thousand dollars in negotiable securities, which he intended to have -taken to his bank, but had forgotten to do so, and requested that I bring -it back to the office later. - -“I was a few minutes late in keeping my appointment, and when I entered -Mr. Marchburn’s room I found him dead. It flashed across my mind that -I might be accused of the murder; that it would be difficult for me -to account for the securities, and in explaining my presence in the -office I should have to reveal the conspiracy, which, for the sake of -Mr. Marchburn’s daughter, I was reluctant to do. Yielding to a sudden -impulse, I left the office, without raising an alarm. And—” - -Just then an electric bell rang and the superintendent put his ear to -a tube that hung above his chair. As he listened his face flushed. He -looked up and, with an accent of conviction that caused Marsh to move -uneasily in his chair, exclaimed: “Gentlemen, at last the missing link is -at hand!” - -The next moment the door was thrown open and an officer ushered in -a middle-aged man with a traveling-bag in his hand. Stooping over -the superintendent’s chair, the officer engaged him in a whispered -conversation. As he proceeded, a look of triumph shone in the -superintendent’s eyes. Swinging around suddenly in his chair toward -Marsh, he asked abruptly: “Marsh, did you ever see this man before?” For -several moments the prisoner, with eager curiosity, eyed the new-comer -from head to foot. Then, turning to the superintendent, he said, with -attempted composure, but with that tell-tale falsetto break in his voice, -“No, I never saw him—” - -“That’s the man!” cried the stranger, advancing and pointing excitedly to -the prisoner. “I could tell his voice among a million.” Then, turning to -Walton, he continued breathlessly, “Mr. Superintendent, on the evening -of the murder I was in my insurance office in Temple Court. I had just -been called to the bedside of my sick wife in Florida and rang up the -sleeping-car office in Jersey City to engage a berth. I couldn’t get -the connection, as the wires were crossed. I rang again and again, but, -instead of getting a reply from the central office, I heard a violent -quarrel going on between two men. One of them threatened to call the -police, and the other shouted, ‘If you do that I’ll shoot you.’ Indeed, -I did hear what sounded like the muffled report of a pistol. At that -moment I was connected by the central office, and thought no more of the -matter until I was seated in the cars an hour later. Then, in recalling -the affair, it occurred to me that possibly I had overheard a scrap of -a theatrical rehearsal, because the voice of the man who threatened to -shoot had a stagy sort of falsetto break in it. And it wasn’t until I was -overtaken three days ago by New York papers containing full accounts of -the Marchburn murder that I knew that I held the clue to the mystery. An -hour later I was on the way to New York and came directly here from the -train. - -“Gentlemen,” said the stranger, pausing impressively and pointing to the -cowering figure of the prisoner, “that is the man whose voice I heard -over the telephone. I heard him speak. I heard him threaten. I heard him -rush across the floor. I heard him fire the fatal shot. It was he who -murdered Lawrence Marchburn!” - -Four months later the jury gave the same verdict. - -[Illustration] - - - - -Their Colonial Villa. - -BY CHARLES BARNARD. - -The right to dramatize is reserved by the author. - - -“It is very inconvenient to be obliged to live in one place all the time. -If we had two houses, we could spend part of the time in one and part of -the time in the other.” - -Young Mrs. Arburton was one of those fortunate brides who are able to set -up housekeeping immediately on the return from the wedding journey. Young -Mr. Arburton thought it best to build or buy a small house and to furnish -and occupy it as soon as possible. - -“Of course, my love, I see how important it is that the house should be -close down by the river bank near your office, so that you can come home -to lunch, and I do so enjoy seeing the steamboats pass on the river.” - -“Good idea. I must be handy to business.” - -“And at the same time, you must see, John, that I’ve always lived at the -court end of the town, on the bluff overlooking the river and near the -shops and the homes of the best people. That’s why I think it would be so -nice if we could have two houses, one down by the river near your office, -and one in town, on the Heights and near the churches and all the nice -people. We could live every other week in each house.” - -They were staying at her mother’s on the Heights, pending the purchase or -erection of the new house. Mrs. Arburton had advanced this happy thought -of having two homes at the breakfast table. The idea pleased her mother -greatly, and she remarked to her son-in-law that, in her opinion, it was -an excellent arrangement. She would gladly live in the uptown house and -take care of it while they were spending the week in the other house down -by the river. - -“My love, we must do it. We never need move anything, for you could keep -a suit of clothes in each house. I’m sure I shall never be happy to live -down on the riverside. There’s really nobody living there, and still I -never, never can be happy if you are not able to come home to lunch.” - -Young Mr. Arburton quite agreed with his wife and her mother. It would be -very desirable to live on the bluff, two hundred feet above the river, -and very desirable to live immediately below, down by the boat landing -and near the office. It would be very convenient to live in two places at -the same time. How to do it was the problem. - -Immediately after breakfast young Mr. Arburton started off to business. -To reach the lower level of the city, where his office and his great -lumber yards stood close by the river, and almost immediately under the -lofty bluff on which the new or upper town was built, he was obliged to -take a trolley car that slid swiftly down a long iron viaduct or inclined -plane. There had been at one time, before the days of the trolley, a -more direct, but much slower method of reaching the lower town. This was -a sort of huge hoist or elevator, upon which the horse-cars were slowly -dragged up and down by means of a cable. At present, this route was -seldom used, as it was, in the opinion of the general public, altogether -too dilatory transit. - -Business was quiet that day, and Mr. Arburton had ample opportunity to -consider the problem of keeping house in two places at the same time. He -felt sure he must gratify his wife’s natural desire to live in town, and -he was equally sure he must reside in the immediate neighborhood of his -yard and its great interests. It was very like the ancient question as to -what would happen if a body, moving with perfectly irresistible momentum, -were to meet a perfectly immovable body. - -He returned home that night quite radiant. He had solved the question. - -“It is all right, my love. It can be done.” - -“Oh! I felt sure you would see that my idea was admirable. Which house -shall you build first—the one on the Heights or the house down by the -river?” - -“Both can be built at the same time.” - -“Well, dear, of course, you see the house up here in this fashionable -quarter must lie much larger and nicer than the house down by those -horrid lumber yards. I shan’t mind if the lower house is a plain little -box. No one will ever call there, and any simple, inexpensive, wooden -cottage will answer. Besides, while we are staying down there I shall not -receive at all, and I shall have my cards marked with our uptown address.” - -“Very well,” remarked Mr. Arburton; “I’ll see the architect. I dare say -it can be fixed.” - -Mrs. Arburton and her mother were delighted, and when Mr. Arburton -suggested that he wished the new house— - -“You mean the new houses, dear.” - -“We’ll waive that—it’s only a detail—our future domiciles are to be a -surprise.” - -“How lovely in you, dear. You mean you intend to build and furnish them -complete without letting me see them?” - -“That’s about the idea. Leave it all to me.” - -“Then, my love, mother and I will visit Aunt Sarah in New York for a -month.” - -Mr. Arburton was hardly prepared for this. To lose his young wife for two -months was not a wholly pleasant prospect. However, he expressed himself -as resigned; for he would be very busy building and furnishing the new -house. - -“You mean our new houses, dear. I declare it is an inspiration. We can -spend every other week in society and have the other week to rest in -peace and be by ourselves, quite out of the world.” - -The next day young Mrs. Arburton and her mother started for New York, -and young Mr. Arburton went to the office of the defunct horse railroad -company to see about a house lot, it being reported that they had real -estate to sell—cheap. - -Thirty-two days later young Mrs. Arburton and her mother returned. It was -dark when they arrived, and of course they went at once to their former -home. Naturally the return of the young wife had a most happy effect upon -the young husband. He was lively, was merry, and seemed to be immensely -amused over the prospect of moving at once into the new house. - -“Is it all done?” cried both ladies, “and so soon?” - -“Oh, it don’t take long to knock up a house in these days. We can move in -to-night. Everything is ready for you.” - -“Which house shall we live in first?” - -“Take your choice.” - -“Then I’ll spend the first week in the uptown house.” - -“All right. I thought so. As soon as you have had supper we’ll go over -there.” - -“Is it far from here?” - -“No. Only a short walk. I thought you might like to be near your mother.” - -“My love, you are an angel!” - -This remark clearly indicated an unstable frame of mind, and further -reports of the conversation may be cheerfully omitted. - -About nine o’clock the young couple started, satchels in hand, to take -possession of their new home on the Heights. Mrs. Arburton was charmed. -It was just what she wanted, a pretty two-story colonial villa at the end -of a broad avenue, and close to the edge of the bluff overlooking the -river. The parlor was small, but exquisite, the dining-room cozy, the -kitchen perfection. - -“Oh, and the view from the chamber window! Isn’t it grand? Why, the -house must be on the very edge of the bluff. My love, you have made me -perfectly happy. It is such a pretty house, and right in the very best -neighborhood.” - -The next morning, immediately after breakfast, Mr. Arburton remarked that -he would come home to lunch. - -“Oh, no, dear. I wouldn’t think of it. It’s too far to come way up here -just for lunch. I’ll put up a little basket for you.” - -“It will not take me two minutes to run over here from the office. I’ll -come home at noon.” - -This he said as they stood at the kitchen door. - -“What on earth are you talking about—” - -She would have said more, but just at that moment her husband opened -the back door and stepped out into the dusty road that led to his -lumber yard. Mrs. Arburton stood by the door, looking up and down the -commonplace road, at the towering piles of lumber across the way, at the -tall stacks of a passing steamboat, just visible over the lumber heaps. - -She kissed her husband in a mechanical way, and then closed the door -and went to her chamber and sat down by the window. Clearly this was -the lower town. There had been some mistake. She finished her morning -household duties and dressed to go out. Leaving the house by the most -convenient way, she crossed the street, and, turning back, looked at -the house. It was a plain, three-story wooden house, and in every way -suitable for such a commonplace business neighborhood. - -“I must have been dreaming about that colonial villa. I’ll go and call on -mother.” - -She took the trolley car up the great incline to the upper town and went -to her mother’s house. The moment she arrived her mother began to ask -about the new house. - -“Oh, it’s just a plain, three-story, wooden affair down by the lumber -yard.” - -“I thought you were to occupy the uptown house first.” - -“Yes, I thought so, too; but we stayed last night in the lower town.” - -Promptly at noon, just as the big whistle roared its hoarse summons to -rest, Mrs. Arburton returned to her humble dwelling in the lower town. -Lunch was served at once, and then her husband returned to business, -leaving his wife alone in the new house. She explored it thoroughly, -and felt sure that the parlor and dining-room were the same as she had -dreamed about the night before. At six o’clock Mr. Arburton returned to -dinner, and after that he proposed that they make a few calls on friends -in the upper town. - -“Oh, no, not to-night. It’s too far and we shall be so late getting back -again.” - -“Nonsense, my dear. Put on your things and I’ll be ready in two minutes.” - -Five minutes later young Mrs. Arburton appeared arrayed in her best. - -“I suppose the nearest way is to go out the back door.” - -“What’s the use of a front door if we do not use it?” said her husband. -So saying, he opened the front door and led her out into the brilliantly -lighted avenue in the upper town. - -Mrs. Arburton was perplexed. She took her husband’s arm and walked on for -a few steps in silence. Then she stopped and looked back at the house. It -was the colonial villa of her dream. Was it a dream? She wanted to ask -questions, but wisely said nothing. The young couple spent the evening -in calling, and then returned to their home. - -Early the next morning Mrs. Arburton drew up the curtains of her room and -looked out. There, far below, were the river and the lower town. It was -not a dream. - -Then for a week nothing in particular happened. Mrs. Arburton was -entirely happy in her charming colonial villa. Her mother called and -admired everything. - -“I suppose next week you will bury yourselves in the lower town. Of -course your other house cannot be equal to this lovely place.” - -“I don’t know, I’m sure. I haven’t seen it yet.” - -“Why, my child, you told me it was a plain three-story affair. You said -you stayed there that first night.” - -“Did I? I must have been dreaming.” - -The next morning young Mrs. Arburton began to wonder if her mind had -given way. She was awakened by the hoarse boom of the lumber yard -whistle. She drew up her curtain and pulled it down, again quickly. The -street was full of teams. She pinched her arm. She looked at the mantel -clock. No; she was awake. Being a wise woman, she said nothing, and after -breakfast she bade her husband good-by at the back door. - -“I’ll run over to lunch, dear.” - -“Very well, Mr. Arburton.” - -He looked at her with a peculiar smile. - -“What’s the matter, love? Are you offended?” - -“Oh, dear, no! I’m a little—a little confused, that’s all. I’ll go and -call on mother. I’ll feel better—for a walk.” - -“Yes, do. Take the trolley back to town.” - -She did, and the moment she reached the broad avenues of the upper city -she left the car and stood irresolute on the sidewalk. - -“I wish I had been more observing. Let me see. There was a row of trees -on each side, and the houses were all of Milwaukee brick.” - -She wandered up and down several streets and avenues looking for the -colonial villa. - -“It was so stupid in me not to know the street and number of our own -house. If I knew that I could ask a policeman. I declare, I was never so -turned round in my life. This looks like the neighborhood—and yet—” - -She gave it up in despair and took the trolley back to her home in the -lower town. Then for several days nothing happened. Mrs. Arburton tried -to be happy and failed miserably. Her husband, of course, observed it, -and said at the dinner table: - -“My love, I fear you do not enjoy being down here among these lumber -yards and shops. After dinner we’ll go up town.” - -She was delighted. When she reached the Heights she would ask him to take -her to the other house. Immediately after dinner she went to her room to -put on her hat. When she came down again she found her husband calmly -reading in the drawing-room. - -“I thought we were going to the Heights, dear.” - -He looked up in some surprise, and, instead of replying, asked if she -wished to go out. - -“Yes. I do. I—I want to go to mother’s.” - -“Certainly, my love. I’ll go with you.” - -A moment later he was ready, and calmly opened the front door and led her -out into the broad, familiar avenue in the upper town. - -She stood bewildered on the stoop, and looked at the street, at the -lemon-colored houses opposite, and at the colonial villa behind her. - -“What are you waiting for, dear?” - -“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering where we live.” - -“Why, how absent you are, dear. This is our uptown house.” - -It was all right. The other house was the dream. They spent a pleasant -evening with her mother, and then they returned home. It was indeed all -right, and just as it should be. She had certainly eaten something that -was not best for her, or she would not have dreamed three times about -the house by the river. Under the assurance of a stable residence in one -place Mrs. Arburton’s spirits rose, and her health visibly improved. She -resolved never to mention her absurd dream about the other house. She -felt sure that it had never been built—and yet! Oh! she would not think -about it any more. She would enjoy the happy present in her lovely -colonial villa in the fashionable quarter of the town. - -Mr. Arburton never came home to lunch now. He started off very early -every morning, and was always late to dinner. It was not in young Mrs. -Arburton’s nature to ignore this long. - -“My love,” she said one stormy night when he came home tired, cold, and -hungry, “My love, if the other house is finished we might go there and -stay till this stormy weather is over. I miss you dreadfully at lunch, -and it’s such a pity to let you travel so far in the rain.” - -“All right, my dear. It would be better to go back again.” - -“Back again!” Then it was not a dream. - -The next morning young Mrs. Arburton was convinced that her mind was -entirely unhinged. She did not dare to mention it to her husband. She -went about her morning duties mechanically. They were in the lower town -house. She knew the smell of the lumber yards only too well. - -The thing was unbearable. She would settle the matter or perish in the -attempt. The moment her husband had gone to his office she put on her -things, took the trolley, and went up to the Heights. She found the -avenue without the slightest difficulty. The colonial villa had totally -disappeared. She asked a policeman if he had seen a white villa in the -neighborhood. The man grinned broadly and said he guessed it was off duty. - -She turned away indignant. What did the insolent creature mean? Nothing -was to be gained by waiting there, and she took the trolley back home. On -reaching the lower town she lost her way for the first time in her life. -She wandered past several lumber yards, looking for that three-story -house, and could not find it. Once she felt sure she had reached the -spot—the house was not there. Thoroughly alarmed at what she regarded as -her serious mental condition, she went at once to her husband’s office. - -“Mr. Arburton is here?” - -“No, ma’am. He started to go up to the Heights on business, and said he -should stay to lunch at his house.” - -That explained everything. The house by the lumber yards was simply a -fancy of her disordered brain. She would go at once to their villa-home -on the Heights. On arriving there she was not able to find it. Now -thoroughly alarmed, she decided to go to her mother’s. Both her homes had -disappeared, perhaps forever. She put her hand to her fevered brow. It -was icy cold. She trembled as if chilled with terror. - -“To think that beautiful home was all a wild fancy—to think I’ve lost -that dear, homely, lovely, hideous house by the lumber yards. I fairly -loved it. I’ll never stir out of it again—not even to find that colonial -villa. And my husband, too,—he may be a fancy—a mere phantom—” - -She looked at her wedding ring. - -“No. I suppose he is real—” - -She stood silent and tearful, looking off over the vast prospect spread -out below her. The avenue ended at the very edge of the bluff and gave a -magnificent view over the river and valley below—the very view she had -dreamed she saw from that chamber window— - -Suddenly a picturesque chimney appeared above the edge of the bluff. -Then two pretty finials of wrought iron. Then a red roof appeared. Was -she dreaming—or—? A number of people on the sidewalk stopped to view the -remarkable spectacle. She heard a policeman remark aloud: - -“The quare house is going on duty agin.” - -The colonial villa stood before her. The front door opened and her -husband appeared. - -“Lunch is ready, love. Come in as soon as you can, as I want to move back -to the lower town.” - -“My dear! Am I crazy—?” - -“Guess not. Where have you been all this time?” - -“But, love!” she cried, “is my mind unbalanced?” - -“Guess not. You seem reasonable.” - -“Is this our uptown house?” - -“Certainly, dear. Do come in to lunch.” - -“Then where is—the other house?” - -“Right here. Do come into the house, dear. The elevator boy is in a hurry -to move her back again, as he can’t go to dinner till we are safe at the -bottom of the hill.” - -Young Mrs. Arburton entered her uptown house and closed the door. When -in the privacy of her colonial dining-room she kissed her husband with -enthusiasm. - -“My love! It is distinctly great. How does it work?” - -“Touch the button in the kitchen once, and the elevator boy will move her -up. Touch twice and he will let her down again. You see, dear, I found it -was not convenient to live in two houses at the same time, so I bought -the old horse-car elevator and put a house in the car.” - -“But, my love—the colonial villa and the cheap three-story frame house.” - -“Oh! That’s all right. The front is early colonial, the back is recent -American, as befits the two landings on the elevator.” - -“How perfectly lovely. When I don’t want to be at home to the people on -the Heights I live below, and when I’m tired of the lumber yard people -I’ll live at the top.” - -“Yes. And when we don’t want to see anybody, we can stop her half way. -Come. Let’s have lunch while she slides down.” - -[Illustration] - - - - -ADVERTISEMENTS - - -=Mrs. Jack Frost= doesn’t mind the cold, not a bit! - -Why _should_ she when her skirt and coat are lined with SPONGE CRÉPON -which makes her so stylish to look upon, and keeps her as warm as a -toast? She uses the “Red Selvedge” brand of Sponge Crépon with the famous -linen net interweaving that makes it so light that you wouldn’t know it -was there if it wasn’t for the beauty and comfort it gives. - -Copyright ap’d for. - -We’ll send our booklet, “France—the Mother of Fashions,” and free -samples, if you’ll write. - - Sponge Cloth Mfg. Co., P. O. Box 160, Lockport, N. Y., Makers. - Gilbert Mfg. Co., Dept. W., 514-516 Broadway, New York, Sole Agents. - -When writing please mention THE BLACK CAT. - - * * * * * - -AYER’S - -The blossom of beauty roots in the blood. - -The blemishes of beauty,—pimples, blotches, eruptions,—can be removed by -purifying the blood with - - AYER’S SARSAPARILLA. - -Curebook No. 1 tells about it. Free. J.C. Ayer Co., Lowell, Mass. - - * * * * * - -THE BOSTON HERALD. - -New England’s Greatest Newspaper. - -The New England advertising field is the best on this continent. - -In this great field The Boston Herald stands supreme. Its circulation, -character, and influence make it the ideal newspaper. - -Its Purchasing Power is Unequalled. - - * * * * * - -10 times out of 10 - -The New York Journal recently offered ten bicycles to the ten winners in -a guessing contest, leaving the choice of machine to each. - -ALL OF THEM CHOSE - -Columbia Bicycles - -_STANDARD OF THE WORLD_ - -Nine immediately, and one after he had looked at others. And the Journal -bought Ten Columbias. Paid $100 each for them. - -On even terms a Columbia will be chosen TEN times out of TEN - - POPE MANUFACTURING CO. HARTFORD, CONN. - -1896 Art Catalogue free from the Columbia agent; by mail for two 2-cent -stamps. - - * * * * * - -Consumption - -AND ITS CURE - -TO THE EDITOR:—I have an absolute remedy for Consumption. 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I. - - * * * * * - -American People Read Standard Newspapers - -That’s why - -The Boston Daily Standard - -Has the LARGEST CIRCULATION of any REPUBLICAN NEWSPAPER in New England, a - -Fact - -THAT ANY NEWSDEALER WILL PROVE. - -Its CONSTANTLY INCREASING advertising patronage shows for itself how - -It Pays - -To interest STANDARD readers. If you are not one, WHY NOT? - -Send for sample copy. - - * * * * * - -ESSEX - -10c. Feeds 10 Plants 1 year. Ask your dealer for the _10c._ package. - -If he does not keep it send us 16c. in stamps, and we will send it by -return mail. - -Flower Food FOR House Plants AND Window Gardens - - Latest - Cheapest - Best - -Produces Healthy growth and Generous flowering. - - Russia Cement Co. - GLOUCESTER, MASS. - - * * * * * - -_Waverley_ BICYCLES. - -ARE THE CHOICE OF EXPERIENCED RIDERS, - -Those who have learned to know the difference between a wheel that -actually is high grade, and one that is simply claimed to be. Others may -be good, but the Waverley is the =Highest of all High Grades=. =REWARD= -of a new Waverley Scorcher is offered to each person who recovers a -stolen ’96 Waverley during 1896, payable upon presentation to us of -satisfactory proof of the facts and the sentence of the thief. This -reward is open to every one excepting the owner of the stolen wheel, but -is not payable to more than one person in any case. - - ART CATALOGUE FREE BY MAIL. INDIANA BICYCLE CO., INDIANAPOLIS, IND. - - * * * * * - -The Black Cat - -FOR - -April, 1896, - -Will contain the following - -Stories _THAT ARE_ Stories. - -All original, all copyrighted, all complete, all “captivating tales -cleverly told,” and - -ALL FOR 5 CENTS. - -=The Mystery of the Thirty Millions.=—By T. F. ANDERSON and H. D. -UMBSTAETTER. A startling recital of the unparalleled adventures of the -ocean steamer, _Oklahoma_, whose disappearance with 643 human souls and -thirty millions of gold, threw two continents into a fever of excitement. - -=The Man at Solitaria.=—By GEIK TURNER. A realistic account of how the -Man at Solitaria, single-handed and alone, ran the Great Western Railroad -System to suit himself. - -=The Compass of Fortune.=—By EUGENE SHADE BISBEE. The weirdly impressive -tale of a man guided by sightless eyes to an independent fortune. - -=A Surgical Love Cure.=—By JAMES BUCKHAM. An up-to-date remedy for the -love fever, and its unexpected results. - -=The Williamson Safe Mystery.=—By COL. F. S. HESSELTINE. In this absorbing -tale is presented for the first time, the solution of one of the most -daring and inexplicable series of burglaries ever conceived. - -=How Small the World.=—By E. H. MAYDE. A triangular love story in which, -by means of a common confidant, two young people who hate each other in -Massachusetts are brought to love each other in Colorado. - -The Black Cat is sold by Newsdealers. If yours hasn’t it, and won’t get -it for you, _get another newsdealer_. If you haven’t a dealer, send -us fifty cents and we will mail you for a whole year, The Black Cat, -postpaid. The Shortstory Publishing Co., Boston, Mass. - - * * * * * - -THE APEX OF Bicycle Perfection - -is represented in the Monarch. All the bicycle goodness that the -best bicycle makers know is incorporated in this king of wheels. No -chronometer could be made with more care, or with greater accuracy. -Every part of the Monarch is in perfect harmony with all other parts. -So perfect is the distribution of weight, so accurate the adjustment of -gear, that the Monarch will outspeed, outlast, outrival, any wheel on the -market to-day. - -Made in 4 models. =$80= and =$100=. For children and adults who want a -lower priced wheel the =Defiance= is made in 8 models, =$40=, =$50=, -=$60= and =$75=. Send for the Monarch book. - - MONARCH CYCLE MFG. CO., Lake, Halsted & Fulton Sts., CHICAGO. - 83 Reade St., New York. - - * * * * * - -A Roll of Braid - -is a little thing, but there is a place in the world where they make a -good many million rolls every year. It’s a small place—its biggest boast -being two capitals and the greatest braid factory on the earth. In fact, -to say “Rhode Island,” is to think “Goff’s Braids.” No matter what part -of the land you visit, there you find =Goff’s Dress Braids=. Face your -dress skirts with =GOFF’S BRAID=, which is the best made. Sample roll, -any shade, for four 2-cent stamps. - -D. GOFF & SONS, Pawtucket, R. I. - - * * * * * - -RIDGE’S FOOD FOR INFANTS AND INVALIDS - -THE MOST RELIABLE FOOD IN THE WORLD FOR INFANTS AND CHILDREN - -SOLD BY DRUGGISTS - -THE BEST DIET FOR INVALIDS AND OLD PEOPLE - -FOUR SIZES .35 .65 1.25 1.75 - -_Woolrich & Co._ ON EVERY LABEL - - * * * * * - - Wheeling at night - With the “Search Light” - - —IS A PLEASURE. - -SEARCH LIGHT - -for ’96. - -The Flame Cannot Jar Out.—The new patent method of attaching the Lantern -to the wheel makes this an impossibility. - -Burns either Kerosene or Benzine, and the packed reservoir prevents the -spilling of oil. - -The Polished Reflectors are so protected that they cannot become -blackened or tarnished. - -A Combination of Lenses makes most intense and penetrating light. - -THE ONLY strictly First Class Bicycle Lantern on the market. - -_WE LEAD_, all others follow; compare all other Bicycle Lanterns with the -“Search Light,” and you will agree that _They Are All Behind_. - -Of all Cycle Dealers or delivered free for price, $5.00. - - Bridgeport Brass Company, BRIDGEPORT, CONN., - or, 19 Murray Street, N. Y. - - * * * * * - -The Traveler - -Is the Only Boston Member of the Associated Press.... - -It Publishes More News, More Pictures, More Stories, More Special -Features, More Advertisements, and has More Push, More Independence, and -More Growth than any other Boston One Cent Newspaper. - -A Modern Newspaper At a Modern Price. - -One Year’s Growth - - The Traveler’s Circulation Gain 139 Per Cent. - The Traveler’s Advertising Gain 145 Per Cent. - The Traveler’s Gain in Number of Advts. 363 Per Cent. - -Are You Reading It? - -Eight to Sixteen Pages. One Cent a Copy, Six Cents a Week, Twenty-five -Cents a Month, Three Dollars a Year. - - * * * * * - -CLIMBING METEOR. - -GREATEST OF ALL NEW ROSES. - -=CLIMBING METEOR=, now offered for the first time, is really a =Perpetual -Blooming Climbing General Jacqueminot=. Though a sport from that finest -of all Hybrid Teas, Meteor, it is much larger and of a deeper, richer -color, equalled only by the peerless Jacqueminot, and will produce -twenty blossoms to Jacqueminot’s one. It is a Rose which will make 10 to -15 feet of growth in a season and show a profusion of bloom every day. -Foliage strong, healthy and luxuriant. Buds exquisite: flowers large, -beautifully shaped, and of that rich, dark, velvety crimson color seen -only in the Jacqueminot. We do not hesitate to pronounce it the finest -Rose in existence for summer blooming, as it will make a large growth and -is loaded with its glorious blossoms from May until November. For winter -blooming it has no equal in beauty or profusion. Just the Rose to train -up in a conservatory or bay-window, where its exquisite blossoms will -show to wonderful advantage every day, summer or winter. Quite hardy, and -will produce more flowers than a dozen ordinary Roses. - -=PRICE=: Strong, well rooted, healthy plants, for abundant blooming at -once, =30c. each; four for $1.00; nine for $2.00.= By mail, postpaid, -guaranteed to arrive in good order. - -6 EXQUISITE NOVELTIES for 20c., postpaid, as follows: Cupid Dwarf Sweet -Pea, Scarlet Pansies, Weeping Palm, Margaret Carnation, Giant White -Scented Verbena, and Dwarf Flowering Canna. - -1 LITTLE GEM DWARF CALLA, grows only 8 inches high; perpetual bloomer; -most exquisite pot plant, postpaid, for 25c.; 3 for 50c. - -12 LOVELY NAMED GLADIOLUS for only 25c. postpaid; each bulb correctly -labeled, fine colors, white, pink, yellow, scarlet, blush, blotched, -striped. - -1 JAPANESE GOLDEN MAYBERRY, grows 6 to 8 feet high, hardy, branching -like a tree; bears great golden berries of luscious quality, which ripen -earlier than Strawberries. 25c.; 3 for 50c.; postpaid. - -_Or everything above offered, including Rose, for 75c., postpaid. Order -Now._ - -=Our Great Catalogue= of Flower and Vegetable Seeds, Bulbs, Plants -and Rare New Fruits is the finest ever issued; 136 pages, profusely -illustrated with elegant cuts and colored plates. We offer the choicest -standard sorts and finest Novelties. We are headquarters for all that -is New, Rare and Beautiful. Do not miss Rudbeckia Golden Glow, Giant -Imperial Japanese Morning Glories, New Cannas, Chrysanthemums, Mayberry, -Tree Strawberry, and other great Novelties. Mailed for =10 Cents=, or -=FREE= if you order any of the above articles. Address _JOHN LEWIS -CHILDS, Floral Park, N. Y._ - - * * * * * - -For Flowers Indoors. - -Bowker’s Flower Food. - -A rich, concentrated fertilizer, odorless, made from chemicals; applied -in solution once or twice a month makes house plants grow vigorously and -blossom profusely. - - A small spoonful for a 2 inch pot. - A larger spoonful for a 4 inch pot. - Enough for 30 plants, 3 months, 25c. - For a whole year, 50c. - -We pay the postage and send a book on “Window Gardening” free with each -package. - - BOWKER FERTILIZER CO., - 27 Beaver Street, New York. - 43 Chatham Street, Boston. - - * * * * * - -Stock Buyers and Bankers - -Take care of money—subject to check—give interest on deposits. - -Buy and sell for cash or margin ONLY the securities listed on New York -Stock Exchange - -Investors of money - -Givers of stock information, by mail or wire. - -A member of our firm always on floor of Stock Exchange. - - Wayland Trask & Co., - 18 Wall St., New York. - - * * * * * - -Every reader of “The Black Cat” should read the very remarkable Novel, - -A SINGULAR LIFE, - -the Last and the Greatest Story by ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS, author of -“The Gates Ajar,” “Jack the Fisherman,” etc. - -Miss Lilian Whiting says: “No American novel since ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’ -has approached ‘A Singular Life.’” - -Price, $1.25. Sold by all Booksellers. Sent, postpaid, by - - HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO., - 4 Park St., Boston, Mass. - -Send for a circular containing what the Press says about this wonderful -story. - - * * * * * - -USED EVERY WEEK DAY - -SAPOLIO - -BRINGS REST ON SUNDAY. - -Armstrong & Co. Boston, Mass. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK CAT, VOL. I, NO. 6, -MARCH 1896 *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Black Cat, Vol. I, No. 6, March 1896</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Various</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: September 10, 2022 [eBook #68955]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: hekula03 and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This book was produced from images made available by the HathiTrust Digital Library.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK CAT, VOL. I, NO. 6, MARCH 1896 ***</div> - -<h1>The Black Cat</h1> - -<div class="figcenter illowp75" id="cover-cat" style="max-width: 25em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/cover-cat.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="center larger">March 1896.</p> - -<table> - <tr> - <td><a href="#Eleanor_Stevens_Will"><b>Eleanor Stevens’ Will</b></a>,</td> - <td>Isabel Scott Stone</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><a href="#To_Let"><b>To Let</b></a>,</td> - <td>Alice Turner Curtis</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><a href="#Of_Course_Of_Course_Not"><b>Of Course—Of Course Not</b></a>,</td> - <td>Harry M. Peck</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><a href="#The_Marchburn_Mystery"><b>The Marchburn Mystery</b></a>,</td> - <td>A. Maurice Low</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><a href="#Their_Colonial_Villa"><b>Their Colonial Villa</b></a>,</td> - <td>Charles Barnard</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p class="center">THE SHORTSTORY PUBLISHING CO. 144 HIGH ST., BOSTON MASS.</p> - -<p class="center smaller">No. 6. Copyright, 1895 by The Shortstory Publishing Co.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak">ADVERTISEMENTS</h2> - -</div> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad01.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p class="center">Eager to get It—<b>SOZODONT</b>—Pure and Fragrant. Economy to Use It.</p> - -<p>This popular dentifrice is always delightful and effective. Used every -day, the powder twice a week, it insures better teeth, firmer gums and -sweeter breath. SOZODONT is known the world over, having stood the -test of half a century as the standard dentifrice of America. Sold by -druggists everywhere. Sample Free by mail if you mention this magazine.</p> - -<p class="center">Address, <span class="smcap">Hall & Ruckel</span>, Proprietors, New York.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">Mason & Hamlin Co.</p> - -<p><i>The Mason and Hamlin Pianos are the only pianos manufactured -containing the patented Screw Stringer, by virtue of which they do <span class="u">not -require one quarter as much tuning as any other piano made: thus reducing -expense of keeping and inconvenience to a minimum.</span></i></p> - -<p><i>Full particulars and catalogues mailed free on application.</i></p> - -<p class="center">Mason & Hamlin Co.<br /> -BOSTON, NEW YORK, CHICAGO</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">Free Magic Lantern Book</p> - -<p>All about lanterns, stereopticons and views, for Public -Exhibitions—Schools—Home amusement and for everybody How to make -money—265 page illustrated catalogue free.—Send to McALLISTER, 49 NASSAU -STREET, NEW YORK.</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1"></a>[1]</span></p> - -<p class="titlepage larger">The Black Cat</p> - -<p class="center">A Monthly Magazine of Original Short Stories.</p> - -<table class="masthead"> - <tr> - <td>No. 6.</td> - <td class="tdc">MARCH, 1896.</td> - <td class="smaller">5 cents a copy,<br />50 cents a year.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p class="center smaller">Entered at the Post-Office at Boston, Mass., as second-class matter.</p> - -<p class="center smaller"><b>IMPORTANT.</b>—The entire contents of this magazine are covered by -copyright and publishers<br />everywhere are cautioned against reproducing any -of the stories, either wholly or in part.</p> - -<p class="center smaller">Copyright, 1895, by the Shortstory Publishing Company. All rights reserved.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Eleanor_Stevens_Will">Eleanor Stevens’ Will.</h2> - -<p class="center">BY ISABEL SCOTT STONE.</p> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap1.jpg" width="150" height="150" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">When the following notice appeared in the -columns of the daily newspapers, society experienced -an absolutely new sensation. People -who hadn’t known the late Eleanor Stevens immediately -began to inquire into the history of -the woman whose name was coupled with so -singular an announcement. And people who -had known Eleanor Stevens forthwith revived long lists of her -curious fads and fancies, concluding always with the declaration: -“Well, it’s just what you might expect from Eleanor Stevens.”</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>PERSONAL. The rejected suitors of the late -Miss Eleanor Stevens may hear something to their -advantage by communicating with Willard Pratt, -Counsellor at Law, International Trust Building.</p> -</div> - -<p>Now, Eleanor Stevens had been by no means either the crotchety -old maid or the rattle-brained young one that these remarks -might imply. On the contrary, she had been a rarely charming -and gifted young woman, well born, well bred, the heiress to an -enormous fortune, in fact, the possessor of beauty, brains, and -money, sufficient to equip half a dozen so-called society belles. -But in spite of these endowments, or, perhaps, because of them, -Eleanor Stevens had been an eccentric, and with every year since -her début her eccentricity had become more marked. At times, -for example, she would dance and golf, pour at teas, and talk<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2"></a>[2]</span> -small talk to eligible young men with a persistency and success -that made her for the time the sun of society’s solar system. -Then, suddenly, and with no excuse whatever, she would withdraw -into herself, refuse all invitations, and spend a month or -more in studying Buddhism or in inquiring into the condition -of the poor in great cities. As to her suitors, the most remarkable -reports had existed concerning Miss Stevens’ treatment of those -gentlemen. It had been said by some that each in turn underwent -a period of suspense hung, like Mahomet’s coffin, between -earth and heaven, at the end of which time he was always -lowered to the former element by Miss Stevens’ unqualified refusal. -Certain malicious rivals had even claimed that at times these proposals -were so numerous that Miss Stevens used printed forms of -rejection,—like those sent by publishers with unavailable manuscript,—with -space left blank for the name and date. There -were others who had declared that her drawing-room was always -as crowded with suitors as a fashionable doctor’s waiting-room -with patients. Occasionally, it had occurred to an exceptionally -keen-witted person to connect the girl’s periods of self-exile with -her reputed refusal of some specially manly lover. But each of -these reports was, after all, founded only on surmise. For it was -cited as a crowning instance of Miss Stevens’ eccentricity that she -had looked upon the subject of love and marriage with an old-fashioned -romanticism, and that while she had never found her -special ideal, she yet believed too thoroughly in the honor of her -would-be lovers ever to betray their confidence. In the end, society -had concluded to accept the girl’s vagaries as simply “Eleanor -Stevens’ way.” And this formula had been made to cover a multitude -of oddities, ranging from the wearing of high crowns when -low ones were the fashion, to Miss Stevens’ sudden and mysterious -departure for Europe exactly two days after she had taken apartments -for the summer with a party of friends at a watering-place -hotel. Indeed, when, six months after her abrupt departure, the -notice came of the young heiress’ sudden death—unattended -except by her maid and companion—in some obscure village in -the Black Forest, even her friends could find no phrase that so well -expressed their shocked surprise as: “Well, that was just like -Eleanor Stevens. She couldn’t even die like other people.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3"></a>[3]</span></p> - -<p>And now, following upon the news of her strange death, had -appeared this still stranger notice.</p> - -<p>Eleanor Stevens’ rejected suitors! Who were they? Would -they present themselves according to directions? What were the -advantages they would gain by so doing?</p> - -<p>To the last of these questions the public had not long to wait -for an answer. Three days after the extraordinary “personal” -had made its appearance, the announcement was made that -Eleanor Stevens had left a will, and that this will had been probated. -Before this news was twelve hours old, the sensation -caused by the advertisement was completely overshadowed by -that produced by the following clause with which it was discovered -the will ended:</p> - -<p>“To each one of my rejected suitors I give and bequeath -twenty-five thousand dollars, to be paid subject to certain sealed -conditions, exactly one year from my death, in the library of my -residence in Beechwood Street, Philadelphia.”</p> - -<p>Decidedly, society had never found a more tantalizing subject -for gossip than was furnished by this mysterious will. The -latest scandal, the approaching wedding at St. Peter’s, and the -forthcoming private ball all faded into nothingness beside this -all-absorbing sensation. In the newspapers long accounts of the -dead woman’s life and character, of her house and gowns, ways of -wearing her hair, and such light-throwing investigations were -published daily. A popular preacher referred to the subject -veiledly in his Sunday night sermon. Men who had never seen -Eleanor Stevens quizzed one another about the wide swath they -would cut when they claimed the money due them under her -will. While every masculine being, from an office boy to a gray-haired -clergyman, that rode up in the elevator in the International -Trust Building, where Willard Pratt had his office, was regarded -as a possible applicant, bent on further informing himself concerning -the curious legacy’s conditions. One man only knew -the facts in the case, and that was Eleanor Stevens’ lawyer, -Willard Pratt; but from him neither hints, nor bribes, nor open -question could drag a syllable. As for Mr. Pratt’s office boy, -he reaped a harvest of retainers for worthless tips on the “approaching -race.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4"></a>[4]</span></p> - -<p>In the end, people decided that the legacy had some connection -with the late Miss Stevens’ romantic ideas concerning her rejected -suitors; and accepted, grudgingly, the necessity of awaiting the -slow coming and going of three hundred and sixty-five days -before they could find out who those suitors had been.</p> - -<p>Meantime, Willard Pratt, counsellor-at-law, was deriving from -the administration of Miss Stevens’ will the keenest enjoyment -of his long and varied legal career. Being a shrewd reader of -character, and possessed of a large fund of humor, he had vastly -enjoyed being interviewed by the claimants or the claimants’ -friends, and, though they had got nothing out of him, he had, -on the other hand, got a great deal out of them. As one after -another left him the keen jurist invariably chuckled to himself:</p> - -<p>“Smart girl to refuse him. He was after the money, that’s -plain. But what in the name of all that’s holy made her give -him twenty-five thousand now?”</p> - -<p>But his enjoyment reached its culminating point when, just -one week before the day appointed for the settlement of the will, -society was again startled by this notice in the daily papers:</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p class="center">TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN.</p> - -<p>The rejected suitors of Miss Eleanor Stevens are -requested to meet at her late residence on Beechwood -Street, Philadelphia, on Monday, the 21st -inst., at ten o’clock <span class="allsmcap">A. M.</span>, with reference to the -legacies due them under her will. WILLARD -PRATT, <i>Executor</i>.</p> - -</div> - -<p>“I think that will reawaken popular interest,” said the old -lawyer dryly.</p> - -<p>And so it did. Seven days later, when the hour appointed -for the reception of Miss Stevens’ rejected suitors drew near, the -street in the vicinity of her late residence was lined with an eager -multitude of men and women. From behind the curtains of -every window within a block, unseen spectators awaited the morning’s -developments; while people who would not acknowledge -their curiosity by joining the crowd of confessed sight-seers made -convenient errands which took them through Beechwood Street -at the time appointed for the “show.” The only drawback to -the anticipated enjoyment was the fear that, after all, the suitors -might at the last moment fail to appear.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"></a>[5]</span></p> - -<p>But no such catastrophe occurred. It is true that as the hour -drew near in which they were to stand confessed as members of -Miss Eleanor’s “army of martyrs” several of the intended -claimants had found themselves weakening in their resolve. -Those, for instance, who had justified their claim solely on the -ground of an admiration felt but never expressed, felt their -courage oozing as the ordeal approached. Others, who were -burning incense at new shrines, seriously considered renouncing -a claim that would decidedly complicate their present prospects. -Still others, who were now happily married, hesitated at opening -the old wound and endangering their domestic bliss, even for -twenty-five thousand dollars; while hardly one but felt some -qualms at the thought of openly profiting by an experience -that most men hide in the deepest recesses of the heart.</p> - -<p>It was a question whether pride or profit would win the day. -In the end, however, the almighty dollar had proved its right to -that title.</p> - -<p>When Mr. Pratt entered the library of Miss Stevens’ late -residence, at ten o’clock on this eventful morning, he found the -room crowded with a body of men clad in mourning garb and -solemnly waiting in various stages of uneasiness for the approach -of the long-expected moment.</p> - -<p>As the lawyer silently took his seat behind a baize-covered -table, the troubled faces grew visibly more troubled; and as he -produced sundry important-looking documents and laid them on -the table, each countenance was stamped with mingled emotions, -eager expectancy in many cases being linked with shame and -avarice.</p> - -<p>“Gentlemen,” began the old lawyer, “I must trouble each of -you to give me in writing a concise statement of the time, place, -and circumstances attending your several offers and rejections, in -order that I may have documentary proof that you are entitled to -the legacies left you by the terms of Miss Stevens’ will.</p> - -<p>“Documentary proof!” At those unexpected words the -emotion that marked the faces of the strange assembly changed to -unmistakable concern. Was this some disagreeable joke? No, -the old lawyer waited with unmoved face for the fulfilment of -his demand. There was a momentary hesitation. Then, filing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>[6]</span> -up in due order, the applicants, one by one, seated themselves at -the table before the old attorney and wrote the account demanded.</p> - -<p>As the last statement was signed, the portières of the library -were suddenly drawn back, and a tall, heavily veiled figure -advanced slowly into the middle of the room. Then, as she -raised her hand and drew back the thick gauze that masked -her face, a cry of terror echoed through the house.</p> - -<p>The woman was Eleanor Stevens!</p> - -<p>“Wait,” she commanded. “Don’t be alarmed; I am no ghost. -The Miss Stevens who died a year ago in the Black Forest was -not the Miss Stevens whose loss you are so deeply mourning.</p> - -<p>“By a stupid blunder of the peasants with whom I was staying, -an exchange of names occurred between myself and an -invalid girl whom I had befriended; so that when she died, her -death certificate was issued under the name of Eleanor Stevens.</p> - -<p>“Some weeks earlier I had been influenced by daily contact -with one whose life was fading rapidly away to draw up my will -in legal form and to send it home to my lawyer.</p> - -<p>“When I left so suddenly for Europe a year and a half ago it -was because of a conversation overheard between several of my -seeming admirers which changed all my ideas of manly chivalry -in affairs of the heart, and which drove me abroad, as I supposed, -forever.</p> - -<p>“It was that blundering exchange of names that has given me -the opportunity of meeting you under these interesting circumstances.</p> - -<p>“Now, gentlemen, my will, in which you have shown so deep -an interest, stipulates that each of my rejected suitors shall -receive twenty-five thousand dollars after my death. That -bequest will be carried out to the letter when I am really dead.</p> - -<p>“In the meantime I would gladly read your documentary proofs; -but, as I have never in all my life rejected but two suitors, and as -one of these died six months ago and the other is not here to-day, -I shall be obliged to refer you to my lawyer.”</p> - -<p>And with a sweeping courtesy Miss Stevens withdrew from -the room.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a>[7]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="To_Let">“To Let.”</h2> - -<p class="center">BY ALICE TURNER CURTIS.</p> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap2.jpg" width="150" height="150" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">On one of the streets leading from the park in the -center of a town near Boston is a very attractive -modern house with a history. It was built -for the occupancy of a Mr. and Mrs. Leslie, -whose mysterious deaths mark the beginning of -this story.</p> - -<p>The facts here recorded are just as I heard -them. Indeed I was a resident of the town during the period in -which these strange occurrences took place, and had a personal -acquaintance with the people mentioned.</p> - -<p>The Leslies had been married a year, were apparently happy, -and were well and favorably known in the town. One morning -a neighbor noticed that lights were burning in the Leslie house. -He ran up the steps and rang the bell. There was no response, -and after a few hours the neighbors decided that something was -wrong inside, and that an entrance must be made at once. The -front door was accordingly forced open, and as the men went in -they could see into the room beyond the hall, the sitting-room. -Mr. Leslie was sitting with a paper across his knees, apparently -asleep, and on a couch near by lay his wife.</p> - -<p>It took but a few moments to ascertain that both had been -dead for some hours. Their faces were peaceful and composed; -there were no signs of disturbance in the house.</p> - -<p>Every possible inquiry was made. No trace of poison or of -foul play could be found. Numberless theories were advanced, -and the wonder and excitement over the tragic death of the -young couple grew daily.</p> - -<p>After some months their relatives removed the furnishings, -and “To Let” appeared in the cottage windows. The house -was immediately taken by a man from Boston, whose family consisted, -beside himself, of his wife and two little girls. None of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a>[8]</span> -this family had heard the story of the Leslies, nor did they hear -it until they had been in the cottage for some weeks.</p> - -<p>One night, after they had occupied the dwelling for over a -week, the man of the family was awakened by a sudden scream. -His wife awoke at the same moment, and exclaimed: “One of -the children must have the nightmare,” but just then the two -little girls rushed into the room, exclaiming, “What’s the matter, -mother? What are you screaming about?” Almost before they -had finished speaking two more screams in quick succession rang -through the house. The place was carefully searched, but no -cause for the disturbance could be found.</p> - -<p>The next night at about the same hour like sounds were heard. -After that Mr. Weston made inquiries of the neighbors. None -of them had been disturbed. One suggested that possibly a cat -was shut up somewhere in the house and had made the noises -heard, but a careful search of the entire premises failed to discover -any such commonplace solution of the mysterious sounds.</p> - -<p>A week passed without any recurrence of the midnight sounds, -when one night Mrs. Weston awoke from a most terrible dream. -She dreamed that she was lying upon the couch in the sitting-room. -In front of her stood a young man who held a pillow in -his hands. “I shall stifle you,” he said clearly; “it’s no use to -struggle.” Mrs. Weston dreamed that she tried to scream; that -once, twice, three times she endeavored to rise from the couch to -push away the pillow, but could not.</p> - -<p>From this dream she awoke suddenly, and, as she lay endeavoring -to overcome its impression, a gasping shriek, quickly followed -by two more, awakened her husband, and again sent the little -girls flying in terror to their mother’s room.</p> - -<p>This time Mrs. Weston held herself responsible for the terrible -screams. “I’ve had a dreadful dream, and I suppose I -screamed without knowing it,” she said. She had hardly finished -this explanation when again came the screams, the last dying -away in a stifled moan.</p> - -<p>The family was by this time thoroughly terrified. They had -heard the story of the Leslies, and without waiting for further experiences -in the house they moved at once.</p> - -<p>Their story got about the town, with the result that the house<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>[9]</span> -was vacant for a year. Then a family, consisting of an -elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Walters, and their son, a young -man about twenty-five, moved in. The remainder of the story -was told me by this son, and I will give it in his own words -as nearly as possible:</p> - -<p>“I wasn’t afraid of any haunted house. My father was deaf, -so it would take a reasonably loud scream to wake him, and my -mother was a sensible woman. The house just suited us. We got -nicely settled in a few weeks, and my elder brother and his wife -came out from Boston to make us a visit. The first night they -were there I stayed in town for the theater. The train I came -out in left a few minutes after eleven, and I reached the house -at about a quarter before twelve. I was nearly ready for bed -when a shriek like that of a person struggling for his life -sounded through the house. I hurried into the hall, and as I -did so my brother opened his door. Before either of us could -speak a second and a third scream followed. By this time even -father’s deaf ears had been penetrated, and we all sat up talking -the matter over far into the night before we felt like sleep.</p> - -<p>“In the end we decided not to mention the occurrence. We -thought of several possible explanations of the noise. The next -morning we made a careful examination of the house and surroundings. -We made inquiries as to late trains, thinking we -might have mistaken the shriek of an engine for a human voice; -but all our conjectures led to nothing. We could find no satisfactory -reason for the disturbance.</p> - -<p>“I made inquiries about the Leslies, and found that many people -believed that Leslie had stifled his wife, and then taken some -subtle poison which left no trace; but there was no evidence to -support this theory; no sign of poison had been found, no cause -could be given for such an act, and nothing could explain the -midnight screams. A week passed quietly, when one night my -brother awakened our mother, telling her that his wife was ill. -She had awakened from a bad dream almost suffocated, and my -mother worked over her for some time before she was restored. -She refused to tell her dream, but we were well assured that it -was a repetition of Mrs. Weston’s. The next morning my brother -and his wife went to their home.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a>[10]</span></p> - -<p>“I had one more experience in that house which I shall never -forget. My father was to be out one night until midnight at the -meeting of a society of which he was a member, and my mother -and I decided to wait up for him.</p> - -<p>“About eleven o’clock mother lay down on the couch and went -to sleep. The room was brightly lighted, and I sat near the couch -reading.</p> - -<p>“Just as I heard my father come in I was startled by a sudden -moan from my mother. I turned quickly toward the couch, and -as I did so I saw plainly that the sofa pillow lay upon her face. -I snatched it away, and awakened her with some little difficulty.</p> - -<p>“Meantime my father had come into the room, and as he entered -a scream, terrible in its nearness and intensity, rang out, -thrilling us all with a sickening shock. We left the next day.”</p> - -<p>This finished his story. No explanation of these happenings -has ever been given. The Leslies’ death remains a mystery, and -to explain the Presence that occupied this cottage after their death -would be to account for a side of life which we barely touch and -cannot comprehend.</p> - -<p>The house is still to let.</p> - -<div class="figcenter illowp100" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/footer1.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>[11]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Of_Course_Of_Course_Not">Of Course—Of Course Not.</h2> - -<p class="center">BY HARRY M. PECK.</p> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap3.jpg" width="150" height="150" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">They sat, side by side, on a big hearth-rug, gazing -into the glowing coals. The one was a -young man, of perhaps twenty-eight, and the -other an old dog, of perhaps ten. That’s not a -criticism on the poverty of the English language. -It simply shows how much more a dog can -“get out,” or perhaps “put into,” ten years than a man.</p> - -<p>They sat there, anyway. Young or old. Young and old. -And they gazed into the coals. And the young one blew great -clouds of smoke out of a fragrant briarwood at the old one. But -the old one did not mind. He was acclimated.</p> - -<p>It was in the cozy bachelor apartments of Neil Richards. Neil -was a fellow who had succeeded, by dint of presumable study, -money, and late nights, in getting through college in a commendable -manner, seven years before. Since that time he had been -engaged in the financial business. Not exactly as a legitimate -broker; nor as a negotiator of loans; nor again as a pawnbroker; -but in that pleasanter line which on a business letter-head—if he -had owned such a thing—would have been expressed something -like this: “Neil Richards, Income Spender, Pleasant Street, Easyville.” -Anyway, he had been traveling, intermittently, to improve -himself, as the phrase goes, since the day he calmly, and with the -most approved senioric gravity, tucked a sheepskin under his arm -and discarded his cap and gown.</p> - -<p>But, after his latest peripatetic streak, he was back again, at -last, in New York, in his old rooms, in his favorite seat on the -hearth-rug, with his dog beside him, and—in love. The fellows -at the club had said for several weeks past, as Richards would -excuse himself, get up, and go out about nine o’clock evenings: -“Funny about Neil, isn’t it? He leaves us every night at nine -o’clock, and goes home, and they say he sits down and talks to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>[12]</span> -that old dog, General, of his till midnight. Guess he must be in -love.”</p> - -<p>And the fellows were right. Neil was hopelessly, fearfully, -and miserably in love. Her name was Dorcas—Dorcas Howland; -not a particularly pretty name, nor a particularly pretty girl; but -a girl with such a wealth of sweetness, tact, common sense, and -intelligence that more would have made her a curiosity. Neil -had seen her at what is known as a large affair one evening, two -months ago; was presented, murmured his platitudes, had a waltz, -and immediately put her on a pedestal. He had seen her a few -times since, once driving, when he received a bow that kept him -absent-minded for a week; and on a few other occasions at the -house of a friend, where he had passed some of the shortest -quarter hours of his existence—talking to her. And that was -as far as he had gone. It isn’t exactly strange, then, is it, that -when a man almost deifies a girl he has known only two months -he should like to sit down on a hearth-rug and talk to an old dog -he has known for ten years? A club, and cocktails, and gossip, -and late hours are no solace at all, under such circumstances.</p> - -<p>But we left them on the hearth-rug, gazing into the coals. -“You see, General, it’s like this: I’m in love—desperately in -love—and Miss Howland doesn’t care a rap for me. Probably -thinks I am just like all the rest of them, looking for her money, -when I’m really not. You understand, General, that I’m not.”</p> - -<p>The General blinked sympathetically, and looked hard at the -coals. Neil threw an arm affectionately around the dog. “You -see, I like to tell you these things, old boy, because you never -say anything about them.” There was silence for a few moments, -while Richards meditatively pulled away at his pipe and the dog -pensively thought of his puppyhood and its loves. “She’s so -sweet and dainty,” at last continued Neil. “How she would -brighten up a home for us, wouldn’t she, General?” The dog -turned his head, and, looking at his master, reached one great paw -over and laid it on Richards’s knee. “Shake, is it, old man? -Well, here goes. I thought you felt as I did. Now, General, -you and I must scheme how to get her.” The dog thumped his -tail appreciatively on the rug, and they both went to work staring -at the coals again.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>[13]</span></p> - -<p>And so they sat on,—Neil solemnly meditative, the General -silently sympathetic. It was a good hour later, when Neil’s pipe -had burned out, and the dog’s head had drowsily fallen against -his shoulder, that Richards heard the elevator bell ring, and a -moment after the upward rush of the car. Then, as the elevator -stopped at his landing, he heard the voice of old Barker, the -janitor, saying, “Yes, sir; Mr. Richards is always in nights now, -sir. I am sure you will find him still up. Door to the right, -sir; and do be careful, sir, not to go to the left, as them’s Miss -Stevens’s apartments, sir, and no one is allowed to disturb her, -sir, till I takes her up her cup of tea, and the saucer of milk for -the gray cat, sir, at half after—” but the remainder of the -old man’s loquacity was muffled by the sound of voices.</p> - -<p>“Some of the boys, come to drag me out on one of their -infernal midnight romps, I suppose,” said Richards to himself, -with a discontented sigh. “They did that only three nights ago. -Why can’t they let a poor devil smoke his pipe in peace?” -Then, as footsteps approached the door, he arose and surveyed -himself in a long mirror at the end of the room. He did not look -very presentable, he admitted. His hair was mussed, his clothes -were full of tobacco ashes, and he hadn’t, when he sat down, even -taken the trouble to don a lounging jacket; hence was in his -shirt-sleeves. “But who cares?” remarked Richards to himself. -“If these stupid night hawks will come here at such an hour, -they will have to take things as they find them. Suppose they -will have something to drink, however.” As he turned to the -cabinet set in the side of the room, with his back to the door, and -reached for decanters and glasses, a knock sounded, and a cheery -voice shouted, “O Neil, I say, Neil, I’m coming in.”</p> - -<p>“Come in, you infernal rounder, if you must,” was the reply. -“Bring them all in; you are never alone. You and your gang -are, without exception, the most unexcelled set of thoughtless, -reveling peace-disturbers I know of. You fellows have been at -this thing for ten years,” continued Neil; “you know you have, -Bob” (still busy with the decanters). “Don’t you ever intend -letting up? Why don’t you fellows say something? This is no -monologue.”</p> - -<p>By this time Richards had succeeded in extricating the troublesome<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>[14]</span> -decanters from the mass of bottles and glasses, and, turning -around, faced the door. To his amazement, instead of the crowd -of merry faces he had expected to see peering in at him, he saw -only two. One was that of Bob Cutting, his chum, and the -other—was that—of Miss Dorcas Howland! The door was -wide open. She stood a little in front. Cutting was in the doorway. -The gleam from the dying coals and the ruddy reflection -from a lamp with a big red shade over in the corner brought -out every detail of her face and figure.</p> - -<p>And Neil stood, with a decanter in each hand, coatless, and -mussed, and speechless. The silence did not last long, however. -Miss Howland smiled, bowed sweetly to Neil, and stepped into -the room. “Good-evening, Mr. Richards,” she said, and held out -her hand. Neil managed, in a dazed sort of a way, to set down -the decanter that was in his right hand without breaking it, and -accepted the proffered hand. Bob Cutting looked on and smiled. -“Too astounded to speak, Mr. Richards,” remarked the young -woman. “Well, an explanation certainly is due you. Then you -may not think me so utterly indiscreet as appearances would seem -to warrant. Mr. Cutting, will you kindly try to put matters -straight, and, at the same time, assure Mr. Richards that we are -his guests? His accent, as I recollect it, is a pleasing one. For -‘this is no monologue,’ you know,” and she smiled pleasantly at -Neil.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” broke in Cutting, as Miss Howland paused, “you see, -Neil, it’s like this. It does look funny, I admit; but I was walking -home with Dorcas—er—Miss Howland, from some working -girls’ club she engineers, and we were chatting about picturesque -bachelor apartments, or, rather, I was describing some of them -to her that I know the best, and I struck yours. I think I must -have grown very eloquent in my description, for Miss Howland -insisted that she must see these famous apartments, of which, by -the way, all the girls have heard. Knowing it would be all right, -as far as you were concerned, I proposed we come over to-night -and make you a call, though”—as he looked ruefully around -the room—“I really didn’t think she’d come.”</p> - -<p>Neil, during the recital, had quite recovered himself, and -privately decided that if a man and a girl were willing to take<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a>[15]</span> -the social risk he surely could meet them half way. So he -calmly placed the other decanter on a table, and, turning to them, -remarked, “I am very glad to see you. This is a little bit out of -the ordinary, but the unexpected is quite often the pleasantest. -Won’t you sit down, Miss Howland? I am extremely sorry that -your visit to my den couldn’t have been made under more favorable -circumstances; at one of my little teas, for instance. Under other -than the present circumstances I should feel that an apology was -due you for my personal appearance. I am quite aware that I -have no coat on, that my hair is mussed, and that I have a general -and virulent attack of the malady bachelor-at-homeness. However, -I shan’t apologize.” And then the democratic Neil pulled -up two big armchairs, and, having seen his guests cosily seated -before the replenished fire, calmly and coatlessly resumed his -place on the hearth-rug beside the General. Miss Howland -looked surprised, but said nothing. Then she reached over and -patted the silky head of the dog. He took the caress in a dignified -sort of way, but nestled closer, if possible, to Richards. -“What a handsome fellow,” she softly said; “and how much he -thinks of his master,” she added to herself.</p> - -<p>The three chatted away together about bachelor dens, people, -and other generalities for some time, when suddenly Miss Howland -rose and, turning to Cutting, said: “I wonder if you’d -mind granting me one more favor. I wish to have a little talk -with Mr. Richards—alone.” She paused a moment. “I know -it’s unconventional, but the rest of this is, also, and I know you -won’t take it amiss, will you?”</p> - -<p>“Not at all,” Cutting answered. “Suppose I manipulate the -ivories while you have your talk. Don’t feel that it must be -abbreviated on my account; but when you get through, why, do -as they do in the plays, ring for me, and, like the footman, I’ll -appear. Is it feasible?”</p> - -<p>“Quite so, thank you,” answered the girl; “it’s so good of -you.” And, with a pipe in one hand and a tobacco jar in the -other, Bob vanished through the portières; and a moment later -the click of billiard balls announced that he had found occupation.</p> - -<p>The girl turned to Richards. He had risen with Cutting and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a>[16]</span> -had now donned a Japanese smoking-jacket, in which, somehow, -he felt better equipped for his strange tête-à-tête. As his eyes -sought hers she looked him frankly in the face, and simply asked: -“Mr. Richards, what do you think of me?” Richards was silent -for a moment, and then, with his eyes on the dog at his feet, said: -“Shall I tell you frankly?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, please do,” answered the girl.</p> - -<p>He looked up. “I think you have lots of courage, are a bit injudicious, -and, of course, did not come here without reasons.”</p> - -<p>She smiled. “You are frank, but don’t you think it rude to -assume the role of inquisitor in your first remark?”</p> - -<p>“But you asked me, didn’t you?” he gently replied.</p> - -<p>“Yes, I suppose so,” she said.</p> - -<p>She stood absently looking down at shaggy General sleeping -peacefully on the hearth-rug. Richards watched her a minute, -and then, stepping forward, said softly, “Please sit down, Miss -Howland, and then you can tell me as much as you wish.”</p> - -<p>A grateful look flashed into her face, as she took the big chair -he offered her, and sank into it a little wearily. Leaning back, -she scrutinized the well-cut, thoughtful face of the man. He had -taken his place beside the dog again, and as he sat staring at the -coals in the flickering firelight he seemed even handsomer than -ever.</p> - -<p>She looked at him a moment, and, without moving, said: “Mr. -Richards, I’ve come here to-night on a queer mission. I wish -advice. I wish to tell you something about myself, and then I -want you to advise me as to what you think I ought to do. I -have come to you under circumstances peculiar, to say the least, -for these reasons: First, because what I have seen of you has led -me to think you honest, frank, and sincere; second, because your -friends assure me I am right. This has led me to believe you will -be willing to overlook what might be construed as unwomanly, -and, in addition, will be willing to help me in trouble. Am I -right?” she hesitatingly asked.</p> - -<p>“Yes, Miss Howland, you are,” he replied; “people who know -anything about you could not misinterpret your actions. Don’t -think circumstances affect me; but just tell me plainly what I -can do for you.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>[17]</span></p> - -<p>“I thought you would take it so,” she said in a tone of relief. -“And now I’ll tell you what I wish to, and pray don’t regard it -as a girl’s whim,—as a peculiar girl’s whim,—but simply try to -assume the role of a willing listener and an impartial adviser. -You see,” she continued, “I have no one to go to. I am alone in -the world. My parents are both dead, and I live with an elderly -aunt, who is as good to me as any one could be, but with whom -I have absolutely nothing in common.”</p> - -<p>The girl smiled thoughtfully. “She likes her tea and cat, her -Goldsmith and Thackeray, early hours, and to be left alone. I am -different. She is sixty-eight, and that’s the reason, I presume. -Besides, she was never married. And now, Mr. Richards, I have -come to the place where I hardly know what to say. It’s about -my marrying. A funny thing to consult you about, isn’t it? -You see, ever since I was a child it has been taken for granted -that when I grew up I should marry a certain individual. My -parents both seemed to consider it a settled matter, my aunt the -same; and I suppose, as a child, I followed the general example. -That man was Bob Cutting. We played together as children, -living in adjacent houses, and virtually grew up together. I -remember we used to have mock marriage ceremonies, at which he -and I always figured as the principals, with some other youngster -as the clergyman, and we always looked forward to the time when -as ‘grown ups’ our marriage might be made ‘real.’ So matters -drifted along. The children’s play stopped a good many years -ago; but Bob has kept coming to see me just the same.</p> - -<p>“And now—well, he wishes to carry out in earnest what -was begun in play. A few nights ago he asked me to be his -wife.”</p> - -<p>The girl leaned forward, and absently smoothed the General’s -head, as he lay there watching the coals. Presently she said:—</p> - -<p>“Mr. Richards, then, and not till then, did I find I did not love -him. But,” she added, “I did not tell him so. I said only: -‘We’ve been friends since we were children. Come to me next -Sunday night, and I will give you my answer.’”</p> - -<p>For a moment she sat without speaking; then she concluded: -“Mr. Richards, you are Bob Cutting’s dearest friend. He hasn’t -but one friend like you. No man has; no man can have; no<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>[18]</span> -man wishes more. I come to you and ask you, who know him so -well, what shall I do? Shall I tell him Sunday night that I’ll -marry him, or shall I say ‘no’? Is it selfish in a girl placed as I -am to think of her own future, or ought I to give it up to him? -He has been good to me; so good to me; I like him, but I do not -love him.”</p> - -<p>And then she leaned wearily back in her chair, and fixed her -eyes on Richards. He did not look up. He did not seem to -realize her presence. She watched him, and he watched the red -embers glow, crumble, and fade into ashes. The dog whined in -his sleep. Then, finally, Richards raised his head, and quietly -said:—</p> - -<p>“Miss Howland, I think it would be very wrong for you to -marry Bob. As you say, I know him well. He is a fellow with -such a wealth of love for those he cares for that if he finds it is -not reciprocated he is miserable. Think what a lifetime of it -would mean to him. And now, you see, in what I’ve said so far -I’ve considered only Bob. I think you also ought to consider -yourself. Two lives are involved; and why should they both be -ruined? You are both young. If I were you I should tell Bob, -in the kindest possible way, that I did not love him. He will -grieve at first, but I think when he finds out you were not for him -he will see that it’s for the best, and afterward will thank you. -And, as for yourself, Miss Howland, when you’ve done this, you -can say, ‘I’ve done my duty; I’ve done right.’ And some day”—the -man hesitated—“and some day perhaps some other good -man will come along, and ask you to marry him, and perhaps -you’ll find you care a great deal for him; and the past, with its -Bob, and its trouble,” and again he hesitated, “and its visit to -Richards and the General will be a ghostly vision, which happiness -and sunshine will soon wipe away.”</p> - -<p>At this point he was interrupted suddenly by the General, who, -as though scenting some vague trouble, started up with a sleepy -“Wuff!”</p> - -<p>The sound relieved the tension of the situation. Both laughed, -and Miss Howland, rising, reached out her hand to Richards, who -now stood facing her. “Thank you,” she said cordially. “You’ve -been very good. You’ll return my visit some time, won’t you?<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>[19]</span> -And now, suppose we ‘ring the bell’ for Bob,” nodding towards -an Oriental gong that hung suspended near the mantel.</p> - -<p>Richards took her hand and, holding it a moment, said quietly: -“I thank you; I will come. But, before you go, I want to ask -you just one question. Don’t answer it unless you wish to. You -told me that you don’t love Bob; is it—is it because there’s some -one else?”</p> - -<p>They say that a man’s life, and hopes, and ambitions can be -snuffed out by a woman’s reply. And they also say that a man’s -future can be made all sunshine and promise if hope can only -enter in. And that sometimes comes from a woman’s reply, also.</p> - -<p>She waited a moment, and then replied firmly:</p> - -<p>“No; there’s no one else.”</p> - -<p>A moment later Cutting joined them in response to Richards’ -summons. As he stood before the fire, pulling on his gloves, he -looked at each good-humoredly, and said: “I’m awfully glad -that you have become better acquainted; but I hope you haven’t -been engaged in the pleasing occupation of damning a mutual -friend. I see you’ve made friends with General, also, Miss Howland,” -he concluded. For the dog stood beside the girl, watching -and waiting for a caress.</p> - -<p>“Yes,” she replied; “General and I are the best of friends,” -and she leaned over and softly patted the handsome head. “And -General’s master and I are going to be, too, are we not, Mr. -Richards?”</p> - -<p>“Yes, we are going to be—that is, I hope so,” Richards said -slowly.</p> - -<p>The next moment the door closed, and she was gone. And -Richards picked up a pipe, and lit it, and, turning to the dog, -thoughtfully remarked:</p> - -<p>“And so endeth the first lesson.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Of course it’s obvious. Love does not need to be diagramed. -And, of course, a year later, when the big brownstone had its -awning, and its carpeted steps, and its music, and its flowers, all -was quite as it should be. And of course their friends heard -the Mendelssohn march, and threw rice, and wished them joy. -And Bob Cutting was best man? Of course not. And did the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>[20]</span> -Mother Grundies shrug their white shoulders, and say: “What a -beautiful bride! but I wonder how she could have done it; they -say she was engaged to another?” Of course they did. And -that is love, and about the way it generally turns out. Of -course.</p> - -<div class="figcenter illowp100" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/footer2.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>[21]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="The_Marchburn_Mystery">The Marchburn Mystery.</h2> - -<p class="center">BY A. MAURICE LOW.</p> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap4.jpg" width="150" height="150" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">As Walter Brixton, chief of United States secret -service agents in New York City, stepped off -the Washington Limited in the Jersey City -depot, the newsboys were calling, “Extra, -extra, all about the murder; extra!” Brixton -bought a paper. As he settled himself in -the “L” car he read, under flaming head-lines, the following -account, written in the short, paragraphic style which usually -denotes that “copy” has been prepared in a newspaper office in a -rush:</p> - -<p>“Shortly after six o’clock this evening, Bridget Martin, one of -the cleaners employed in the Empire Building, discovered the -dead body of Lawrence Marchburn in his private office.</p> - -<p>“The screams of the frightened woman brought to her assistance -the janitor and some of the tenants, although nearly all of -them had left the building for the day.</p> - -<p>“A hasty examination showed that Mr. Marchburn had been -shot.</p> - -<p>“When found he was sitting at his desk, his head dropped -forward and resting on his left arm, his hand clutching the receiver -of the telephone with the death grip. This would seem to -indicate that Mr. Marchburn had been shot in the very act of -using the telephone, which was affixed to his desk. The body -was still warm, but life was quite extinct.</p> - -<p>“The murder must have been committed within an hour of the -time of discovery.</p> - -<p>“A small wound just above the heart indicated that death had -probably been instantaneous.</p> - -<p>“The police were immediately notified, and an officer appeared -upon the scene. He questioned the janitor and his assistants, but -learned nothing additional to the above facts. A search was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>[22]</span> -made for the pistol, but it could not be found, which proves conclusively -that it is a case of murder and not suicide.</p> - -<p>“None of the persons had heard the sound of a pistol shot, but -the woman, Martin, said she heard shortly after five o’clock what -sounded like the violent slamming of a door. At that time she -was on the seventh floor, and paid no attention to the noise. Mr. -Marchburn’s office was on the eleventh floor.</p> - -<p>“At this time the police have not the slightest clue on which -to proceed. At the central telephone station no one remembers -having been asked to connect 1611 Courtland, which was Marchburn’s -number. As no record is kept of the thousands of daily -calls, the telephone office can throw no light on the murder. -There is no known motive for the crime, as Mr. Marchburn was -not supposed to have an enemy, and was highly respected in -business and social circles. The inquest to-morrow is expected to -throw some light upon the awful crime.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Marchburn was president of the International Bank Note -and Engraving Company, whose offices are on the eleventh story -of the Empire Building, their factory being in New Jersey.</p> - -<p>“He came to New York about five years ago from the West, -and started the Bank Note Company, which has been remarkably -successful. He was a member of the Central League, the Cosmopolitan, -and the Hudson Bay Clubs.</p> - -<p>“Deceased was a director in the Seventeenth National Bank -and other financial institutions, and was a member of the Jackson -Avenue Presbyterian Church. He leaves a daughter, his only -child, and, his wife having died several years ago, the sole heir to -his vast wealth, which is estimated at millions.”</p> - -<p>Like all detectives, Brixton was interested in any story of -crime; but just now a case of his own engrossed the larger part -of his attention. For some months past the country had been -flooded with counterfeit notes, and, although the entire secret -service force and the police of all the leading cities had been -hunting the counterfeiters, they had made little progress. The -bills were so nearly perfect, they so closely copied the genuine -article, both as to the work of the engraver and the paper upon -which they were printed, that only an expert was able to discriminate -between them. People began to be thoroughly alarmed.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>[23]</span> -Many got rid of their paper money as quickly as possible, and exchanged -it for gold and silver so as to avoid risk. The newspapers -denounced the Secretary of the Treasury for not being able -to capture the criminals.</p> - -<p>The newspapers next morning contained long accounts of the -murder of Mr. Marchburn; but they were able to add little to the -reports printed in the extras of the evening before. The murder -of a wealthy business man in practically broad daylight, in a building -on one of the most frequented streets of the city, caused a -tremendous sensation, and in business circles the tragedy was -more eagerly discussed than the course of the market. The -coroner’s inquest brought out these facts:</p> - -<p>Mr. Marchburn had spent the day at the factory, and returned -to his office about five o’clock. The clerks had not expected him -back that evening, and some of them had left. To his chief clerk -he said he had stopped in on his way up town to fetch some -papers which he wanted to look over at his house, and that while -in the office he would write some personal letters. No one need -wait for him, as he would latch the outer door after him. Then -Mr. Marchburn threw open his desk, the chief clerk wished him -good-evening, and in a few minutes, except for the president, the -offices appeared to be vacant.</p> - -<p>It was explained to the jury that the company occupied five -rooms, all of which opened into the main corridor. Mr. Marchburn’s -private room was at the extreme end of the suite. The -company employed seven clerks, two of them girls. One of the -girls and Mr. Marchburn’s private secretary had left before -the return of that gentleman, and the other clerks testified that -no stranger was in any of the rooms when they left. The last -persons to leave were John Rogers, the chief clerk, and the -cashier, William Harding. Rogers swore that while he was waiting -for Harding to close the safe Mr. Marchburn came into the general -office from his room, and asked if a certain account had been paid. -Both men were positive that nobody could have been secreted in -the rooms at that time, and at the close of the short conversation -Mr. Marchburn again said “Good-night,” and returned to his -room. Rogers put down the spring latch and tried the door from -the outside. It was safely locked. They walked across the hall<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a>[24]</span> -to the elevator, and while waiting for the car met the janitor, who -inquired if the offices were empty. Rogers told him that Mr. -Marchburn was in his room and would be busy for a short time.</p> - -<p>The janitor told a straight enough story. After leaving Rogers -and Harding he had worked on the other side of the building, and -then went to the first floor. He was on the third story at the -time when Bridget Martin’s screams alarmed him, and he hastily -ran to the elevator and told the conductor to take him upstairs. -At that time he did not know whence the outcry proceeded, but -as the elevator went rushing up some one shouted that Mr. Marchburn -had been hurt. When he reached the eleventh story and -entered the company’s rooms he found the Martin woman and -three or four other persons, tenants of the building. His evidence -as to the finding of the body was merely corroborative of that of -the other witnesses.</p> - -<p>There are four elevators in the Empire Building. The conductor -of No. 4 elevator, Richard Wright, testified as follows: -“I have been employed only two days at the Empire Building. -It is the rule to close down two of the elevators at half past five; -at six o’clock the third is closed, and the other half an hour -later. I am ‘late man’ this week. Just as six o’clock was -striking and elevator No. 3 was making its last downward trip, -the annunciator in my car dropped for the tenth story. I ran my -car up and took in a young man. I do not remember to have -seen him before. He stepped into the car, and as I pulled the -rope to go down I noticed that he had a handkerchief wrapped -round his right hand and he was holding it with his left, as -though it hurt him. I said to him: ‘Have you hurt your hand?’ -He replied: ‘Yes, I squeezed it in the door.’</p> - -<p>“I looked at his hand again and noticed that there was blood -upon the handkerchief, and I said: ‘It’s bleeding.’ The young -fellow looked dreadfully scared, and I thought he was going to -drop, but he said something I couldn’t hear, and as soon as the -car stopped he walked away quickly.”</p> - -<p>This testimony produced a profound sensation, and every eye -was turned upon Wright.</p> - -<p>“Why did you not mention this circumstance to the police last -night?” asked the coroner.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25"></a>[25]</span></p> - -<p>Wright shifted about uneasily and said: “When I heard the -screams upstairs and was told that Mr. Marchburn had been -murdered I was scared half out of my life and clean forgot all -about it until I got home. It was then too late to tell any one, -and I thought I would wait until I came here.”</p> - -<p>“Can you describe this man?” asked a juror.</p> - -<p>“He was a young fellow; I should think about twenty-four. -I didn’t notice his face particularly, except when I told him his -hand was bloody, and then I saw how white he looked. I never -should have thought much of it if it hadn’t been for the murder.”</p> - -<p>“How was he dressed?”</p> - -<p>“He had on a brown overcoat; but I don’t remember anything -else.”</p> - -<p>That was all the light Wright could throw upon the affair. -Coroner and jurymen plied him with questions; but he could tell -them nothing. He did not know the color of the man’s eyes, -whether he wore a beard, what kind of hat he wore; in fact, he -could furnish nothing which would serve as an identification. -He thought he might know the man if he were to see him again; -but he was not absolutely sure as to that. There was no reason -to think that Wright was not telling the truth, and it was almost -impossible that he could have committed the murder, but the jury, -in rendering their verdict of wilful murder against some person -or persons unknown, censured Wright for having remained silent -for more than twelve hours, and the coroner privately suggested -to the police that they keep an eye upon Wright.</p> - -<p>As soon as the verdict had been rendered, Detective Sergeants -Johnson and Richardson, who had been detailed by Superintendent -of Police Walton to attend the inquest, reported to him for further -instructions. They briefly repeated the testimony and especially -the startling evidence of Wright. When they had finished the -chief said:</p> - -<p>“What do you make of it?”</p> - -<p>“The man in the brown overcoat is the murderer,” said Johnson.</p> - -<p>“The man in the brown overcoat had nothing to do with it; -but Wright knows a great deal more than he has told,” was Richardson’s -analysis.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"></a>[26]</span></p> - -<p>Walton looked out of the window a couple of minutes without -speaking. “The person who committed the murder,” he said, as -if he were talking to himself more than to his listeners, and without -looking at either, “was expected to call at the office that -evening by Marchburn, who came back about the time the clerks -were preparing to leave, on purpose to keep his appointment. All -the doors were locked. Either the visitor must have had a duplicate -key, or else Marchburn left one of the doors open, or they had -a private signal. Any one of a dozen persons might have been -able to open the door with a duplicate key; but I don’t see anything -to point in that direction. Marchburn would hardly be -likely to leave the door open for his expected visitor, so it is evident -the doors were kept locked, and when the prearranged signal -was given Marchburn opened the door to his murderer. Who was -the murderer and what was the motive? It was not money, because -no valuables were taken, and the clerks say that neither -papers nor anything else were disturbed. The murder was either -the result of a sudden burst of passion, or else it was premeditated, -and something forced the murderer to do then what had -long been contemplated. There was a very strong motive. Find -the motive and you find the—”</p> - -<p>“The murderer,” interrupted Richardson.</p> - -<p>“The murderess,” continued the chief as calmly as if he had -not heard the interruption.</p> - -<p>“A woman?” cried his listeners simultaneously.</p> - -<p>“Certainly, a woman; it is a woman’s crime. From the time -when Rogers and Harding left until the discovery of the body -was a scant hour. To avoid all possible risks of interruption, -Marchburn did not arrange the interview until after five, so that -between that hour and six he was shot. At six he was dead, and -the doctor testified he must have been dead between fifteen and -thirty minutes when he was called in. So that fixes the time -of the shooting between half past five and six. Marchburn expected -a woman to call upon him that night, because he would -not have made such careful preparations for secrecy if his visitor -had been a man. He did not want his clerks to see his caller. -The time between her calling and the shooting was too short for -them to have quarreled; but it was long enough for her to have<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"></a>[27]</span> -made her demand and to have been refused by Marchburn. -Then she shot him.”</p> - -<p>“But the young man in the brown overcoat?” asked Johnson.</p> - -<p>“If the coroner had the slightest sense,” sneered the chief, “he -would have asked Wright if the ‘young man’ looked as if ‘he’ -were disguised, and Wright’s answer would have shown whether -he is merely a thick-skulled idiot or whether he has a hand in -this affair. But I’m glad the question was not asked, as the -woman will think her disguise has shielded her. But Wright -has given himself away by his answers. He says ‘the young -man’ had a handkerchief wrapped around his right hand, and -was holding it with his left, as if it hurt him. Isn’t that a woman’s -attitude? A man would have shoved his hand in his -pocket and held it there—at any rate, until he was in the street, -where no one would have noticed it or paid any attention to him. -But the woman doesn’t know how to use her pockets; her hand -hurts her, and she holds it out in full view, instead of hiding it, -as a man would have done. I’ll stake my reputation that the -young man in the brown overcoat is a woman, and that the woman -is the murderer of Mr. Marchburn.”</p> - -<p>The superintendent rapidly outlined his plans. “I want you,” -he said to Richardson, “to look up Marchburn’s past record in -the West. Look for the woman there, or for the chapter in his -life in which the woman figures. It’s there, although it may be -difficult to find. Johnson, you look up his record from the time -he came to New York to the day of his death. See if there is -any woman entanglement here. Keep your eye upon Wright. I -can’t quite size that man up. Look for the brown overcoat. -Now, Richardson, you’d better start right in, and wire me just as -soon as you strike anything.”</p> - -<p>In a few moments Johnson went back. “There is one thing I -don’t understand,” he said. “Why did the woman get in the -elevator at the tenth instead of the eleventh story?”</p> - -<p>“Easy enough to explain, and another indication that we are -dealing with a woman and not a man. When she left the office -her natural impulse was to walk down the stairs, to avoid meeting -any one, instead of courting observation, as a man would have done<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"></a>[28]</span> -under the circumstances. She walked down one flight; she -heard the cleaners moving about and dreaded meeting them, and -rang for the elevator as being less dangerous. Remember we are -dealing with a woman of no ordinary caliber,—one who is not a -seasoned criminal, and who thinks quickly.”</p> - -<p>From Johnson’s report next morning the superintendent learned -that Marchburn had moved to New York from the West five years -before his murder; that his only child, Lucille, was twenty years -old; that father and daughter were very much attached to one -another. Marchburn’s tastes were all domestic; he seldom stayed -out late at night, unless in company with his daughter; he was a -regular church attendant, and contributed liberally to its support -and to charities. His business was extremely profitable, his fortune -being considered very large.</p> - -<p>Walton read the report through and felt annoyed. It was not -what he wanted. He felt that he was right in charging a woman -with the crime; but how was he to find a woman who left no -traces behind her? Besides, the papers were growing impatient, -clamoring for an arrest, and indulging in satirical flings at the -impotence of the police. Suddenly an idea occurred to him. “I -ought to have thought of that before,” he said to himself. -“Rogers or Harding might know,” and the superintendent, once -more the cold, impassive man of affairs, walked quietly out of -his office.</p> - -<p>Superintendent Walton went briskly down town, thinking -deeply as he walked, and yet noticing everything that went on -around him. As he turned the corner of Silver Lane his eye fell -upon a portly, well-groomed man who was walking in front of -him. Walton was noted for never forgetting a man or woman -he had once known, and there was something about this man -which seemed familiar. Quickening his pace a little, the detective -pushed ahead until he came opposite a money-changer’s window, -and appeared to be intently gazing at the piles of gold and silver; -but out of the corner of one of his eyes he was carefully watching -for the man whom he hoped would soon pass. The superintendent -looked up and saw a well-preserved man of about sixty, with -florid complexion and carefully trimmed whiskers. He looked -like any one of hundreds of prosperous business men. Still trying<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"></a>[29]</span> -to fit the face to a name, Walton followed the man into Wall -Street, and as he passed the sub-treasury he saw Brixton coming -down the steps. The sight of the government agent was like a -flash in the dark, and the object he was groping for was instantly -made plain. The superintendent determined to take desperate -chances. “By gad,” he muttered, “I’ll risk it. If he’s the man -his voice will give him away.” Quickening his walk, he stepped -up to the man, and, tapping him on the shoulder, said very quietly:</p> - -<p>“I want you, John Marsh.”</p> - -<p>With perfect composure he began, “Excuse me, sir, I do not -know you—” but in the first three words his deep voice broke -into a theatrical falsetto.</p> - -<p>Walton smiled triumphantly. “Perhaps not; but I know you, -Marsh,” he said, with his hand still on the man’s arm.</p> - -<p>“This is the second time you have called me by that name. -My name is not Marsh. Pardon me if I say good-morning,” said -the other in perfectly modulated tones, and made a movement as -if to continue on his way.</p> - -<p>But Walton was not to be shaken off so lightly. “Wait a -minute,” he said, and his voice was as pleasant and his manner -as polite as that of the man whom he was addressing. “Perhaps -when I tell you that I am Superintendent of Police Walton, who -was chief of the detective bureau when we last met, you may -remember me.”</p> - -<p>“My dear sir, this is incomprehensible. I never had the -pleasure of meeting you before, and, as I have to attend a very -important meeting of the directors of my bank I must beg to be -excused. If you really are the chief of police, I think, instead of -wasting your time with reputable business men, you could better -afford to devote a little of your leisure to finding the murderer -of my dear old friend, Lawrence Marchburn.”</p> - -<p>“You were acquainted with Mr. Marchburn?”</p> - -<p>“Sir, I decline to submit to this impertinence any longer. If -you attempt to stop me further I shall call an officer.”</p> - -<p>“I think not,” said Walton, with a smile. “You are going -with me to headquarters, or I will accompany you to your bank; -which do you prefer?”</p> - -<p>“In two minutes I could show you what a fool you are making<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"></a>[30]</span> -of yourself; but I prefer to teach you a lesson. I submit to this -indignity in the interest of good government.”</p> - -<p>“All right, Marsh; I see you are the same old Chesterfield,—just -as smooth as ever. You’ve no objection if we ride, I suppose?” -and Walton hailed a passing cab. As they jogged up -town both men remained silent. Turning a corner, the cab gave -a sudden lurch, the superintendent’s hand in some mysterious -manner caught in his prisoner’s whiskers, and they came away -from his face. The two men looked one another squarely in the -eye. Marsh was the first to speak. “You’re a nervy one, superintendent,” -he said. “What do you want me for? I’m living -straight.”</p> - -<p>“I’m glad to hear it, but I want to have a quiet little talk with -you; besides, I heard you were dead.”</p> - -<p>Marsh smiled. The loss of his whiskers showed him to be a -man of about forty, with a firm jaw, a keen blue eye, and a high -forehead. “I wish to God I was dead,” he said. “When a man -tries to live straight he gets snagged and is disgraced.”</p> - -<p>The cab drew up at the big building on Mulberry Street, and -the superintendent, pushing his prisoner before him, led the way -to his private room. “Now, Marsh, you say you have been living -straight. Prove it and I’ll release you.”</p> - -<p>The man eyed his captor sullenly. “Not till I’ve seen a -lawyer,” he said.</p> - -<p>Walton touched an electric button. “Lock this man up,” he -said to the officer who appeared. As Marsh was led away the -chief pushed another button. “Bring me,” he said to the messenger, -“Convictions, letter M, ’84.”</p> - -<p>Hastily turning the pages, Walton read: “Marsh, John, alias -Gentleman John, generally known as Chesterfield, because of his -manners and politeness, born at Sodaville, Mich. All round -crook; specialty, counterfeiting United States notes. One of the -most dangerous men in his line. Convicted of counterfeiting and -sentenced to Albany for five years in 1870; sent to Jackson, -Mich., for three years for forgery in 1878; last conviction, Joliet, -counterfeiting, 1884, five years. See page 756.” Turning to -the page indicated, Walton read: “Escaped from Joliet and committed -suicide.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31"></a>[31]</span></p> - -<p>“So he didn’t commit suicide,” mused the chief. “Well, I -always had my doubts about it. I have an idea he had a hand in -this counterfeiting business, and if that’s so it’s a pretty good -morning’s work—almost as good as finding the Marchburn woman. -I had better let Brixton know about this; it may give -him a pointer.”</p> - -<p>A clerk brought in a telegram and handed it to the superintendent. -Walton read:</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Sodaville, Mich.</span>, Jan. 24.—Can you mail me at once portrait -of Chesterfield Marsh, escaped Joliet, and committed suicide -about 1884?</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Richardson.</span>”</p> - -</div> - -<p>“By Jove,” said the superintendent, “that’s curious. I wonder -what he’s struck now. Well, I guess I’ll hang onto Chesterfield -for a few days, anyway.” Then he telephoned to Brixton, -who was now working night and day on the counterfeit money -case, which divided public attention with the Marchburn mystery. -To the police these cases had proved two of the most remarkable -criminal problems they had ever been called upon to solve. -Congress had added to the excitement by adopting the recommendation -of the Secretary of the Treasury and offering a reward -of fifty thousand dollars for the arrest and conviction of the -counterfeiters.</p> - -<p>Brixton came in dejectedly in answer to the summons. To -Walton, who was an old friend, he admitted that he was -beaten.</p> - -<p>“Brace up, old man,” said Walton; “I’ve got something good -for you,” and he at once told him of the arrest of Marsh and -Richardson’s telegram.</p> - -<p>A gleam of excitement blazed from the secret service man’s -eyes. He jumped from his chair and paced the room a couple of -times before he could control himself; then, leaning over his -friend’s desk, he talked rapidly. “By jove, Walton, you’ve got -our man. There is only one man in the country who could have -done the job, and that’s Marsh. I have thought about him a -dozen times since I’ve been at work on the case, but always supposed -him to be dead. What a confounded idiot I am not to have<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32"></a>[32]</span> -investigated that suicide story; yet I never had reason to doubt -it.”</p> - -<p>Both men felt certain that they were at last hot on the right -trail, and that Marsh was still engaged in his old business of -counterfeiting. While discussing the next move to be made -Brixton suddenly said: “What does Richardson’s telegram -mean?”</p> - -<p>The words produced a peculiar effect upon Walton, which was -reflected in Brixton’s face. Both men scrutinized each other for -a brief space of time without speaking. It was as if they were -grappling with the same thought, and yet both were afraid to -frame in words what was passing through their minds. It was -Walton who at last broke the silence and in a nervous sort of way -said:—</p> - -<p>“That is absurd.”</p> - -<p>“What is?”</p> - -<p>“What you are thinking about.”</p> - -<p>It was curious that neither man had openly expressed his -thoughts, and yet each knew what was in the other’s mind just as -well as if the words had been uttered.</p> - -<p>“I don’t know about that. Of course it looks ridiculous to commence -with, but not any more so than that West Virginia case.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t remember that,” said Walton.</p> - -<p>“It was one of my most interesting jobs. For months we had -been trying to break up a gang of counterfeiters working in West -Virginia, and had failed, just as in the present instance. The -thing looked pretty bad, and the merchants of the State were so -worked up about the ‘queer’ that a bill was introduced in the -legislature authorizing the governor to employ private detectives, -as the government secret service men had shown their incompetence. -Before the bill was acted upon we arrested some of the -gang, and on the day when the bill came up for action we -obtained conclusive evidence that the member of the legislature -who introduced the bill was the brains of the gang. I went to -the capitol and listened to this man’s speech in support of his -measure, and after the bill had passed I arrested him and found -in his pockets some of the money made by his gang. I sent him -over the road.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33"></a>[33]</span></p> - -<p>“You think, then,” said Walton, “that Marchburn had some -connection with the counterfeiting gang.”</p> - -<p>“I do.”</p> - -<p>“Did Marsh murder Marchburn?”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know about that. I rather think not, because -Chesterfield, from what we know about him, is a coward and not -the man to kill; but he probably knows who did. There’s a connection -between the murder and the counterfeiting, and when we -pull the right string both knots will come untied.”</p> - -<p>Walton told his associate of his theory as to the murderer -being a woman.</p> - -<p>Brixton doubted it. “But it’s of no consequence,” he said. -“Whoever fired the shot was a member of the gang; Marchburn -knew him and expected him to call that evening. When we -land our man we shall have the murderer and the counterfeiter -as well.”</p> - -<p>How was Marsh to be made to confess? Numerous plans -were discussed and rejected. Finally Brixton made this suggestion: -“Make Chesterfield understand that he is suspected of the -murder and that you have the dots on him. You’ll have to -sweat him and put him through the third degree. Don’t say a -word about the counterfeiting. When he’s charged with the -murder, and things begin to look black, he will squeal to save -his neck. He’ll give his pals away dead sure and tell all he -knows about the counterfeiting. I believe the scheme will -work.”</p> - -<p>Walton agreed with him and proceeded without delay in putting -his prisoner through the sweating process. Early in the -morning he had read the papers in his cell, and a detective who -secretly watched him noticed that he devoured every line printed -about the Marchburn murder. Later, the superintendent had him -brought to his office and there subjected him to a rigorous cross-examination, -and no man knew better than he how to worm the -truth out of a criminal. But in Marsh he found more than a -match. He either dodged every question or else declined to -answer, and neither threats nor promises elicited anything of importance. -For more than an hour the man submitted to being -worried by his inquisitor, when at last he said:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34"></a>[34]</span></p> - -<p>“Chief, what are you trying to make against me?”</p> - -<p>Walton had not taxed him with the murder, as he hoped his -prisoner would make some incautious admission which would tell -him what he wanted to find out. But Marsh’s question seemed -to have made the time ripe for the great stroke. Looking him -steadily in the eye, the chief said: “For the murder of Lawrence -Marchburn.”</p> - -<p>The prisoner gave a short, nervous laugh. “You’re clean off,” -he said. “I didn’t murder him and I had nothing to do with it; -but I know the man who did.”</p> - -<p>Walton had counted upon his declaration producing a confession, -or at least some signs of weakness, but this answer astounded -him.</p> - -<p>The man never flinched. “It’s God’s truth. I can tell you -who committed the murder,” he repeated.</p> - -<p>“Very well; who did it?”</p> - -<p>But Marsh was too old a bird to be caught with chaff. “What -do I get if I tell?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“I think they would like to have you back in Joliet,” the chief -answered, “and that means five years to commence with. If you -give me the name of the man, and it is proven that you had -nothing to do with the murder, I will see that you are not -troubled.”</p> - -<p>Marsh appeared to be thinking deeply. “Shall I have to -appear as a witness?” he asked.</p> - -<p>“Not unless it is necessary; I won’t put you on the stand if I -can make the case without you.”</p> - -<p>“Will you release me as soon as you are satisfied you have the -right man?”</p> - -<p>“Yes.”</p> - -<p>“Then arrest Frank Richald, who was Mr. Marchburn’s stenographer. -He’s your man.”</p> - -<p>“How do you know?”</p> - -<p>“I won’t tell; but see if I am not right.”</p> - -<p>Walton ordered Marsh back to his cell, somewhat puzzled by -the result of the interview. He did not believe all that Marsh -had told him; but the mention of Richald’s name indicated that he -was getting down to the man’s confederates. There was only<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35"></a>[35]</span> -one thing to do. The superintendent ordered Johnson to arrest -Richald. He took his arrest quietly. Brought before Walton, he -said, without waiting to be questioned: “I am innocent; but circumstances -are against me.”</p> - -<p>With a quick, sudden movement, Walton seized hold of the -corner of the skirt of Richald’s brown overcoat and intently -examined a dark spot on the front. “Marchburn’s blood,” he -said tersely.</p> - -<p>“I know it,” was all the prisoner said.</p> - -<p>“Why did you murder him?” asked Walton.</p> - -<p>“I did not murder him,” he said firmly. “When I reached -the office on the night of the murder Mr. Marchburn was lying -dead on his desk. I was stunned and horrified. I know now I -should have given the alarm; but there were so many strange -things in connection with my being there at that hour that I foolishly -imagined my safety lay in flight. Some of Mr. Marchburn’s -blood was on my hand, and I bound my handkerchief around it -to escape observation. To avoid meeting any one I started to -walk down the stairs; then I was afraid the janitor might see me -and think it strange I was walking, so I called the elevator on -the floor below our office and rode down.”</p> - -<p>“What brought you back to the office that evening?” Walton -asked.</p> - -<p>“That I cannot tell you.”</p> - -<p>Walton ordered the young man to a cell.</p> - -<p>Next day the papers told of the arrest. They also added -something about the man who stood charged with the crime. -Richald was the son of a once former wealthy New York merchant, -whom every one respected. At his death it was found that -his estate was badly involved, and all that was left to his widow -and his two children was a small estate. On the interest of this -Mrs. Richald lived, her son contributing generously of his wages -to her support. Two years before the murder Frank had secured -a position with the Bank Note Company as Mr. Marchburn’s -stenographer.</p> - -<p>Walton now bent all his energies to securing a fuller confession -from his prisoner, to ascertaining what had become of the pistol, -and the motive for the crime. His best men were set to work<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36"></a>[36]</span> -raking over nearly every hour of Richald’s past life. Meanwhile, -at the earnest request of Brixton, Walton had decided to hold -onto Marsh. Walton was pretty well convinced that, while Marsh -did not commit the murder, he had some connection with it, and -was not going to let that elusive individual get out of his clutches -so long as there was a possibility of proving it. Brixton, on his -side, was certain that Marsh was in some way implicated in the -counterfeiting, and proposed to keep his eye upon him until he -could charge him with the crime or bring it home to some one else. -The capture of Marsh seemed like a lucky find.</p> - -<p>On the morning of the second day after Richald’s appearance in -court a carriage drew up in front of the police headquarters, from -which a stately looking elderly gentleman and a tall young woman -alighted. The gentleman asked to see the superintendent. -Walton did not need to look at the card to know his caller, -Phineas Yarrow, one of the noted lawyers of the city.</p> - -<p>The woman was dressed all in black, and was so slight that -she seemed unusually tall when standing alone. She remained -closely veiled.</p> - -<p>“This young lady is a friend of Mr. Richald’s,” said the lawyer. -“She is very anxious to speak with the prisoner. I am willing to -vouch for all she says or does.”</p> - -<p>Walton shot a keen glance at the girl. “This is rather unusual,” -he said; “but I will accede to your request, provided, of -course, the interview takes place in my presence.”</p> - -<p>Shortly afterward Richald entered the room, and as he caught -sight of the girl he trembled and appeared dazed. For a moment -she hesitated, then, with a cry which touched the hearts of the -older men, she rapidly crossed the room, threw her arms about the -young man’s neck, and kissed him passionately.</p> - -<p>Whether they were sweetheart and lover, husband and wife, or -brother and sister, Walton had no means for knowing; but that the -girl played an important part in the case he felt certain. Hurriedly -writing a line, he handed it to an officer, and from that time Frank -Richald’s visitor was under the shadow of the law.</p> - -<p>For several minutes the prisoner and his visitor conversed in -anxious whispers; then, going to the lawyer, the young woman -said: “After you have shown me to the carriage Mr. Richald has<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37"></a>[37]</span> -something important to say to you. He will tell you everything.”</p> - -<p>“Now tell me all,” said the lawyer, seating himself by the side -of Richald. In eager whispers he told his story. When he -had finished the old lawyer paced up and down the room, showing -that he was laboring under intense excitement. Stopping suddenly, -he said: “You must repeat this to the superintendent, -here and now.”</p> - -<p>Without hesitating, Richald in a firm voice commenced his -recital—Yarrow an excited listener, and the superintendent coolly -indifferent; but Richald had spoken for only a few moments -when Walton’s studied indifference gave way and he was soon -closely following every word. When the young man had finished -the superintendent leaned across his desk, and, clasping his hand, -said, “I believe you.”</p> - -<p>“But there is no time to be lost,” he continued. Pushing -several of the electric buttons on his desk, he gave his orders to -the officers who appeared. Then, turning, he said, “Mr. Yarrow, -will you come back at six o’clock this evening? And, Mr. Richald, -I shall still have to subject you to my hospitality.”</p> - -<p>That evening the lawyer once more entered the superintendent’s -room. He found Walton and Richald busily engaged in -conversation, and with them was Brixton. “Now we will get -to business,” said the superintendent, seating himself at his desk.</p> - -<p>Into this company Marsh was called. “In the first place,” -said the superintendent, “it may be well to explain that Lawrence -Marchburn and the prisoner were brothers.” Turning to Marsh, -he said, “Now tell us your story.”</p> - -<p>“You know all about me, superintendent,” the man commenced, -and his eyes were fixed upon Walton, as if he alone were -present, “and that I have always been a counterfeiter and a crook. -I went crooked very young. My father was a man of considerable -means, and my brother Lawrence, who was always of a -jealous and grasping disposition, worked upon him so that he -refused to have anything to do with me. When he died he left -all his money to Lawrence and cut me off without a penny. -When I escaped from Joliet I determined to make a last appeal -to my brother for help. I reached his house late one night and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38"></a>[38]</span> -he received me in his library. At first he told me never to enter -his house again, but during our conversation he changed his mind, -and after he had given me food he said:</p> - -<p>“‘Jack, they tell me you are one of the cleverest counterfeiters -in the country.’</p> - -<p>“I answered that I believed I had that unenviable reputation.</p> - -<p>“‘Then here’s a scheme. I’m in a pretty tight hole. I have -lost a good deal of money lately in speculation, and I have used -some belonging to an estate. I am going to start a factory to -make counterfeits. I shall have an office in New York and a -factory in New Jersey, where we can work undisturbed and everything -will look straight. I have money enough to start the -factory and buy all the machinery. After a year we can retire -with two fortunes and become respectable. If you have any -scruples of conscience I’ll pay your fare back to Joliet.’</p> - -<p>“Of course I consented. There was nothing else I could do.</p> - -<p>“I fell in love with and married the daughter of my landlady, -and when the baby came she was the happiest woman in the -world, and I—” Marsh passed his hand across his face and there -was a catch in his voice which showed the struggle he was making -to remain calm.</p> - -<p>“Well, I was determined to quit the whole business and live -straight. I told this to Lawrence, and that I wanted my share -of the money he was keeping for me. We had a dispute, but -settled it by my agreeing to remain another six months.</p> - -<p>“Just before the time was up he went to my wife and told her -I was an escaped convict, but that he was trying to get things -fixed so I need not fear arrest. He warned her not to allow me -to go away, as that would be dangerous. She told me all. Then -I resolved to end the matter at once. When he next came to the -factory he told me that Richald, his stenographer, had discovered -what we were doing, and would give the snap away. He said -something must be done to close Richald’s mouth until he could -close up the factory and clear out. He pretended to be fully as -frightened as I was, and I was badly scared, for I did not at -last want to be lagged. So I agreed to do whatever he thought -best.</p> - -<p>“He sent for me to come to New York. It had been arranged<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39"></a>[39]</span> -that I should go to his office, knock three times on the door, and -if the clerks were all gone my brother would open it. After he -had done so, he said, in the most cold-blooded way, that Richald -would be there in a quarter of an hour; that we must get him to -go to the factory, and on the way there, in a lonely spot, shoot -him. He would make it appear that Richald had stolen some -bonds, and when his body was found it would look like suicide. -I told him that, whatever had been my past life, <i>I</i> would not commit -murder. He cursed me for a coward, and said he would have -me sent back to jail. I defied and left him.”</p> - -<p>“Now,” said the superintendent, turning to Richald, “will you -tell your story?”</p> - -<p>“Two years ago,” began Richald, who was trembling with excitement, -caused by Marsh’s recital, “I was engaged as stenographer -by Mr. Marchburn, and shortly after became engaged to his -daughter, the young lady who was here to-day. A few months -ago we were secretly married, and about that time I accidentally -overheard a conversation between Mr. Marchburn and his brother, -which put me in possession of the colossal plot to swindle the -government. I was in doubt as to my duty in the matter, but -finally concluded to tell Mr. Marchburn what I knew. He declared -that Marsh was the real head of the conspiracy, but, owing -to circumstances, he had been unable to extricate himself from -his clutches; he would, however, close up the factory as soon as -possible. On the day of the murder Mr. Marchburn made an appointment -for me at his office. Before leaving for New Jersey he -handed me a package which he said contained several thousand -dollars in negotiable securities, which he intended to have taken -to his bank, but had forgotten to do so, and requested that I bring -it back to the office later.</p> - -<p>“I was a few minutes late in keeping my appointment, and -when I entered Mr. Marchburn’s room I found him dead. It -flashed across my mind that I might be accused of the murder; -that it would be difficult for me to account for the securities, and -in explaining my presence in the office I should have to reveal -the conspiracy, which, for the sake of Mr. Marchburn’s daughter, -I was reluctant to do. Yielding to a sudden impulse, I left the -office, without raising an alarm. And—”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40"></a>[40]</span></p> - -<p>Just then an electric bell rang and the superintendent put his -ear to a tube that hung above his chair. As he listened his face -flushed. He looked up and, with an accent of conviction that -caused Marsh to move uneasily in his chair, exclaimed: “Gentlemen, -at last the missing link is at hand!”</p> - -<p>The next moment the door was thrown open and an officer -ushered in a middle-aged man with a traveling-bag in his hand. -Stooping over the superintendent’s chair, the officer engaged him -in a whispered conversation. As he proceeded, a look of triumph -shone in the superintendent’s eyes. Swinging around suddenly -in his chair toward Marsh, he asked abruptly: “Marsh, did you -ever see this man before?” For several moments the prisoner, -with eager curiosity, eyed the new-comer from head to foot. -Then, turning to the superintendent, he said, with attempted -composure, but with that tell-tale falsetto break in his voice, “No, I -never saw him—”</p> - -<p>“That’s the man!” cried the stranger, advancing and pointing -excitedly to the prisoner. “I could tell his voice among a million.” -Then, turning to Walton, he continued breathlessly, “Mr. -Superintendent, on the evening of the murder I was in my insurance -office in Temple Court. I had just been called to the bedside -of my sick wife in Florida and rang up the sleeping-car -office in Jersey City to engage a berth. I couldn’t get the connection, -as the wires were crossed. I rang again and again, but, -instead of getting a reply from the central office, I heard a -violent quarrel going on between two men. One of them threatened -to call the police, and the other shouted, ‘If you do that I’ll -shoot you.’ Indeed, I did hear what sounded like the muffled -report of a pistol. At that moment I was connected by the -central office, and thought no more of the matter until I was -seated in the cars an hour later. Then, in recalling the affair, it -occurred to me that possibly I had overheard a scrap of a theatrical -rehearsal, because the voice of the man who threatened to shoot -had a stagy sort of falsetto break in it. And it wasn’t until I was -overtaken three days ago by New York papers containing full -accounts of the Marchburn murder that I knew that I held the -clue to the mystery. An hour later I was on the way to New -York and came directly here from the train.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41"></a>[41]</span></p> - -<p>“Gentlemen,” said the stranger, pausing impressively and -pointing to the cowering figure of the prisoner, “that is the man -whose voice I heard over the telephone. I heard him speak. I -heard him threaten. I heard him rush across the floor. I heard -him fire the fatal shot. It was he who murdered Lawrence -Marchburn!”</p> - -<p>Four months later the jury gave the same verdict.</p> - -<div class="figcenter illowp100" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/footer3.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42"></a>[42]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="Their_Colonial_Villa">Their Colonial Villa.</h2> - -<p class="center">BY CHARLES BARNARD.</p> - -<p class="center">The right to dramatize is reserved by the author.</p> - -</div> - -<div> -<img class="dropcap" src="images/dropcap5.jpg" width="150" height="150" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">“It is very inconvenient to be obliged to live in -one place all the time. If we had two houses, -we could spend part of the time in one and -part of the time in the other.”</p> - -<p>Young Mrs. Arburton was one of those fortunate -brides who are able to set up housekeeping -immediately on the return from the wedding journey. -Young Mr. Arburton thought it best to build or buy a small -house and to furnish and occupy it as soon as possible.</p> - -<p>“Of course, my love, I see how important it is that the house -should be close down by the river bank near your office, so that -you can come home to lunch, and I do so enjoy seeing the steamboats -pass on the river.”</p> - -<p>“Good idea. I must be handy to business.”</p> - -<p>“And at the same time, you must see, John, that I’ve always -lived at the court end of the town, on the bluff overlooking the -river and near the shops and the homes of the best people. That’s -why I think it would be so nice if we could have two houses, one -down by the river near your office, and one in town, on the -Heights and near the churches and all the nice people. We -could live every other week in each house.”</p> - -<p>They were staying at her mother’s on the Heights, pending -the purchase or erection of the new house. Mrs. Arburton had advanced -this happy thought of having two homes at the breakfast -table. The idea pleased her mother greatly, and she remarked -to her son-in-law that, in her opinion, it was an excellent arrangement. -She would gladly live in the uptown house and -take care of it while they were spending the week in the other -house down by the river.</p> - -<p>“My love, we must do it. We never need move anything, for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43"></a>[43]</span> -you could keep a suit of clothes in each house. I’m sure I shall -never be happy to live down on the riverside. There’s really nobody -living there, and still I never, never can be happy if you are -not able to come home to lunch.”</p> - -<p>Young Mr. Arburton quite agreed with his wife and her -mother. It would be very desirable to live on the bluff, two -hundred feet above the river, and very desirable to live immediately -below, down by the boat landing and near the office. It -would be very convenient to live in two places at the same time. -How to do it was the problem.</p> - -<p>Immediately after breakfast young Mr. Arburton started off to -business. To reach the lower level of the city, where his office -and his great lumber yards stood close by the river, and almost -immediately under the lofty bluff on which the new or upper -town was built, he was obliged to take a trolley car that slid -swiftly down a long iron viaduct or inclined plane. There had -been at one time, before the days of the trolley, a more direct, -but much slower method of reaching the lower town. This was -a sort of huge hoist or elevator, upon which the horse-cars were -slowly dragged up and down by means of a cable. At present, -this route was seldom used, as it was, in the opinion of the general -public, altogether too dilatory transit.</p> - -<p>Business was quiet that day, and Mr. Arburton had ample opportunity -to consider the problem of keeping house in two places -at the same time. He felt sure he must gratify his wife’s natural -desire to live in town, and he was equally sure he must reside -in the immediate neighborhood of his yard and its great interests. -It was very like the ancient question as to what would happen if -a body, moving with perfectly irresistible momentum, were to -meet a perfectly immovable body.</p> - -<p>He returned home that night quite radiant. He had solved -the question.</p> - -<p>“It is all right, my love. It can be done.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! I felt sure you would see that my idea was admirable. -Which house shall you build first—the one on the Heights or -the house down by the river?”</p> - -<p>“Both can be built at the same time.”</p> - -<p>“Well, dear, of course, you see the house up here in this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44"></a>[44]</span> -fashionable quarter must lie much larger and nicer than the house -down by those horrid lumber yards. I shan’t mind if the lower -house is a plain little box. No one will ever call there, and -any simple, inexpensive, wooden cottage will answer. Besides, -while we are staying down there I shall not receive at all, and -I shall have my cards marked with our uptown address.”</p> - -<p>“Very well,” remarked Mr. Arburton; “I’ll see the architect. -I dare say it can be fixed.”</p> - -<p>Mrs. Arburton and her mother were delighted, and when Mr. -Arburton suggested that he wished the new house—</p> - -<p>“You mean the new houses, dear.”</p> - -<p>“We’ll waive that—it’s only a detail—our future domiciles -are to be a surprise.”</p> - -<p>“How lovely in you, dear. You mean you intend to build and -furnish them complete without letting me see them?”</p> - -<p>“That’s about the idea. Leave it all to me.”</p> - -<p>“Then, my love, mother and I will visit Aunt Sarah in New -York for a month.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Arburton was hardly prepared for this. To lose his -young wife for two months was not a wholly pleasant prospect. -However, he expressed himself as resigned; for he would be -very busy building and furnishing the new house.</p> - -<p>“You mean our new houses, dear. I declare it is an inspiration. -We can spend every other week in society and have the other week -to rest in peace and be by ourselves, quite out of the world.”</p> - -<p>The next day young Mrs. Arburton and her mother started for -New York, and young Mr. Arburton went to the office of the -defunct horse railroad company to see about a house lot, it being -reported that they had real estate to sell—cheap.</p> - -<p>Thirty-two days later young Mrs. Arburton and her mother -returned. It was dark when they arrived, and of course they -went at once to their former home. Naturally the return of the -young wife had a most happy effect upon the young husband. -He was lively, was merry, and seemed to be immensely amused -over the prospect of moving at once into the new house.</p> - -<p>“Is it all done?” cried both ladies, “and so soon?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, it don’t take long to knock up a house in these days. -We can move in to-night. Everything is ready for you.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45"></a>[45]</span></p> - -<p>“Which house shall we live in first?”</p> - -<p>“Take your choice.”</p> - -<p>“Then I’ll spend the first week in the uptown house.”</p> - -<p>“All right. I thought so. As soon as you have had supper -we’ll go over there.”</p> - -<p>“Is it far from here?”</p> - -<p>“No. Only a short walk. I thought you might like to be -near your mother.”</p> - -<p>“My love, you are an angel!”</p> - -<p>This remark clearly indicated an unstable frame of mind, and -further reports of the conversation may be cheerfully omitted.</p> - -<p>About nine o’clock the young couple started, satchels in hand, -to take possession of their new home on the Heights. Mrs. -Arburton was charmed. It was just what she wanted, a pretty -two-story colonial villa at the end of a broad avenue, and close -to the edge of the bluff overlooking the river. The parlor was -small, but exquisite, the dining-room cozy, the kitchen perfection.</p> - -<p>“Oh, and the view from the chamber window! Isn’t it grand? -Why, the house must be on the very edge of the bluff. My -love, you have made me perfectly happy. It is such a pretty -house, and right in the very best neighborhood.”</p> - -<p>The next morning, immediately after breakfast, Mr. Arburton -remarked that he would come home to lunch.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, dear. I wouldn’t think of it. It’s too far to come -way up here just for lunch. I’ll put up a little basket for you.”</p> - -<p>“It will not take me two minutes to run over here from the -office. I’ll come home at noon.”</p> - -<p>This he said as they stood at the kitchen door.</p> - -<p>“What on earth are you talking about—”</p> - -<p>She would have said more, but just at that moment her husband -opened the back door and stepped out into the dusty road -that led to his lumber yard. Mrs. Arburton stood by the door, -looking up and down the commonplace road, at the towering -piles of lumber across the way, at the tall stacks of a passing -steamboat, just visible over the lumber heaps.</p> - -<p>She kissed her husband in a mechanical way, and then closed -the door and went to her chamber and sat down by the window. -Clearly this was the lower town. There had been some mistake.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"></a>[46]</span> -She finished her morning household duties and dressed to go out. -Leaving the house by the most convenient way, she crossed the -street, and, turning back, looked at the house. It was a plain, -three-story wooden house, and in every way suitable for such a -commonplace business neighborhood.</p> - -<p>“I must have been dreaming about that colonial villa. I’ll go -and call on mother.”</p> - -<p>She took the trolley car up the great incline to the upper town -and went to her mother’s house. The moment she arrived her -mother began to ask about the new house.</p> - -<p>“Oh, it’s just a plain, three-story, wooden affair down by the -lumber yard.”</p> - -<p>“I thought you were to occupy the uptown house first.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, I thought so, too; but we stayed last night in the lower -town.”</p> - -<p>Promptly at noon, just as the big whistle roared its hoarse summons -to rest, Mrs. Arburton returned to her humble dwelling in -the lower town. Lunch was served at once, and then her husband -returned to business, leaving his wife alone in the new house. -She explored it thoroughly, and felt sure that the parlor and dining-room -were the same as she had dreamed about the night -before. At six o’clock Mr. Arburton returned to dinner, and -after that he proposed that they make a few calls on friends in -the upper town.</p> - -<p>“Oh, no, not to-night. It’s too far and we shall be so late -getting back again.”</p> - -<p>“Nonsense, my dear. Put on your things and I’ll be ready in -two minutes.”</p> - -<p>Five minutes later young Mrs. Arburton appeared arrayed in -her best.</p> - -<p>“I suppose the nearest way is to go out the back door.”</p> - -<p>“What’s the use of a front door if we do not use it?” said her -husband. So saying, he opened the front door and led her out -into the brilliantly lighted avenue in the upper town.</p> - -<p>Mrs. Arburton was perplexed. She took her husband’s arm -and walked on for a few steps in silence. Then she stopped and -looked back at the house. It was the colonial villa of her dream. -Was it a dream? She wanted to ask questions, but wisely said<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47"></a>[47]</span> -nothing. The young couple spent the evening in calling, and then -returned to their home.</p> - -<p>Early the next morning Mrs. Arburton drew up the curtains of -her room and looked out. There, far below, were the river and -the lower town. It was not a dream.</p> - -<p>Then for a week nothing in particular happened. Mrs. Arburton -was entirely happy in her charming colonial villa. Her mother -called and admired everything.</p> - -<p>“I suppose next week you will bury yourselves in the lower -town. Of course your other house cannot be equal to this -lovely place.”</p> - -<p>“I don’t know, I’m sure. I haven’t seen it yet.”</p> - -<p>“Why, my child, you told me it was a plain three-story affair. -You said you stayed there that first night.”</p> - -<p>“Did I? I must have been dreaming.”</p> - -<p>The next morning young Mrs. Arburton began to wonder if -her mind had given way. She was awakened by the hoarse boom -of the lumber yard whistle. She drew up her curtain and pulled -it down, again quickly. The street was full of teams. She -pinched her arm. She looked at the mantel clock. No; she was -awake. Being a wise woman, she said nothing, and after breakfast -she bade her husband good-by at the back door.</p> - -<p>“I’ll run over to lunch, dear.”</p> - -<p>“Very well, Mr. Arburton.”</p> - -<p>He looked at her with a peculiar smile.</p> - -<p>“What’s the matter, love? Are you offended?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, dear, no! I’m a little—a little confused, that’s all. I’ll -go and call on mother. I’ll feel better—for a walk.”</p> - -<p>“Yes, do. Take the trolley back to town.”</p> - -<p>She did, and the moment she reached the broad avenues of the -upper city she left the car and stood irresolute on the sidewalk.</p> - -<p>“I wish I had been more observing. Let me see. There was -a row of trees on each side, and the houses were all of Milwaukee -brick.”</p> - -<p>She wandered up and down several streets and avenues looking -for the colonial villa.</p> - -<p>“It was so stupid in me not to know the street and number of -our own house. If I knew that I could ask a policeman. I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48"></a>[48]</span> -declare, I was never so turned round in my life. This looks like -the neighborhood—and yet—”</p> - -<p>She gave it up in despair and took the trolley back to her -home in the lower town. Then for several days nothing happened. -Mrs. Arburton tried to be happy and failed miserably. -Her husband, of course, observed it, and said at the dinner -table:</p> - -<p>“My love, I fear you do not enjoy being down here among -these lumber yards and shops. After dinner we’ll go up town.”</p> - -<p>She was delighted. When she reached the Heights she would -ask him to take her to the other house. Immediately after dinner -she went to her room to put on her hat. When she came -down again she found her husband calmly reading in the drawing-room.</p> - -<p>“I thought we were going to the Heights, dear.”</p> - -<p>He looked up in some surprise, and, instead of replying, asked -if she wished to go out.</p> - -<p>“Yes. I do. I—I want to go to mother’s.”</p> - -<p>“Certainly, my love. I’ll go with you.”</p> - -<p>A moment later he was ready, and calmly opened the front -door and led her out into the broad, familiar avenue in the upper -town.</p> - -<p>She stood bewildered on the stoop, and looked at the street, -at the lemon-colored houses opposite, and at the colonial villa behind -her.</p> - -<p>“What are you waiting for, dear?”</p> - -<p>“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering where we live.”</p> - -<p>“Why, how absent you are, dear. This is our uptown house.”</p> - -<p>It was all right. The other house was the dream. They -spent a pleasant evening with her mother, and then they returned -home. It was indeed all right, and just as it should be. She -had certainly eaten something that was not best for her, or she -would not have dreamed three times about the house by the -river. Under the assurance of a stable residence in one place -Mrs. Arburton’s spirits rose, and her health visibly improved. -She resolved never to mention her absurd dream about the other -house. She felt sure that it had never been built—and yet! -Oh! she would not think about it any more. She would enjoy<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49"></a>[49]</span> -the happy present in her lovely colonial villa in the fashionable -quarter of the town.</p> - -<p>Mr. Arburton never came home to lunch now. He started off -very early every morning, and was always late to dinner. It was -not in young Mrs. Arburton’s nature to ignore this long.</p> - -<p>“My love,” she said one stormy night when he came home -tired, cold, and hungry, “My love, if the other house is finished -we might go there and stay till this stormy weather is over. I -miss you dreadfully at lunch, and it’s such a pity to let you travel -so far in the rain.”</p> - -<p>“All right, my dear. It would be better to go back again.”</p> - -<p>“Back again!” Then it was not a dream.</p> - -<p>The next morning young Mrs. Arburton was convinced that her -mind was entirely unhinged. She did not dare to mention it to -her husband. She went about her morning duties mechanically. -They were in the lower town house. She knew the smell of the -lumber yards only too well.</p> - -<p>The thing was unbearable. She would settle the matter or -perish in the attempt. The moment her husband had gone to his -office she put on her things, took the trolley, and went up to the -Heights. She found the avenue without the slightest difficulty. -The colonial villa had totally disappeared. She asked a policeman -if he had seen a white villa in the neighborhood. The man -grinned broadly and said he guessed it was off duty.</p> - -<p>She turned away indignant. What did the insolent creature -mean? Nothing was to be gained by waiting there, and she took -the trolley back home. On reaching the lower town she lost her -way for the first time in her life. She wandered past several -lumber yards, looking for that three-story house, and could not -find it. Once she felt sure she had reached the spot—the house -was not there. Thoroughly alarmed at what she regarded as her -serious mental condition, she went at once to her husband’s -office.</p> - -<p>“Mr. Arburton is here?”</p> - -<p>“No, ma’am. He started to go up to the Heights on business, -and said he should stay to lunch at his house.”</p> - -<p>That explained everything. The house by the lumber yards -was simply a fancy of her disordered brain. She would go at<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50"></a>[50]</span> -once to their villa-home on the Heights. On arriving there she -was not able to find it. Now thoroughly alarmed, she decided to -go to her mother’s. Both her homes had disappeared, perhaps -forever. She put her hand to her fevered brow. It was icy cold. -She trembled as if chilled with terror.</p> - -<p>“To think that beautiful home was all a wild fancy—to think -I’ve lost that dear, homely, lovely, hideous house by the lumber -yards. I fairly loved it. I’ll never stir out of it again—not -even to find that colonial villa. And my husband, too,—he may -be a fancy—a mere phantom—”</p> - -<p>She looked at her wedding ring.</p> - -<p>“No. I suppose he is real—”</p> - -<p>She stood silent and tearful, looking off over the vast prospect -spread out below her. The avenue ended at the very edge of -the bluff and gave a magnificent view over the river and valley -below—the very view she had dreamed she saw from that -chamber window—</p> - -<p>Suddenly a picturesque chimney appeared above the edge of -the bluff. Then two pretty finials of wrought iron. Then a red -roof appeared. Was she dreaming—or—? A number of -people on the sidewalk stopped to view the remarkable spectacle. -She heard a policeman remark aloud:</p> - -<p>“The quare house is going on duty agin.”</p> - -<p>The colonial villa stood before her. The front door opened -and her husband appeared.</p> - -<p>“Lunch is ready, love. Come in as soon as you can, as I want -to move back to the lower town.”</p> - -<p>“My dear! Am I crazy—?”</p> - -<p>“Guess not. Where have you been all this time?”</p> - -<p>“But, love!” she cried, “is my mind unbalanced?”</p> - -<p>“Guess not. You seem reasonable.”</p> - -<p>“Is this our uptown house?”</p> - -<p>“Certainly, dear. Do come in to lunch.”</p> - -<p>“Then where is—the other house?”</p> - -<p>“Right here. Do come into the house, dear. The elevator -boy is in a hurry to move her back again, as he can’t go to dinner -till we are safe at the bottom of the hill.”</p> - -<p>Young Mrs. Arburton entered her uptown house and closed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51"></a>[51]</span> -the door. When in the privacy of her colonial dining-room she -kissed her husband with enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>“My love! It is distinctly great. How does it work?”</p> - -<p>“Touch the button in the kitchen once, and the elevator boy -will move her up. Touch twice and he will let her down again. -You see, dear, I found it was not convenient to live in two houses -at the same time, so I bought the old horse-car elevator and put a -house in the car.”</p> - -<p>“But, my love—the colonial villa and the cheap three-story -frame house.”</p> - -<p>“Oh! That’s all right. The front is early colonial, the back -is recent American, as befits the two landings on the elevator.”</p> - -<p>“How perfectly lovely. When I don’t want to be at home to -the people on the Heights I live below, and when I’m tired of the -lumber yard people I’ll live at the top.”</p> - -<p>“Yes. And when we don’t want to see anybody, we can stop -her half way. Come. Let’s have lunch while she slides down.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter illowp100" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> - <img class="w100" src="images/footer4.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52"></a>[52]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">ADVERTISEMENTS</h2> - -</div> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad02.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p><b>Mrs. Jack Frost</b> doesn’t mind the cold, not a bit!</p> - -<p>Why <i>should</i> she when her skirt and coat are lined with SPONGE -CRÉPON which makes her so stylish to look upon, and keeps her as warm -as a toast? She uses the “Red Selvedge” brand of Sponge Crépon with the -famous linen net interweaving that makes it so light that you wouldn’t -know it was there if it wasn’t for the beauty and comfort it gives.</p> - -<p class="center">Copyright ap’d for.</p> - -<p class="center">We’ll send our booklet, “France—the Mother of Fashions,” and free -samples, if you’ll write.</p> - -<p class="center">Sponge Cloth Mfg. Co., P. O. Box 160, Lockport, N. Y., Makers.<br /> -Gilbert Mfg. Co., Dept. W., 514-516 Broadway, New York, Sole Agents.</p> - -<p class="center">When writing please mention <span class="smcap">The Black Cat</span>.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53"></a>[53]</span></p> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad03.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p class="center">AYER’S</p> - -<p class="noindent">The blossom of beauty roots in the blood.</p> - -<p class="noindent">The blemishes of beauty,—pimples, blotches, eruptions,—can be removed by -purifying the blood with</p> - -<p class="right">AYER’S SARSAPARILLA.</p> - -<p class="noindent">Curebook No. 1 tells about it. Free.<br /> -J.C. Ayer Co., Lowell, Mass.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54"></a>[54]</span></p> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad04.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p class="center">THE BOSTON HERALD.</p> - -<p class="center">New England’s Greatest Newspaper.</p> - -<p>The New England advertising field is the best on this continent.</p> - -<p>In this great field The Boston Herald stands supreme. Its circulation, -character, and influence make it the ideal newspaper.</p> - -<p class="center">Its Purchasing Power is Unequalled.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55"></a>[55]</span></p> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad05.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p class="center">10 times out of 10</p> - -<p class="noindent">The New York Journal recently offered ten bicycles to the ten winners in -a guessing contest, leaving the choice of machine to each.</p> - -<p class="center">ALL OF THEM CHOSE</p> - -<p class="center">Columbia<br />Bicycles</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="u">STANDARD OF THE WORLD</span></p> - -<p class="noindent">Nine immediately, and one after he had looked at others. And the Journal -bought Ten Columbias. Paid $100 each for them.</p> - -<p class="center">On even terms a Columbia will be chosen<br /> -TEN times out of TEN</p> - -<p class="center">POPE MANUFACTURING CO.<br /> -HARTFORD, CONN.</p> - -<p class="center">1896 Art Catalogue free from the Columbia agent; by mail for two 2-cent -stamps.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56"></a>[56]</span></p> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad06.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p class="center">Consumption</p> - -<p class="center">AND ITS CURE</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">To the Editor</span>:—I have an absolute remedy for Consumption. By its -timely use, thousands of hopeless cases have been already permanently -cured. So proof-positive am I of its power that I consider it my duty -to <i>send two bottles free</i> to those of your readers who have -Consumption, Throat, Bronchial or Lung Trouble, if they will write me -their express and postoffice address. Sincerely,</p> - -<p class="noindent">T. A. SLOCUM, M. C., 183 Pearl St., New York.</p> - -<p class="center">In writing please say you saw this in The Black Cat.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">IF YOU’RE A<br /> -PIPE SMOKER</p> - -<p class="center">A TRIAL<br /> -<span class="smcap">Will Convince that<br /> -Golden Sceptre</span><br /> -IS PERFECTION</p> - -<p>SEND 10cts FOR <span class="smcap">Sample Package</span>—PRICES 1lb 1.30; ¼lb 40cts. -POSTAGE PAID, CATALOGUE FREE. <span class="smcap">Surbrug, 159 Fulton St., N.Y. City.</span></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">The Imperial Hair Regenerator</p> - -<p class="noindent">NO MATTER HOW GRAY YOUR HAIR IS—OR BLEACHED—OR SPOILED BY DYES—MAKES IT -BEAUTIFUL, NATURAL, HEALTHY.</p> - -<p class="noindent"><b>Restores</b> Gray Hair to its Original Color.</p> - -<p class="noindent"><b>Regenerates</b> Bleached Hair.</p> - -<p>Gives it new life and vigor, and makes it any color desired.</p> - -<p>It is guaranteed by court tests absolutely harmless—and genuine. There -are many substitutes. Refuse to take them.</p> - -<ul> -<li>No. 1.—Black.</li> -<li>No. 2.—Dark Brown.</li> -<li>No. 3.—Medium Brown.</li> -<li>No. 4.—Chestnut.</li> -<li>No. 5.—Light Chestnut.</li> -<li>No. 6.—Gold Blonde.</li> -<li>No. 7.—Ash Blonde.</li> -</ul> - -<p class="center">PRICE, $1.50 and $3.00.</p> - -<p class="center">Send a sample of your hair, and we will restore its color free of charge.</p> - -<p class="center">IMPERIAL CHEMICAL MFG. CO.<br /> -292 Fifth Avenue, New York.<br /> -Between 30th and 31st Streets. Take Elevator.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57"></a>[57]</span></p> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad07.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p class="center"><i class="u">Guaranteed Circulation.</i></p> - -<p class="center"><i>On the proof-slip of every advertisement set in the Composing Room of -the</i></p> - -<p class="center">Boston Post</p> - -<p class="center"><i>appears this</i></p> - -<p class="center">GUARANTEE:</p> - -<p><i>This advertisement is accepted on the distinct guarantee that the -regular actual, bona fide sales of the Daily <b>Post</b> in Boston and -vicinity, <b>Each Morning</b>, are <b>greater</b> than those of the -<b>Herald</b> and <b>Globe combined</b>.</i></p> - -<p class="right"><i>FIRST IN<br />MORNING<br />SALES.</i></p> - -<p class="center"><span class="u">SLIP FROM</span><br />THE</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Boston Post.</i></p> - -<p class="center">December Circulation.</p> - -<table> - <tr> - <td><i>Daily Average</i></td> - <td><b>86,753</b></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><i>Sunday Average</i></td> - <td><b>96,160</b></td> - </tr> -</table> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"></a>[58]</span></p> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad08.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p class="center">Puritana</p> - -<p class="center"><i>It Cures from head to foot.</i></p> - -<p class="center">Trade-Mark.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>It makes the Weak Strong.</i></p> - -<p class="center">Nature’s Cure</p> - -<p>Puritana cures disease by naturalizing and vitalizing the Power Producer -of the human system,—the stomach.</p> - -<p class="center">PRIZE FORMULA OF<br /> -Prof. Dixi Crosby, M.D., LL.D.<br /> -DARTMOUTH COLLEGE</p> - -<p>It cures case after case, <i>from head to foot</i>, whether the suffering -is due to disordered <i>Blood, Liver, Stomach, Kidneys, Lungs, Brain, -Nerves, or Skin</i>.</p> - -<p>If you are a sufferer get of your druggist this great disease-conquering -discovery, (the price is $1 for the complete treatment, consisting of -one bottle of Puritana, one bottle of Puritana Pills, and one bottle -of Puritana Tablets), all enclosed in one package, or write to the -undersigned, and you will bless the day when you heard of Puritana. The -Puritana Compound Co., Concord, N. H.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">RUB IT IN that....</p> - -<p class="center">The Orient</p> - -<p class="center">(Built like this.)</p> - -<p class="center">Is the FINEST Wheel of ’96.</p> - -<table> -<tr> -<td style="vertical-align: top;"> - -<p>Branches:</p> - -<ul> -<li>Chicago</li> -<li>Boston</li> -<li>Brooklyn</li> -<li>New York</li> -<li>Detroit</li> -<li>Omaha</li> -<li>Waltham</li> -</ul> - -</td> -<td style="vertical-align: top;"> - -<p>Features:</p> - -<ul> -<li>Big Balls</li> -<li>Big Hubs</li> -<li>Big Tubing</li> -<li>Pneumatic Saddles</li> -<li>Orient Fork</li> -<li>Adjustable Pedals</li> -</ul> - -</td> -</tr> -</table> - -<p class="center">The<br /> -Waltham Mfg. Co.<br /> -241 Broadway,<br /> -New York, N. Y.</p> - -<p class="center">Write for Cat.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">IF YOU WANT THE BEST GARDEN</p> - -<p class="center">in your neighborhood this season</p> - -<p class="center">PLANT OUR FAMOUS</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Seeds and Plants</span></p> - -<p class="noindent">all of which are described and illustrated in our beautiful and entirely -<b>New Catalogue for 1896</b>. A new feature this season is the -<b>Free</b> delivery of Seeds at Catalogue prices to any Post Office. -This “<b>New Catalogue</b>” we will mail on receipt of a 2-cent stamp, or -to those who will state where they saw this advertisement, the Catalogue -will be mailed <b>Free</b>!</p> - -<p class="center">PETER HENDERSON & CO.<br /> -35 & 37 Cortlandt St., New York.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59"></a>[59]</span></p> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad09.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p class="noindent">“My Boy—</p> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">Le</span> PAGE’S LIQUID GLUE</p> - -<p class="noindent">will not mend broken bones but I don’t know anything else it won’t -mend—and mend it so that ’twill stay mended, too.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">HAIR CLOTH</p> - -<p class="center">“Survival of the Fittest.”</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="u">Send for Samples.</span></p> - -<p class="center">For Interlinings—Lasts Forever</p> - -<p class="center">AMERICAN<br /> -HAIR CLOTH COMPANY<br /> -Pawtucket, R. I.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">American People Read Standard Newspapers</p> - -<p class="center">That’s why</p> - -<p class="center">The Boston Daily Standard</p> - -<p class="noindent">Has the LARGEST CIRCULATION of any REPUBLICAN NEWSPAPER in New England, a</p> - -<p class="center">Fact</p> - -<p class="center">THAT ANY NEWSDEALER WILL PROVE.</p> - -<p class="noindent">Its CONSTANTLY INCREASING advertising patronage shows for itself how</p> - -<p class="center">It Pays</p> - -<p class="noindent">To interest STANDARD readers. If you are not one, WHY NOT?</p> - -<p class="center">Send for sample copy.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">ESSEX</p> - -<p class="center">10c.</p> - -<p class="noindent">Feeds 10 Plants 1 year. Ask your dealer for the <span class="u">10c.</span> package.</p> - -<p>If he does not keep it send us</p> - -<p class="center">16c.</p> - -<p class="noindent">in stamps, and we will send it by -return mail.</p> - -<p class="center">Flower Food<br /> -FOR<br /> -House Plants<br /> -AND<br /> -Window Gardens</p> - -<ul> -<li>Latest</li> -<li>Cheapest</li> -<li>Best</li> -</ul> - -<p>Produces Healthy growth and Generous flowering.</p> - -<p class="center">Russia Cement Co.<br /> -GLOUCESTER, MASS.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60"></a>[60]</span></p> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad10.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p class="center"><i>Waverley</i> <span class="smcap">Bicycles</span>.</p> - -<p class="center">ARE THE CHOICE OF EXPERIENCED RIDERS,</p> - -<p class="noindent">Those who have learned to know the difference between a wheel that -actually is high grade, and one that is simply claimed to be. Others -may be good, but the Waverley is the <b>Highest of all High Grades</b>. -<b>REWARD</b> of a new Waverley Scorcher is offered to each person who -recovers a stolen ’96 Waverley during 1896, payable upon presentation to -us of satisfactory proof of the facts and the sentence of the thief. This -reward is open to every one excepting the owner of the stolen wheel, but -is not payable to more than one person in any case.</p> - -<p class="center">ART CATALOGUE FREE BY MAIL. INDIANA BICYCLE CO., <span class="smcap">Indianapolis, Ind.</span></p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">The Black Cat</p> - -<p class="center">FOR</p> - -<p class="center">April, 1896,</p> - -<p class="center">Will contain the following</p> - -<p class="center">Stories <span class="u">THAT ARE</span> Stories.</p> - -<p class="center">All original, all copyrighted, all complete, all “captivating tales -cleverly told,” and</p> - -<p class="center">ALL FOR 5 CENTS.</p> - -<p class="hanging"><b>The Mystery of the Thirty Millions.</b>—By <span class="smcap">T. F. Anderson</span> and <span class="smcap">H. -D. Umbstaetter</span>. A startling recital of the unparalleled adventures -of the ocean steamer, <i>Oklahoma</i>, whose disappearance with 643 human -souls and thirty millions of gold, threw two continents into a fever of -excitement.</p> - -<p class="hanging"><b>The Man at Solitaria.</b>—By <span class="smcap">Geik Turner</span>. A realistic account of -how the Man at Solitaria, single-handed and alone, ran the Great Western -Railroad System to suit himself.</p> - -<p class="hanging"><b>The Compass of Fortune.</b>—By <span class="smcap">Eugene Shade Bisbee</span>. The weirdly -impressive tale of a man guided by sightless eyes to an independent -fortune.</p> - -<p class="hanging"><b>A Surgical Love Cure.</b>—By <span class="smcap">James Buckham</span>. An up-to-date remedy for -the love fever, and its unexpected results.</p> - -<p class="hanging"><b>The Williamson Safe Mystery.</b>—By <span class="smcap">Col. F. S. Hesseltine</span>. In this -absorbing tale is presented for the first time, the solution of one of -the most daring and inexplicable series of burglaries ever conceived.</p> - -<p class="hanging"><b>How Small the World.</b>—By <span class="smcap">E. H. Mayde</span>. A triangular love story in -which, by means of a common confidant, two young people who hate each -other in Massachusetts are brought to love each other in Colorado.</p> - -<p>The Black Cat is sold by Newsdealers. If yours hasn’t it, and won’t get -it for you, <i>get another newsdealer</i>. If you haven’t a dealer, send -us fifty cents and we will mail you for a whole year, The Black Cat, -postpaid. The Shortstory Publishing Co., Boston, Mass.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61"></a>[61]</span></p> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad11.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p class="center">THE APEX<br />OF<br />Bicycle Perfection</p> - -<p class="noindent">is represented in the Monarch. All the bicycle goodness that the -best bicycle makers know is incorporated in this king of wheels. No -chronometer could be made with more care, or with greater accuracy. -Every part of the Monarch is in perfect harmony with all other parts. -So perfect is the distribution of weight, so accurate the adjustment of -gear, that the Monarch will outspeed, outlast, outrival, any wheel on the -market to-day.</p> - -<p>Made in 4 models. <b>$80</b> and <b>$100</b>. For children and adults -who want a lower priced wheel the <b>Defiance</b> is made in 8 models, -<b>$40</b>, <b>$50</b>, <b>$60</b> and <b>$75</b>. Send for the Monarch -book.</p> - -<p class="center">MONARCH CYCLE MFG. CO., Lake, Halsted & Fulton Sts., CHICAGO.<br /> -83 Reade St., New York.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62"></a>[62]</span></p> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad12.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p class="center">A Roll of Braid</p> - -<p class="noindent">is a little thing, but there is a place in the world where they make a -good many million rolls every year. It’s a small place—its biggest boast -being two capitals and the greatest braid factory on the earth. In fact, -to say “Rhode Island,” is to think “Goff’s Braids.” No matter what part -of the land you visit, there you find <b>Goff’s Dress Braids</b>. Face -your dress skirts with <b>GOFF’S BRAID</b>, which is the best made. -Sample roll, any shade, for four 2-cent stamps.</p> - -<p class="center">D. GOFF & SONS, Pawtucket, R. I.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Ridge’s Food</span><br /> -FOR<br /> -INFANTS <span class="smcap">and</span> INVALIDS</p> - -<p class="center">THE MOST RELIABLE FOOD IN THE WORLD FOR INFANTS AND CHILDREN</p> - -<p class="center">SOLD BY DRUGGISTS</p> - -<p class="center">THE BEST DIET FOR INVALIDS AND OLD PEOPLE</p> - -<p class="center">FOUR SIZES .35 .65 1.25 1.75</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Woolrich & Co.</i> ON EVERY LABEL</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">Wheeling at night</div> - <div class="verse indent0">With the “Search Light”</div> - <div class="verse right">—<span class="smcap">Is a Pleasure</span>.</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="center">SEARCH LIGHT for ’96.</p> - -<p>The Flame Cannot Jar Out.—The new patent method of attaching the Lantern -to the wheel makes this an impossibility.</p> - -<p>Burns either Kerosene or Benzine, and the packed reservoir prevents the -spilling of oil.</p> - -<p>The Polished Reflectors are so protected that they cannot become -blackened or tarnished.</p> - -<p>A Combination of Lenses makes most intense and penetrating light.</p> - -<p>THE ONLY strictly First Class Bicycle Lantern on the market.</p> - -<p><i>WE LEAD</i>, all others follow; compare all other Bicycle Lanterns with -the “Search Light,” and you will agree that <span class="u">They Are All Behind</span>.</p> - -<p class="center">Of all Cycle Dealers or delivered free for price, $5.00.</p> - -<p class="center">Bridgeport Brass Company, BRIDGEPORT, CONN.,<br /> -or, 19 Murray Street, N. Y.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63"></a>[63]</span></p> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad13.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p class="center">The Traveler</p> - -<p class="center">Is the Only Boston Member of the Associated Press....</p> - -<p class="center">It Publishes</p> - -<p class="hanging">More News, More Pictures, More Stories, More Special -Features, More Advertisements, and has More Push, More Independence, and -More Growth than any other Boston One Cent Newspaper.</p> - -<p class="center">A Modern Newspaper At a Modern Price.</p> - -<p class="center">One Year’s Growth</p> - -<table style="text-align: left;"> - <tr> - <td>The Traveler’s Circulation Gain</td> - <td>139 Per Cent.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Traveler’s Advertising Gain</td> - <td>145 Per Cent.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td>The Traveler’s Gain in Number of Advts.</td> - <td>363 Per Cent.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p class="center">Are You Reading It?</p> - -<p class="noindent">Eight to Sixteen Pages. One Cent a Copy, Six Cents a Week, Twenty-five -Cents a Month, Three Dollars a Year.</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64"></a>[64]</span></p> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad14.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p class="center">CLIMBING METEOR.</p> - -<p class="center">GREATEST OF ALL NEW ROSES.</p> - -<p><b>CLIMBING METEOR</b>, now offered for the first time, is really a -<b>Perpetual Blooming Climbing General Jacqueminot</b>. Though a sport -from that finest of all Hybrid Teas, Meteor, it is much larger and of a -deeper, richer color, equalled only by the peerless Jacqueminot, and will -produce twenty blossoms to Jacqueminot’s one. It is a Rose which will -make 10 to 15 feet of growth in a season and show a profusion of bloom -every day. Foliage strong, healthy and luxuriant. Buds exquisite: flowers -large, beautifully shaped, and of that rich, dark, velvety crimson color -seen only in the Jacqueminot. We do not hesitate to pronounce it the -finest Rose in existence for summer blooming, as it will make a large -growth and is loaded with its glorious blossoms from May until November. -For winter blooming it has no equal in beauty or profusion. Just the Rose -to train up in a conservatory or bay-window, where its exquisite blossoms -will show to wonderful advantage every day, summer or winter. Quite -hardy, and will produce more flowers than a dozen ordinary Roses.</p> - -<p><b>PRICE</b>: Strong, well rooted, healthy plants, for abundant blooming -at once, <b>30c. each; four for $1.00; nine for $2.00.</b> By mail, -postpaid, guaranteed to arrive in good order.</p> - -<p>6 EXQUISITE NOVELTIES for 20c., postpaid, as follows: Cupid Dwarf Sweet -Pea, Scarlet Pansies, Weeping Palm, Margaret Carnation, Giant White -Scented Verbena, and Dwarf Flowering Canna.</p> - -<p>1 LITTLE GEM DWARF CALLA, grows only 8 inches high; perpetual bloomer; -most exquisite pot plant, postpaid, for 25c.; 3 for 50c.</p> - -<p>12 LOVELY NAMED GLADIOLUS for only 25c. postpaid; each bulb correctly -labeled, fine colors, white, pink, yellow, scarlet, blush, blotched, -striped.</p> - -<p>1 JAPANESE GOLDEN MAYBERRY, grows 6 to 8 feet high, hardy, branching -like a tree; bears great golden berries of luscious quality, which ripen -earlier than Strawberries. 25c.; 3 for 50c.; postpaid.</p> - -<p class="center"><i>Or everything above offered, including Rose, for 75c., postpaid. Order -Now.</i></p> - -<p><b>Our Great Catalogue</b> of Flower and Vegetable Seeds, Bulbs, Plants -and Rare New Fruits is the finest ever issued; 136 pages, profusely -illustrated with elegant cuts and colored plates. We offer the choicest -standard sorts and finest Novelties. We are headquarters for all that -is New, Rare and Beautiful. Do not miss Rudbeckia Golden Glow, Giant -Imperial Japanese Morning Glories, New Cannas, Chrysanthemums, Mayberry, -Tree Strawberry, and other great Novelties. Mailed for <b>10 Cents</b>, -or <span class="smcap"><b>FREE</b></span> if you order any of the above articles. Address -<i>JOHN LEWIS CHILDS, Floral Park, N. Y.</i></p> - -</div> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad15.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p class="center">For Flowers Indoors.</p> - -<p class="center">Bowker’s Flower Food.</p> - -<p class="noindent">A rich, concentrated fertilizer, odorless, made from chemicals; applied -in solution once or twice a month makes house plants grow vigorously and -blossom profusely.</p> - -<ul> -<li>A small spoonful for a 2 inch pot.</li> -<li>A larger spoonful for a 4 inch pot.</li> -<li>Enough for 30 plants, 3 months, 25c.</li> -<li>For a whole year, 50c.</li> -</ul> - -<p>We pay the postage and send a book on “Window Gardening” free with each -package.</p> - -<p class="center">BOWKER FERTILIZER CO.,<br /> -27 Beaver Street, New York.<br /> -43 Chatham Street, Boston.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p class="center">Stock Buyers and Bankers</p> - -<p>Take care of money—subject to check—give interest on deposits.</p> - -<p>Buy and sell for cash or margin ONLY the securities listed on New York -Stock Exchange</p> - -<p>Investors of money</p> - -<p>Givers of stock information, by mail or wire.</p> - -<p>A member of our firm always on floor of Stock Exchange.</p> - -<p class="center">Wayland Trask & Co.,<br /> -18 Wall St., New York.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Every reader of “The Black Cat” should read the very remarkable Novel,</p> - -<p class="center">A SINGULAR LIFE,</p> - -<p class="noindent">the Last and the Greatest Story by ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS, author of -“The Gates Ajar,” “Jack the Fisherman,” etc.</p> - -<p>Miss Lilian Whiting says: “No American novel since ‘Uncle Tom’s Cabin’ -has approached ‘A Singular Life.’”</p> - -<p>Price, $1.25. Sold by all Booksellers. Sent, postpaid, by</p> - -<p class="center">HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.,<br /> -4 Park St., Boston, Mass.</p> - -<p class="center">Send for a circular containing what the Press says about this wonderful story.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="ad illowp75" style="max-width: 32em;"> - -<img class="w100" src="images/ad16.jpg" alt="" /> - -<p class="center">USED EVERY WEEK DAY</p> - -<p class="center">SAPOLIO</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Brings Rest on Sunday.</span></p> - -<p class="center">Armstrong & Co. Boston, Mass.</p> - -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BLACK CAT, VOL. I, NO. 6, MARCH 1896 ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. 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