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30
THE PITT3BUKG- 15ISPAT0H, SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 1
"1889;
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FEE SILVER LOCKET.
n
i CHATTEB J.
f?Z
A M a plain-clothes
officer, James Dryland by
name, age 35, married. If
it had not been for the
deepness of Sigismund
Hannay I should have
been still a bachelor. Of
course Sigismund Hannay
was only indirectly con
cerned in my marriage,
bnt nndonbtedly if it had
not been for him I should
haTe been still a bachelor.
It came about, you see, in this way: I
lad been 13 years in the police, I had servtd
as a constable, I had served as a sergeant,
there was nothing against me. I was a
plain-clothes officer at last, and on my pro
motion I had hoped to marry. Annie
that's my wife was a nice girl, an only
child, and a bit above me, I own it; but I
Tiad walked out with Annie since she was
17, that's five years ago, so you see she is
quite a young thing, now only 23.
Annie's old father was very proud
of her, proud of her good looks, proud of
her education, which, as I said, is above
mine, and proud of her having been left
1,000, which he had the use of for his life,
but which on his death came to Annie.
Annie, then, was an heiress in a small
way. Annie's father, old Day, lived in a
little house in Hoxton. Five years ago I
walked past it when I was looking for fresh
lodgings. It seemed very neat and clean,
and in the window was a card, "Lodgings
for a resDectable single man." I am a
single man, said I, the place will suit
me
just suit me. x Enoccea,
the door was
opened. Annie appeared;
I asked to see
the lodgings,
me she said:
Instead of showing them to
"Yon can see father." I saw
father. Old Day was sitting by the fire,
his legs wrapped up in a rug.
"Good day," says he.
"Morning," savs I, and I began asking
about his lodgings. But he never answered
me one word.
"Are you respectable?"
"Of course I am." says J.
"What are you?"
"An officer," savs L
"Sheriff's officer?" with a grin. "Won't
do," says he.
"No, police," said I, indignant-like.
"That's better. But," said he, with a sort
of reckon-yon-up look, "how about respecta
bility thopgh?"
"Sou can ask my inspector," said I; "he's
in of a morning till noon."
"Won't do it isn't good enough."
"Good morning," says I, getting up, and
feeling very riled with the old fellow.
"Sit still I mean it isn't good enough for
me; I can't so to him. I'm only half a
man; my lower half wrong. Can you do for
voorseltj policeman?" said the old man.
"No objection to," said "I; and after some
ten minutes' talking it was arranged that I
"was to see the rooms, and if I liked them I
could have them very cheap: all he wanted
was protection for himself and his daughter.
"1 can't stand women," said he, "and yon
can take the girl out a bit now and then."
I opened my eyes, but the old man meant
no harm; I was a policeman, that was
enough for him, and he didn't consider that
policemen have hearts. We settled it. I
saw the rooms, my inspector was to call
round and speak for me. He did call,
and he satisfied old Day. I went to live at
Hoxton. I did as he suggested. I took the
girl out now and then. I was a steady man,
she was a steady girl; no harm came of it
why should there? But we fell in love. I
spoke to the old man.
"Jim," said he, "it can't be done. You're
but a common policeman, my girl will have
some money, and it can't be, Jim."
This was the first I'd heard of money. I
pleaded; all no use. Annie pleaded; all no
use. Next day the old man called me into
his parlor; there he sat all day, like an old
toad in a tree; he never mored he couldn't,
poor old chap!
"Sit down," says he. "Jim, I've thought
it over," and then he told me of the thou
sand pounds. "Now," says he, "I'm a
cripple, Jim, and I can't part with my girl,
and she won't get the money till I'm dead.
There is one way; stay on where you are.
Jim, go on as you are, and w hen you've
earned 500, why, take my girl; stay on
here with me, and when I'm gone she
shall have the money 1,000. It's a fair
offer, Jim; what do you sav?"
What could I saj? 1 was worth some
thing under 50 at tnat time; how could I
earn 500?
"It's to take or to leave," said old Dav.
"I agree," said L. .Not that I had
idea I should ever get 500 together, bnt I
didn't like to leave Annie.
"You won't mention it to Annie, Jim?"
"Not I," said I.
He slapped his hand into mine, and he lit
his pipe; he never said another word on the
subject again. Things went on as they had
done. I used to see Annie about, and take
my walks with her, and I used to read the
paper of an evening to the old man, just as
usual. He always used to make me begin
with the agony column.
One night I sat prepared to commence
reading to him.
"Anything in my way?" said he. He
' meant the agonies.
"Nothing," said L
"Anything in your way, Jim?" He
meant the rewards for lost property, crim
inals, and such like.
"Only Sigismuud Hannay," said I.
"Who's he?" said old Day.
Now I hadn't read the continual adver
tisements about Sigismund Hannay to him,
for when a big reward was offered he would
put down his pipe with an irritating way
he had, and grinning at me sav
"That's a nice little sum, Jim Dryland,
why don't you earn it?"
I began, ".Five hundred pounds reward."
"That's the exact sum, Jim Dryland,"
savs he; "why don't yon earn it?"
i didn't answer him, I was too much dis
gusted. I read the advertisement. No
need to read it, I knew it bv heart I know
it by heart cow. This is what it was:
FIVE HTJXDBED POUNDS EETVABD.
"Wanted, Sigismund Hannay, who has
absconded, taking with him the following
securities" (here followed a long list of
bonds that the criminal had taken with
him.) "A percentage will be paid in addi
tion upon all the securities recovered.
"Sigismund Hannay, a native of Saxony,
is 5 ieet 10 inches high, stoops a little,speaks
English fluently, with a slight German ac
cent; when much excited his right evelid
droops slightly. Had on when last'seen
shepherd's plaid trousers, a cutaway
coat ana Test of black diagonal
cloth, plain gold shirt studs,
a tall hat with a black mourning band,
Edwards maker; brown merino socks, and
light Oxonian shoes. He has enrly chest
nut hair, blue eyes, slight mustache, and
beard same color; is of pleasing personal
appearance and manners. All communica
tions to Inspector Roberts, Scotland Yard."
"Bead it again, Jim."
I read it again; old Day never said one
word. I read the paper through to him.
When I'd finished, and risen to bid him
good night, he said:
"Bead it again, Jim."
"Bead what?" said I.
"Abont him," said the old man.
I knew very well what he meant. "If I
were a young map, Jim Dryland; if I had
my sweetheart's happiness and my own
happiness depending on it, I'd find Sigis
rannd Hannay, leastwavs I'd tryto." That's
what he meant.
He wished me good night, jnst as he
always did. Annie shook bauds; 1 just
squeezed hers.
And I went to bed, to dream, as I had
dreamt lor some time, of Sigismund Han
nay, me native of Saxony, five feet ten
tmnltAa lli .1. T 1 a 1 .- r il j
M.wiwiuj,u)tK. j. uauuecii w Dcouanu,
xara, ana x had seen Inspector Roberts.
jile told me it was a. city case, not in .my
tway at alL I was mostly concerned in
if i
4 Knlyviio
other things, and the Inspector showed me
Hannay's portrait.
There he sat, the man who was worth
500 to me, and more, perhaps. Of course
it wasn't likely that I should be put on to
the trapping of Sigismund Hannay not
likely. I had my own regular work. Still
I heard all there was to bear about him.
That was not much. There was not the
slightest clew to Hannay or the securities.
Qld Day had been in his time an attend
ant at a private madhouse what you call
a keeper, you know and many a curious
yarn he could tell of those madhouses, and
the goings on in the old days; but now he
said it was all changed, all fair and square,
and straightforward.
Some 20 years before, Day had been sent
to a special job; he was attendant to the in
sane son of a man of rank; he stayed there,
married a servant in the family, and when
the patient died, out of gratitude for
the care he took of his son, the
gentleman settled 1,000 on old
Day. Old Day lived on that
50 a year, and his savings. Mrs. Day
died, and the old fellow, being alone with
his girl, took me to live with them as watch
dog, as I have related. Now old Day had
one great friend, old Stewart. Old Stewart
was an attendant at a large private asylum
in the environs of London. Whenever old
Stewart had an hour or two to spare, he
wonld come and sit and smoke with his
old comrade Day he was very fond of old
The Old Han Satjiejore the Fire, His Legs
Moiled Up in a Blanket.
Day, he was, very fond; but he was also
fond ot Annie, and he was 50 if he was a
day. I didn't like old' Stewart, but I took
care not to show it, and I took care not to
seem jealous of him, but I was, for all that
In those davs I used to studv French. I
thought it might get me on in the force, and
I worked hard at it. I sat poring over my
grammar in old Day's room, when who
should come in but Stewart. I wished him
good evening, but I returned to my work,
and, elbows on the table, I ground away at
my verbs.
I thought of Stewart and Annie. Stew
art's presence seemed to annoy me. I
could not concentrate my attention; invol
untarily I began to listen to their talk, as
usual about the "establishment," as they
called it
"New boarder yesterday," said Stewart
they never called them madmen, but
"boarders."
"Bad case?" said old Day.
"Urn," said Stewart; "curious case; he
beats me, the follow does. I've been on
asylum work, man and boy, this 33 year,
and he's the first boarder I ever see as liked
it and he does, he likes it"
"Likes it," said old Day as if he was
being chafed; "you don't say that?"
"I do, though," said Stewart; "that's just
it, he likes it! There weren't no fuss at all
when 'the "Winker' comes in." (I noticed
they mostly had nicknames for their patients
which they used among themselves.) " 'I
think I'll go to bed at once," says he, quite
quiet like. 'I think I'll go to bed at once.
Are you a keeper?' says he. 'Show me my
room.' 'I'm an attendant, sir,' says
'All the same,' says he, and tips me a little
wink. I marches him off into one of our
doubles, as per usual. 'I'll valet you.
sir,' says I. 'You can go,' says he, cool
asla cucumber, tipping me another wink,
however, there T stood, a-waiting on him;
and feeling of each of his pockets for
knives and such like. I leaves him his
watch, and I leaves him his
money till I gets my orders,
and as he jumps into bed, without a-saying
of his prayers, says I to myself. "You won't
be here long, young fellow."
"What are you taking my clothes for?"
"Taking to brush," says I.
"Jnst so," says he with another wink
that cool he took me aback. "Good night,"
says he.
"Good night, sir," says L
"And five minutes after, when I come
back, he was as sound as a house."
"Bum case," said Day.
"I beliere you," said old Stewart "I
goes in to the doctor for my instructions."
"Sate in bed, sir," says L
"Very good," says he.
"I suppose I'd better sleep in this room,
sir?"
, "Oh, no! quite needless!" said he, taking
me all of a heap; "he's a chronic case."
"About his tninjjs, sir," said L
"Oh, he can retain them," said he, in his
stand-off way. "You might have knocked
me down with a feather, Day."
I heard no more; Ididn't listen; their talk
didn't interest me. Stewart left after supper.
Many of these chats took place between
Day and Stewart ot an evening. Gradually
I dropped into their conversation unawares;
there was no secrecy; the two men seemed
at loggerheads about one of the patients.
Stewart stoutly maintained that one of the
"boarders" at Selby House was sane. Old
Dav laughed at him.
"One would think we were in the old
times, Stewart And the man attempts no
escape, and seems comfortable, and is sane
pooh!"
"The Winker's as sane as I am, Jack,"
sulkily asserted Stewart, "and what's more,
the doctor and the 'prop' had words about
him the other day."
By the "prop" he meant the proprietor,
who was not a doctor at all, as he had told
us. The two old fellows wrangled over the
pros and cons of the matter till supper
time.
"Bv the way, I found a locket, Annie, to
day," said Stewart to my Annie. Ididn't
like his calling her Annie, but he was an
old man and presumed on it
"Would you like to see it?" She nodded,
and he drew from his pocket a battered
silver locket In it were two colored
portraits, an old lady with little old-
fashiononed cnrls at her temples on one Bide,
the portrait of a handsome boy with curling
hair on the other. I looked at him with
interest; I seemed to have seen his face be
fore, but conlda't recall it
"It won't be long before its claimed,"
said Stewart, "and that find will not be
worth much to me. I expect it belongs to
one of our boarders. "What's it worth, ser
geant?" said he, passing it to me.
"A matter ot 5 shillings, I should say,"
weighing it in my palm. And I noticed
that on each side was a worn monogram
M. S. V. on one side, H. S. on the other
Stewart put the old locket in his pocket
and, supper over, toot his leave.
I soon went to my bed, but not to sleep.
The 500 reward didn't give me much
chance of that Wauted,Sigismund Hannay,
His defrauded employers couldn't want
their bonds more than I wanted Sigismund
Hannay and the 500 which depended on
his capture. I slept at last, to dream that I
had captured him pn an iceberg in the
Polar seas, and I woke- shivering, to find
that my struggles with the visionary culprit
had ended in my kicking off my bed-clothes,
which accounted for the Arctic regions.
X used to go down to the head office to see
what was doing occasionally, and among
the many photos of the wanted ones I again
saw the comely feature! of Sigismund Han
nay. I gazed on his face with rapt atten-
Stewart means a double-bedded room.
tion ; in my mind's eye I filled in the details
winch the photo failed to give the chest
not hair, the bine eyes. "I shall know you
wben I &f e you, mv friend," said I to my
self, Stay, there was a something almost
familiar about the photograph a something
that seemed familiar; but I said to myself
that I had so often looked with longing
eves at this photograph that it doubtless
seemed an old acquaintance. No, Sigis
mund Hannay had surely ere this cleared
out of England; doubtless the United States
the longed-for bourne of the hunted En
glish criminal had been reached, and Sigis
mund Hannay and his bonds were beyond
even the long arm of the London police.
Next evening Stewart came in again.
We played a rubber, Annie and I against
the two old men, then we sat down to sup
per. After supper Stewart told us that he
had found the owner of the locket "And
he's a mean hound, is 'the Winker;' hesaya
he'll give half a crown for it, and it's worth
a crown to melt, isn't it, sergeant?" said he,
tossing it across the table to me.
'Til get you more than a crown for it,"
said. "It's worth three half-crowns as old
silver; why it's thick and heavy very
heavy."
"Keep it, and see what you can get for it,
sergeant," said Stewart "He's a mean
hound: I wouldn't care if it was one of the
other boarders, poor chaps, they haven't any
cash save an odd shilling or so, while 'the
Winker,' he's piles, piles; notes, too, as I'm
a living man! What did I tell you? there's
a screw loose somewhere, Day; there's some
game on. When did you ever see a boarder,
Jack Day, with his pocketbook full of
notes? notes, Jack. When did you ever
see a boarder as slep' his first night alone?
Alone, Jack Day!" cried the excited man.
'Whvdo you call him 'the Winker,'
Stewart?" I asked.
"It's a rule we have; none of theioard
ers' names are ever mentioned off the premi
ses; it's a fine five bob:"
"But what is his name?" said I.
"Hoffmann," said Stewart
"Stewart!" cried old Day.
"Well," apologized Stewart, "the ser
geant is one of us, or nearly so; but as for
the Winker' "
"You haven't told me why you call him
'the Winker.' " persisted L
"Because he was always a-winking the
day he came in; he seldom does it now, only
when he's riled; he did wink, though, over
the old locket; he made an awful fuss over
it, and the 'prop' says it must be found.
Found be hanged, say I; that Winker is a
mean hound.'
By this time Stewart had had quite
enough; he bade us goodnight and went
away.
I forgot the locket next day. When at
the Scotland Yard office I felt it in my
pocket, and I remembered that I had prom
ised to ascertain its value. I opened it out
of curiosity; there was the old lady a fine
old lady; there was the youth a handsome
youth. I was going to close the locket.
Stay, there is something familiar about that
handsome face, that curly chestnut hair,
those blue eyes can it be ? My hand
closes on the locket with a convulsive
clutch, I feel faint like and sit down. Then
I walk up to the portraits of the 'Wanted.'
There they are the hang-dog, villainous
men, the low-browed, scowling women, thief
and ruffian written on all their faces. From
all stands out in smiling comeliness Sigis
mund Hannay, the bright young German.
It is very like him! it is-it must be hel
Taken, perhaps, some years ago, the boy of
the locket would become the celebrity ot the
criminal portrait gallery.
I returned home and carefully examined
the locket; I took out the likenesses; both
were cut from ordinary cartes de visite and
colored; on the back of the youth's is the
photographer's address Sachsen (Saxony).
It is almost enough. I carefully replace
them and close the locket with a snap. H.
S. on the nameplatc, why not S. H.? They
are merely intertwined letters. It is enough!
I have found him!
CHAPIEB II.
I said I had found him. I thought I had,
but between seeing the clew, or rather think
ing you see it, and catching yonr man, there
is a great distance. Here is the position, if
my theory is correct Sigismund Hannay,
under the alias of Mr. Hoffmann, is i near-
A Remarkable Discovery.
cerated under false pretenses, to which he
is probably a consenting party, in Selby
House.
Who are his accomplices? All the sane
inhabitants of Selby House? That is un
likely, with a reward of 500 on his head.
It is some years ago that the occurrences I
am narrating happened. Now, Sigismund
Hannay would have smiled on the British
public irom a board outside every police
station. Then the only portrait of Sigis
mund Hannay was that in the office in Scot
land Yard and perhaps the one in the
locket in my hand. Consequently, the
keepers in Selby House need not be the ac
complices of Sigismund Hannay. There re
main the resident proprietor and the doctor.
I remembered Stewart's saying "the doctor
and the 'prop' had words about him the
other day." Then his banknotes. Who
ever heard of a lunatic with banknotes, ex
cept, perhaps, those of the Bank of Ele
gance? But then, if he had these notes and
the piles of money Stewart talked ot, why
didn't he offer more for the old locket he
wanted back, and that the proprietor had
said must be found?
He was afraid to offer much, and so at
tract attention to himself.
If he were insane, why, when Stewart put
him in a double-bedded room, as was the
custom at Selby House, did he sleep
alone? If he were a sane man,
and it seemed . Stewart had no
doubt of it, why didn't he try to escape? Be
cause he didn't want to. The only person,
then, really in the secret, might be the pro
prietor, the doctor being merely mystified,
and possibly in doubt; for Sigismund Han
nay, if it were he, could only have been
placed in the asylum on the certificate of
two medical men and a friend or relative.
Were the two medical men and the friend
or relative accomplices? Not necessarily;
Sigismund Hannay might have deceived
them; he might have shammed mad. Or
though this was an unlikely theory Sigis
mund Hanny, incarcerated as Hoffmann,
might be really mad. Or, Hoffmann might
not be Hannay at all. Alas! a very possi
ble solntion.
But then, the nickname "the Winker."
"Why did Hannay or Hoffmann wiuk con
tinually the first day, or rather evening, ot
his arrival at Selby House? If insane and
Hoffman, because he was under great ex
citement at his incarceration. If sanejand
Hannay, because he was excited at the
thought of pursuit, or leared the other in
mates a very natural fear. "Why did the
winking pass off? In either case, because
the excitement had ceased. Why did it sud
denly return on the loss of the locket? Be
cause again there was cause for excitement
Did "the Winker," Hannay or Hoffmann,
as the case might be, wink with his right
eye, his left eye, or both? Only to be de
termined by.seeing him wink. It would not
do to arouse Stewart's suspicions by more
questions. If he drops his right eyelid, he
is probably, or rather possibly, Hannay; if
the left or both, certainly not. How to as
certain? Only by seeing him.
How to see him?
Only by entering Selby House. I cogi
tated. If X attempted an entrance by
stratagem or rose, and were detected as an
impostor the first time, there could be no
second attempt Weighing all these things
in my miud, hurriedly I am afraid, for the
iear was ever before me thatven were my
theory right that Hoffmann was Sigismund
' " ' i " ft? -" '
Hannay, hidden in Selby House by soma
artful conspiracy, yet I might not be first in
the field. Stewart might see the advertise
ment, and might guess, as I had done, that
Hanoay was the supposed lunatic. Time
then pressed. Stewart, might at any time
five information and forestall me; that he
ad suspicions of foul play of some sort I
was certain. I must act at once. I went
into Inspector Roberts' office, I saw him,
alone. I asked for a week's leave I, who
had never taken a day, save when on two
occasions off duty on account of health.
"Your application can go in," said he.
I demurred. I wanted it then, that mo
ment "Is it a family bereavement?"
"No, not a bereavement"
"Quite impossible, then; against all
rules,"
"Inspector, I may lose my sweetheart if
you don't give it me," said L
"Speak plainly, my man; if I can Btrain a
point I will, but speak plainly."
I did not hesitate. I told him of Day's
bargain with me, and here my voice sank
to a whisper "I think I have a clew to
him," I said, and I pointed to the bill offer
ing 500 for Hannay,. which was fastened
with others by tin tacks' to the wall behind
the inspector. '
"Sergeant Dryland," said the inspector,
"this is no matter for trifling. Are you
quite serious?"
I assured him of my seriousness.
"You are a young and comparatively in
experienced officer," said the inspector; "I
A Satisfactory Interview With the Doctor.
will associate someone with you
stretched his hand toward his bell.
He
"Inspector Roberts!" I said, with a gasp,
"I shonld lose the reward aud I honestly
believe lean put my hand on Sigismund
Hannay in 48 hours."
The Inspector paused. "It's a great re
sponsibility, Sergeant Dryland," said he,
a great responsibility. I'm an Inspector
of police, but I feel for you don't disap
point me," he said. As he spoke he raised
the lid ot his desk, and without a word he
E laced in my hands a pair of light steel
andcuffs.
"On my own responsibility," he said, "I
give you 60 hours' leave, Sergeant Dryland.
Don't don't dissapoint me." I thanked
him, and putting the handcuffs in my
pocket, left his office.
As I walked down the stairs I felt that
the Inspector had trusted me. and that I
must not abuse his confidence. Unless I suc
ceeded in clapping those neat handcuffs of
his on Sigismund Hannay. I never could
bold up my head again. The die was cast,
and I had staked my all upon the throw.
I reconnoitered Selby House; it was in
Chelsea a high wall nothing remarkable
a big, old-iashioned house; on the
door was a very small plate, Mr.
Blank, the proprietor's name. Another
smaller door at the side of the house with a
bell-handle and the old-fashioned bell in an
iron cage, as was once common in big
suburban houses; on this door was written
in staring white letters, "Servants' en
trance." In the door was a small grating
with an inner shutter. I rang the bell; the
shutter opened; I saw the face of an old
man. "Can I see Mr. Stewart, an attendant
here?"
"What's your business?"
"Merely a friendly call; name ofDryland,
please."
"I'll see."
The shutter closed with a snap. I waited
patiently five minutes, ten minutes; as I
raised my hand, my patience being ex
hausted, to ring the bell a second time, the
door noiselessly and suddenly opened, and
Stewart, bareheaded, stood before me.
"Nothing wrong, I hope," said he, hold
ing the handle of the door in his hand;
"nottung wrong, x nope
"No, nothing with them at Hoxton
nothing. Can you give me a lew
minutes?"
"Step inside," said he. "I can't leave
the house; I'm on duty."
Nothing could have happened more op
portunely if I had planned it; Stewart had
evidently no suspicion of me.
"Take a seaV said he, pointing to a
bench just inside the door. We were in a
small flagged courtyard, half of which was
covered with a roof of corrugated iron;
three sides a dead wall evidently the back
of Shelby House; two windows only on the
ground floor. These were heavily barred as
is usual with the basement windows of large
houses; they were evidently the kitchens.
The smell of cooking came from the half
opened windows; the bustle of active work,
and the clatter of crockery could be heard.
"Busy place," said L
"Boarders' dinner," said he.
"You feed them well," said I, as a most
appetizing display was carefully arranged
on a small tray by a kitchen maid. Plated
entree dish, two vegetables, roll and butter,
and a pint bottle ot claret
"Winker's lunch," he said. "I must
take it up. Wait for me."
I nodded, and compoied myself comforta
bly on the bench. Just as Stewart was
about to enter the kitchen door, a surly
looking young man, with the appearance of
a gentleman's servant, and carrying a carpet-bag,
entered the courtyard, followed by
an old man in a striped jacket the
old man who had asked my "business
at the grating in the door; he was about to
open the outer door; he held a bunch of
keys doubtless the hall porter.
'Going, Randall?" said Stewart, turning
to the surly-looking-young man.
"Yes, Mr. Stewart, I'm off, and glad of
it."
"Better Inck next time, Eandall," said
Stewartnhnrrying in "goodby."
They nodded, and the surly-looking
young'man and his carpet bag disappeared
into me street.
The porter looked at his watch and gave
a yawn, then he sniffed the balmy 'odors of
tho kitchen, sat down bv me and gave a
sigh. "Friend of Stewart's?" said he.
I nodded.
"In our line?" he added, 'looking me
over.
"No such luck," I replied; "they didn't
feed us in my late business."
"What was tbat?" said he, carelessly.
"Police," said L
"Lett it long?" said he.
"This very morning; an hour ago."
''Um," grunted the porter, stretching his
legs, "he was in it Randall was. before he
came to us."
"What! the young chap just gone out?"
"Yes, bad-tempered chap; couldn't keep
his temper with the boarders sack," he
said, laconically.
"What's the screw?" said J.
"Varies," said he. "A pound to begin
ners, and found three square meals a day;
but we only recruit steady men."
"I suppose so," said I.
Here we subsided into meditation. How
was I to see the man Hoffmann?" I was as
far from my goal as ever. Hoffmann, alias
"the Winker," might be really a lunatic,
or he might not be Hannay. A sight of him
would be enough for me; but how to get a
sight of him? Why had I told the porter
that I had left the police that morning?
Because I hoped to replace Randall, if only
for a few hours, and so to see, if but for an
instant, the man called Hoffmann. Doubt
less if I suggested my being engaged at
Selby House they would be suspicious; the
suggestion must come from them. From
the porter why not? or from Stewart?
This nad been my course ofjreasoning; there
was no other way of getting a sight of Hoff
mann. If he were Hannay he would not
stir out of 8elby House- if he were a lunatio
he could not stir out; in any case, to see
him one must get inside this seemed the
only way of getting inside,
B'ut I was not aware of one thing; the
rules imposed upon the keepers of licensed
honses, as the proprietors of lunatio asylums
are termed, are very strict No keeper or
attendant con be employed without a license
from the Commissioners in Lunacy. I was
unprovided with such a license; to obtain it
I must really leave the police force, get a
reference from my superiors, lose my
chances of promotion and pension, and,
perhaps nay, probably, after all these
arrangements, find out that Hoffman was
not Hannay at all.
Stewart returned; he drew a pipe from
his pocket "I've got justa quarter of an
hour off, Dryland," he said, as he carefully
filled and lighted it "You look dull, my
man. Whatisit?"
I told him the tale Ihad told tho porter.
I clothed my naked lie in the details of
probability; to my great relief he believed
me; he did more, he sympathized with me.
"So you left rather than be put upon,"
said he. "I'd have done the same."
'You wouldn't have liked to have seen a
younger man put over your head, would
you?" said I, with, as I trusted, tho air of
a deeply injured man.
"No! I shouldn't, you showed a proper
spirit;" here he began to smoke reflectively.
The porter, who, though hungry, was a
sympathiser, too, here broke in, "What are
von going to do?"
"I haven't an idea," I said.
"How about references?" said Stewart
"Ob, they are right. I resigned; I wasn't
dismissed."
"Would you like our line?" said Stewart
"I shouldn't mind," said L
"Stay where you are," said he. rising
hurriedly; "I think I tave a billet you
might drop into at once.'
"Here?" said L
Yes, here."
He left us; after a few moments a bell
rang, the porter, with a nod and a smile to
me, went indoors evidently the servants'
dinner bell Things were looking up; I
should be surely engaged, Stewart would
speak for me.and I should see see whom?
well,perhaps,SigismundHannay?Butarrest
him if it were he that wasanother matter;
let me but see him, I asked for no more.
Stewart returned. "Step this way," said
he. I went through a series of well
appointed offices, then into what was the
front hall; there were no bolts or bars,
everything very solid, very good; an old
house, a fine old house, a big wooden stair
case at the end of the ball, at the foot of the
staircase was a green baize door. Stewart
tapped lightly "Come in I "we entered.
Stewart saluted. "This is James Dry
land, sir."
A dark little man, dressed in shining
black, looked at me with a furtive glance
it was the criminal look there was no mis
taking it; he dropped his eyelids with a
High, and he never looked me straight in the
ace again.
"You wish to serve here? " he said softly.
"I shonld be glad to, sir."
"You are aware of the duties ? You can
keep your temper under provocation even
extreme provocation l
"As, sir."
"That will do. He will have to attend
at the Commissioners' office. When he has
got the necessary papers he can come, say in
three days. Explain it to him, Stewart
That will do."
"Is that all. sir?"
"That is all." The furtive eye dropped
on the big acconnt book open before him.the
white hand followed the columns of figures,
he had ceased to be aware of our existence.
We left the room. Stewart congratulated
me, and while he explained to ms the steps
I must take, the hope of getting a look at
the man, Hoffmann, died within me. How
could I resign on the chance of his being
Hannay?
"Look round in the evening, at 9, and
we can take a glass," said Stewart, "and I'll
tell you all about it, and put you up to the
ropes."
I thanked Stewart effusively, and prom
ising to call for him at 9, took my leave. I
dined at a coffee house, I sat and thought it
over. Yes, I was as far off as ever; If I was
The Arrest in the Hack.
ever to see the man, I must see him, must
arrest him in 50 hours; ten hours were gone.
This thought came vividly to my mind as I
put my band in my pocket for my handker
chief and touched the inspector s superior
pair of special handcuffs. How many
guilty wrists had they not clasped?
Were they ever destined to be
clasped over those of Sigismund Han
nay? My spirits sank; 1 felt that on
handing back those natty handcuffa, unused,
to my inspector, the next step would be to
go into the sergeants' room and write my
resignation. I took an aimless walk. Five
minutes to nine. I walked again round
Shelby House a large place, windows
mostly lighted up, 'patients retiring for the
night, as I knew. Nine. I let a minnte
or two elapse, then I rang the bell, and was
admitted bv the porter; he stretched out his
hand in a friendly way.
"I hear you are to be one of us," said he.
"I fancy so," X replied.
Stewart, ready for walking, entered the
courtyard; several men of respectable ap
pearance accompanied him.
"We're all free till 11, Dryland," said
Stewart, Jntroducing them to me by a wave
of the hand. "New attendant," said he;
"late of the police."
I drew myself up. They all shook hands
with me, and all seemed friendly. No
chance to see him to-night, evidently. The
porter advanced to let us out when sud
denly a shont broke from the interior of the
building "Firej"
We looked at each other. The kitchen
door was flung open, one of the kitchen
maids, pale as ashes, rushed out into onr
midst as we stood in the little courtyard.
"Fire!" she shrieked. "Fire! in the ground
floor corridorl" .
There was no hesitation; each man pushed
rapidly through the kitchen door, Stewart
among the rest "Come on," he said, "you
can be of use here."
The place was old and fnlfof wood; there
were no hydrants, there was no water. I
smelt the smoke already, as I followed close
at Stewart's heels. We ran all together in
a body to a door; Stewart opened it a long
passage half full of smpke, not a soul visi
ble; shrieks and shouts were heard; "This
way! this way!" We passed through an
open door into a bare graveled yard; there
stood a young man, "his lace very pale, his
hands terribly burnt, his hair, whiskers and
evebrows singed.
""They are all safe all safe I think, but
we can't count them, they will move about,
it is impossible," said the young man. This
was the doctor; he was not excited, lar from
it his wits were about him. Here my police
education came to my aid; my practiced
eye ran quickly over the half-dressed pa
tients. "There are 48, sir," I said.
"Who are yon. man?" said the doctor, ap
parently alarmed. ,
"New attendant engaged this morning,
sir joins in a day or two," chimed in
Stewart; "ex-policeman."
"Are yon sure, man,"" said the doctor,
"only 48?"
"Only 48, sir."
"Men," said he, to the attendants, "do
you miss any one?"
They all ran their eves over 'the confused'
moo. .- rf-As ,---
. p jRi
.ffjBK.1
"Mr. Hoffmann is not here, sir." said
Stewart
"Heavens! it's true," cried the doctor.
Stewart turned pale. "He's my case,
sir," he groaned,"andIt he's lost, I'm a
ruined man."
"Come on, Dryland," he said to me, and,
following him, I re-entered the house.
A huge alarm bell now began to ring, the.
names which had got well hold of the build
ing began to light up the sky. I saw that
as we rushed into the house again.
"This way," muttered Stewart. We flew
up the staircase; at the top ot it we met the
proprietor. "Are they all out?" he
Rcrpflinpfi
"All but Mr. Hoffmann, sir."
"Great heavens!" he cried, but he made
no attempt to move. -The firing of his prem
ises had evidently unnerved him; he cov
ered his face with his hands. On ran Stew
art; he stopped at a closed door at the end
of a long passage, 14 was painted in small
white figures on it; there was a circular
piece of brass in the middle of the door, bnt
the door was locked. Stewart felt in his
pockets for the key.
"I must go back for it," hesaid. "Come."
"I will stay here," I said.
Stewart did not reply; ho ran. hurriedly
off by the way he came.
I examined the door, hoping to force it
No, it was too strong. I raised the small
round piece of brass; a circular peephole,
glazed, came to my view. I could see into
the room: the chamber candle was lighted,
a man with his back to me lay upon the bid,
a novel was on the coverlet, he had fallen
asleep reading; the candle placed on a chair
illuminated his curly chestnut hair. Bnt I
could not see his face. His was the end
room of the corridor. A window with a
light sasn was at this end, on either side
closed doors; at the other end the staircase.
I hammered furiously on the door.
"Fire!" I cried, "Fire!" I kicked, I
battered at it, I rushed from the
other side of the passage at it;
it was too strong for me. I looked in once
more; the man was awake, he turned to me.
it was the face as I verily believed of Sigis
mund Hannay. "Fire! Fire!" I shouted,
my eye still at the peephole; the handsome
face turned pale. The right eye began to
blink. "The Winker," alias Sigismund
Hannay, was before me; there was no doubt
I rushed to the head of the staircase; it was
in flames in flames. Everything had
turned pink. This was. why Stewart did
not return; there was no other exit
Stay, the window at the end of the pass
age! I rushed to it, I broke a pane; the
sash was steel, solid steel; the apparently
light window was a grating of the strongest
kind.
"Have you nothing to try and break the
door with, Mr. Hoflmann?"cried I; he was
already dressed.
"Himmel!" he cried, "I have nothing to
try with." He spoke with a slight German
accent
We shonld be burnt alive together. I and
my prey, the prey I was cheated of,
only to die slowly by fire. I heard
a cheer; something struck the win
dow. A moment after, a form was on
the sill, then a second two firemen one
plied an ax, the other a crowbar, they
worked rapidly and scientifically. Crash!
The steel window frame fell inward, the two
men sprang in.
"In here," I cried; "he's in here."
"What, one of the madmen?"
"Yes, the last one."
"Is he very bad? Is there much danger in
him?" repeated the man the brave man,
who was ready at a moment's notice to risk
his life amid fire and flame and lolling walls
for a paltry stipend.
"Get the door open and I'll secure him,"
said l.
A few strokes on the door-jamb with his
sharp ax, and the long crowbar of the sees
ond man is inserted; the door yields, it
opens. Hoffman rushed into my arms, the
men stood back, in an instant I had the
handcuffs on him.
"What does this violence mean?" he
hissed, winking furiously with his right eye
in nervous trepidation." ,
"They are afraid of you, that's all, sir. I
told them there was no need."
"Be smart! Be smartl" cried the fireman
nearest me. I helped Hoffman to the win
dow. The crowd below, on seeing us, cheered
loudly. "Go first," said the firman. I knew
the escapes, I stepped lightly into the can
vas slide; in an instant I was in the
street, a hundred eager hands were stretched
to grasp mine. In another instant Hoff
mann, handcuffed, slid down the canvas
trough, and was beside me. The crowd
stood back.
"One of the lunatics; see his handcuffs
he's dangerous stand back!" X hustled
the bewildered Hoffmann through the
crowd. A hansom stood at a near corner.
We got in; Hoffman, more dead than alive,
sank into the corner ot the cab. I whispered
to the cabman where io drive, and toot, my
piace Dy tne snuaaenng xtonmann,
"Where are we going?" said he.
"To another asylum," said L
"Take these things off," said he.
"I can't just yet,"saidL
"Can't! What do you mean?"
I placed one hand on his shoulder, the
other pn his fettered wrists, and I whispered
in his ear, "Sigismund Hannay, I arrest you
for felony take it coolly, sir."
"Himmell" he muttered not a word
more.
We got to Scotland Yard. I took him
into the office of the inspector on duty; it
was Inspector Roberts. 1 charged him. He
acknowledgedit all. As he did bo his right
eye never left off its winking; Sigismund
Hannay and "the Winker" were one.
Stewart never lorgave me. we never
found out how Hannay had squared the
proprietor of the asylum it was all hushed
up. The proprietor was burnt to death in
the blazing staircase of Selby House. Poor
fellow, he lost his head in his ruin, for the
property was uninsured.
Sigismund Hannay pleaded gulltr; he got
14 years most of the bonds were gbt back.
I had a good bit out of it, one way and the
other.
Yes, these are the identical handcuffs;
Inspector Roberts gave me them as a keep
sake. BOBBERIES OS EUSSIAN EAILWAIS.
A Band of Robbers Wbo Do Oatlness In a
Iiarge Way.
St. Petersburg Letter. I
For the last three or four weeks the Rus
sian papers have almost daily contained ac
counts of robberies and other crimes com
mitted on railways, and most of them are of
such a character that it seems difficult to
think tbey could have been committed with
out the cognizance of some of the railway
servants. Thus, only a couple of days ago,
it was discovered at Berditcbeif, a station
on the Great Southwestern Bailway,
that an entire consignment of steel rails had
completely disappeared! All that the police
succeeded in learning was that a certain
Hebrew, who some weeks ago had left Russia
for the "United States with a large fortune,
was probably the chief of. the band who had
operated on this and many other occasions.
Again, some days ago the m&il train run
ning between Waldikaukas and Bostov was
attacked at the station of Mirskarra by five
armed men, who killed the cashier and car
ried off 250,000 roubles.and at the same time
injured several attendants and passengers.
Epltnpu on a Faded Eoit.
Sweet memory ot a hope that died
'Mid storms of sorrow sobbing,
Til lay tby fading form beside
Abeartassadf) tbrobbing
With pain and agonj ungueased
As ever mortal bosom
Bore through a night of wild unrest
Tliou sacred little blossom!
Thou earnest with a joy now born,
A gleam of heavenly glory.
And when One warned me ot a thorn
I needed noc tbe storr:
Anderennow, though I be wrong,
I sit here wondering, grieving,
Tbat lips which sane sosweot a song
Should prove so unforgivingi
But thou shalt rest above my heart.
Each petal pile I treasure.
Fontetting all tbe wounds that smart
For that brief boar of pleasure.
Bezardless of tbe thorns that tear
II y soul and pierce and sever.
For her dear memory's sake I'll bear
Thee on mt breast tereverl
Montgomery JCfoltom in AUanta Conttltu
WW. 4
" TirMUtttiTMSOFIKMl.'
Same Krrwwm Idea CoaeeratBf Tticn
Corrected.
At the last meeting of the Bombay Nat
ural History Society Mr. Gilbert, a well
known shikaree, read a paper on man-eating
tigers, of which a brief report is given in the
London Times. He says that the popular
idea of the man-eater is wholly incorrect He
is commonly supposed to be "an old brute,
more often decrepit than otherwise, perhaps
lamed from some former wound, with his
teeth broken, his skin always mangy, un A
able from his infirmities to kill game, but
obliged to conceal himself near a Tillage-
path and then to pounce upon some lonely
human being and devour him, never attack
ing when there are more than two or three
persons together! and always displaying
great cunning."
Sir William Hunter takes this view, and
describes the man-eater as generally an old
beast, disabled from overtaking his usual
prey, and who seems to accumulate his tale
of victims in sheer cruelty rather than for
food. Sir William Hunter mentions a man
eater who was known to have killed 108
people In three years, and another which
killed an average of 80 persons a year for
the same period. A third 'caused 13 vil
lages to be abandoned and 250 square miles
of land to be thrown out of cultivation. A
fourth killed 127 persons in a year and
stopped a public road for many weeks.
Mr. Gilbert, however, says that these,
views as to the man-eater are quite erro
neous. They are not different from the or
dinary tiger, which lives on game and bul
locks, but he does not say why they become
man-eaters. Sir Joseph Fayrer suggests
that it is by the accident of having once
tasted human flesh and then finding all
other flesh insipid.
Mr. Gilbert mentions certain famous
man-eaters. One, a tigress in the Nagpur
district, has a fondness for the employes of
the -Bengal-Nagpur Eailway, frequents a
tract of country only abont nine
square miles lu area, and is pos
sessed of extraordinary cunning and
audacity. This year, up to June, she had
killed seven people, besides wounding others.
She lives in a rocky and precipitous spur,
in which there is a heavy bamboo and other
jungle. Several springs of water rise at the
foot of the scarps, and there is a cave
which shows many signs of being used
by her and her family. A big stone
just outside the entrance is scored deep
and long with many scratches of their
claws. In February last, in broad daylight,
she carried off one of a gang of permanent
way men from under the eyes of his com
panions. She had been shot at many times
and her cubs killed, but she has got off
scatheless. Sometimes the man-eater trav
erses long distances. Thus the Jaunsar
man-eater, which was killed by an officer of
the forest department after killing a man
in one place would kill another 20 miles off
the next night This one, also a tigress,
frequented a belt of the Himalayas 5,000 to
10,000 feet high, and was eventually killed
8,000 ieet above the" sea. But none of the
man-eaters recorded by Mr. Gilbert were de
crepit or -worn out They wera strong,
handsome beasts in their prime.
HEW ZEALAND PAEE0IS.
Birds Tbat Will be Killed Katfaer Tkaa
Desert Woaadcd Companions.
Nature.
We shot abont a dozen birds and were
about to leave the wood when I saw a large
brown bird flying through the tree tops and
cut him down with a snap shot among the
branches. He only had a broken wing and
at once set up a great squawking like a
frightened parrot I was about to go and
finish him when my host bade me wait, con
cealed under cover of a small tree; I noticed
Blank tub to ambush, and wondered why
for a moment, when I beard cries similar
to those uttered by the wounded bird pro
ceeding from all parts of the forest and soon
the air was literally filled with birds. We
began shooting them as they circled around
the trees,evidentiy tiying to come to the aid
of their companion.
We had soon fired away about 100 cart
ridges, and had the ground strewn with
birds which Blank said were ber-caw-caws.
They were like large bronze pheasants in
size and shape, with hooked bills and long
tails. They are members of the parrot fam
ily, are to be foand on the North Island of
New Zealand in great quantities, and can
be easily killed if one can be wounded, as
the flock will never leave a companion Lu
distress.
HAEDW0EKED WOHZft
ZndastrloBs Girl la Boston Who Held Mere
, Than One Feskloa.
Boston Advertiser.
It must be admitted thatmany of Boston's
working women have little time for rest
Cases where 17 hours of the 24 are employed
in work are not unknown. I am not now
speaking of the miserable slaves who eke
out a scanty existence, bnt of well-dressed,
healthy-looking women who try to increase
their small income by doing extra work. A
case came to my notice of a bookkeeper who
kept the accounts for several firms, balanc
ing up the books of some in the day time
others in the evening. She works an aver
age of 112 hours each week. Another, wbo
was employed as a waitress in a fashionable
cafe and also in a down-town restaurant,
worked, for a time, IS hours each week day,
until she lost one of her positions. There
are many shop girls who work 14 hours
every week day, and are only too happy to
get the opportunity.
GAMBLING WITfl FLIES.
Insects sad Lamp ofSofaraaB Sabstliate
!r Fare.
St Louis Globe-Democrat.)
What do you think of loaf sugar and flies
as a gambling device? "Well, those are the
latest "implements" that have been brought
into nse by a saloonkeeper to evade tbe New
berry law. It seems that everybody is rack
ing their brains now to think up something
to pass away a short leisure time over a
flowing bowl. The latest fad is a more
lucrative game for the saloon man than
dice.
Bach man entering the game is furnished
with a lump of loa? sugar, which he sets
down on the bar and then steps back to
await the pleasure of the fly or flies. Which
evenjump a fly lights on first the holder of
that lump is "stuck" for the game.
- High TenIoa Coorttur.
'vl
:,MhJ
Tom Bat apbilopena with me this morn
ing. Tab? Bwr-r-rang!
Tab With pleasure. Me
m:
" 0---W-W-WlIt
-Pnefctl
KY COUNTET HO'USM
Delights of a Residence AwiySFrony
me uuys anny-Buriy. .
A MODEST BUT ATTEACT17E HOMEf
Large Enough for a Eieh Man and'Eaufl
Enough for a Poor One.
AS AEBONABrS 0PIKI0X OP THE EAmt
rWMTTX TOa IHX DISPATCH.!
John "Wise, the intrepid old aeronaut andt!
quiet philosopher, used to say while sailing'1
through the clouds that he abhorredthej
idea of returning to earth again. LeanlnsrS
over the side of his car, he would declare!
that everything on the surface of the globei
was mean, dirty and insignificant Whenl
passing over a city he would call attenfioBf
to the smoke and dust eaveloninir It Acdttol
the little black ants rushing and crowding
with great but purposeless activity through!
its streets. The little black ants wefa1htj
man Deings. -s33a
viewed from the higher altitude of reasonvjl
Perspective View.
it does seem strange that many intelligent
people prefer to live within the narrow lim
its of a city. Life in the country is broader.
sweeter, purer, freer. City houses no longer
uiuqupuiuB an me conveniences. VYitnessj
the modest, though attractive design ofjsfi
country nousesu omitted herewith.
A MODEL COUNTET HOUSE.
Size of structure Width (front), Si feet?!
uepin, ox ieet o inenes. jt
Height of stories Cellar, 7 feetr "firstfe
story, 9 feet 6 inches; second story, 8 leetlOJ
wwV0, HHJV, ICG. U 1UU1IC9. ( v '
Materials lor exterior walls Foundational
stone and brick; first story, clapboards: seeJt
ond story, shingles; gables, shinglesand
Interior finish Hard white -nlaitF
throughout: piaster comics and mnWiiiSTj
hall, parlor, sitting and dining rorm; oak trinil
in usui ana awing room; ueorgia pins trim .
in second story, white nine in remainder of--
house; main stairs, oak; mantels to cost 80;
Miucu ios3 u auiixcase wiuqow. House -
piped for gas. '
Exterior colors All clapboards, light4
urawn; trim water taoie, corner boards,'
casing, cornices, oanas, veranaa posts and
First Moot.
rails, dark seal brown; front door finished
with hard oil, all other outer doors and out-J
siae oiinas paintea oarK seat crown; ruoj
water conductors, dark seal brownr gables,!
dark buff with dark seal brown panels:
sashesjdsrkbuff; veranda floors.dark brown;
veranda ceiling-, varnished natural color:
panel work in first and second stories, dark '
seal brown for stiles and Tails, and light9"
brown for panels; side wall shingles, bnff;.t
roof shingles, dart Drown. Alt angles .
should be dinned is stain before laving and :
have a good brush, coat applied after laying. - ;
ACCOintODATIOSS.
The principal rooms and their sEwsft
closets, etc.. are shown by the floor plu
printed herewith; beside these there are'twel
rooms and a ball finished in the attlcasd!
there is a cellar under the whole hoasc'Thai
combination of front and btck fairs;
economizes space. There is a coat aadhat.
closet in the hall and a closet containing a 1
tionary tubs and sink in the kitchen and a
large pantry adjoining. The lobby entrancal
1
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Jn4RMA
Jae5o2S
tteZlp
."i- co
BASm
seox
Jtife.
MI
(cSixxz6
!-
fisjfesRV
6CVv.te.
Second Moor.
to the kitchen from the back porch. fcaafa
recess Jor an ice-box. By isclostsrftl
balcony with netting an open air resort ikl
provided that will be proof againrf ;
qnitoes and other insects.
Snecial features An attracil'je ;StdJ
roomy house, large enough for a sac Jest risk
man ana small enougn for an t mettle!)
poor man who intends to become rclt.
Cost Built as described, for attfjocalitl
where prices for materials and labor's!
about the same as those of N ew i ork, $3,3
uuir wiui onu. wua in piocvox ir
S4.000-. Those wbo are interested in
architectural designs should compare!
estimates with the estimate are frivSf
for many other published' digns. , '"151
vanaulT it wiH be found tst lot dctigc-t
equal dimensions our etMraaiM? knM:
siderably higher. The explMia k vtat
mack of this kind of-worki deehvtvS1
who depend on imitation' tor thw Atetpt
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