6 lo SYNOPSIS. Howard Jeffries, banker's son. under the evil intiuenco of Hubert Underwood, u fellow-student at Yale, leads :i life of dissipation, marries the daughter of a gambler who died In prison, and is dis ci.. in ii by his father. H<' tries to get work end fails. A former college chum makes a business proposition to Howard which requires JJ.ooo cash, and Howard Is broke. Robert L'nderwood. who had been re pulsed by Howard's wife, Annie, in his college days, and had once been engaged to Alicia, Howard's stepmother, has apartments at the Astruria, and is ap parently in prosperous circumstances. Howard recalls a J.'.'iO loan to Underwood, that remains unpaid, and decides to ask him for the sl',oi)o he needs. Underwood, taking advantage of his intimacy with Mrs. Jeffries, Sr., becomes a sort of social highwayman. Discovering his true char acter She denies him the house. Under wood's absence from a function causeß comment among Mrs. Jeffries' guests. CHAPTER IV.—Continued. "In a word," laughed the judge, "you mean that any one trained to read my mind can tell just what's passing in my brain?" "Precisely," replied the doctor with a smile "the psychologist can tell with almost mathematical accuracy just how your mental mechanism is work ing. I admit it sounds uncanny, but it can be proved. In fact, it has been proved, time and time again." Alicia came up and took the doc tor's arm. "Oh, Dr. Bernstein," she protested, "I can't allow the judge to monopolize you in this way. Come with me. I want to introduce you to a most charming woman who is dying to meet you. She is perfectly crazy on psychology." "Don't introduce me to her," laughed the judge. "I see enough crazy people in the law courts." Dr. Bernstein smiled and followed his hostess. Judge Brewster turned to chat with the banker. From the dis tant music room came the sound of a piano and a beautiful soprano voice. The rooms were now crowded and newcomers were arriving each min ute. Servants passed in and out serv ing iced delicacies and champagne. Suddenly the butler entered the salon and, quietly approaching Alicia, handed her a letter. In a low tone .he said: "This letter has just come, in'm. The messenger said it was very im portant and I should deliver it at once." Alicia turned pale. She instantly recognized the handwriting. It was from Robert Underwood. Was not her last message enough? How dare he address her again and at such a time? Retiring to an inner room, she tore open the envelope and read as follows: Dear Mrs. Jeffries: This is the last time I shall ever bore you with my let ters. You have forbidden me to see you again. Practically you have sentenced me to a living death, but as I prefer death shall not be partial, but full and complete oblivion, I take this means of letting you know that unless you revoke your cruel sentence of banishment, I shall make an end of it all. I shall be found dead, Monday ■ morning, and you will know who is responsible. Yours devotedly, ROBERT UNDERWOOD. An angry exclamation escaped Alicia's lips, and crushing the note up in her hand, she bit her lips till the blood came. It was just as she feared. The man was desperate. He was not to be got rid of so easily. How dare he—how dare he? The coward —to think that she could be frightened by such a threat. What did she care if he killed himself? It would be good riddance. Yet suppose he was in earnest, suppose he did carry out his threat? There would be a terrible scandal, an investigation, people would talk, her name would be men tioned. No —no —that must be pre vented at all costs. Distracted, not knowing what course to pursue, she paced the floor of the room. Through the closed door she could hear the Biusic and the chatter of her guests. She must goto see Underwood at once, that was certain, and her visit must be a secret one. There was already enough talk. If her enemies could hear of her vis iting him alone In his apartments that would be the end. "Yes—l must see him at once. To morrow is Sunday. He's sure to be home in the evening. He mentions Monday morning. There will still be time. I'll go anu see him to-morrow." "Alicia! Alicia!" Tiie door opened and Mr. Jeffries put his head in. "What are you doing here, my dear?" he asU».d. "I was looking everywhere for yon. Judge Brewster wishes to say good-night." "I was fixing my hair, that's all," replied Alicia with perfect compos ure. CHAPTER V. Among the many huge caravansaries that of recent years have sprung up in New York to provide luxurious quarters regardless of cost for those who ran afford to pay for the best, iiom could rival the Astruria in size and magnificence. Occi pying an en tire block In the very heart of the |AMftmoaAtravE apc7 JflyXZy 1 LLDI7II LLDI7II "IHIRD DECMX KLEIN Y w A A/VID * W ARTHUR SIORNBLOW V ILLUSTRATIONS ftY RAY WALTER^ COPrRICNT, 1909, Br o.w. DILLINGHAM COMPANY - residential district, it took precedence over all the oilier apartment hotels of the metropolis as the biggest and most splendidly appointed hostelry of its kind in the world. It was, indeed, a small city in itself. It was not nec essary for its fortunate tenants to leave it unless they were so minded. Everything for their comfort and pleasure was to be had without taking the trouble togo out of doors. On the ground floor were shops of all kinds, which catered only to the •Astruria's patrons. There were also on the premises a bank, a broker's office, a hairdresser, and a postal tele graph office. A special feature was the garden court, containing over 30,- 000 square feet of open space, and tastefully laid out with palms and flowers. Here fountains splashed and an orchestra played while the patrons lounged on comfortable rattan chairs or gossiped with their friends. Up on the sixteenth floor was the cool roof garden, an exquisite bower of palms and roses artificially painted by a famous French artist, with its rech erche restaurant, its picturesque tziganes, and its superb view of all Manhattan island. The Astruria was the last word in expensive apartment hotel building. Architects declared that it was as far as modern lavishness and extrava gance could go. Its interior arrange ments were in keeping with its ex ternal splendor.' Its apartments were of noble dimensions, richly decorated, and equipped with every device, new and old, that modern science and builders' ingenuity could suggest. That the rents were on a scale with the ■n "Yes, I Must See Him at Once." grandeur of the establishment goes without saying. Only long purses could stand the strain. It was a fa vorite headquarters for Westerners who had "struck it rich," wealthy bachelors, and successful actors and opera singers who loved the limelight on and off the stage. Sunday evening was usually exceed ingly quiet at ihe Astruria. Most of the tenants were out of town over the week-end, and as the restaurant ana roof garden were only slimly patrpn ized, the elevators ran less frequently, making less chatter and bustle in cor ridors and stairways. Stillness reigned everywhere as if the sobering influ ence of the Sabbath had invaded even this exclusive domain of the unholy rich. The uniformed attendants, hav ing nothing to do, yawned lazily in the deserted halls. Some even in dulged in surreptitious naps in cor ners, confident that they would not be disturbed. Callers were so rare that when some one d'-d enter from the street, he was lookvd upon with suspicion. It wa.i shortly after seven o'clock the day following Mrs. Jeffries' re ception when a man came in by the main entrance from Broadway, and approaching one of the hall boys, in quired for .Mr. Robert Underwood. The boy gave his interlocutor an impudent stare. There wan something about the caller's dress and manner which told him instinctively that he was not dealing with a visitor whom he must treat respectfully. No one divines a man's or woman's social utatus quicker or more unerringly than a servant. The attendant saw at once that "the raaa did not belong CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, MARCH 9, 1911. (8 the class which paid social visits to tenants in the Astruria. He wan rather seedy looking, his collar wau not immaculate, his boots were thick and clvjmsy, his clothes cheap and ill fitting. "Is Mr. Underwood in?" he de manded. "Not home," replied the attendant insolently, after a pause. Like most hall boys, he took a savage pleasure in saying that the tenants were out. The caller looked annoyed. "He must be in,"he said with a frown. "1 have an appointment with him." This was not strictly true, but the bluff had the desired effect. "Got an appointment! Why didn't you say so at once?" Reaching lazily over the telephone switchboard, and without rising from his seat, he asked surlily: "What's the name?" "Mr. Bennington." The boy took the transmitter and spoke into it: "A party called to see Mr. Under wood." There was a brief pause, as if the person upstairs was in doubt whether to admit that he was home or not. Then came the answer. The boy looked up. "He says you should go up. Apart ment 165. Take the elevator." In his luxurious appointed rooms on the fourteenth floor, Robert Under wood sat before the fire puffing ner vously at a strong cigar. All around him was a litter of objets d'art, such as would have filled the heart of any connoisseur with joy. Oil paintings in heavy gilt frames, of every period and school, Rembrandts, Cuyps, Ruys daels, Reynoldses, Corots, Hennera, some on easels, some resting on the floor; handsome French bronzes, dainty china on Japanese teakwood tables, antique furniture, gold em broidered clerical vestments, hand painted screens, costly oriental rugs, rare ceramics—all were confusedly jumbled together. On a grand piano in a corner of the room stood two tall cloisonne vases of almost inestimable value. On a desk close by were piled miniatures and rare ivories. The walls were covered with tapestries, armor, and trophies of arms. More like a museum than a sitting room, it was the home of a man who made a business' of art or made of art a busi ness. Underwood stared moodily at the glowing logs in the open chimney place. His face was pale and de-- terniined. After coming in from the restaurant he had changed his tux edo for the more comfortable house coat. Nothing called him away that particular Sunday evening, and no one was likely to disturb him. Ferris, his man servant, had taken his usual Sunday off and would not return until midnight. The apartment was still as the grave. It was so high above the street that not a sound reached up from the noisy Broadway below. Un derwood liked the quiet so that he could think, and he was thinking hard. On the flat desk at hia elbow stood a dainty demi-tasse of black coffee—.lll - There were glasses and de canters of whisky and cordial, but the stimulants did not leuiyi kiui. lie wondered If Alicia would Ignore his letter or If she would come to him. Surely she could not be HO heart less as to throw him over at such a moment. Crushed in his left bund wus a copy of the New York Herald containing an elaborate account of the brilliant reception and musicale given the previous evening at her home. With an exclamation of impatience he rose from his seat, threw the paper from him, and began to pace the floor. Was this the end of everything? | Had he reached the end of his rope? i He must pay the reckoning, if not to j day, to-morrow. AB his eyes wan dered around the room and he took mental inventory oi eat— costly ob ject. he experienced a situien shock as he recalled the things that were missing. How could he explain their absence? The art dealers were al ready suspicious. They were not to be put off any longer with excuses. Any moment they might insist either on the immediate return of their prop erty or on payment in full. He was in the position to do neither. The articles had been sold and the money lost gambling. Curse the luck! Every thing had gone against him of late. The dealers would begin criminal pro ceedings, disgrace and prison stripes would follow. There was no way out jof it. He had no one to whom he ■ could turn in this crisis. And now even Alicia had deserted him. This was the last straw. While I he was still able to boast of the friendship and patronage of the aris | tocratic Mrs. Howard Jeffries he ! could still hold his head high in the j world. No one would dare question j his Integrity, but now she had aban ! doned him to his fate, people would be : gin to talk. There was no use keep i lng up a hopeless fight—suicide was ! the only way out! He stopped in front of a mirror, j startled at what he saw there. It ; was the face of a man not yet 30, but ] apparently much older. The features I were drawn and haggard, and his dark j hair was plentifully streaked with I gray. He looked like a man who had I lived two lives in one. To-night his i face frightened him. His eyes had a | fixed stare like those of a man he I had once seen in a madhouse. He wondered if men looked like that when j they were about to be executed. Was not his own hour close at hand? He wondered why the clock was so noisy; it seemed to him that the ticks were louder than usual. He started sud- I denly and looked around fearfully. He thought he had heard a sound outside. He shuddered as he glared toward the lit'le Isawer or. the right-hand side of bis desk, in which he knew there was a loaded revolver. If Alicia would only relent escape might yet be possible. If he did not ! hear from her it must be for to-night. | One slight little pressure on the trig ger and all would be over. Suddenly the bell of the telephone connecting the apartment with the main hall downstairs rang violently. Interrupted thus abruptly in the midst of his reflections, Underwood Jumped forward, startled. His nerves were so unstrung that he was ever apprehensive of danger. With a trem ulous hand, he took hold of the re ceiver and placed it to his ear. As he listened, his already pallid face turned whiter and the lines about his mouth tightened. He hesitated a moment be fore replying. Then, with an effort, he said: "Send him up." Dropping the receiver, he began to walk nervously up and down the room. The crisis had come sooner than he expected—exposure was at hand. This man Bennington was the man ager of the firm of dealers whose goods he disposed of. He could not make restitution. Prosecution was in evitable. Disgrace and prison would follow. He could not stand it; he would rather kill himself. Trouble was very close at hand, that was certain. How could he get out of it? Pacing the floor, he bit his lips till the blood came. * There was a sharp ring at the front door. Underwood opened it. As he recognized his visitor on the thresh old, he exclaimed: "Why, Bennington, this is a sur prise !" The manager entered awkwardly. • He had the constrained air of a man j who has come on an unpleasant er rand, but wants to be as amiable as the circumstances will permit. "You didn't expect me, did you?" he began. Shutting the front door, Underwood led the way back into the sitting room, and making an effort to control his nerves, said: "Sir. down, won't you?" But Mr. Bennington merely bowed stiffly. It was evident that he did not wish his call to be mistaken for a so cial visit. "I haven't time, thank you. To be frank, my mission is rather a delicate one, Mr. Underwood." (TO BE CONTINUED.) Corfu's Queer Laws. Corfu, where a magnificent marble palace belonging to the German em peror, is said to have just been pur chased by an American millionaire, can boast of the most peculiar land laws in the world. The landlords are nearly all absentees, and their tenants hold the land 011 a perpetual lease in return for a rent payable in kind and fixed at a certain proportion of the produce. Such a tenant is considered a co owner of the soil, and he cannot be expelled but for non-payment of rent, bad culture, or the transfer of h>, lease without the landlord's permis sion. 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