THE FATAL REQUEST OR FOUND OUT By A. L. Harris Author of “Mine Own Familiar Friend," etc. Copyright, I n y / , by C a i i « t l Publithiug Company. Copyright, lung, bystreet <6 Smith, CHAPTER XXII.—Continued. Before he could reply the house- j maid put in another word. "Begging your pardon for speaking, after being told to hold my tongue, hut it's something beginning with a B'—as I saw it myself in a prayer book I came across accidental.’’ "So ihat is how you came by your Information,” said her master. “Some thing Deginning with a ’B,' is it? Sup pose you let me sec the book?” "Which I intended to have showed it to you at the first,” she said, fum bling in her pocket and producing the well worn little volume, which she was about to hand to her master, when— A sudden dart —a long arm stretch ed out. and a powerful hand wrested it from her. “This is my property,” exclaimed its owner, sternly. “The name writ ten within may be mine or another’s, but so long as I choose to keep It a secret—secret It shall remain.” •’This is most extraordinary con duct!” exclaimed Mr. Ferrers, "most extraordinary! Under the circum stances, only one course is <,pen to me. It is impossible for me to harbor under my roof one who has obtained admittance under a false name, and absolutely refuses any explanation. I must, therefore,”—assuming his se verest expression, while the young man seemed to hold h's breath as he waited for the sentence to be pro nounced upon him—“l must, there fore, discharge you at once, and with a month’s wages in lieu of the ordi nary notice.” It was all up. “When—when am l to leave?” in quired Ted. with eyes fixed upon the flw himself had said, there might be rea sons, not necessarily bad. for tlie con cealment—“you can remain until to morrow. if you like.” Victory! Another night, which was all he required. He could scarcely prevent himself from showing some signs of exulta tion. Ah! perhaps by this time to morrow the situation might be chang ed. He might be the judge, and an other-— “Stay one moment,” Mr. Ferrers continued. This time he addressed the woman Perkins, who had reached the door. "As I have also a strong objection to persons who pry into other people's I concerns and interfere wit 11 their pri- i vute property, you may as well take , a month's notice at the same time. That will do: you can go.” The biter was bit. Site had not a word to say for herself. She had succeeded in wreaking her spite upon him who had despised her attractions and repulsed her overtures, but site had done it at tne expense of a good situation. Moreover, the man whose disgrace she had labored to secure laughed in her face as he passed her. CHAPTER XXIII. The Envelope With Three Seals. It was twelve o'o-ock on Friday ' night. The clock in the hall below had struck the hour. Another half hour licked slowly by. and at the end 1 of that time a floor in the upper part of the house was opened softly and by imperceptible degrees. The room within was in darkness and the figure of the man who cau tiously emerged was barely visible in the general glot m. He crept lightly on his stockinged feet past the doors of the rooms on the upper floor, and began to descend the staircase. II was much in his favor, the stairs being so well and so massively con structed, that there was no startling and treacherous creak to betray the feet which trod them secretly in the dead of night. And so he made his way slowly a.,d safely to the floor on which the room was situated Into which he was minded to penetrate. After careful and noiseless search, fio succeeded in laying his ham! upon a candle and a box of matches, which, earlier in the evening, he had secreted In a convenient, but out of the way comer. - found--distressing scenes—-the in quest—the verdict—mysterious dis covery with regard to'a first class pas senger—foul play suspected! Verdict of Wilful Murder!'’ And so on and soon he retraced his way through the whole of that dark tragedy—wasting what he felt to he precious time, but unable to tear his attention away from these records of the past. At last he rammed the paper back into its pigeon hole and turned nis attention again to the drawer be neath. When it at last yielded to his efforts, he was rewarded by the sight of a flatly folded packet of parchment, tied with tape—the iden tical last will and testament which he had heard spoken of so often l>y the cook. But this, though of Interest in one way, was not that of which he was in search, and he began to fee! a qualm of fear lest, after all, his quest should prove useless. His eye, roaming restlessly about, was caught by the gleam of brass in a dark corner. The candle, which was sufficient to light him at his task, still left the greater part of the room in semi-darkness, and there was some thing over there, iu that corner, which lie had not taken into account. It was an old fashioned piece of fur niture—the only shabby and evidently second hand article in the room. It was an upright article and was divid ed into two portions, the lower con taining drawers and the upper being shut in with doors, which were fitted with a brass lock aad fastening. It was old and much scratched, and had apparently seen considerable use; but must have been a good article originally. Hi* took the candle in his hand and, crossing the room, inspect ed it closely. "There is a look about it"—holding the candle up higher— “as though it might have a history attached to it. It looks"—with a sud den impulse—"as though it might be trusted to keep a secret.” He put the candle upon the mantelpiece close by and again resumed his burglarious operations. "I shall soon be able to pass muster as an experienced house breaker. at this rate.” he remarked to himself, with grim irony, as the* lock turned traitor, and the door, swinging open, revealed a number of drawers within, each garnished with a lock and brass handle. Which should he attack first? Much time had already been wasted, and at that moment, as though in answer, the clock on the mantelpiece chimed three, while the clock in the hall without repeated the tour after it. He struck a match, and. lighting the candle, advanced towards the door of the apartment into the lock of which he inserted his duplicate key. He entered and closed the door lie hind him, without, however, com pletely shutting it. He put his candle down on the writ ing table while ho considered what was to he done next. The waste paper basket first attracted his atten tion as being at once the nearest and the easiest object on which to exer cise his powers of investigation. It was about a quarter full of torn fragments, which he promptly emptied out before him. A rapid and cursory examination was sufficient to prove that these were of no import ance. So he swept them back into their original receptacle. The next thing to he done must lie to tackle the writing table. How was this to be accomplished? Shocking to relate, he produced from his pocket nothing less than—a bunch of skele ton keys! To his great disappointment one after another of the drawers up in the right hand proved to be empty. He turned his attention to those on his left. He put his hand to one and pulled out the tightly wedged contents. He spread it open; yes, it was a news paper-some months old. What could he the reason for preserving it? A sudden thought—he looked at the date and then—Yes, there it was on the in side sheet. "Terrible Kailway Acci dent! The 4:30 train from Dover wrecked anil partially consumed!” There was a full account, of that ghastly affair, with minute details of all the horrors—a recollection of which returned to him. most vividly as he scanned the column, lie re placed the first, and took down an other and another. "Further details- number of bodies ‘‘1 wfl! try ‘he third first.” he said, and inserted one of his skeleton keys into the lock. This drawer—the third in order from the top—on being opened showed itself. strangely enough, to contain three articles, all of a widely different c haracter. These were a large and tmlkr en velope. a revolver and a entail bottle of colorless fltiio. The young man could not repress an exclamation of surprise and triumph as his eye fell upon these. The secret he had been in search of so long lay ready to his hand— th* proofs of the crime were there* wait ing for hitu to grasp them. He knew it. unci yet hesitated. The shock of the discovery seemed to paralyze his hand, so that for an instant he was unable to stretch forth and take pos session of what he believed would make him master of a man's fate. At last lie put out hi~ hand, which trembled as lie did so. and took up the* revolver. It was a six-chamber revol ver, and a glance showed that one ony of the chambers had been dis charged. A tierce, hungry look came over his face as be noticed this, and. laying the weapon down, lie* searched for some thing which he always carried about him—the conical shaped bullet which had been discovered in the stuffing of the fourth carriage front the engine. He dropped it into the empty cham ber, which it fitted exactly. "Proof number one!” he* said, with grim joy, as hp felt the dreadful thirst for blood return upon him with all it?, former strength. He laic!, the revolver down and took tip the small stoppered bottle. What was this, and what hear ing had its contents upon the* matter? He removed the stopper and inhaled the contents carefully. A strong ami unmistakable odor of bitter almonds greeted him. Prussic acid, beyond doubt! What did this point to? There seemed, to be only one answer pos sible Suicide! A means of escape provided in case of the worst happen ing. He replaced the stopper aurl placed the bottle by the side of the revolver, while lie took up the third and last article. This was the envel ope before mentioned. It was large and thick and sealed in no less than • hree places. On it. in place of an address, were written the strange words'. "To tie burned, unopened, alter my death.” To be burned, unopened, after his death! what did that mean? Why. if it were to be burned, unopened, bad he put himself to the pains of writing it? For that the envelope contained the completed copy of the "true narra tive and confession of the strange tragedy" lie had not the least doubt. But. why had he described it as the ' strange tragedy? Cowardly and de- j testable it might well be- but why | strange? "At any rate, so far from its being ' burned, unopeped." lie said, aloud. "1 will now ntyself He held the letter in one hand and, 1 with the other he was about to break the seals, when a voice cried: "Stop! ” (To lie continued.) Doctors Knew a Good Thing. Congressman. John Sharp Williams tells of a man in Mississippi who is a hypochondriac of the first order. This individual's failing is a source of nev er-ending amusement to liis fellow townsmen. It was of this man that some one humorously remarked, in an swer to a question as to how the sick man was getting on. that "he com plained that he was feeling somewhat belter.” Mr. Williams says that the hypo chondriac was one day telling a friend of his efforts to regain his old-time health. Hu ran over the list of doc tors whom he had consulted. Where upon the friend remarked: "Well.
Cerdic. 395 A. 1)., the HafP burgs to 952 A. D.. and the ilotilvi zollerns to the eighth century, l>wt as kings only to 1701. Why It Wasn't Le£8l. In the New York Ijtw School at a recent lecture on the m-£ing of wills the case of a woman IJI one of Rider Haggard's books wr.s cited. This woman had a man's will inscribed in ink on her back. And the will was held regular and legal because it had been made in vrMting. After giving this practical illustra tion. tin- v>r/d'essor called on John Smith, sayv.g: “Is a v til so inscribed regular and legal in your opinion?" “No,' answered Smith. “Why not?” asked the professor. “Because it's a skin game," replica Stwfin. The professor felt angry enough to order Smith out of the room, but tho class laughed so much that he d