scurvy trick! Yes, these two were there, and Lord Benneville, my cousin,
the handsomest man in all England--indeed, in all the world, I thought.
He was tall and slight, with wavy hair, light brown, almost golden, in
the sunlight. His eyes were gray, a lovely shade, though those who hated
him swore 'twas green. A clever supple swordsman, and to the fore in all
the rough games that men delight in. His face was very winsome, yet
often swept by varying moods. I have seen it hard and stern, and again
alight with the keenest appreciation of one of my Lord Kenneth's
witticisms. And, too, I have seen it tender, pleading, and melancholy
almost unto tears. Ah me!

"'Lord Kenneth, older by several years; taller, darker, soured by a
great disappointment--so 'twas said--loved my Lord Benneville with all
the affection his selfish nature allowed. And Benneville returned it
frankly, in his open boyish fashion. They were ever together, and their
adventures and daring escapades more than once nearly threw them into
serious trouble. But what cared they, crack-brained as they were? Why,
on one pitch dark night, masked and mounted, my Lords Kenneth and
Benneville held up the Royal Mail, frightened the passengers almost to
death, and alarmed the whole countryside; sober folk who thought the
Devil himself was abroad! But the King only smiled indulgently, and
nothing came of it save much gossip at court. They were merry days for
all of us; balls and routs, and parties on the river, the King so
handsome and debonair, and the world so bright with sunshine and
happiness. Youth, my dear, is a great thing; what is there to compare
with it?

"'But I am losing time. I must hasten to the ball at the Duchess's. 'Tis
hardly fair, this terrible silence they have imposed upon me. A century
at a stretch--think of it!

"'I looked my best that night, at least every one said I did, and I had
my mirror to tell me so too. My gown was a wondrous figured thing from
the Indies--a soft, clinging, silken stuff that became me well. Royalty
sent an armful of great purple blossoms, strange in shape and smelling
ravishingly. My clever Prue spent hours on my hair, with the little
Lafitte for the finishing touches. My father was waiting below, and his
eyes shone with joy when he saw me; for he was proud, very proud of his
only daughter.

"'The King patted my cheek and said such pretty things, and kissed me.
Little did I know what was to follow! Child, beware of Princes and
princely favor, for therein lies destruction!

"'The night wore on, and the affair became gayer and more crowded. I had
been much with my Lord Benneville, who seemed quiet and preoccupied, yet
very tender and sweet withal. At that time there existed an
understanding between Arthur and me. Nothing announced as yet, for my
lover feared the King. His Majesty, of late, had been singularly
attentive to me. In fact, so marked had this been that the Queen's
manner toward me became more distant every day; thanks to Lady
Morley-Frere, Mary Darragh, and the other busybodies who had the royal
ear, and hated me. If I coquetted with the King 'twas but to see my
heart's real master frown, and his face grow wan and sad, for by those
very tokens I knew that he loved me.

"'As I say, something was wrong with my dear Lord that night, and after
I had danced twice with the King, and once with the old Duke, Benneville
came to claim me. He took me away from the throng into a little gilded
room with scattered tables for cards, and there we were quite to
ourselves.

"'"My darling," said he, "the King has honored me with a very special
mission. His Majesty deems that of all his loving subjects I am the best
fitted for this most important business," and my lover's voice
hoarsened, and there was hatred in his face. "I start at once for that
far city where the Grand Turk holds court. It is a long journey, and a
hard; and who can say when I will return? I have feared this all along,
sweetest one, and I have tried in vain to put off the evil day; and yet,
by Heaven, I will thwart him! You shall be Lady Benneville before
sunrise! And you will, dearest?"

"'He took me in his arms. I was trembling from head to foot; fearful,
yet joyous. Mine is an emotional nature. But his next words sent a chill
through me.

"'"Lady Morley-Frere has promised to help me. You must leave the palace
with her, and drive straight to St. Stephens-in-the-Fields. She has
arranged it all, like the dear, clever woman she is. As for me, I am in
Kenneth's hands."

"'"No! No!" I cried out suddenly, quite aghast. "Not Lord Kenneth! O
God; not that man!" I feared and hated Robert, Lord Kenneth, and knew
well that he had no liking for me. "Not Lord Kenneth," I urged.

"'"He is my friend," said Lord Benneville gravely.

"'So what more could I say?

"'"Your father has gone home, tired out," he said, by all this
frivolity, but Lady Morley-Frere will keep you to the end; and then to
Morley House with her. That at least is what she told him, and he seemed
well content."

"'I nodded passively, but wondered, knowing as I did my father's
especial detestation for Lady Morley-Frere. Why, they scarcely spoke!
But of course my Arthur knew. There was no further time for parley,
however, as several of the guests, upon gaming bent, invaded our
retreat, and we returned to the ballroom.

"'Old Lady Morley-Frere gave me a meaning look when we met at supper,
but had only the opportunity to whisper in passing, "At two o'clock; the
little door under the green lanthorn." I knew the place well, having
often taken chair there when the crowd pressed in front. Two o'clock
came, and we succeeded in leaving the palace quite unobserved, thanks to
the private door. It was bitterly cold and snowing hard, and we had
scarce left the court-yard when I fell to shivering, my teeth clicking
like castanets. Lady Morley-Frere, seeing my plight, held out a silver
flask, and from the depths of her cloak growled out, "Drink, drink!
'Twill set you right in a trice. 'Tis hot and spiced, and good for you."
I obeyed her. I had hardly swallowed it before a delicious warmth stole
over me, and every nerve tingled with pleasure. I sank back into the
cushions revived--exalted! Then I fell asleep. Oh, the shame of it! The
shame of it! A thousand curses upon a tipple that caused such woe! May
eternal perdition be the portion of the giver!

"'Strong arms enfolded me when I came to my senses. My Benneville, I was
sure of it!

"Darling," I murmured, still feeling strangely, "I have come to you.
Yes, out of the storm have I come to you! Like a weary, drenched bird, I
seek rest in thy dear arms! Kiss me, my dearest, kiss me!"

"'He kissed me again and again ... How can I go on?... There was a sound
of smothered laughter--the irritating laugh of a woman I hated.... His
face was close to mine.... I opened my eyes.... Oh, God! It was the
King!

"'In my rage and confusion I flung him from me, and fell, half-fainting,
to the floor. Then I heard my Lord Benneville say brokenly, as one
crushed by awful trouble, "Your Majesty is right. I pray you forgive my
harsh words of yesterday. Fool, fool that I am to have been so tricked!
O my Liege, my Liege, death would have been far preferable to this!" And
then my dear Lord, sobbing, went out into the gray dawn, and out of my
life forever!

"'They took me from the King's chamber, and revived by the sharp air in
the street I managed to grope my way to my father's house. To _him_ I
told nothing, for he was proud of me, and should I have killed him? Yet
he was much perplexed at my determination, for I never showed my face at
court again!'

"My relative's voice, growing weaker every moment, flickered and died
out in a hissing whisper just as the silver chime over the mantel
proclaimed that her time was up. Then I must have awakened.

"It may have been a dream, but so impressed was I by the old lady's
story that all the rest of the week I searched for further light upon
it. Into old carven chests I dived, opening package after package of
mouldy papers. In the attic trunks and boxes were rifled, until at last,
about to give up in despair, I found in an old desk a letter. It was in
French with the Benneville crest and seal, brown with age, and by no
means easy to decipher. The place of writing, and the date, quite beyond
human ken, so frayed and stained was the upper margin. Freely
translated, the letter read:

     "'My Dear Old Bobby:

     "'Here we are, safe and sound. And what can I say to you, friend of
     friends? This last scrape was the worst of all; was it not? Worse
     by far than the affairs with the little Italian, or the fat
     Princess, eh, Bobby, my boy? Our heartfelt thanks to his Majesty,
     God bless him! and to Lady Morley-Frere, and to your dear self--our
     eternal love! Oh, Bobby, the thought of marrying that sour-visaged
     cousin of mine makes me ill, even now! And yet--at the time, before
     I told you--I felt myself slowly drifting into it. The ground
     seemed to be slipping from under my feet, as it were. I felt wholly
     lost--trapped, by Jove! She was very determined. We are here with
     the Ambassador until the affair blows over. My sweetest Mary joins
     me in love.

     "'Ever your affectionate friend,

     "'BENNEVILLE.'"

"A dirty low trick of that fellow Benneville, I must say," said Colonel
Manysnifters disgustedly. "That sort of thing could never have happened
in these days. Did they ever move the Darragh woman's picture out of the
room?" he asked.

"I believe so--some years later," replied Senator Hammond dryly; "in
fact, they were _all_ moved out, and hurried into the up-country for
safe-keeping. That was about the time that we boys in blue were making
it particularly unpleasant for the residents of that part of the State.
I never knew the fate of the collection. I have not been South since
'64."

"Well, anyway, Senator," said the Colonel, "I see you have got a line on
your ancestors, and that's more than many of us can say. I've never
bothered about mine. Descendants are bad enough. My forebears came over
to America years ago as ballast--didn't have any names, just numbers,
mostly thirteen and twenty-three! That old lady you were telling us
about certainly got it in the neck, and I hope that she will even
matters up in the other world. If she hasn't, by the time I get there I
will do all I can to help her out--always assuming, of course, that I am
going to the same place.

"Now, if you gentlemen of the press will kindly step to the front and
favor us with your yarns we will all be mightily obliged to you. I have
heard nothing from any of you since 'way back in the dining-car. Some
observation about the moon, I believe."

Mr. Callahan, the dean of the corps, blushed slightly.

"It was O'Brien who got off the spiel about the moon. _I_ have outgrown
that sort of thing. In my younger days I might have--well, we won't be
hard on O'Brien. He is not a bad fellow at heart, and I believe he will
try to do better in future. Now, as it seems to be my turn at
word-painting, I am going to tell you of an affair that occurred in
Washington a few years ago. It has to do with a well-known society girl,
an irascible father, a bad Chinaman, and a high collar--seemingly
irreconcilable elements, I'll admit, but I will do my best to mix 'em
in. I had the story in sections from most of the parties concerned; a
wide acquaintance with the police and an intimate knowledge of the
Chinese quarter helping out considerably. The odds and ends, pieced
together, make, I hope, a hearable tale."

X

MR. CALLAHAN'S STORY

"My story begins, then, on a bright Sabbath afternoon in mid-autumn when
Miss Janet Cragiemuir left her home in K Street and set out leisurely
upon her walk to Bethany Church, where she revelled in her latest fad.
She had recently taken a class in the Chinese Sunday-school. The good
work began at three o'clock, and as it was nearly that hour, groups of
Chinamen stood out on the sidewalk chattering as only Celestials can.
They greeted Miss Cragiemuir with grave courtesy when she approached,
and shuffled lazily out of her way as she swept past. She was followed
into the building by her three scholars, one of whom presented her with
a small package which was accepted with some reluctance. Then a brief
whispered argument took place between the two, the Chinaman appearing to
have decidedly the best of it, for he displayed his broken, yellow teeth
in a hideous grin when his teacher turned from him to the other members
of the class.

"Miss Cragiemuir was attached to her scholars, an intelligent lot of
men, speaking English fairly well, and at times quite electrifying her
by their naïve observations on men and things. But Ah Moy, the ugly
fellow at the end of the form, was her especial pride. That gorgeously
clad individual was considered the star scholar of the school, and as a
shining example of what Christian training can do for the heathen was
often pointed out to visitors. Well, Ah Moy _was_ undeniably clever, but
not in just the way the good people of Bethany imagined. As a matter of
fact, a more corrupt Chinaman had never been smuggled into America.
Ostensibly in the laundry business, and really a master workman in that
line, the astute Chink had long since relinquished the labor over the
tubs and ironing-board to Hop Wah, his silent partner. Ah Moy's chief
interest in the establishment lay in its cavernous sub-cellar, where he
conducted gaming tables and a smoking-'parlor' with flattering success.
The gods evidently smiled upon him, for his den seemed to be unknown to
the police, though they had ferreted out all other resorts of the kind
in the city. As there is no 'graft' in Washington, and 'the Finest' are
above reproach, the idea that Ah Moy enjoyed police protection should be
dismissed with indignation.

"Ah Moy's place bore an unsavory reputation even among the saffron-hued
residents of Four-and-a-half Street, but its bland proprietor was
regarded by the authorities as a particularly inoffensive and
law-abiding specimen--his high standing at Bethany proving a very strong
card. He was also the head of a powerful secret society, or 'tong,' and
wielded a tremendous influence in the Washington settlement, so his
countrymen dared not betray him. There was another, and in its way an
equally potent reason why the Chinaman played so well the rôle of
convert. He had fallen desperately in love with Miss Cragiemuir, and to
the unconscious girl his antics were puzzling, to say the least. He
annoyed her, too, with presents--trifles which she could not well refuse
without a scene, for after much surly mumbling he would sulk in his
corner like a spoiled child unless she instantly accepted his offerings.
So jars of preserved ginger, hideous ivory images, and trinkets of every
description were showered upon her, much to her discomfiture.

"On the afternoon I speak of, Ah Moy, who had eclipsed all previous
records for brilliant recitations, became decidedly uneasy as the
benediction was being pronounced, and when he arose from his knees
tapped Miss Cragiemuir gently with his fan.

"'Can Ah Moy walk home with pletty lady?' he asked in dove-like tones.

"Now Miss Cragiemuir's fads were invariably carried through to the last
extremity, and Ah Moy's request, instead of embarrassing her, afforded a
thrill of gratification. She felt sure that he yearned for a fuller
knowledge of the great truths that had been unfolded in the afternoon's
lesson, and she also felt, with some exaltation of spirit, that her
influence over the man was being exerted for much good. So she nodded a
pleasant assent to the delighted Celestial, who blushed and trembled
with joy; and a blushing, trembling Chinaman is a sight for the gods!

"'Well, Ah Moy,' she said in her best manner, 'I hope you will think
over what you have learned to-day, ponder it in your heart, and let it
be a subject of prayer. I see a great change in you--a change for the
better. The good seed has taken root, and my puny efforts will yet bear
fruit in due season. Now next Sunday we will take up the wonderful story
of "Daniel in the Lion's Den." That will interest you, I am sure.'

"'Ah Moy takee up anysing that Missee want,' said the Chinaman
gallantly. 'Ah Moy velly, velly fond of Missee. He no come to
Slunday-school at all if teacher no come too! Slunday-school is a great
big bluff most allee time--it seem to me. Humbug, eh?'

"This was a staggerer.

"'Why, Ah Moy, how perfectly shocking! "Bluff!" "Humbug!" Where did you
learn such words? Oh, Ah Moy, you don't know how much you distress me! I
thought better of you than that; I did indeed! What do you come to the
school for? Isn't it because you want to be a better man, and to lead a
good and useful life? I certainly thought so. I am disappointed in you,
Ah Moy, more than I can say. This is dreadful!'

"'Ah Moy rich,' he continued, unnoticing; 'got plenty money, habee heap
house--one in 'Flisco, one in San Looey, one here in this city. He want
get mallied; lovee gal, 'flaid tell her. 'Flaid makee mad. Ah Moy
bashful!'

"'Really?' said Miss Cragiemuir with interest, wondering which of the
two or three women at the Mission he meant, 'In love! Oh, Ah Moy, how
romantic! Who is she? Perhaps I can help you.'

"'I don't likee say,' replied he coyly.

"'How foolish, Ah Moy. Tell me--I will promise not to mention it--not to
say a word to any one. Understand?'

"'Plomise?' asked he craftily.

"'Certainly I will promise. Don't you think I can keep a secret? Lots of
people tell me things--that's because they trust me. Who do you want to
marry? Ah, I believe I know. Isn't it Hoi Kee?'

"'No-o.'

"'Oo-Chow?'

"'No-o.'

"'Hoi Sing?'

"'No-o.'

"'Well, I declare! Who on earth is it then?'

"'Ah Moy want mallie _you_!'

"'What?'

"Miss Cragiemuir, not knowing whether to laugh or cry, giggled
hysterically. A flush of rage darkened the Chinaman's sallow features,
and his eyes glittered with anger. Had the street been deserted he would
have strangled her, then and there, after the pleasing Oriental fashion.
But the time and place were unpropitious.

"'Mellican gal makee fun of Ah Moy,' he said gruffly. 'She think he
joke, when allee time he mean velly much what he say!'

"Then the teacher lost her temper.

"'How dare you say such a thing to me? Are you crazy? You must be! Don't
you ever talk to me again like that. Do you hear? Leave me--go away! I
don't want you to walk a step further with me! Go home! I hope I will
never, never see you again!' and she turned her back on him indignantly.
Ah Moy made no response, but still stuck gamely at her side. She walked
faster; so did he, keeping right in line. For a square or so they
hurried along. Then she gave it up, slowed down, and said mildly, 'I am
glad, of course, that you are fond of me, Ah Moy. I want all the members
of my class to like me. I am trying to do a good part by you, and I hope
some day to see you back in your native land leading your people to the
light; but you have a great deal to learn yet. Besides,' she added
thoughtfully, reverting to his unlucky remark, 'haven't you a wife in
China?'

"'I have _two_ wifee in old countly,' replied Ah Moy proudly, 'but I
have none in 'Mellica--not a single wifee--no, not one! Ah Moy want
'Mellican wifee, so ba-ad, so ba-ad!' he said plaintively.

"Miss Cragiemuir was seized with a wild desire to shriek with laughter,
but she wisely suppressed it. She felt that with the frank avowal of her
scholar the end of her usefulness at Bethany was drawing near. It
sobered and saddened her.

"Ah Moy accompanied her in sullen silence to the door of the house in K
Street. Well-dressed church-goers gazed curiously at the pair, and many
facetious remarks were bandied about. Fragments of this found their way
to the ear of Major Cragiemuir as he was taking his afternoon airing in
the park, and filled him with wrath. The Major is a testy, pompous
specimen of the retired army officer, and takes himself very seriously.
His sense of dignity and propriety is never for a moment in abeyance,
and covers himself and all his belongings like a pall.

"'This thing shall be stopped,' he declared, fuming with rage. 'I have
put up with Janet's infernal nonsense long enough! I won't have her the
laughing stock of the town! She shall give up this Chinese Sunday-school
business at once! But what next, what next?' he groaned 'Really, Janet
is getting quite beyond me--something decisive will have to be done.
Each new fad is more damnable than the other! Will there never be any
let up? God knows I have been a good father, and let her have her own
way in everything--nearly everything; but this is going a little too
far! If her mother had lived things would have been so different. Ah,
me!' And muttering angrily to himself, he whacked the inoffending
shrubbery with his cane.

"The old gentleman's walk was quite spoiled.

"When Miss Cragiemuir and Ah Moy reached the house in K Street the young
woman thanked her pupil for his escort, and politely wished him a good
afternoon. As she was about to leave him he madly seized her around the
waist, exclaiming, 'Ah Moy kissee you good-bye!' and tried his best to
do so. Miss Cragiemuir screamed, and nearly fainted with fright.
Luckily, the Major turned the corner just at this moment, and speedily
took in the situation. He rushed at the Chinaman, hurling him to the
pavement, and beat him soundly with his ever-ready stick. Then he
bestowed several well-directed kicks upon the prostrate form. Ah Moy
scrambled to his feet and fled, closely pursued by the enraged Major;
but the nimble-footed Chink managed to make good his escape, darting
into a friendly alley, and disappearing.

"The terrified girl hurried into the house, and received shortly
afterward from her father a brief, but spirited lecture, which she will
long remember. He sternly declared, after touching upon all of her
hobbies,--he called them by a stronger name,--that if she continued to
give him trouble he would close up the Washington house and live in
future at The Oaks, the Cragiemuir place down in Maryland. This dire
threat proved most effectual, for Janet hated The Oaks, and she recalled
with disagreeable vividness one never-to-be-forgotten year spent there
as a child. So she went to her room and wrote to the superintendent at
Bethany that a sudden change in her plans would force her to give up her
class. The letter, a masterpiece in its way, closed with expressions of
the deepest regret, and was duly received by the excellent Mr. Bagby,
who felt that both Bethany and himself had sustained an irreparable
loss.

"But the affair of the Chinaman by no means ended here.

"Ten minutes after his unpleasant encounter with Major Cragiemuir, Ah
Moy arrived at his place of business in Four-and-a-half Street, a mass
of bruises, and with a heart full of hatred for his assailant. Perhaps,
after all, the fellow had meant no harm. In his guileless, imitative way
he had simply tried to do what he had often seen American young men do.
Had he not frequently observed big Policeman Ryan kiss the red-haired
widow who kept the lodging-house around on Missouri Avenue? Did not
Muggsy Walker--across the street--salute his sweetheart in the same
manner? Ah Moy had many times witnessed what struck him as a most absurd
ceremony on the part of the foreign devils; but he had watched them
closely, though, and flattered himself that he too could do the proper
thing when occasion called for it. He had, in fact, done so, and was
beaten for his pains! This was a h--l of a country, anyhow, thought he;
after this he would stick to the good old ways of his native land, and
have a whole skin to his credit. The teachings of a long line of
philosophical ancestors were by no means lost upon this their up-to-date
descendant. No more monkey tricks for him!

"On the night of the beating, Ah Moy did not feel equal to presiding
over the tables, so the resort was closed for the first time in many
months. Down in the dark sub-cellar he soothed his ruffled feelings with
a long, quiet smoke, and meditated upon elaborate though somewhat
impracticable schemes of revenge as he lay in his bunk.

"Several days later the Chinaman, still sore and in a bad humor, swung
himself on a car for Sam Yen's, whose laundry was some distance up town.
Yen was a quiet, easygoing fellow, and Ah Moy thought it great fun to
badger and worry him whenever there was nothing more promising in view.
On this particular morning Ah Moy found Yen shaking with a chill, and
almost too weak to drag himself across the room. Sam scarcely replied to
his tormentor's teasing, and the latter was about to leave the place in
disgust, when a well-known countenance appeared in the doorway, and
Dennis Coogan came in.

"Coogan was Major Cragiemuir's factotum, and Ah Moy, who had spent many
a weary hour opposite the house in K Street waiting to catch a glance of
Janet Cragiemuir, knew him by sight. Coogan presented a ticket and
demanded his 'wash.' Sam Yen reached feebly for the pink slip of paper,
peered up and down the rows of bundles on the shelves, and finally
announced that the garments were not ready, but would be later in the
day. Coogan then stalked out, stating that he would call again at five
o'clock, sternly warning Sam not to disappoint him. Coogan aped the
Major to the life, and Ah Moy, recognizing the caricature, hated him
heartily for it. Yet, the Chinaman, sitting behind the counter, with his
eyes nearly closed, paid but scanty attention to the customer; but when
Coogan left, a look of supreme cunning flitted over his wooden face. He
was silent for a few moments, and then, to the surprise and delight of
Yen, volunteered to remain and complete the day's work, urging the sick
man to turn in until he felt better. Sam Yen gladly accepted the offer
of his kindly disposed countryman, and Ah Moy hurriedly left for his own
laundry to get, he said, a very superior polishing iron, promising to
return in a few moments. When he found himself on Pennsylvania Avenue
near Four-and-a-half Street he entered the tea, spice, and curio
emporium of Quong Lee.

"Quong Lee was not only a shrewd merchant, but a skilful chemist as
well, and was regarded with deep reverence and esteem by his fellows.
The eminent man, had he been a trifle taller, would have readily been
taken for the great Li Hung Chang, spectacles and all; and it was owing
as much to this wonderful resemblance as to his wisdom and learning that
Chinatown groveled at his feet. He received Ah Moy effusively when the
latter, breathless and excited, burst into the stuffy little room at the
rear of the shop.

"'Welcome, thrice welcome, oh, Beautiful One,' said Quong Lee (not in
English, but in the liquid dialect of the Shansi region). 'It fills my
heart with joy to see you. Why have you thus deserted the lifelong
friend of your father?'

"Ah Moy smiled sardonically, for he had parted from Quong Lee but at
sunrise that morning, after a warm discussion over some of the nicer
points of the game, and the old man's query appealed very strongly to
his by no means undeveloped sense of humor.

"'Most excellent and revered sage,' replied Ah Moy dryly, 'pardon the
unheard-of negligence, and generously deign to overlook the
thoughtlessness of your sorrowing servant--do that; and, Quong Lee, you
must help me! Quickly! Quickly! I want a poison such as you can easily
distil. A mixture so deadly that the slightest contact with it is fatal!
Give me that, I pray you, and let me go. Hurry! Hurry! I am in haste!'

"'You ask much of me, Ah Moy, after your harsh, ill-timed words of the
morning,' remarked Quong Lee coldly.

"'Forget them, O Munificent; forget them,' said Ah Moy, deeply
contrite. 'Carried away by excitement, your abject slave considered
but lightly what he then so foolishly said, and now so fervently
regrets--and--and--let's drop this powwow, Quong Lee. I have no time for
it! I tell you, man, I am in a hurry!'

"Now, Quong Lee, while wholly in Ah Moy's power, and quite well aware of
it, exacted from all of his countrymen a certain amount of deference,
and was loath that his visitor should prove an exception to this
gratifying rule. Ah Moy knew this, but the little farce was becoming
very irksome to him; it took up too much of his always valuable time,
and he intended to forego it in future. Quong Lee, thought he, was a
tiresome old goat who badly needed his whiskers trimmed and his horns
sawed off; and he, Ah Moy, was the man for the job.

"'I am indeed fortunate,' said Quong Lee, ignoring Ah Moy's concluding
remark, 'tremendously lucky, in fact, for I think I have in my
laboratory just what you desire. Yes, I am sure of it. I will get it
without further delay.' He took down a lighted lantern from the wall,
and lifting a trap door at the end of the room, plunged into the
darkness. From the opening nasty, suffocating smells arose, and Ah Moy
was driven out to the shop, where he impatiently awaited his learned
friend. That worthy soon reappeared, and paying no attention whatever to
the odors, beckoned Ah Moy into the room. Ah Moy approached gingerly.

"'My beloved child,' said Quong Lee, exhibiting the regulation tiny
phial of romance containing a few drops of a white liquid, 'here is a
poison ten-fold more subtle and deadly than that ejected from the fangs
of the cruel serpent of the plain. The merest scratch from a weapon
dipped in it will effect instant death. The victim curls up as a tender
leaf in the midday sun. Yet it may be taken into the stomach with
impunity. Strange, is it not? The minute quantity that you see here is
all that I possess, and I shall feel honored if you will accept it.
But,' he added, clutching Ah Moy by the wrist, 'should trouble come,
remember that I--Quong Lee----'

"'Trust me for that, venerable Uncle of the Moon; your name shall not be
breathed in the matter, whatever happens. Ah Moy is not the man to bring
misfortune upon the lifelong friend of his father,' and the fiendish
chuckle which accompanied this remark filled the merchant-chemist with
alarm.

"'A million thanks, O Illustrious,' continued Ah Moy, pocketing the
phial. 'I shall never forget your generosity. In good time I shall
repay. Ah Moy will not prove ungrateful. Pardon this brief visit, O
revered wearer of the crimson blouse. We meet again to-night. Bathed in
the glow of thy approving smile, I leave thee. We meet again to-night,
to-night. For the present, farewell. And I say, old 'un, you were dead
wrong about that last game. You get a little dippy toward morning, don't
you? Most old folks do. Ta, ta.' He glided out, slamming the door behind
him.

"Quong Lee followed his guest to the street, and watched his retreating
figure until lost to sight.

"'Curse him! Curse him!' hissed the old man vindictively. 'May the gods
destroy him! And Quong Lee will aid them! Give me but the chance; oh,
give me but the chance!' And he crossed his fingers.

"The subject of this cheerful soliloquy returned without delay to Sam
Yen's, who welcomed him with a wan smile, and after explaining some
minor details of the work, crept off to his cot. Ah Moy immediately
began his self-imposed task, and worked with a will, crooning the while
a quaint Celestial air. It was ironing day at Sam Yen's, and the new
hand did not object particularly to that part of the process. By a
quarter after four he had completed the job, and surveyed with much
satisfaction the neat bundles, duly ranged on the shelves.

"Dennis Coogan arrived at dusk, and throwing down his ticket and some
small change on the counter, walked off with his parcel, mumbling
something uncomplimentary about the dirty haythin' who kept honest folks
waitin' for their clothin'. Later in the evening Sam Yen appeared, much
refreshed, and relieved his kind assistant. Ah Moy then left, cutting
short the thanks of his countryman.

"Honesty is the best policy, and it is to be regretted that this astute
maxim had not been more thoroughly kneaded into the moral make-up of Mr.
Dennis Coogan. Arriving at the house in K Street, Coogan, sneaking
through a side entrance and across the yard at the rear, took his
master's clothing up to his own little room over the stables, where he
carefully selected such articles as seemed to strike his fancy. It was
the night of the coachmen's ball, and Dennis did not propose to be
eclipsed at that event by any Jehu who ever handled the ribbons. So
there in readiness lay the hired dress-suit, the Major's gleaming linen,
and the other necessaries of evening attire. Coogan leisurely donned the
unaccustomed plumage, paying as much attention to his toilet as a
debutante when arraying herself for her first cotillion. After
struggling into a remarkably obstinate shirt he selected the highest
collar he could find, put it on, and admiringly surveyed the general
effect in a cracked mirror, turning his head this way and that as he did
so. Suddenly, with a gasping cry, he lurched forward, and fell heavily
to the floor.

"Great was the horror and distress in the Cragiemuir household the next
morning when the shockingly discolored body of the ill-fated Coogan was
found. Major Cragiemuir, who was attached to the man, was sorely grieved
by his death; and as there were no relatives to claim the body had the
poor fellow buried from the K Street house, which was closed until after
the funeral. The family physician and his confreres who examined the
corpse were puzzled for some time as to the cause of Coogan's death.
Cases of this sort, they solemnly declared, while not unknown to the
profession, were yet extremely rare; and the long scientific name which
was inscribed on the register at the health office as the disease that
carried off Dennis Coogan had certainly never been seen there before.
The slight scratch under the chin made by one of the sharp points of the
collar was quite unnoticed in the rigid inspection to which the body was
subjected.

"On the evening following the untimely death of Dennis Coogan, impelled
by a curiosity which he could not resist, Ah Moy sought out the
fashionable neighborhood where the Cragiemuirs resided, and found, as he
had scarcely dared hope, the mansion closed and the badge of mourning on
the door. He saw a dim light burning in the front parlor, and in his
excited fancy could see the still form of the hated Major reposing in
the satin-lined casket beneath the flickering gas jets. The Chinaman
laughed aloud, and then a look of supreme terror came into his face, for
he thought he saw a menacing figure leave the house, and with clenched
fists start over to him.

"Ah Moy, shrieking, turned and fled.

[Illustration: "Ah Moy, shrieking, turned and fled!"]

"He finally took refuge from his imaginary pursuer at Wo Hong's. Here he
drank repeatedly a fiery liquor which the proprietor, serenely
untroubled by the revenue laws, dispensed to his pals for a trifle. When
Ah Moy staggered into his den several hours later, Quong Lee, who had
arrived on the scene, noted with much satisfaction the ghastly
appearance of his friend.

"'If he keeps this up for any length of time,' thought the learned man,
'I shall be spared the performance of a very unpleasant act. Murder is
not in my line--now--anyway. It is trying work for an old man like
me--and the police forever at one's heels!'

"Leaving his associates in charge of the tables, Ah Moy wearily sought
the adjoining room, a filthy, ill-lighted apartment, with rows of bunks
along its sides. Opening a cupboard he drew forth a pipe and a small jar
of opium. His stained fingers trembled violently as he rolled a much
larger pill than usual and placed it in the bowl of his pipe. He had
consumed a frightful quantity of the stuff in the past few days, and his
nerves were in just the condition that required a larger amount than
ever to quiet them.

"He stretched himself at full length in the nearest bunk and proceeded
to lull the awful fantasies which threatened his reason. With a moan he
buried his face in his pillow; for at the end of the room he saw a grim
phantom whom, he felt sure, the doubly accursed Quong Lee had
maliciously admitted. The old man should pay dearly for this on the
morrow! Ah Moy felt his fingers tightening convulsively around the
throat of the dying Quong Lee; he could hear the croaking in his
victim's wind-pipe, and the gruesome death-rattle! The sounds were all
well known to the Chinaman, and recalled a chain of lurid experiences.

"'I should have done it before,' he muttered, as in his fancy he kicked
the body aside.

"He grew calmer. There was a bright gleam of hope in the thought that
with the death of Major Cragiemuir his wooing would be far less
difficult. As to the girl returning his love--bah! Women were not
consulted upon such matters--in China. He smiled, for he felt that his
triumph was assured.

"Radiant visions came to him. He was floating in space, wafted by
perfumed breezes. Around him were lovely faces dimly outlined in circles
of roseate clouds. Each face was Janet Cragiemuir's, and all smiled most
bewitchingly at him. Showers of white and yellow blossoms fell at
intervals, and the orchestra from the Imperial theatre at Pekin boomed
lazily in the distance.

"Happy, happy Ah Moy!

"But the Chinaman, though a hardened smoker, had badly miscalculated
matters, for when Quong Lee came in at daybreak to awaken him the
'Beautiful One' had been dead many hours!"

"Now, Mr. Denmead," said Colonel Manysnifters, turning to another
representative of the press, "it's your turn. Let us have it good and
strong. I have read your East Side Sketches, and like 'em immensely.
Can't you give us a touch of New York in yours?"

"I'll try," said Denmead modestly, "though it isn't exactly a story. It
was just a passing incident, but it was something that I will not soon
forget. An affair of that kind is apt to make more or less of an
impression on a fellow. Maybe you will agree with me."

XI

WHAT HAPPENED TO DENMEAD

"Several years ago I found myself in New York; penniless, weary, and
heartsick. I wandered one morning into a tiny park, mouldering in the
shadow of the huge skyscrapers with which Manhattan is everywhere
defaced. I sank upon a bench, pulled a soiled newspaper from my pocket,
and scanned for the fiftieth time the 'Help Wanted' columns. Work I
wanted of any kind, and work of any kind had eluded my tireless search
for days--ever since my arrival in New York. The benches about me were
filled with bleary, unshaven men; some asleep, others trying hard to
keep awake; each clutching a paper which presently it seemed they might
devour, goat-like, in sheer hunger. The stamp of cruel want convulsed
each hopeless face, and crowsfeet lines of despair lay as a delta
beneath each fishy eye. About us in all directions towered huge
monuments of apoplectic wealth--teeming hives, draining the honey from
each bee, tearing from thousands their best years, their finest
endeavors, their very hearts' blood--all to swell the wealth of a
bloated few! And we, the drones, sat mildewing in the little open space
below!

"The man next to me, his head hanging over the back of the bench in
ghastly jointlessness, awoke with a snort, stared about him stupidly,
and something like a sob bubbled up from his Adam-appled throat. He
wiped his eyes with the back of a grimy paw, and diving into a greasy
pocket pulled out a short black pipe. Between consoling puffs he jerked
out, 'A man's a damn fool--a damn fool, I say, to come to New York to
look for a job! That's why _you_ are here. Oh, I know. I can tell.
You're a stranger all right; that's easy to see. You look the part.'

"'That's so,' said I, 'and worse. I am about down and out. Financially,
I stand exactly twenty-one--no--twenty-three cents to the good.'

"'I am right with you, friend--only more so. I have nothing, absolutely
nothing! You've twenty-three cents, hey? A bad number, that
twenty-three. Give me the odd penny, and perhaps luck'll change for both
of us.' I put the copper into his hand, and in chucking it into his
pocket he dropped it. It rolled out to the center of the walk, and in an
instant not less than a dozen men made a determined rush for it. There
was a desperate struggle; others joined; it became a mad, screaming,
tumbling, sweating mob. Instantly a crowd from outside gathered, and a
free-for-all fight began. Hundreds flocked in from the adjacent streets.
The affair quickly assumed the proportions of a riot. Knives and
revolvers were brought into play. It was every man against his neighbor,
and an unreasoning wave of frenzy and blood seemed to sweep over the
crowd. The police rushed in from all quarters, but their efforts seemed
powerless. My new acquaintance and myself, the innocent cause of all the
trouble, managed to escape from the thick of the fray--he with the loss
of a hat and a bleeding face; and I in much worse shape--physically
sound, but--I had lost my twenty-two cents! We hurriedly entered a dark
canyon which led to wider paths where quiet reigned. The tumult in the
park, sharply accentuated by pistol shots, came to us like the roar of
falling water.

"'What an astonishing thing!' said my companion. 'And all for a penny--a
bloomin' penny! And to think of the fabulous wealth stored in the midst
of all these tigers! Do you suppose that mere walls of steel and granite
could withstand the fury of such a mob as this great city now holds,
straining at its leash? Horrible things will happen in New York one of
these days, and we will not have long to wait for it either. Discipline
of the crudest sort, and a leader, is all that is needed to start a
great army of destruction in motion!'

"'But how about the police, the Federal and State troops, supposed to be
in instant readiness?' I urged.

"'They would count as nothing before the fury of an organized mob. A
portion of the monstrous mountain of wealth stored here in New York City
should be moved to a central, safer point; say St. Louis, Omaha, or even
further west to Denver. It's piling up here is an ever-present menace
and danger. It is a serious problem.'

"'Quite so,' agreed I; 'but there is a much more serious problem
confronting you and me just at present, and that is a certain sickening
emptiness which makes one weak and giddy. My few coppers stood between
us and--and--well, serious thoughts of the future. I have never begged
nor stolen, and yet----'

"'Oh, don't bother about that. The thing's easy,' said my friend; 'just
watch me.'

"A fat, prosperous-looking man approached. His sleek face, garlanded
with mutton-chop whiskers, was creased in smiles. Evidently a broker who
had just 'done' some one, was my sour thought. There were but few on the
street, and the outlook for business was favorable.

"'Pardon me, friend,' whined my companion, stepping out in front of him,
'but can't you give a fellow a lift? I'm a mechanic by trade, and----'

"'Oh, cut it out!' said the fat man, leering knowingly. 'I'm on to what
you're going to say. Why don't you fellows vary your song and
dance--just for luck? G'wan. Get out of the way!' And he tried to
side-step us. With a quick glance over his shoulder, my new acquaintance
shoved a revolver right up in the teeth of the prosperous one. Skyward
the podgy, bejeweled hands, and we deftly went through him, securing his
wallet, watch, scarf-pin, and then stripped his fingers of their
adornment. It was over in a flash, and the fat man on his back by a
dexterous push and go-down which the Japs might add with advantage to
their much-vaunted jiu-jitsu.

[Illustration: "--Shoved a revolver right up in the teeth of the
prosperous one!"]

"'Beat it!' urged my companion, and 'beat it' we did; dropping casually
but hurriedly into a corner saloon, then through a side entrance out
into another street. I looked at my friend admiringly.

"'I suppose there's hell to pay around the corner just now,' said he
coolly; 'but we are as safe here as if we were in Jersey City--and
safer. Still, it won't do to linger. Come this way,' and he led me into
a lunch-room of the baser sort.

"'Sit here, at this table, and I will eat at the counter. We had best
not be seen together, though they would never look for us here.' I gazed
at him in amazement. My bearded friend had become smooth-shaven! His
neck, but a moment before collarless, was now surrounded by a high
white-washed wall; he flashed a crimson tie, and somehow his clothes
looked newer and sprucer. Of all the lightning-change acts I have ever
seen, this was certainly the extreme tip of the limit!

"'What do you think of it?' he asked, grinning, jamming his whiskers
still further into his pocket.

"'Wonderful!' said I.

"'Now,' said he confidently, '_I_ am absolutely safe, and I don't think
the stout party saw _you_. Don't worry. I caught only my reflection in
the little swinish eyes. I saw nothing in the background. What'll you
have to eat? There seems to be enough in the pocket-book--which I ought
to empty and chuck--to buy up several lunch-rooms, with the Waldorf
thrown in for good measure.'

"'How much?' I asked.

"'Not now,' he whispered, 'not now. Wait until we get out. The
proprietor is looking at us. Here's coffee, and pie, and sandwiches--ice
cream--oh, anything you like!'

"We munched in silence and he pushed up a twenty-dollar bill in payment,
much to the surprise of the man behind the counter. The change pocketed,
we strolled out leisurely, picking our teeth with easy nonchalance.

"'I hated to give that fellow the double cross, but really, old cock,
that is the smallest denomination in the bundle. Wander down to the
Battery with me and we will investigate further.'

"'You're an Englishman,' I essayed knowingly. 'I am on to the lingo.'

"'Not on your life!' said he. Born in Newark, New Jersey, deah boy, I
assure you--right back of the gas-house; what? These togs o' mine were
handed out to me by an old pal--a cockney valet--and the accent goes
with 'em, don't ye know?'

"'I'm on,' said I, sadder but wiser, and then relapsed into reverie.

"The Battery was thronged as usual, but we found a bench away from
prying eyes.

"'Gee whiz! Jumping Jerusalem! Julius Caesar! Joe Cannon!' murmured my
friend as he emptied the stuffing of the wallet into his hat. 'Am I
dreaming again? I've often dreamt that I have found a bunch of
money--picking it out of the gutter, usually--dimes, quarters,
halves--bushels of 'em! But this is different--oh, so different! Can it
be real? Am I on the boards again? Can it be only stage mon----? Look
here; isn't this a windfall? Isn't this a monumental rake-off for a
non-profesh? Heaven knows I'm but an amateur in this line--normally an
honest man, with but slightly way-ward tendencies. Whooping
O'Shaughnessy! Just look! Six one-thousand-dollar bills, fifty
one-hundreds--that's eleven thousand! A sheaf of fifties and twenties,
swelling the total to something like twelve thousand! Hoo-ray! Again I
ask, am I dreaming? Pinch me, I'll stop snoring, 'deed I will. I'll turn
over, dearie, and go to sleep again! Twelve thousand plunks! Wouldn't
that everlastingly unsettle you? Well, well, well! Not so bad for a
moment's effort before breakfast, eh? Ain't it simply grand, Mag? I
wonder who and what our friend is, anyway. He wasn't dressed just for
the part of bank messenger, though he had the inside lining, all right!
A pursy old broker, I guess. Might have been a book-maker--you never can
tell. Anyhow, I am sort o' sorry for the chap. It would break _me_ all
up if I lost a wad of that size! Who is he? Hell, what a fool I am! Here
is the name on the flap of the wallet.

     ABNER MCNAMEE,
     24 Broadway, New York.

"'Abner McNamee! Abner McNamee!! Abner Mac----! Ain't this the limit!
Abner McNamee! We can't take this money! Just my damned, hydra-headed
luck! You hear me? It has always been that way with me--all my life! We
can't take this money, pardner! It's got to be returned! This money's
all got to go back--every cent of it! Ain't it a shame? Abner McNamee! I
oughter have known him at the time, but I only saw him once, and that
was years ago. He has taken on a lot of flesh since then. Abner McNamee!
Who'd 'a' thought it?'

"'Who the devil is Abner McNamee?' I asked, scenting treachery. This was
a share and share alike affair, and no crooked work, and--I needed the
money! 'What's the game--this McNamee business? Do you think I am a
fool?'

"'Look here, pal,' said my companion quietly, 'say bye-bye to your
dirigible and drop to the ground. You're all up in the air. Of course we
are together in this thing. I've no thought of doing you. I know you can
make trouble if you want to. You could turn me over to the first cop
that heaves in sight, and there's one over there now--why don't you do
it? Of course _I_ would have something to say in that event, and then
there would be _two_ of us in trouble; and with Abner confronting the
pair, the odds would be all in my favor. He'd never recognize _me_! No,
sir! But what's the use of hot-airing like this? Be good, now, and
listen to me. We can't, can't, can't keep this money! Do you hear? Now
let it filter through your make-up--slowly at first, and then as fast as
you like. Honest, pal, we've got to give it back!'

"'Why?' I asked, still skeptical.

"'Oh, what's the use of your going on like that? You worry me with your
fool questions! Here, take it all and accept the responsibility, and I
will leave you! Here--take it! Take it, you idiot!'

"Somehow, I hesitated--held back by Heaven knows what.

"'No,' said he, returning the wallet to his pocket, 'I thought not! You
know a thing or two after all. You haven't lost your mind. Looks are
deceptive sometimes.' I instantly regretted my indecision.

"'What's the matter with the money?' I asked. 'I was just kidding you.
Give it to me. Hand it over. I will take it.'

"'Never-r-r! Never-r-r!' he whispered mysteriously. 'This money belongs
to THE CAUSE!'

"'Oh, come off!' said I with a foxy wink. Don't you think because I am a
countryman I gambol exclusively on the green. I am not altogether to the
emerald by a pailful! I've got you where I want you, and you know it!
Quit your fooling and hand over the wallet! There's a cop over there
now,' I added meaningly.

"'Yes, over there--I see him,' said my companion slowly. 'A cop--a very
necessary evil, highly ornamental cops are, and occasionally useful. Now
kindly look over _this_ way, deah boy, and you'll see two more of 'em.'

"I looked, and then----WOW! (The Milky Way.)

"They took me to Bellevue, and three days later I found myself echoing,
'Six one-thousand-dollar bills, fifty one-hundreds--that's eleven
thousand. A sheaf of fifties and twenties, swelling the total to
something like twelve thousand! Hooray! Am I dreaming? Pinch me, I'll
stop snoring, 'deed I will. I'll turn over, dearie, and go to sleep
again! Twelve thousand plunks. Well, well, well! Not so bad for a
moment's effort before breakfast, eh?'

"And my nurse smiled wearily."

       *        *       *       *       *

"That New York is a fearful and wonderful place," said Colonel
Manysnifters gravely. "I will never forget the first time I went there
as a young man. Why, I didn't get any sleep at all! The first night I
was there I turned in about two-thirty, took off my clothes, and got in
bed; but it seemed sort of foolish and wasteful. Sleep in New York?
Well, hardly. I argued that I could do that at home--and me paying three
dollars a day! So I got right up, dressed, and started out to see the
sights. It was about three o'clock then, and there wasn't any one around
but the night clerk and myself. I asked him if he couldn't lock up the
house and go out with me for a little while. He smiled, and said that he
would like to do it, but he was afraid the boss might kick; so we had a
drink together, and I went by myself. I was a green boy then and didn't
know any better, but I am on to the little old town now, all right! They
all know me up there. As soon as I get off the ferry, perfect strangers
come up, call me by name, shake hands, and slip me a card. I don't mean
to brag, but I know the location of every poolroom in the city! I have a
friend in New York who writes the dramatic criticisms for the
moving-picture shows; he puts me in touch with the theatrical and
newspaper element, and I have seen some high old times up there, I tell
you! One night--but, hold on--I've had my inning, Mr. O'Brien is at the
bat, I think."

[Illustration: "--Writes the dramatic criticisms for the moving picture
shows."]

Mr. O'Brien blushingly admitted the charge.

"This is the first time I ever spoke in public," said the young man
modestly, "and I crave your indulgence. If you don't mind, I will tell
you about Judge Waddington and myself at Atlantic City last summer.
Every one in Washington knows the Judge, and hopes that some day
Congress will take up his claim and adjust it satisfactorily. The old
gentleman is about all in, but we are doing what we can for him."

XII

O'BRIEN'S NARRATIVE

"I met him on the Boardwalk, and asked him where he was stopping.

"'Oh, a nice, home-like place--right over there,' indicating its
position by a careless wave of the hand; 'nice place, quiet, no music at
meals, or that sort of thing. Good cooking, no dogs or children. I came
down here to rest. None of the glare and glitter of the Boardwalk hotels
for me; no, sir!'

"'What's the name of your place?' I asked.

"'Hasn't any name--just a private cottage; old Southern family, one or
two paying guests, you know. They have been coming here for years; never
took boarders before, but the head of the house was caught in the
Knicknack Trust affair last fall. Funny how many were hurt by that
bust-up. Nearly all the boys down in Washington say they were stung. As
I remarked, old man Montgomery is rather hard up just now; but proud,
dev'lish proud, sir. I consider it a privilege to be taken in. They have
rented the cottage next door for their guests. Every convenience.'

"All very fine, but the Judge avoided my direct gaze. Seaward he turned
a shifty eye, and I knew that he was lying. He looked depressed and down
at the heel, and bore the signs of recent illness. I led him,
unresisting to the nearest café, and properly stimulated, he told me
that the Washington summer had proven too much for him, that the boys
had kindly advanced the wherewithal for a two weeks' stay at the shore,
and that he had been very sick, but already felt like a new man.

"I ordered another.

"'While I am very snugly fixed down here, Patsy,' said he
confidentially, 'I must confess I was a little disappointed in the
location of the cottage. From the picture on the letter-head the waves
seemed to be curling under the Boardwalk onto the lower steps of the
front porch. Every room with a sea view, and no mosquitos, the circular
said. But the printer evidently got hold of the wrong form. We are a
durn sight nearer Atlantic Avenue than the Atlantic Ocean!'

"'Regularly buncoed, eh?' I ventured.

"'As a matter of proximity to the sea, yes. But I am sure the
Montgomerys are not a party to the deceit. They took the printed matter
along with the new cottage, I reckon. How long will you be down, Patsy?'

"'Just the week-end, sir. My, but look over there!' Our eyes were glued
on the entrance. Framed in the doorway, with the glare of the white
street as a background, stood one of the finest examples of the early
Gothic I have ever seen. She gazed haughtily about the room, and at the
waiters who rushed to her side. She selected the table next to ours, and
dropped into a seat, her attenuated form sharply at right angles, like a
half-closed jack-knife. With long bony fingers glistening with rings she
raised her veil, and opening a chatelaine bag, pulled out a
handkerchief, smelling salts, and a gold-meshed purse. Then, with a
murmured order to the waiter, she settled herself comfortably, and with
an imperial uplift of the pointed chin the foxy face swung slowly around
to us and settled with a grimace of recognition upon the Judge. My old
friend reddened, and moved about uneasily.

[Illustration: "Framed in the doorway ... stood one of the finest
examples of the early Gothic I have ever seen."]

"'Pardon me a moment,' said he, rising and starting over to her.

"'Why, Judge Waddington, what a delightful thurprise,' shrilled the lady
of peroxide in a voice that carried all over the room and back as far as
the bar.

"'When did you come down? Thith ith thertainly fine.' The judge mumbled
something which I did not catch--it sounded like 'Oh, hell!'

"'Here, Patrick,' he said, without enthusiasm, 'I want you to meet a
friend of mine.'

"An introduction to Miss Clarice de Dear, who had appeared in the
original Black Crook company with Lydia Thompson, was no every-day
occurrence in my hum-drum existence, and I was perhaps visibly affected.
She overlooked it, and greeted me with girlish enthusiasm.

"'Tho glad,' she lisped, 'to meet any friend of the dear Judge's, and
ethpethially you. I have heard tho much about you.' I wondered what in
the devil she had heard. 'I've known Judge Waddington ever since I was a
little tot.'

"'And not so long, either,' said the Judge gallantly--and grimly. The
fair one shot a curious glance at him, and smiled a smile, sour in its
exceeding sweetness.

"'I have often heard the Judge mention your name. 'Twath only the other
night he thaid----What will I have? nothing, thanks, I have just
ordered.' But she joined us later, and still later, when the
conversation became general; that is, we all tried to talk at once.

"From the Judge's attitude I gathered that he was commencing to
celebrate the birthday of some famous man or the anniversary of a great
battle. He never drank otherwise. To-day, he informed me, he was tanking
up in honor of Bolivar, the great South American Liberator.

"'Ah, Bolivar! Great man, Bolivar! Waiter!'

"'Yes, sir!'

"'The same!'

"From Miss de Dear, 'midst smiles and tears, I gleaned that she had once
adorned the stage, pursued always by the jealousy of her less-talented
sisters. Heaven knows she couldn't help the gifts of Nature which had
come to her through no effort of her own--her birthright. The de Dears
were all that way, as far back as Sir Something-or-the-other de Dear who
came over with the Conqueror--and her mother's first cousin went to the
Philadelphia Assembly--how could she help it? _Noblesse Oblige!_ All the
girls were jealous--the cats! Anyhow, she had quit the scene of her
early triumphs, lured by the attractive offer of a vaudeville manager.
In this new field she appeared for a short time; but when on the roof
they put her on the programme sandwiched between a troup of performing
dogs and a bunch of bum acrobats--she kicked! Any self-respecting
artiste would have done the same! I agreed with her. She, too, like the
Montgomerys, and other noble families, had been caught in the Knicknack
disaster, and her savings swept away; and rather than be dependent upon
the bounty of an immensely wealthy English aunt, she had consented to
represent a great New York publishing house.

"'The World's Famous Fat Men,' twenty volumes; cloth, levant, or
half-calf; ten dollars down, and a dollar a month far into the hazy
future. Of course this was hardly the place to talk business, she said,
but I had her card and knew where to find her. Every one should have the
work. All the best people in New York, Philadelphia, Sioux City, and
other places were putting it into their libraries, and so on, and so on.

"This flotsam and jetsam of her talk came to me from time to time as
confidential asides from the main flow of palaver which rolled along
steadily toward the Judge. The Judge, poor fellow, showed plainly the
effects of the struggle; so much so, that I suggested a stroll up the
Boardwalk.

"We arose with an effort, and went out to meet the bracing air.

"'Ah, the thea, the thea; the dear, dear thea! Always tho--er--wet and
rethleth. I inherit a love for the water from my father's great uncle
who was an Admiral in the British Navy.' As this was the first
intimation Miss de Dear had given as to a fondness for water, except on
the side, I felt that living and learning were synonymous terms. So,
perhaps, did the Judge, who said, apropos of nothing in particular,
'When I was in California in fifty-nine, I saw a snake over forty-seven
feet long. The onery rascal wouldn't coil up, and they had to carry him
from place to place on flat cars. Now what do you think of _that_?' Miss
de Dear gazed dreamily out at the tossing waves, and said nothing, while
I caught hold of the Judge's elbow to steady him. Plainly the
celebration was on.

"'My dear, dear Patsy,' he said affectionately.

"'Oh, I tell you what let'h do,' said the maiden impulsively; 'let'h go
and have our fortunes told. I am dying to have mine told. Last night I
dreamt for the third time that Aunt Genevieve had died and left me all
her money. Maybe there is something in it. The palm of my left hand has
been itching all day.'

"So to the fortune-teller's we went.

[Illustration: Professor Habib.]

"Professor Habib was a Parsee, with features Irish in their intensity.
As I gazed at him I thought of the far-reaching kinship of man. Here was
a Fire-worshipper out of Persia, who for all the world looked like my
brother Mick; and God knows Mick's no Parsee! Habib wore his native
costume with a little red fez on top.

"'Be seated,' he said courteously; again reminding me of Mick.

"'Which one first?' he asked, pointing to a little inner room curtained
from view. The Judge suggested genially that we all go in together, but
the professor explained that one at a time was his invariable rule.

"'Oh, all right, all right,' said the judge, somewhat miffed; 'far be it
from me to--to----'

"'Ladies first,' said I.

"''Tis well,' said the professor, with a salaam; and the pair
disappeared behind the draperies.

"'I wonder how long they are going to stay,' said the Judge, after we
had waited some fifteen minutes. The conversation behind the arras, at
first low and murmuring, was becoming animated. I distinctly heard the
Parsee say, 'Who are the blaggards ye've brought here wid ye?' followed
by an unintelligible reply.

"'What did he say?' queried the Judge, looking up sharply.

"'I don't understand Parsee, sir,' said I.

"'That was no foreign tongue; that was American--with a brogue. I don't
like that. Let's hurry them up. I say, what time is it?'

"We reached for our watches. They were gone! Instinctively I felt for my
wallet. Gone! My scarf-pin. Gone!

"We made a wild rush for the little inner room.

"Miss de Dear? Gone! And the Parsee? Gone!

"Later, when we had made our report to the police, and I was guiding the
Judge home, I asked:

"Who is this de Dear? Where did you know her?"

"'Never laid eyes on her before!' growled the Judge."

"Another 'Jewel'!" said Colonel Manysnifters. "You find them
everywhere."

XIII

AN UNINVITED GUEST

In the lull following Mr. O'Brien's story the conductor and porter went
hurriedly through the car out to the rear platform; where, it seems,
they had been summoned by the brakeman. They quickly reappeared with as
bedraggled and woebegone a specimen of humanity as it has ever been my
misfortune to see. An unwashed, evil-smelling, half-frozen Hobo was
dragged into the car, to our utter amazement!

"Hold on a minute, conductor," said Colonel Manysnifters, as they were
rushing the captive through. "What have you here? Where did you get him?
Who are you, sir?" asked he of the tramp. "Who are you, I say, and what
are you doing on this strictly private outfit?"

[Illustration: An uninvited guest.]

The tramp, quite unabashed, blew upon his fingers to warm them, picked
up a cigar stump from the floor, lighted it, and looking around the
group said courteously, though with a bored expression:

"Gentlemen, I got on your train about the time you did, though hardly in
the same way. A ride on the trucks and brakebeams, while exhilarating in
the extreme at the outset, soon becomes wearying and nerve-racking, so
at the last water tank I made bold to take up my quarters on the rear
platform, with an occasional climb to the roof for observation and
change. But, my, it is cold out there! If it hadn't been for my friend
here," exhibiting a flask, "I would have frozen to death. Alas, poor
fellow, he is empty now!" and he held it up to the light.

"It grew very dark and bitter as the night wore on; then the blizzard
caught us; but even in spite of that, I fell into a doze, to be rudely
awakened by this fellow--but what can you expect from a person of that
kind?" Here the brakeman gave a scornful grunt, and the conductor smiled
broadly.

"After all," the tramp continued affably, between cigar puffs, "their
lot is a hard one, and it is not for me to cast the first stone. So here
I am, gentlemen, right with you, and my fate is quite in your hands."
This with a magnificent wave of a grimy paw, and something approaching a
curtsy.

"You should get down on your knees, fellow, and thank this brakeman. He
undoubtedly saved your life. It would have been your last sleep if he
had not come along! Where is your gratitude?" asked Senator Pennypacker
severely.

"You may be right, sir," said the tramp politely. "I don't dispute your
word. I _ought_ to be friendly with that fellow, as I see he is a
brother of mine. He belongs to my order. I can tell by his
watch-charm--that square bit of enamel with the rising sun in the
middle, and the letters 'I. O. U.' in red, white, and blue, around it.
Yes, he is O. K. I have been a member of many fraternities, and in
better days I was the keeper of the 'Hoot Mon' in our local Caledonian
club. Brother, accept my thanks. Perhaps some of these days I may be
able to repay you with something more substantial." The brakeman
laughed, and by this time we were all in a melting mood. Senator Bull
reached instinctively into his trousers pocket, and Mr. Ridley did the
same.

"Just a moment, gentlemen, just a moment," said Colonel Manysnifters.
"Now, sir," said he to the tramp, "we have been telling stories here
to-night--some of them fair, some pretty bad. Let us hear what you can
do in that line. We will give you a chance. If you don't make good we
will put you off at the next station and turn you over to the
authorities. Captain," to the conductor, "and you, President Madison,
take our friend into the next car, give him something to eat and drink,
wash him up a bit--several bits--and let him come back here and do his
best."

"Sir, I thank you," said the tramp with dignity. "Your idea is a great
and noble one. My stomach is so empty that it hangs about me in folds.
You have all doubtless seen a balloon awaiting the kindly offices of the
gas-man--that's me. But it will soon be remedied. Adieu for the
present." He left us, with the conductor in the lead and the grinning
darky at his heels.

"The nerve of those hoboes is something astonishing," said Colonel
Manysnifters, walking up and down, and filling the car with smoke in
order to cover up all traces of our visitor. I'll bet a thousand dollars
that that fellow had as good a chance at the start as any of us,--just
threw himself away,--whiskey, I suppose, or women, or the platers--the
combination more likely. Did you ever see such eyes?--like two burnt
holes in a blanket!"

"Yet he has the manners of a gentleman, and seems to have had some
education," said Van Rensselaer. "Did you notice his small hands and
rather classic profile? Bathed, shaven, manicured, and properly clothed,
he would be much like the rest of us--externally so, at least."

"May have been born a gentleman," observed the Colonel, "but he seems to
have outgrown it. A college man, too, no doubt; but what does that
signify? I have a friend who spent about six thousand simoleons on his
son's education, and at the end of three years all the boy had learned
was to wear baggy pants, sport a cane, and yell 'Raw! Raw! Raw!'--very
appropriately--upon the slightest provocation. The kind of chap you will
find dashing through the streets in a forty horse-power automobile with
a hundred fool-power chauffeur in charge. As to the modern young woman,
all the education _she_ wants is to be able to write love-letters!

"But our visitor is certainly an individual of strong personality!"
grunted Colonel Manysnifters, continuing to blow smoke into all parts of
the car. "Whew! Open the window back of you, Ridley. It is hard to
realize that he has left us! He was certainly not 'born to blush unseen,
nor waste his sweetness on the desert air,' eh?"

"The tramp problem is becoming a serious one," said Senator Pennypacker
ponderously. "The great army of the unemployed is steadily increasing.
In New York City alone, on October the first of last year, there were no
less than--just a second. I have the data in my bag. I will read you
some figures that will astonish you."

The Senator arose to get his bag. Faint groans were heard as he left us.
Senators Bull, Wendell, Baker, several Representatives, and the
gentlemen of the press arose as one man and rushed to the button.
President Madison appeared and took the orders. Then Pennypacker
returned with a look of determination on his face, and for fifteen
minutes or more we were regaled with facts, figures, and statistics, all
tending to prove that crime and wretchedness were on the increase
throughout the country; that we were a degenerate people; and other
equally cheerful information.

The hobo's return was hailed with joy. He was vastly improved in
appearance, and fairly radiated contentment. He sank into the seat that
Colonel Manysnifters had thoughtfully placed for him,--somewhat apart
from the rest,--with a murmur of satisfaction not unlike the loud
purring of a cat. Senator Bull pushed the cigars in his direction, and
Van Rensselaer was equally assiduous with the whiskey and soda. Our
visitor seemed perfectly at home. He drank,--drank deeply,--and wiping
his mouth on his sleeve, drank again.

"The hair of the goat is certainly good for the butt," said he, smiling,
and displaying a set of marvellously white and regular teeth. "Now,
gentlemen, I am quite ready to fulfil my part of the agreement. If my
little story interests you, you are welcome to it. It was this way.

"I was a doctor by profession, carpenter by trade, stevedore by
occupation; then came harder times--booze--more booze--despair, illness,
and I found myself discharged from the hospital, down and out--a hobo!
Yet tramp life is not so bad after all. I like it. I like the open-air
existence, the freedom from care and responsibility, and--the hours. I
am much alone, and genius, you know, grows corpulent in solitude.

"My name is Tippett--Livingstone Tippett. Age, of no special moment. You
know," he said pleasantly, "there are two things all of us lie
about--our ages and our incomes. As this is a true story I will drop the
_age_ question. It is better so.

"My early life was uneventful. I was brought up by a pious mother in a
quiet, deeply religious home; every influence uplifting and
good-instilling. I was taught, among other things, to regard liquor in
any form with abhorrence, and that drunkenness was the sin of sins. I
was surrounded with every safeguard a loving mother could devise, and it
was not until after her death and my wife's that I took to drink. My
father and grandfather both died drunkards. Heredity, in my case,
overcame both training and environment, and my troubles hurried on the
inevitable.

"I passed through college unscathed, studied medicine, walked the
hospitals, and began the practice of my profession under the most
favorable auspices. I fell in love with a charming girl, and blessed
with my good mother's approval we were married. Our future seemed
singularly bright and untroubled. Life is a game and I was considerably
ahead of the game. I was certainly playing on velvet.

"When my Elizabeth and I announced that instead of going abroad we would
spend our honeymoon at 'Raven Hill' our little world thought it quite
absurd. They were charitably inclined, however, and made excuses for us
upon the ground that we were too much absorbed in each other to know
what we were doing. But we did know, nevertheless. Our plans had been
fully matured long before we saw fit to reveal them. To spend a month or
so at Neville Mason's, down in Virginia, appealed very pleasantly to
both of us, and I accepted my old chum's offer with avidity. We were to
have everything to ourselves, with just as many servants as we wanted.

"We were married. There was a wedding breakfast, flowers, weeping
relatives, old shoes, and a profusion of rice; nothing, in short, was
omitted. A few hours later we left Jersey City on the southbound flyer.
Breaking the journey at Washington, and remaining over night there, we
arrived at the tiny depot near our ultimate destination late on the
evening of the following day. An ancient but still serviceable family
carriage was in waiting, and we were conveyed in state to the mansion.

"The house at Raven Hill is a huge affair of the Revolutionary period,
with numerous modern additions, which fail entirely to harmonize with
the quaint architecture of the original. The stables and servants'
quarters give the place the appearance of quite a settlement--a survival
of slavery days one sees here and there in the South.

"We were shown to a suite of sunny rooms in the east wing which had been
especially prepared for us, and soon made ourselves thoroughly at home.
From this agreeable vantage-ground we set out upon many pleasant
expeditions into the countryside, returned the visits of our neighbors,
and attended the chapel at the Crossways in truly rural style. Nothing
amused us as much, though, as the negro servants. To them Elizabeth was
'Honey,' and I, 'Marse Livingstone'; and over at the quarters the little
darkies gave rare exhibitions of dancing for our benefit, while solemn,
gray-haired Uncle Ashby picked a greasy banjo. The men sang in nasal,
but not unmelodious tones, weird, crooning songs, with occasionally an
up-to-date composition which found its way, no doubt, from nearby
Richmond. I shall never forget those happy evenings at Raven Hill; and
in my dreams I often see and hear the negroes as they danced and sang in
the moonlight.

"There were some good horses in the stables, and we did not spare them.
Our cross-country dashes were most exciting, and the total absence of
fences in the region gave us an apparently limitless expanse over which
to wander. And that reminds me of a never-to-be-forgotten fox hunt which
was attended by riders from all over that section of the country. Half a
dozen foxes were corralled at the 'round-up,' and I could not help
thinking how tame our alleged 'chases' at home appeared by the contrast.

"One day while roaming about the lower portion of the Raven Hill estate
we stumbled quite by accident into Dark Forest, vaguely hinted at by the
negroes as a place to be avoided. This Dark Forest is a large tract of
scrub oak, birch and holly, with dense undergrowths of briar; the haunt
of innumerable small birds that dart in and out, chirping faintly. In
its depressed portions the 'forest' has degenerated into a marsh through
which a sluggish stream wends it way to the distant river. Slimy
reptiles bask in the warm sun and glide lazily over the black, oozy
soil. At intervals the stillness is broken by the splash of a gigantic
bullfrog returning to his favorite pool. This acrobatic feat is usually
accompanied by a deep-throated cry of satisfaction, not unlike the
twanging of an ill-tuned guitar. On the edges of the marsh mud-covered
terrapins drag themselves through the weeds and disappear with
surprising swiftness when they see an intruder.

"Through this singular region, and overgrown with rank, sedgy grass, is
a wagon trail, here and there along its winding course several inches
under water; and into this wretched road we turned our horses. After a
half a mile or so we left the marsh and struck into firmer ground. Then
came a sharp bend in the undergrowth, and a clearing, several acres in
extent, burst into view. Here stood a white-washed cabin in the midst of
a little garden enclosed by a paling fence, and tall sunflowers, swaying
to and fro in the breeze, brushed the low-hanging eaves. Flowers grew
everywhere in profusion, and the rude porch at the front of the dwelling
was half buried in a mass of fragrant honey-suckle. White curtains,
gracefully looped, hung at the windows, and there was a charming air of
femininity and comfort about the place. We dismounted, and tied our
horses at the gate. As we approached the cabin an immense cat dozing on
the stoop sprang up hurriedly and darted into the vines. We knocked
repeatedly at the door without response. Finally, some one was heard
approaching, so we walked to the lean-to at the rear, and there saw,
coming up from the spring at the foot of the enclosure, a young and
astonishingly pretty girl. She was not at all startled by seeing us; in
fact, led us to believe from her manner that we were rather expected
than otherwise.

"'Walk right in,' said the little beauty. 'I reckon you folks must be
pretty well beat out after your long ride in the hot sun. It's a goodish
bit from here to the Hill, ain't it?'

"'How do you know that we are from the Hill?' I asked in surprise.

"'Oh, I know,' she replied. 'I saw ye both at the station when ye first
come, and then again at meetin' on Sunday. And you air a bride?' she
added, turning to my wife.

"'Yes, and a very happy one,' said Elizabeth, placing her hand upon my
shoulder in loving fashion. The child, for she was hardly more than
that, gave an odd little sigh, but quickly brightened up again.

"'I'm downright glad ye came,' she said heartily. 'I do so like folks to
be neighborly and sociable. Ye ain't stuck up, nuther, like most city
folks; no airs, nor the like o' that. Pap'll be home soon, and he'll be
glad to see ye too!'

"Then she prepared a nice luncheon in the living-room. The lightest
bread, delicious butter, preserved peaches, and some slices of
marvellous old ham; this, with a stone pitcher of cool, foamy milk, made
life very pleasant to the weary travelers. The girl declined to join us,
but sat near at hand, gazing intently at my wife. No detail of
Elizabeth's attire seemed to escape her.

"'Oh,' said she, partly to herself, 'what beautiful, beautiful clothes!'
And I registered a vow that she should have just such an outfit as soon
as we went back to New York.

"'That child, properly dressed, would attract attention anywhere; she
does not look at all bourgeois,' said my wife; and this from Elizabeth,
whose grandmother was a Boston Higglesworth, was a concession indeed.

"'Do not tell her so,' said I; 'it would certainly spoil her. She _is_
uncommonly pretty, I'll admit; but unless something unforeseen happens
she will probably marry within her own sphere of life, toil unceasingly,
rear a brood of uncouth bumpkins--a hag at thirty, and thus fulfil her
destiny.'

"Elizabeth looked exceeding wise, but said nothing.

"Ailsee came to us at that moment, and I looked at her closely as she
stood in the sunlight, her bonnet dangling from her arm. She was
undeniably beautiful--a dainty little head, crowned with a wealth of
golden-brown hair, sweet hazel eyes, a lovely mouth, and the most
bewitching dimples. There was nothing of the milkmaid style about her,
for she lacked the vivid coloring and tendency to embonpoint of the
typical rustic beauty. I pictured her to myself entering the room at one
of the Bachelors' on the arm of the leader of the cotillion, and the
subsequent sensation and heart-burnings.

"My reverie was interrupted by a hoarse voice calling, 'Ailsee!
Ailsee!'--seemingly just over in the forest.

"'Dad wants me,' she said with a smile. 'I'll go and fetch him back with
me. Please you folks wait a moment.' And she tripped lightly down the
garden and out into the wilderness beyond.

"Ten or fifteen minutes slipped by without the return of either Ailsee
or her father. The footfalls in the forest died away, and the stillness
was becoming oppressive.

"'Remarkable, truly,' said my wife, with a puzzled expression. 'Where
could she have gone? Do you think her father is keeping her? Dearest,'
she added gravely, 'don't laugh, I feel--I feel--that something dreadful
is going to happen. I don't know exactly what, but----'

"'Of course you don't know exactly what,' I interrupted. 'Come now, be a
sensible little woman. You surely don't believe in presentiments. It is
the heat; this sticky, Southern heat! I feel a little queer myself.'

"But nothing I could say quite banished the singular fancy which had
taken possession of my young wife. Womenkind cling tenaciously to absurd
ideas, especially when they are of the worrying kind; and Elizabeth
looked so troubled and sad that I soon caught the feeling and became
melancholy too.

"It was long past noon and intensely sultry, and we were sitting on the
porch where occasionally the faintest shadow of a breeze made life more
endurable. Our horses, maddened by the flies and heat, chafed and
stamped restlessly out at the gate. Elizabeth tried to amuse herself
with a huge album of daguerreotypes which occupied the place of honor in
the cabin parlor, and I smoked and lounged about, wondering what had
become of Ailsee.

"'Well,' said I at last, 'we can not wait here forever. If I am not
greatly mistaken there will be a storm before night, and we had better
get out of this at once. We can come down here some other day and renew
our acquaintance with the mysterious child of the forest.' So back
through the marsh we splashed our way, and arrived at Raven Hill barely
in time to escape the storm, which broke with fury just as Uncle Ashby
came around for our mud-bespattered steeds.

"Elizabeth went upstairs to change her dress and rest before dinner, and
I settled down in the library with the _Country Gentleman_. There was a
knock at the door, and Uncle Ashby came in.

"'Marse Livingstone,' he asked huskily, 'whar has you been wif de
horses?'

"I told him; and during the brief account of our adventures his face
grew ashen and his eyes seemed about to start out of his head. When I
was through he tottered over to the window, muttering, 'Gawd help us!
Gawd help us!'

"'What's the matter, Uncle Ashby?' I asked curiously. 'What on earth are
you so excited about?'

"'Boss,' said he entreatingly, 'doan' make me tell you--you'll be sorry
ef you do. 'Deed, Marster, I really mus' go now, sah; dey's waitin' fer
me at de stables. And youse been down dar an' seen it! Oh, Lordy,
Lordy!'

"'Come back here,' said I, my curiosity getting the better of me. 'Don't
be a fool, old man; brace up. What's the trouble? You are not afraid to
speak out, eh?'

"'Well, Marse Livingstone, ef I mus' tell you, I 'spose I mus'--thar
doan' 'pear to be no help fer it. But I'd ruther not, boss; 'deed, I'd
ruther not.'

"'Go on; tell your story,' said I impatiently. 'I guess I can stand it.
Just try me, anyhow.' So in the semi-darkness a marvellous tale was
unfolded to my ears.

"In the first place, Uncle Ashby solemnly assured me that I had that day
seen a ghost. The flesh-and-blood Ailsee, he declared, had been dead
many years. Her father, Coot Harris, was a rough customer who took up
his abode in the marsh--'mash,' Uncle Tucker called it--at the close of
the Civil War. Here he gained a precarious livelihood by 'pot-hunting';
for Harris and others of his ilk paid but little attention to the poorly
enforced game laws of the section. Coot Harris, the marshman, had a
daughter, who, as Uncle Ashby contemptuously remarked, 'was peart enuff,
as pore white trash folkses go.'

"This daughter was named Ailsee. Thwarted by her father in some love
affair with a swain of the neighborhood, she had drowned herself in a
gloomy pool in the very darkest part of the forest. The body was found
shortly afterward and buried in the cottage garden. Harris then left the
country and has never since been heard of. All this, according to Uncle
Ashby, happened twenty years ago. The ghost of the ill-starred Ailsee
had occasionally been seen by the country folk, but always with dire
results. Bad luck, disease, and in some cases death, had been the fate
of those who saw the 'ha'nt.' One man lost his house by fire within
forty-eight hours after the shadowy form crossed his path. The body of
another unfortunate was found floating in the creek; his eyes wide open,
staring horribly. The drowned man had but the day before made known the
fact that he had seen the wraith of the marshman's daughter. Still
another poor fellow had been taken, raving and violent, to the asylum.
Numerous additional instances, equally as harrowing, were cited by Uncle
Ashby, whose fervent belief in all that he said was rather impressive
than otherwise.

"I listened patiently to the old man until he finished. By that time the
storm had ceased and the sky, suddenly clearing in the west, revealed
the last rays of the setting sun, which brightened the room for a few
moments. I laughed softly when Uncle Ashby went out, and all that I had
heard of the ignorance, credulity, and superstition of the Southern
negro came into my mind. I sat for a while, musing in the gathering
dusk, and then went up to my room.

"The lamps had not been lighted in that portion of the house, and it was
quite dark. The atmosphere was stifling, as all the windows had been
closed at the approach of the storm. I raised them, and the cool, damp
air, heavy with the odor of jessamine, floated into the room. Elizabeth,
evidently greatly fatigued by the day's exertions, had thrown herself
upon a lounge at the foot of the bed. She was in her dressing-gown, and
her face was framed in masses of wavy brown hair which had become
uncoiled in her restless movements. I hesitated to awaken her, but as
sounds from below indicated the near approach of dinner I called her--at
first softly, and then in louder tones, an indefinable fear stealing
over me as I did so. I approached the couch, and tremblingly placed my
hand upon her forehead.... Ah, God, I cannot tell the rest!

"Seven years have dragged their weary length along since I lost my dear
young wife and the light of my life was extinguished forever! Now, all
is darkness! darkness!

"Subsequent investigation, supported by the testimony of well-known and
thoroughly reliable residents of the country, confirmed in every
particular the truth of Uncle Ashby's story. A visit to the marshman's
cottage some days after my wife's death revealed a ruinous mouldering
habitation, in the midst of a wilderness of weeds and vines. A mournful,
desolate spot, shunned and avoided by all for the past twenty years, and
yet had I not seen----" Tippett paused abruptly, with bowed head and
eyes tear-dimmed.

"Here, old chap, take this," said Colonel Manysnifters, hastily pouring
out and handing him a stiff drink. Tippett, obeying, was somewhat
revived, and continued.

"I returned to Brooklyn with the body of my wife. My mother followed her
to the grave a few months later. All in the world that was dear to me
was now lost. I took to drink; I sunk lower and lower, dissipated my
little fortune, friends forsook me; and by quick stages in the
descending scale I found myself, as I said before--an outcast! Yet,
through all my troubles I have never entertained the thought of
self-destruction. I have no desire whatever to seek--

    "'The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn
    No traveler returns,--puzzles the will,
    And makes us rather bear those ills we have
    Than to fly to others we know not of.'"

It was long after midnight when Tippett concluded his story and the
gathering broke up; not, however, before sleeping-quarters had been
found for the unfortunate man, and a promise given by Senator Bull to
put him on his feet again in the far West--an offer gladly accepted in
all sincerity, and a venture which proved highly successful, as most of
the long-headed Senator's usually did.

Morning brought relief, the track was cleared, and our train proceeded
on its way, arriving at Washington many hours behind schedule; its
occupants but little the worse for their experience--Colonel
Manysnifters, I believe, with a slight headache.

End of Project Gutenberg's The Statesmen Snowbound, by Robert Fitzgerald