But four days remained before the _fete_, when I was delighted by

receiving a letter from the Secretary of State for Peru, giving full

particulars of the forgeries and frauds committed by Don Juan Sanchez in

that country, and enclosing a fine portrait of the man. One glance at

the picture was sufficient to assure me of the identity of Don Pedro P.

L. de Morito with Don Juan Sanchez, and I now felt ready to act. The

letter informed me that a Peruvian official would be dispatched to

Gloster at once, to obtain the arrest of Don Pedro, though there were a

great many difficulties in the way, owing to the lack of an extradition

treaty. Every effort would be made, however, to bring him to justice,

and the Peruvian Minister at Washington would be instructed to confer

with me.

I informed Senator Muirhead and Judge Key of this news, and they were

both much encouraged at the prospect, especially as we learned that a

Peruvian man-of-war had arrived in New York from Aspinwall, it being

doubtless intended that this vessel should take the prisoner to Peru, in

case he could be frightened into surrendering himself.

The _fete_ was to take place on Wednesday, if the weather should be

favorable, or on the first pleasant day thereafter, and everything was

already in complete order for the grand occasion. A large and elegant

steamer had been chartered to convey the guests to the island, and she

was to make several trips during the day for the convenience of business

men who could not go early. There remained nothing further to be done,

except to pray for fine weather on the important day.

On Monday morning I was told that two gentlemen were waiting to see me,

on very important business, at one of the leading hotels. I accompanied

the messenger, and was at once shown to the room of the Peruvian

Minister, who was accompanied by the Peruvian Consul at New York. Before

proceeding to business, I informed the Minister that I was acting under

the instructions of Senator Muirhead, and that I should like to send for

that gentleman, and for my legal adviser, Judge Key. The Peruvian

officials made no objection, and both Judge Key and the Senator were

soon with us, ready for consultation. As the new arrivals were tired and

dusty after their long journey, we merely exchanged information relative

to Don Pedro, and agreed to meet at ten o'clock next morning, to make

plans for his arrest.

At the appointed hour, we were all prompt in arriving at the parlor of

the Minister. The latter and the Consul, in accordance with a suggestion

I had made the day previous, had not mentioned their official rank to

any one, and had remained as secluded as possible, in order to prevent

Morito from knowing of their arrival in the city.

The Minister stated that the forgeries of Don Juan Sanchez in Peru had

been so enormous, amounting to more than seven hundred thousand dollars,

that the government had taken up the pursuit of the criminal with

unusual zeal, and no effort nor expense would be spared to bring him to

justice. Unfortunately, however, in the absence of any extradition

treaty between Peru and the United States, the chances of securing Don

Juan, even now that he had been discovered, were not bright; indeed, the

Minister acknowledged that he saw no way of accomplishing it.

"By an appeal to law," said Judge Key, "nothing _can_ be gained; but it

is possible that my friend, Mr. Pinkerton, may have a plan which will

induce Don Pedro, as he now calls himself, to surrender voluntarily

rather than stand trial here or in Great Britain. Let us hear your

opinion, then, Mr. Pinkerton."

"Well, gentlemen," I replied, "this is a case where the greatest care

must be exercised, for the criminal is a bold, skillful man, of good

education and address, with, probably, a fair knowledge of his legal

rights. We cannot afford to make any mistakes, for he would surely take

advantage of them. We must, therefore, present the case to him in such a

way that he will believe it to be to his interest to give himself up.

The presence of the Peruvian man-of-war in New York is very fortunate,

for, once under her flag, he cannot escape; but he must be induced to go

on board voluntarily, or else we shall be liable to the charge of

kidnapping."

I then explained the method by which he had had swindled the citizens of

Gloster, and showed how difficult it would be to convict him of

anything, owing to the probability that his victims would refuse to

testify against him; besides, for obtaining money under false pretenses,

a short imprisonment only could be inflicted, and then he would be free

to go where he pleased.

"However," I continued, "I think I can present to him his position in

such a light that he will regard a surrender to the Peruvian authorities

as preferable to a long trial and detention here, with the possibility

of being sent to California or Great Britain for trial on a more serious

charge. When he knows that we are fully acquainted with his past

career, he may be willing to accept our terms rather than to defy us."

"Suppose, however," said the Minister, "that he should refuse all terms,

and determine to fight it out?"

"In that case," I replied, "we should be obliged to arrest him here for

obtaining money under false pretenses, and be prepared to arrest him

again the moment he should be set free, repeating the operation as often

as we could get different victims to enter complaint against him. The

number of stockholders in this bogus company is quite large, so that we

could easily hold him until a requisition could be obtained from

California or England."

"How large a sum has he in his possession now?" asked the Consul.

"About half a million dollars," replied the Senator.

"Well," said the Consul, "that sum will go far toward reimbursing the

people whom he swindled in Peru, so I think that Mr. Pinkerton's plan is

the best that can be adopted. We might induce him to go aboard our

vessel by promising to use our influence to lighten his sentence, in

case he makes restitution to his victims in Peru."

The Consul made these remarks with a wise expression, as if he thought

he had hit upon a very easy way of solving the problem. The Senator,

Judge Key, and I exchanged looks of astonishment and amusement at this

cool proposal to take our citizens' money to reimburse the Peruvians;

it was a case of "robbing Peter to pay Paul" which we could not

appreciate. Finally, I said:

"I presume that there can be no question as to the way to dispose of

this money which Don Pedro has in his possession. Not one penny of it

came from Peru, and we cannot permit any of it to be taken there. On

arriving here Don Pedro had only a few thousand dollars, which he

obtained in England by forgery. This sum he has already used up, and the

only money in his possession has been obtained by the sale of his

fictitious diamond fields in Peru. It would be manifestly unjust to

allow this money to be taken away, and it is our intention to obtain it

at all hazards, whatever may become of the Don."

"Oh! I shall make no such claim, Mr. Pinkerton," said the Minister;

"that was only a suggestion of the Consul, who did not understand

exactly how the money referred to came into this man's hands. All that I

care for is to get Don Pedro on board our vessel, and I shall be pleased

to pay for your services in the matter. We must be careful, however,

that there shall be no opportunity to charge us with kidnapping, for we

wish to avoid any possibility of complications with the United States;

the fellow has made us trouble enough already."

"I will arrange that matter satisfactorily," I replied; "as for the

question of payment, I am acting wholly in the interest of Senator

Muirhead, and under his instructions, so that I can accept nothing

except from him."

We spent an hour or two more in preparing papers and arranging the

details of our plans, the conclusion being that we should make the

arrest that evening, about seven o'clock, when there would be few or no

visitors at Don Pedro's house. As I had supposed, there was no charge

whatever against the Donna, and my only intentions with regard to her

were to see that she did not carry off any of the money belonging to the

Diamond Company stockholders, nor assist the Don to escape. It was

decided to send Don Pedro to New York immediately, in case he yielded to

our terms, and the Donna would be at liberty to go or stay, as she might

see fit.

On returning to my office, I found Bangs and Lesparre awaiting me, and

the latter said that he believed the Don and Donna intended to take

flight immediately after the _fete_. They probably desired to finish

their career in Gloster in a blaze of glory, and, as they would not be

expected to receive visitors for two or three days after the _fete_,

they would have a good start before their departure would become known.

I told Lesparre to see that Madame Sevier and Salter kept a close watch

for the remainder of the day, and in case any attempt should be made to

remove the box containing Don Pedro's coin, he must send Salter to me

instantly with the news. I also suggested that the servants be kept out

of the way that evening, so that no one should know of our visit.

Lesparre departed to attend to his duties, and I remained to complete

the details of my plans with Mr. Bangs, who had arrived from Chicago

with two detectives, in obedience to my summons.

About six o'clock, Senator Muirhead and Judge Key arrived, and a more

nervous man than the former I never saw. In a few minutes the Peruvian

Minister and Consul arrived, and we proceeded in carriages to Don

Pedro's house, the Senator remaining at the hotel, however. We left the

carriages a short distance away, so as not to attract attention, and,

while Mr. Bangs's two men stationed themselves to watch the house, the

rest of my party ascended the steps and were admitted by Salter.

"The family are still at dinner," said Salter, "but they are finishing

the dessert, and I presume Don Pedro will go to the billiard-room after

dinner to smoke, as usual."

"Give him my card as he leaves the dining-room," I said, "and tell him

that I am waiting to see him in the drawing-room."

In a few minutes, Don Pedro and Lesparre rose from the table, and Salter

gave my card to the former.

"Pinkerton! Pinkerton! I don't know any one of that name; do I,

Lesparre?"

"Possibly it may be some gentleman having business with you in

connection with the _fete_," suggested Lesparre.

"Ah! very true; where is he, George? I will see him at once," said the

Don, unsuspectingly.

Salter led the way to the drawing-room, where I alone was waiting, the

rest of the party having waited in the vestibule. As he entered,

followed by Lesparre, I rose and said:

"Juan Sanchez, I arrest you, and you are now my prisoner!" and, so

saying, I put my hand on his shoulder.

He turned very pale, and sat down in the nearest chair, while Lesparre

quickly brought him a glass of water. I then continued:

"Juan Sanchez, or Jose Gomez more properly, we will retire to the

library if you wish, as we may be interrupted here by the arrival of

some of your friends, and I do not wish to expose you at present."

"What do you mean by addressing me in this manner?" he replied, trying

to regain his composure. "My name is neither Sanchez nor Gomez."

"It is a long time since you have been so called," I answered, "but your

victims in Brazil and Peru still retain the names in their memories

without difficulty. I will now present to you the Minister of Peru and

the Peruvian Consul at New York, both of whom have taken a lively

interest in your past life and actions."

Just as I spoke, the Donna and Madame Sevier entered, and the former,

seeing the abject appearance of her husband, asked what was the matter.

"Your husband is a prisoner, madam," I replied; "and as our interview

would be painful to you, I must ask you to withdraw for the present at

least."

She immediately gave an hysterical scream, and sank upon a divan sobbing

frantically. Madame Sevier succeeded in quieting her somewhat, and she

remained on the scene with her face buried in the Madame's lap. I felt

confident that much of her emotion was feigned, and that she was an

attentive listener to all that took place about her; however, I made no

objection, but requested Mr. Bangs, who was watching in the hall, to

admit the Minister and the rest of the party. As Mr. Bangs withdrew, the

Don stepped up to me and said:

"Mr. Pinkerton, I will give you five thousand dollars if you will leave

me alone for half an hour."

I smiled, and looking at my watch, said:

"It is now seven o'clock; at ten o'clock you will be on your way to New

York."

"You can have ten thousand, if you will let me go; I will pay you the

cash in coin immediately."

"Your offers are useless," I replied; "I will let no guilty man escape

if it can be avoided."

As I spoke, the Peruvian Minister, the Consul, and Judge Key entered,

and we proceeded in a body to the library, leaving the Donna in the care

of Madame Sevier. On the way thither, the Don made one more effort to

appear in the _role_ of an injured innocent.

"I don't understand this proceeding at all," he said, "and I claim my

liberty. What authority have you for arresting me in my own house?"

"I _have_ the authority, and that is sufficient," I replied, coolly. "If

you desire to be taken at once to jail, I have no objection to granting

your request; but I thought, perhaps, you might first prefer to hear

what these gentlemen have to say."

I have arrested and have watched a great many criminals, but I have

never seen one who, having carried out such an extensive scheme of

villainy, was so utterly broken down as this man was. I had feared that

his nerve might be firm enough to answer my threats with defiance, and

force me to bring him to trial in Gloster; but I saw that there was no

danger of such a misfortune, and so I stood aside while the Peruvian

Minister addressed him.

"Juan Sanchez," said the Minister, "I have come here to obtain your

removal to Peru, that you may be tried there for your numberless

forgeries in that country. A Peruvian war-ship is now in New York

harbor, and you will be placed on board of her for transportation to

Peru. Mr. Pinkerton's superintendent will proceed with you to-night."

The Don was speechless for a moment, and then, glancing up, he said, in

a sullen voice:

"I want to know what I am charged with, and by what right you send me to

Peru. I am entitled to a hearing, and a lawyer to defend me."

"My friend, Judge Key, who is present, is a most able lawyer," I

replied, "and you can consult with him if you wish advice; but first let

me show you your true position. Your real name, Don Jose Gomez, was

given you in Brazil, where it is remembered only to be cursed; Don Juan

Sanchez was your name in Peru, and your crimes there are also well

known; as Don Jose Michel, there are serious charges against you in San

Francisco; Don Pedro Michel is badly wanted in Quito, where he would

probably be shot, as they treat criminals there rather unceremoniously;

and Don Jose Arias would undoubtedly be transported for life if the

London detectives should discover his present hiding place, to say

nothing of a lively interest which the French _gens d'armes_ take in the

same person. All of these people are now informed that the person whom

they wish to find is living in Gloster as Don Pedro P. L. de Morito, and

they are at this moment hastening agents here to arrest him. By chance,

the Peruvian authorities are the first to arrive, and they have,

therefore, the happy privilege of making the arrest. Now, as you are

probably aware, the Minister will have some difficulty in obtaining an

order from Washington authorizing me to send you to Peru, for want of an

extradition treaty; but while you are under arrest here, we can easily

get warrants from either California, England, or France, and then you

can take your choice between being shot by vigilantes in California,

transported to Van Dieman's Land by England, or sent to work in the

galleys by France. This is your present situation, and I am perfectly

indifferent which course you prefer. If you decide to go with the

Peruvian Minister, you must agree to do so voluntarily, until you are

placed on board the Peruvian vessel, and you must make an assignment of

all your money and property here to reimburse the people whom you have

swindled by the sale of fictitious diamond-fields. If you are willing to

comply with these conditions, you will sign all the necessary papers at

once, and you will leave for New York to-night, before the English

extradition writ arrives; if you refuse these conditions, I shall hold

you until that writ, or one from California, arrives."

The Don was evidently in no mood for defiance: the knowledge of his past

history which I displayed had wholly cowed him, and my allusions to the

vigilantes of California, and the galleys of France, made him tremble

like a leaf. He knew perfectly well the extent of his crimes in those

places, and, also, that my hints of his probable punishment were not

fancy sketches. Finally, he asked to see me alone, but I refused to

grant his request, knowing his object. Then he wished to see the

Minister alone, and I again objected, but I accompanied the two to

another room, where they conversed in Spanish for some time. The

Minister told me that the Don offered the whole of his money and

property to allow him to escape; but, finding his offers useless, he

agreed to go to Peru for trial. No pledges were made to him to

influence his decision, though he begged so hard that the Minister would

intercede for him with the authorities in Peru, that his Excellency

finally promised, in view of the Don's consent to go willingly, to

recommend that his punishment be the lightest that the law could allow.

The Don having fully yielded to the arguments of the Minister and

myself, nothing remained to be done except to obtain his signature to

the papers which had been already prepared, and to pack his trunk for

his journey. Lesparre and Salter performed the latter task while the Don

was signing the papers, and writing out his voluntary agreement to

deliver himself up to the Peruvian authorities. The most important

document was a deed assigning his furniture, horses, carriages,

paintings, statuary, books, and, in short, all his personal property, to

Judge Key, to be disposed of at the latter's discretion, and the

proceeds, with the large amount of cash on hand, to be applied to repay

the subscribers to the Diamond Company stock. In case there should not

be sufficient to pay them in full, the payments should be made _pro

rata_; but should there be an excess, such excess should be applied to

the payment of the Don's private debts, contracted prior to that date.

This provision was, of course, necessary to shut out the bills for

supplies and services at the _fete_ on the following day. Evidently it

was too late to interfere with that interesting entertainment without

throwing a heavy loss on many persons who could not afford to be the

sufferers, and I saw only one way to prevent this, namely; to let the

_fete_ go on, and make those who danced pay the piper.

When the documents had all been signed, I said:

"Jose Gomez, you fully understand the meaning of this paper?" holding up

his surrender to the Peruvian authorities; "it gives me power to convey

you to New York and place you on board of a Peruvian vessel, using

force, if necessary."

The Don bowed his head submissively, and said that he so understood it.

The acknowledgment of the deeds was then made by Judge Key, who was a

notary public, and our success was complete. The Donna was then informed

that her husband would be taken East that night, and she professed to be

much affected. I told her that there was no charge against her, and that

she could go with her husband, or stay in Gloster, according to her own

wishes. She said that she would go with him if Madame Sevier could

accompany them. I had no objection to this, and the two ladies retired

to pack their trunks. There was some uncertainty in my mind whether some

of the Don's cash might not be in the Donna's possession; but I felt

rather confident that she kept her money entirely separate from his, and

that I could trust to Madame Sevier's acuteness to discover how much the

Donna had on hand. I was not disappointed, for, while packing, the Donna

told the Madame that she had about nine thousand dollars, the remains

of her gifts from Mather, but that she could secure an immense sum out

of the iron box if she could get it open. I had already made the Don

confess where he had hidden his money, and one of my detectives was

placed to guard the box; hence, the Donna was disappointed in her

attempts to make a raid on the treasury. While the packing was going on,

I sent to the railroad depot and bought eight railroad tickets for the

party, which was to consist of the Minister, the Consul, the Don and

Donna, Mr. Bangs, Madame Sevier, and two of my men. At half-past nine

o'clock the party was ready and the trunks were sent off. I had kept a

close watch upon the Don until now, and I saw that he hoped to escape

while traveling. When the carriages were announced, I stepped up to him

and told him that my invariable custom in such cases would require me to

put him in irons to prevent any attempt at escape.

"Shall you permit me to be treated in this manner?" he said to the

Peruvian Minister.

"You are not yet in the custody of the Peruvian authorities," I replied,

"and I am responsible for your safe delivery in New York; hence I must

take such precautions as I consider necessary. When you are on board the

Peruvian vessel, the Minister can give such orders concerning you as he

may think proper; but, until then, I alone have the right to determine

what shall be done with you."

In a moment, I had placed a light set of shackles on his feet, and

handcuffs on his wrists; he was quite submissive now, and only seemed

anxious to avoid observation.

As we passed out to the carriages, the Donna handed me a note, addressed

to Henry O. Mather, and asked me to have it delivered immediately. I

agreed to send it at once, though I sent it in such a manner that he

should not receive it until the morning after the _fete_. The party

arrived at the depot in time to secure seats together, and at ten

o'clock the train bore them from the city.

CHAPTER X.

_The Fete Champetre.--A Grand Carnival.--The Disappointed Married

Lover.--A Vain Request.--Unmasked!--A Shrewd Caterer and his

Humiliating Demands.--An Indignant Deacon.--Don Pedro taken to

Peru in a Man-of-War, where he is Convicted and Sentenced to

Fifteen Years' Imprisonment.--But the Donna manages to Satisfy

her Affections in a quiet way in New York._

To the great delight of hundreds of people in Gloster, Wednesday morning

revealed all the indications of a pleasant day, and by noon the weather

was so lovely that nothing could have been more auspicious for the grand

occasion. As the hour approached for the departure of the steamer,

carriage after carriage drew up at the dock to discharge its load of

brilliantly-dressed and masked ladies and gentlemen. The only person

who was not completely protected from recognition was Monsieur Lesparre,

who stood at the gangway to receive the guests, and wore a plain evening

dress, with no mask.

In order to prevent the attendance of persons who had not been invited,

each guest was required to present his or her invitation, and, as there

were, as usual, many who had forgotten to bring their cards, Lesparre

remained at hand to pass them on board, on leaving their names. When the

hour of departure arrived, the boat swung out into the stream, amid the

laughter and merry shouts of the gay revelers that crowded her decks, as

the band flooded the air with music.

At first there was some embarrassment and reserve in the intercourse

between the masqueraders, owing to the novelty of their situation, and

the fact that the ladies at first clung closely to their own little

parties, with whom they had come and to whom they were known; but soon

this feeling wore off. They began to enter into the merry spirit of

revelry which characterizes such entertainments in the cities of the Old

World. The idea of personal identity began to be lost in the gayety of

the moment, and in its place was substituted an identification of each

person with the character which that person represented. The balmy airs

of a perfect spring day wafted to them the sounds of country life along

the shores of the river, and gave sensations both novel and pleasing

to the gay denizens of the city, who rarely experienced any change from

their routine of fashionable entertainments. During the trip by steamer

there was much speculation as to the disguises worn by the Don and

Donna, and though several persons were suspected of being the host and

hostess, there was no sufficient way of identifying them.

[Illustration: _The Fete Champetre.--Page--_]

At length the island was reached, and the party disembarked. The scene,

as they took possession of the tents, booths, and pleasure-grounds, was

brilliant and attractive beyond anything which the guests had ever

witnessed. The island was covered with large trees, whose branches and

foliage afforded a delightful shade. The close underbrush had been

removed everywhere, except in certain ravines and other picturesque

spots, so that the island presented a fine example of the beauties of

landscape gardening. The foreground, at the place of landing, was a

level expanse of green turf, which had been laid there weeks before.

This was partly arranged for archery grounds, while rustic seats and

swings were to be found under every tree. A large platform for open-air

dancing, was placed at the foot of the first ridge from the landing,

while near by was an enclosed dancing-hall, to be used in the evening.

Two bands were in attendance to play dance music constantly, one resting

while the other played. It was understood that dinner would be served,

at four o'clock exactly, in a long dining-room near the dancing-hall,

and at that time every one was to unmask.

As the party spread over the grounds and began to enjoy all the

opportunities for pleasure afforded them, they presented a most novel

appearance. There were representatives, both male and female, of nearly

every known nationality, and all the leading characters of historical

and fictional literature were admirably delineated. Of course, among

such members there were many accidental repetitions of the same

character, but there were also instances of _fac similes_, which were

intentional. This was a frequent cause of mistakes and embarrassing

adventures, and often, when a gay cavalier was talking in tender tones

to some lovely senorita whom he believed he knew, he would be astonished

to see a second senorita, exactly like the first, passing unconcernedly

by.

The afternoon was spent in rowing, sailing, shooting, dancing, and

flirting, and all agreed that they had never known a more truly

delightful day. An elegant lunch was kept ready at all times in a large

_buffet_, adjoining the dining-room, and all kinds of wines and liquors

were served freely. The hour for dinner was fast approaching, and, of

course, by that time, many recognitions had been made, though large

numbers still carefully and successfully preserved their own secrets;

some, however, had already abandoned their masks, still retaining the

fancy costumes. Among these was Mr. Mather, who wandered over the

island half distraught. He had vainly searched for the Donna all day,

and had been unable to enjoy anything because he could not distinguish

her. Often he had believed he had found her, but again and again he had

discovered that he was mistaken; so he continued his search without his

mask, hoping that she would make herself known to him. At last he

approached Lesparre, just before four o'clock.

"My dear Lesparre," he asked, in imploring tones, "I beg that you will

tell me how to recognize Donna Lucia. I have talked with every person

who could possibly be taken for her, and I acknowledge that she is so

perfectly disguised that I cannot discover her. Won't you please tell me

how she is dressed?"

"That I do not know myself," replied Lesparre. "She was very careful to

keep the knowledge from me, for fear I might be teased into telling some

one."

"Well, how is the Don dressed, then?" asked Mather. "Perhaps he will

tell me about the Donna."

"I do not know how he is dressed, either," answered Lesparre. "He was as

secret in his preparations as his wife."

"What! haven't you seen him to speak to since the _fete_ commenced?"

inquired Mather, in astonishment.

"No, I have not seen him since last night," said Lesparre. "You see, the

Don and I made all arrangements yesterday afternoon, and I came down to

the island to superintend the placing of the fireworks in the evening. I

spent the night down here, and have not gone back to the house since I

left it after dinner yesterday evening. The Don has not spoken to me

to-day, and, for all that I know about him, he may not have come to his

own _fete_."

Lesparre said this in a jocular manner, as though he had made quite an

impossible supposition; but Mather seemed to catch an idea from it.

"By Jove! I begin to think so myself," he exclaimed, as if confirming a

thought which had already occurred to him.

Just then Judge Morgan, dressed to represent the Fat Boy of the Pickwick

Papers, rang a large bell, which could be heard all over the island, and

the guests began flocking into the dancing-hall, preparatory to

unmasking and having a grand march into the dining-room. When all were

present, the bustle and talk quieted down, and all looked expectantly

for the Don to give the signal for unmasking. Several of the intimate

friends of the host had assembled on the _dais_ at the head of the hall;

and each of these looked at the others to see which among them was the

Don. At last, Mather stepped forward and addressed the whole company:

"Ladies and gentlemen, somewhere among us are the host and hostess of

this, the most elegant entertainment ever given in Gloster; they have

been successful not only in producing here a fairy spectacle of

unequaled beauty, but also in effectually hiding themselves from

discovery in their assumed characters. So far as I know, not any person

present can state positively the disguise of either Don Pedro or Donna

Lucia. Am I right? If any one has discovered either of them, I ask him

to let us all know it before the signal for unmasking is given."

Mr. Mather waited a moment amid profound stillness, but no one replied

to his request.

"Well, now," he continued, "I respectfully call upon the Don and Donna

to come forward to the _dais_, assume their rightful positions as host

and hostess, and give the order to unmask."

Alas! he was calling upon a pair of unfortunate travelers, who were then

far on their way to New York, one in irons, and the other in tears.

There was no answer nor movement among the gay masqueraders, and

whispers of wonder began to run through the throng.

"Oh! come, Don Pedro," said Judge Morgan, whose appetite called loudly

to be satisfied, "you have shown that your disguise defies discovery;

now come forward and take your place. You can laugh at our dullness all

you please, but don't keep us in suspense any longer."

Still there was no reply, and the astonishment of all the guests began

to assume a form of vague suspicion. At length, Mather again spoke up,

in a husky voice:

"As our host is so retiring, I will take the liberty of asking those

present to unmask, and we shall then discover his disguise. Tap the

bell, Morgan."

Judge Morgan immediately pulled the bell-rope three times, and, as this

was the concerted signal, a gun was fired on board the steamer, and the

band struck up a spirited march. The confusion of unmasking was quickly

over, and the guests formed a long procession around two sides of the

hall, preparatory to marching to dinner; but on the _dais_ the confusion

only increased, as face after face was revealed, and neither host nor

hostess was to be found. Robert Harrington, Charlie Morton, Captain and

Mrs. Kerr, Alexander McIntyre, Judge Taylor, Mr. and Mrs. Benson, Mr.

and Mrs. Simon, Charles H. Sanders, wife and daughter, Deacon Humphrey

and daughter, John Preston and family, and several others, were there,

but not a trace could be seen of Don Pedro P. L. de Morito and Donna

Lucia.

"Where in the devil is the Don?" was the forcible manner in which

Charlie Morton expressed the sentiments of all present.

The absence of the host and hostess could not fail to cause great

confusion at any time, but, in this instance, there seemed to be a host

of suspicions flying about in a few minutes. Madame Sevier's absence was

also noted, and a sort of panic seized every one. No movement toward the

dining-room was made, but all stood irresolute, anxiously waiting for

some one to determine what to do, and set them an example. Lesparre was

sought for and questioned closely as to the reason for his employer's

absence, but he could give no satisfactory answer. He told all inquirers

that he had not seen the Don since the evening previous, and that he was

as ignorant of the cause of his absence as any one. Then several

questions relative to the Don's pecuniary affairs were asked, and

Lesparre told all that he knew. The fact that the Don had exhausted his

bank account, and had kept all his money in his own possession, set a

good many people to thinking about the circumstances of his arrival

there. Then the stockholders in the Diamond Company began to grow

suspicious, and it took but a few minutes to put them in such a state of

vague uneasiness, that they hardly knew what to believe of the man whom

they so lately admired and honored. At length, a consultation was held

among some of the more intimate friends of the Morito family, and it was

decided to go in to dinner as if nothing had happened. If there had been

any accidental detention of the Don and Donna, they would, of course, be

desirous that the _fete_ should proceed without them the same as if they

had been present; while if there was any trickery connected with their

absence, there would be no use of waiting for them to come Accordingly,

the procession was again formed, the band struck up another march, and

the party proceeded toward the dining-room, headed by Henry O. Mather

with Mrs. Simon, and Richard Perkins with Miss Benson.

But now occurred the most humiliating part of the changed programme:

Mr. George P. Westerfield, the caterer, refused to admit the guests to

the dining-room unless the payment of his bill was guaranteed. Mr.

Westerfield was a man of uncommon shrewdness. He had been accustomed to

furnishing the suppers at the grand entertainments of the city for

several years, and he was well acquainted with the circumstances of

every person in the social world; hence, he had seen a great deal of the

Don and Donna during their stay in the city. He had no more reason to

suspect them of having taken flight than the others, but his native

keenness and good judgment led him to protect himself, and he resolutely

declined to open the dining-room doors unless his bill was guaranteed.

An animated discussion immediately arose between Mr. Westerfield and the

hungry guests; but nothing would induce him to change his resolve. He

said that he was already out of pocket largely by the lunch he had

served during the afternoon, and he could not afford to lose his dinner

too.

"But Don Pedro will pay for everything," said Mr. Mather. "He is

immensely wealthy, and he always pays cash promptly for all he buys."

"Yes, that may have been true heretofore, but how do I know where Don

Pedro is?" queried the caterer.

"Why, he is probably accidentally detained in Gloster," replied Mather.

"I have every confidence in him, and when he explains his unfortunate

absence to-day, those who have suspected him will regret their hasty

remarks derogatory to his character."

"Well, then, Mr. Mather," said the shrewd caterer, "if you have every

confidence in Don Pedro, you can give me your guarantee that I shall be

paid in full, and then I shall be happy to serve the guests the same as

if the Don were here."

Mr. Mather hesitated a moment, and then refused to do anything of the

kind. He was, undoubtedly, so disturbed in mind that he hardly knew what

he was doing. If he had kept his wits about him, he would not have

hesitated an instant to take the whole expense of the _fete_ on his own

shoulders rather than have such a scene occur as seemed imminent, for

the sum would have been a mere bagatelle to him; but he knew not what to

think, and his suspicions ran far ahead of those of any other person

present. He had on his shoulders the whole responsibility of this man,

Don Pedro, for he had invited him to Gloster, and had largely vouched

for his character; hence, if Don Pedro should prove to be a swindler, a

great deal of blame would fall upon Mather. This feeling contributed

largely to confuse and annoy him, while his passion for the Donna was

another cause of embarrassment. He therefore acted in a most nervous,

uncertain way, and seemed quite unable to decide what to do. Mr.

Westerfield's proposition was reasonable enough, and he was willing to

accept the guarantee of any other gentleman of known responsibility; but

singularly, there was not one among all who had been intimate with the

Don who would make himself liable for the cost of the dinner;

consequently the caterer refused to admit the throng into the

dining-room. By this time every one was worked up into a state of

righteous indignation. The apprehensions of the owners of Diamond

Company stock were the first causes of the feeling against the Don, and

the disappointing termination of the long-anticipated _fete_ was another

fruitful source of bitterness. As people's appetites began to call

loudly for dinner, it became evident that the caterer's demands must be

satisfied in some way, and finally it was agreed that the dinner should

be paid for by those who partook of it at the rate of ten dollars a

plate. This amount was to include the lunch and wine already furnished,

and also all the provisions for dinner with the remainder of the wine

provided under the contract with Don Pedro. Under this agreement, the

dinner was served in the best possible style to the long array of

famished and irritated masqueraders. It was not a very cheerful meal,

for too many of the participants were preoccupied with thoughts of their

possibly lost investments in the stock of the Diamond Company; but,

under the influence of excellent viands and good wine, there was a

slight reaction in the feelings of the younger members of the party, and

when the last course had been served, they proposed to go on with the

entertainment the same as though nothing had happened.

On entering the dancing-hall, therefore, the greater portion of the

young people prepared to enjoy the evening in dancing; but here again an

obstacle presented itself: the bandsmen had taken alarm from the action

of the caterer, and they refused to play unless their account was

settled. Not a note would they sound until their demands were satisfied,

and so the gentlemen contributed, jointly, enough to pay them in full

also. The troubles and annoyances of the later portion of the _fete_

were soon forgotten by the greater number of the butterflies who formed

the assembly, and as they floated off to the strains of a beautiful

waltz, they unanimously decided to spend the evening in a delightful

dance.

Meantime, however, many of the more staid and elderly guests, having

decided to go home immediately after dinner, had gone down to the

steamboat landing to embark. To their astonishment they saw the steamer

tied up on the opposite shore, her lights being just visible across the

water. After various attempts to hail her, a reply was heard from a

small boat, which contained the captain. He pulled in near the shore,

and Judge Morgan, in an important tone, ordered him to bring his steamer

across the river and convey a party back to Gloster.

"But who is going to pay me for the use of my steamer all day?" asked

the captain, resting on his oars, within easy talking distance of the

shore. Alas! he, also, had determined to follow the example of the

caterer, and demand payment for his services before admitting the

excursionists on board his steamer.

"Pay you" exclaimed the horrified Ethan Allen Benson, who had paid so

much for his dinner that his miserly soul was already repenting having

come; "why, Don Pedro will pay you, of course."

"Well, I'd like to see him, then," said the captain.

An exciting conversation then ensued between the indignant would-be

passengers and the captain of the steamer. The latter, however, had all

the advantage, for he knew the masqueraders must eventually come to his

terms.

"What do you mean by refusing to take us on board?" demanded Deacon

Humphrey, furiously. "Don't you know that we can't stay here all night?"

"I presume not," said the captain, "and I don't suppose you will do so;

but I must have payment for the use of my steamer. You can pay me in one

sum by a check, or you can pay me at the rate of three dollars a head: I

don't care which you choose, only I must be paid."

The altercation continued at some length, and eventually the captain

said that he could not afford to waste coal in keeping steam up, and if

they did not agree to his terms, he would haul fires and let his steamer

stay where she was all night. This threat brought the party to his

terms, and he was ordered to bring his steamer over. He refused to make

more than one trip, however, and so the dancers were called away from

the ballroom at the end of the first waltz, thus spoiling their

gayety almost ere it had begun. As the motley groups gathered on shore

awaiting the steamer's approach, a more deeply disgusted and indignant

assemblage was never known in the annals of good society, and curses,

both openly and inwardly expressed against the Don, were numerous and

bitter. As they passed over the gangway, the captain and clerk were at

hand to collect fares, and no one was allowed to pass without paying

cash or giving a check for the amount, indorsed by some well-known man

of wealth and position. Finally, the whole sorrowful party was embarked,

and the steamer turned her head toward Gloster. The excitement and

continuous dancing, which most of those on board had indulged in during

the day, had left them in a state of nervous and physical fatigue little

calculated to improve their spirits, while the financial losses of many

were matters of an intensely depressing influence upon them. A more

ill-tempered, disappointed, and irritable cargo cannot be imagined.

Their troubles were not ended even on their arrival at the wharf in

Gloster, for, being so much earlier in returning than they had expected,

no carriages were in attendance, and the ladies were obliged to wait on

board while their escorts went to the livery stables to order carriages

to take them home.

[Illustration: _"What do you mean by refusing to take us on board?"

demanded Deacon Humphrey furiously.--Page--_]

Thus ended the _fete champetre_ which had been anticipated so fondly as

a new departure in the social world of Gloster. In this, however, it was

a success; for, certainly, its like had never been seen before, and the

guests were profoundly hopeful that they never should see its like

again.

The following morning the whole city was talking of the flight of the

Peruvian adventurers. Their late residence was besieged by the holders

of Diamond Company stock, and the fact of their absence was then clearly

established. The servants had been paid off by Madame Sevier a day or

two before, and no one remained in the house except Lesparre. To all

inquirers he gave the same answer as he had given at the _fete_: he was

entirely ignorant of the whereabouts of the Don, and was as anxious as

any one else to find him, in order to obtain his last quarter's salary,

which was unpaid. The affair was a nine-days' wonder, and the mystery

was still further increased in the minds of the stockholders on

receiving a note from Judge Key requesting their attendance at a meeting

to settle their accounts with Don Pedro. The meeting was strictly

confidential, only the actual purchasers of stock being admitted. Judge

Key explained to them that Don Pedro P. L. de Morito had been arrested

and carried away for forgery and other crimes, but that, before going,

he had assigned all his property to Judge Key to satisfy the claims of

the Diamond Company stockholders.

"But how did you induce him to surrender this money and property?" was

the question which was asked in various forms nearly a score of times.

"I cannot give you any particulars," replied the Judge; "you must be

satisfied to know that he made this assignment in due legal form, and

that the amount which I shall realize will pay your claims nearly in

full. The slight loss which you will sustain will be serviceable as a

warning against throwing away your money so recklessly hereafter."

The letter of Donna Lucia to Mr. Henry O. Mather was delivered to that

gentleman early the day after the _fete_. Immediately on reading it he

packed his trunk and took the next train for New York. Meantime the

party under the charge of Mr. Bangs arrived in New York without accident

Thursday afternoon. In accordance with telegrams sent by the Peruvian

Minister, the captain of the Peruvian man-of-war had taken his vessel

down into the lower harbor, and was ready to sail at a moment's notice.

A steam-tug was in readiness at Pier 1 to take the party out to the

vessel, and Don Pedro was transferred by carriage directly from the

Hudson River Railroad depot to the steam-tug. The party accompanied him

on board the man-of-war, and the tug towed the war-ship through the

Narrows.

The Don and Donna had an affectionate and sorrowful parting in the

cabin, and as the ship made sail outside the bar, the tug dropped

alongside; the Minister, Consul, Donna Lucia, Madame Sevier, and the

detectives, leaving the Don in charge of the captain, then returned to

New York in the tug.

Two days later, Mr. Mather also arrived in that city, and quickly found

his way to the Donna's presence. What they said to each other may never

be known, but it is probable that the interview was satisfactory to both

parties. Thenceforward the Donna lived in New York in the best style,

though for some reason she failed to enter the same social circle that

she had known before. As long, however, as she and Mr. Mather were

contented, they considered that no one else need be troubled about their

arrangements. How long Mr. Mather's infatuation lasted, I have no means

of knowing, as I soon recalled Madame Sevier, and lost all interest in

the affair.

Jose Gomez was tried immediately on his arrival in Peru, and was

sentenced to fifteen years' imprisonment, but he made his escape within

two years from the time of his trial. His future career I never learned,

but it is altogether probable that he pursued, during the remainder of

his life, the same style of money-making (though perhaps on a smaller

scale) as that which rendered notorious the name of Don Pedro P. L. de

Morito.

THE END.

THE POISONER AND DETECTIVES.

CHAPTER I.

_Mr. Pinkerton, at a Water-Cure, becomes interested in a Couple, one

of whom subsequently causes the Detective Operation from which

this Story is written.--A wealthy Ship-Owner and his Son.--The

Son "found dead."--A Woman that knows too much and too little

by turns.--Mr. Pinkerton secured to solve the

Mystery.--Chicago after the Great Fire._

During the summer of 1870, I was spending a few weeks at a water-cure

for the benefit of my health. The place was one not widely advertised

nor generally known, and the number of frequenters was not large; hence,

I became somewhat acquainted with most of the visitors, and, as a matter

of habit, noticed their traits and peculiarities with more attentiveness

than a casual meeting would naturally warrant. Of course I had no idea

that I ever should make any use of my observations, but I simply kept up

a customary oversight upon everything about me. Among those whom I thus

noticed was a lady, about forty-five years of age, and her son, who was

about twenty-six years old. The mother, Mrs. R. S. Trafton, was a

pleasant woman, well preserved, and comparatively youthful in

appearance. She was afflicted by a rheumatic affection, which caused

her to visit these springs for relief; and her son accompanied her

partly to look after her comfort, and partly to obtain a vacation from

work. He was a tall, robust young man, with fine physique and strong

constitution, but he showed the effects of overwork. I always make a

point of observing the character and habits of those around me, and long

experience has given me considerable accuracy of judgment with regard to

my acquaintances, even where I am not an intimate associate with them.

The more I saw of Stanley D. Trafton, the more I was interested in him.

His mother was devoted to him, and he to her, so that they were rarely

seen apart.

Springville was a very quiet, dull place, and, aside from the invalid

visitors, there was nothing about the society to relieve the usual

monotony of an uninteresting country town; hence, I was thrown largely

upon my own resources for amusement, and I had little else to do except

to observe the different strangers and speculate about them. Among them

all there were none who afforded me a more interesting study than young

Trafton, and, although I never formed his acquaintance, I began to feel

that I understood his character quite thoroughly.

He was about five feet ten inches in height, of compact, muscular build,

full chest, stout limbs, and erect carriage. His complexion was clear

and healthy, his features regular, his expression intelligent and open,

and his manners were very frank and attractive to most people. His

general appearance was that of an intelligent, handsome man, of more

than ordinary ability and steady character.

I learned that his father, Mr. Richard S. Trafton, of Cleveland, was a

wealthy ship-owner and merchant, and that his son attended largely to

the purchase of grain in the West for shipment in his father's vessels.

I judged that young Trafton was a good business man, with an eye to

details as well as general results, and while he had no appearance of

being small-minded, he did not despise economy in his business affairs.

He did not seem like a person who would spend money for mere display or

effect; yet, neither would he deny himself the comforts and luxuries

belonging to a man of his wealth and position in society. There was

nothing of the profligate about him, and his devotion to his mother

showed that he must have a genuine and hearty respect for the whole sex.

In the course of a few weeks I left Springville, much improved in

health, and I soon forgot all about Mrs. Trafton and her son, until the

latter was brought under my notice again amid very tragical and

sorrowful circumstances.

Early in the winter of the following year, I was deeply engrossed in

business, having an accumulation of cases on hand which taxed my

ingenuity and energies to the utmost. I therefore placed almost all of

the less important operations in the hands of my superintendent, Mr.

Francis Warner, though I kept a general supervisory control over every

case on the books of the Agency. One morning, as I was conversing with

Mr. Warner, two gentlemen were admitted to my office by my confidential

clerk, who informed me that they had suspicions of foul play as the

cause of the death of one of their friends, and they wished the

circumstances fully investigated by the Agency. The gentlemen were Mr.

John Updike, of Cleveland, and Captain Edward R. Dalton, a ship captain,

of Buffalo. They introduced themselves, produced credentials and

references, and then told me the following story:

In November previous, Mr. Stanley D. Trafton, of Cleveland, left that

city to go to Chicago. He was the son of Mr. Richard S. Trafton, a

wealthy shipper of Cleveland, and the father was anxious to keep his

vessels employed. Captain Dalton commanded one of Mr. Trafton's

schooners, and he expected to arrive in Chicago harbor about November

20. Accordingly, young Trafton was to meet the vessel there, and, in

case she did not obtain a charter at a paying rate, he was to purchase a

cargo of oats on his own account. He brought, therefore, a considerable

amount of money and negotiable paper. He had about eight hundred dollars

in currency, two thousand five hundred dollars in United States

five-twenty bonds, and a letter from his father authorizing him to draw

upon him for a large amount. The bonds were the usual coupon bonds of

the denomination of five hundred dollars each, and fortunately Mr.

Trafton, senior, had the numbers of these securities.

Stanley Trafton arrived in Chicago November 22, and found the schooner

awaiting him. He tried to obtain a room in one of the hotels, but he

soon gave this up as a hopeless task, for the reason that there was no

hotel in the city which was not already crowded almost to an unsafe

degree. He then took up his quarters on board the schooner, getting his

meals at a restaurant. This was not at all pleasant, and he finally

discovered a place where furnished rooms were to let near one of the

hotels. He therefore announced to Captain Dalton that he had taken a

room at 92 West Madison street. They met each other every day, however,

and at last, seeing no profit to be made by purchasing grain in the then

condition of the market, Mr. Trafton informed the captain that he might

sail for Cleveland on Friday, December 1. On Thursday he visited the

captain and promised to return on board again that evening; he failed to

do so, however, and the schooner sailed next morning.

Five days afterward, Captain Dalton received a dispatch, sent by a firm

of commission merchants in Chicago, announcing that Stanley D. Trafton

had been found dead in his bed. Mr. Updike, who was a warm friend of the

family, and Captain Dalton, then visited Chicago, arriving December 8.

They found the body of Mr. Trafton at the Morgue awaiting claimants,

together with a quantity of valuables which had been in his possession

when he died. There were two five-twenty bonds, one being torn in two

pieces, a set of diamond studs, a small amount of loose change, and

three one-hundred-dollar bills. A coroner's inquest had been held, and a

verdict of death by congestion of the lungs had been rendered.

The circumstances of young Trafton's death, as related by the officials

in charge of the body, created considerable suspicion in the minds of

Messrs. Updike and Dalton, who, therefore, proceeded to investigate the

affair. In the first place, they were well aware that fifteen hundred

dollars in bonds, and nearly five hundred dollars in currency, were

missing; secondly, they learned that Trafton had been found dead in bed

Friday morning, December 1, only about eighteen hours after he had left

Captain Dalton in perfect health.

Accordingly, Mr. Updike and Captain Dalton visited his late

lodging-place, which was kept by a woman named May Sanford.

The building was a two-story frame residence, which, like thousands of

others after the Great Fire, had been rearranged for business purposes.

The lower floor was occupied as a furniture store, while the second

floor was also partly occupied by business offices. A covered stairway

on the side led to the upper story, and, while the front hall bedroom,

the front parlor and the next room back, were used as offices, the rear

portion was occupied by Mrs. Sanford, who rented most of her rooms as

sleeping apartments.

[Illustration: _"He was lying in bed with froth about his mouth and a

ghastly look on his face."--Page--_]

On stating their object in calling, the two gentlemen were admitted to

Mrs. Sanford's sitting-room, and she then gave her account of the

circumstances connected with young Trafton's death. She stated that she

met him first on the street and recognized him as an old acquaintance

who had been intimate with her husband and herself when they lived in

Buffalo; that he stopped and talked with her for a time, and, learning

that she had furnished rooms to let, he said he would rent one. He

stayed there five days, and, on the sixth, which was Thursday, November

30, he came to his room in the evening and complained of feeling unwell.

He had been drinking very hard all the week, and she said that this

evening he was quite drunk. He complained that he could not keep

anything on his stomach, and asked Mrs. Sanford to cook something nice

for him. Accordingly she boiled a chicken, but he could not eat it, and

he then went to bed. During the evening, she heard him snoring very

loudly as she passed his door, but she thought nothing of it, and went

to bed at eleven o'clock. About seven o'clock next morning, she knocked

at his door, but he made no answer, and she pushed the door open, the

bolt being a very slight one. She then found Mr. Trafton lying

diagonally across the bed, with his head hanging down and froth on his

lips. Becoming alarmed at his appearance, she called in a gentleman

named Taylor G. Pratt, who occupied her back parlor as a real estate

office and sleeping-room. Mr. Pratt examined the body of Mr. Trafton and

told her that he was dead, advising her to inform the police authorities

of the fact. She immediately closed the room and went to the nearest

police station, where she reported the circumstances relative to the

death of Mr. Trafton so far as she knew them, and asked what she should

do with the body. The police sergeant promised to send the coroner as

soon as possible to make an investigation, and she was instructed to

leave the body and room untouched until the coroner should arrive. That

evening an inquest was held by the County Physician, and a verdict of

death by congestion of the lungs was rendered. Mrs. Sanford gave an

account of the finding of the money and bonds, which exactly agreed with

that given by the County Physician, whom she assisted in making search

for Trafton's valuables. In one boot, lying under his head, they found a

five-twenty bond for five hundred dollars and half of another one, the

remainder of this torn bond being found in the right-hand pocket of his

pantaloons. In his vest pocket were found three United States notes for

one hundred dollars each, and a small quantity of loose change. A set of

diamond studs still remained in his shirt, and, as the story was related

by her, there was nothing suspicious about the affair except the

suddenness of his death.

Having heard all that Mrs. Sanford and the County Physician had to say

on the subject, Mr. Updike and Captain Dalton took charge of the body,

and shipped it to Cleveland, where they placed it in the hands of four

experienced surgeons, with instructions to make a thorough and careful

examination as to the cause of death. The first thing noticed by them

was an evidence of considerable external violence on the right side,

over the liver, there being a large bruise, about the size of a saucer,

apparently caused by a blow. The coagulation of blood beneath the skin

showed that this injury must have been caused during Trafton's lifetime,

but very shortly before his death. A similar, though smaller bruise, was

found on his thigh, while several bruises on the base of the neck and

throat showed that the windpipe must have been severely compressed just

previous to death. None of these marks had been noticed by the County

Physician in making the post-mortem examination, and it seemed probable

that he had first guessed at the cause of death, and then made only a

sufficient examination to find some corroboration of his theory. The

Cleveland surgeons had great difficulty in accounting for Trafton's

death, but they were unanimous in scouting the theory of death by

congestion of the lungs. They found the body to be healthy in every

part, except the external bruises; and, while these were not of a

sufficiently serious character to account for the death of so robust a

man, they could find no other cause whatever. These facts, together

with the disappearance of fifteen hundred dollars in bonds, and about

five hundred dollars in currency, which Trafton was known to have had in

his possession, caused his relatives and friends to believe that he had

been murdered for his money, and that the murderer had been shrewd

enough to leave a large portion of the plunder to allay suspicion. The

trick had proven to be a most excellent one, for, as the County

Physician afterward acknowledged, the idea of foul play never occurred

to him, owing to the apparent lack of incentive thereto; had there been

no money, or only a small amount, found on the body, he would have made

a much more rigid examination; but no suspicion even crossed his mind,

and he acted with the haste which characterized almost all operations in

Chicago at that time.

In order, therefore, to discover all the facts in the case, and to

recover, if possible, the missing money and bonds, Mr. Trafton, senior,

had decided to put the affair in my hands for a thorough investigation,

and Mr. Opdike and Captain Dalton had called upon me for that purpose.

Having heard their statement, I asked a number of questions, which

elicited the following additional information:

On returning to Chicago the second time, they had again visited Mrs.

Sanford, and found that she had taken every particle of furniture out of

the room where Trafton had died. At the time of their call, they saw a

policeman whom she called Charlie, with whom she seemed to be very

intimate. She said that Charlie was the first person to see Trafton

after she found he was dead that morning, he having been sent over by

the sergeant as soon as she reported the fact. This story contradicted

her former statement, that she first called Mr. Pratt into the room;

moreover, the sergeant of police had told them that the policeman did

not go to the room at all, but merely took the number of the house and

went away.

At this interview, Mrs. Sanford gave them the blank power to draw upon

Mr. Trafton, senior, saying that she had found it at the foot of the bed

since their former visit. She also showed them a gold coin which she

said young Trafton had given her as a keepsake. Both gentlemen

recognized this coin as one which Trafton prized very highly for some

reason, he having refused to part with it even to his mother; it seemed

hardly possible that he should have given it to a chance acquaintance

like Mrs. Sanford.

During this conversation she claimed to have lent Mr. Trafton three

hundred and twenty-five dollars, though she did not seem greatly

disappointed when they refused to repay her that amount. Mr. Updike gave

her twenty-five dollars, however, to pay for Mr. Trafton's board and

lodging, and to recompense her for her trouble. The story that Trafton

had borrowed money of her was absurd on its face, and she acted as if

she hardly expected to be believed.

Before coming to Chicago this time, Mr. Updike had written to Mr. T. B.

Vernon, of Buffalo, asking for information relative to the antecedents

of this Mrs. Sanford. Mr. Vernon had replied that she had a very bad

reputation in Buffalo, having been divorced from her husband for

adultery, and having been arrested in March previous for being drunk and

disorderly. She had a paramour at that time, named James McSandy, a

police-station keeper, and it was supposed that he had gone West with

her.

Another circumstance had been noticed by Captain Dalton, which led him

to believe that Trafton had been murdered with his clothes on, and

afterward undressed and put to bed: the sole of one of his boots was

covered with whitewash, as if it had been violently pressed and scraped

along a wall. Now, the room where he was found had been newly

whitewashed when they arrived there, so that any marks on the wall made

by him in his struggles would be wholly obliterated.

Having learned all the facts bearing upon the case known by my visitors,

I informed them of my terms for conducting an investigation of this

character, and sketched a hasty outline of my plan of operation. As they

had already hinted their suspicions to a member of the city detective

force, who was inclined to make light of them, I suggested that they

inform him that they had changed their minds in the matter, having

learned from the Cleveland physicians that death was surely caused by

congestion of the lungs. They then took their departure, saying that

they would lay my plan before Mr. Richard S. Trafton, and he would

telegraph to me whether I should proceed with the operation. On

Christmas day, I received a telegram from Mr. Trafton, briefly

instructing me to proceed, and my plan was put in operation at once.

Before proceeding further with the history of my connection with this

case, it will be necessary to remind the reader of the anomalous

condition of social and business affairs in Chicago at the time of which

I write; for, without any explanation, he might have difficulty in

understanding many things in connection with the story.

It will be remembered that the Great Fire of Chicago occurred October 8

and 9, 1871, and this case was placed in my hands only about nine weeks

afterward. At the time of Mr. Trafton's death, a pall of smoke hung over

the city, and, at night, the still-smouldering heaps of coal throughout

the "burned district" glowed like volcanic fissures, casting a weird

fantastic light about the ruins, and illumining the clouds of smoke

overhead with a ruddy glow which was visible for miles away. The streets

were filled with dust and ashes, while the fumes of carbonic acid gas

were sometimes almost stifling. To venture, at any time, into the waste

of ruins, which stretched more than three miles in one direction,

through the formerly richest portion of the city, was not a pleasant

undertaking; but to make such an excursion at night was attended with

more hazard than most peaceably-disposed men would care to run. There

were no gaslights, no sidewalks, no street indicators; in many places,

piles of stone and brick were heaped in almost impassable barricades

from one side of the street to the other; all landmarks were gone, and

the old resident was as liable to lose his way as the stranger.

The city, moreover, was crowded with what is sometimes called "a

floating population," a species of driftwood, or scum, gathered from

every quarter of the globe; indeed, a large percentage seemed to have

come straight from the infernal regions, with all the passions and

habits incidental to a prolonged residence there. Hence, the labors of

the police force were increased to an extent which taxed their abilities

to the utmost, and made the task of protecting the respectable portion

of the community about all that could be required of them; that they

should be apt to suspect foul play, in a case where the coroner had no

suspicions, was hardly to be expected. Besides this, there was nothing

settled on any permanent foundation; business men flitted hither and

thither wherever they could best obtain accommodations for the time

being, and whence people came or whither they went was a matter which no

one had time to inquire into, much less to investigate.

The destruction of thousands of business blocks and dwellings left the

city without adequate accommodations for offices and residences, even

for its own regular population; but when the rush of strangers swelled

the aggregate nearly twenty per cent., there seemed hardly

sleeping-rooms for them all. Dwelling-houses by thousands were converted

into stores, manufactories, and offices, until fabulous prices were

offered for the merest closets in the vicinity of the new temporary

business centers. Every hotel was thronged from the basement to the

Mansard roof, and late arrivals were oftentimes happy if they could get

a straw mattress on a billiard-table, or an army cot in a hall.

I call especial attention to these things to account for certain

apparent anomalies in the action of different persons connected with

this tragedy. For instance: a young gentleman of Mr. Trafton's wealth

and respectability would never have rented a mean little room in a petty

lodging-house, if he could have found any other place equally convenient

to business; the County Physician would not have taken things so much

for granted, if he had not been so hard at work and so pressed for time,

owing to the immense army of gratuitous patients who thronged the

offices of the County Agent and the Relief and Aid Society; the police

would not have been so remiss in failing to examine into the death of

Mr. Trafton, if they had not had their hands full of other business to

an unprecedented extent; and, lastly, when I came to work up the case, I

should not have had so much difficulty in finding witnesses, if it had

not been that people came and went through Chicago like the waves of

the sea in mid-ocean, leaving no trace by which they could be followed

or identified.

These circumstances, combined with certain facts which will appear in

the course of this narrative, made the task assigned me one of unusual

difficulty. Mr. Warner was intrusted with the general management of the

case, though he frequently consulted me in relation to it; and, though

we were continually working in the dark, we never despaired of our

eventual success.

CHAPTER II.

_The Detectives at Work.--Mrs. Sanford Described.--Charlie, the

Policeman.--Mrs. Sanford develops Interest in Government Bonds.--Chicago

Relief and Aid Benefits.--Mrs. Sanford's Story of Trafton's Death.--A

nice little Arrangement.--Mrs. Sanford explains to the Detective her

method of "Quieting People."--Ingham "Makes a Raise."--Mrs. Sanford

fears being Haunted, but is not easily Frightened._

The day after Christmas a tall, well-built man called at No. 92 Madison

street, and asked for the lady of the house. Mrs. Sanford soon entered

the sitting-room, and the stranger said that, having seen the sign,

"Furnished Rooms to Rent," he had called to engage lodgings. He

introduced himself as John Ingham, and said that he was a bookkeeper,

temporarily out of employment. Mrs. Sanford received him with great

cordiality, and seemed much pleased to have him as a lodger. She said

that she had no suitable room just then, but that a married couple were

about to leave, and then Mr. Ingham could have their room. She then

showed him through the house. The two front rooms were occupied by an

insurance company, and the back parlor was used as a real estate office

and sleeping-room by two brothers, named Pratt. At the head of the

stairs was a small bedroom, through which it was necessary to pass to

obtain admission to the rear part of the house. The passageway from this

bedroom to the sitting-room was made by partitioning off a small entry

from the back parlor. There were four doors in this sitting-room: one

opened from the entry; at the opposite side was one which opened into

another entry; the third was adjoining this second door, and it opened

into the large bedroom occupied by the married couple; the fourth door

led into Mrs. Sanford's own room. At the end of the back entry was an

unfurnished room and a kitchen. The front bedroom was occupied by two

young women who worked in a bindery, and their accommodations could

hardly have been very agreeable, as every one was obliged to pass

through their room on the way to the other rooms in the rear.

Mrs. Sanford was a good-looking woman, about thirty-two years old. Her

features were quite pretty, and her expression was pleasing. She was

very plump, and her skin was smooth and soft. She had brown hair, a nose

slightly _retrousse_, and a pleasant smile. Her eyes, however, were a

bluish gray, cold and watchful as those of a hawk. She might have been

called handsome but for the effects of dissipation, which were plainly

visible in her face. She had a pleasant voice, and she was naturally

easy in her manners. If she was in a good humor, she could be quite

fascinating; and almost any stranger, after talking with her for a few

minutes, would feel satisfied that she had once occupied a social

station far above that in which she was now placed. She had a good

education, and very frequently she would give evidences of having had a

wide range of really good reading. At times, her recitations and

declamations, wholly from memory, were exceptionally fine, and, but for

her two ruling passions, she might have been an actress of a high rank.

She had two controlling vices, one natural, the other acquired: her

greed for money was inborn, and it seemed to absorb at times every other

faculty; while the habit of using morphine had become so fastened upon

her, that she could not shake it off. She was a most contradictory

medley of compounds, however, and while her thirst for money seemed to

overpower all other considerations with her as a general rule, on some

occasions she would be as wasteful and careless of expense as the most

prodigal woman in the world. But when she had set her mind on the

acquisition of any particular money or piece of personal property, there

was no length to which she would not go to attain her object. The mere

sight of money seemed to act upon her with an effect almost of insanity,

and she would then have no regard for consequences until after she had

secured the coveted prize.

It will be readily understood, of course, that Mr. John Ingham, usually

known as Jack, was one of my detectives, sent to obtain lodging with

Mrs. Sanford, to win her confidence and learn all that he could.

Ingham agreed to take the large room in the rear, but he wanted to come

immediately. Mrs. Sanford agreed, therefore, to make up a bed for him on

the sofa in the sitting-room until the departure of Mr. and Mrs. Graves,

who were then occupying the back room. Having agreed upon the terms,

Ingham went away, promising to return that night. Accordingly, he came

in again about nine o'clock in the evening, and found that Mrs. Sanford

was entertaining a policeman. He was a rather good-looking fellow, and

was in full uniform, except his star. He remained until nearly twelve

o'clock, and when he went out, Mrs. Sanford followed him to the door,

with many affectionate caresses and tender remarks. After he had gone,

she began to converse very confidentially with Ingham, telling him that

she was engaged to be married to Charlie, the policeman.

"Don't you think a policeman is good enough to marry?" she asked.

"Oh, yes!" replied Ingham, "and your Charlie seems to be a fine fellow."

"Well, he is awfully fond of me," she continued, "and he spends all his

time off duty with me; but I don't know whether I care to marry him.

What do you think about it, Mr. Ingham?"

"You ought not to be in any hurry about it," he replied, "for you might

see some one whom you would like better."

"Oh! I have had a number of offers lately," she said, laughing. "I have

had to work hard for a living, and have saved up quite a good sum; and,

besides that, my father sent me two thousand dollars a short time ago,

so that I have a snug little fortune. But Charlie doesn't know anything

about it, and I shan't tell him until after we are married."

After some further conversation, she said that she was hungry, and

wished she had someone to go to the nearest restaurant with. Ingham

volunteered to act as her escort, and they went out together. While

eating supper, she suddenly asked whether government bonds were good

property to invest in. Ingham replied that they were very good indeed,

since the interest was payable in gold, and there were no taxes to pay

upon them.

"Well, suppose you should lose them," she queried; "could any one who

found them make use of them without being discovered?"

"Yes, I think so," said Ingham. "There is no means of learning how they

came into the bearer's possession."

"Did you ever own any?" she inquired.

"No, but I used to cash the coupons for my employer in Louisville, and I

know a good deal about them."

"What business were you in there?" she asked, with a considerable show

of interest.

"I was bookkeeper for a wholesale liquor firm, and the senior partner

used to put all his money into government bonds."

"Why did you leave Louisville?" she continued, seemingly desirous of

learning as much as possible of his history.

"Oh! well, I got hard up," he replied, evasively, "and there was some

mistake in my accounts which I couldn't explain satisfactorily, so I

thought best to go out of town for awhile. You know we are all liable to

mistakes when we are hard up."

"Yes, indeed, I understand," she replied, in a satisfied tone of voice.

"What are you going to do here?"

"Well, I can't tell yet. I have a small job of closing up a set of books

for the year, and when that is done I shall look around for something

else. I'm not particular what I do, if it pays well."

"Perhaps you could get employment from the Relief and Aid Society," she

said, "and then you could get lots of nice things for me. This man,

Graves, whose room you are to have, is employed there, and he steals

enough to keep the woman who is with him in good style."

"Why, aren't they married?" asked Ingham.

"No, I don't believe they are married," she replied, "and I've given

them notice to leave. Mr. Graves gets hardly any pay, but he brings her

all kinds of presents, and she sells them to the pawnbrokers."

On their return to the house, Mrs. Sanford made up a bed on the sofa for

Ingham, and then went to her room.

The day following, Ingham went down to his work on the South Side, and

did not return until eight o'clock in the evening. He said that he knew

of a chance to buy a cigar stand in one of the leading hotels, and that

he would like to do it if he could raise the money. Mrs. Sanford seemed

to have taken a great fancy to her new lodger, for she told him that she

would assist him, if it did not cost too much.

"By the way, I was sorry you were not here this afternoon," she said.

"There was a very pretty young lady friend of mine here, and I would

like to have you meet her."

"What was her name?"

"Ida Musgrove."

"Have you known her long?"

"Oh! no, I have only lived in Chicago a few months. I used to live in

Cleveland before I separated from my husband, and we had a fine

stone-front house there."

"How did you happen to leave your husband?" asked Ingham.

"Well, he began running after other women, and, though I forgave him

several times, when he brought his mistress to live in the same house

with me, I left him."

"He must have been a very hard case to do such a thing as that," said

Ingham, sympathizingly.

"Yes; and then he sold the house, promising to give me half if I would

sign the deed; but he never gave me a cent, so that I have had to work

hard to support myself and my little girl, who is boarding at Riverside.

However, I am all right now, for my father sent me three thousand

dollars the other day, and I shall have plenty of money hereafter."

"Hadn't you any friends here who would have helped you?" asked Ingham.

"No, I hardly knew any one; but I met an old friend from Cleveland about

a month ago, and he died here in my house. Haven't I told you about

that?"

"No, indeed; how was it?"

"Well, you see, this Mr. Trafton was a former lover of mine in

Cleveland, and he was very rich and handsome. He came here last month

and took the back room in my house. He was very kind to me, and wanted

to marry me; but he drank hard for a week and began to show the effects

of his dissipation. Finally, he came home one evening quite drunk, and

he complained of feeling sick. I boiled a chicken for him, but he could

not eat it, and he went to bed. Next morning he did not call me as

usual, and I went to his door and knocked; there was no answer, and so I

pushed open his door. He was lying in bed with froth about his mouth and

a ghastly look on his face which frightened me terribly. Then I called

in Mr. Pratt, who roomed in the back parlor, and he said that Mr.

Trafton was dead. When the coroner came, we found twenty-five thousand

dollars in Mr. Trafton's pockets, besides his diamond studs and other

property. Oh! it was a dreadful thing for me to think that such a

handsome fellow as my Stanley should die in my house."

"What was the matter with him?" asked Ingham.

"The coroner held an inquest, and a post-mortem examination showed that

he died of congestion of the lungs."

"Did you know that he had all that money with him?" asked Ingham,

significantly lowering his voice.

"No, I did not know it until afterward," she replied; "why do you ask?"

"Oh! for no special reason; but," he added, in a determined way, "you

might have helped yourself to some of that money and no one would have

been the wiser. I tell you, I wouldn't have let such a chance as that

slip."

"Well, I know I might have taken some of it," she answered,

thoughtfully, "but I couldn't steal from him. Oh! I have mighty good

credit among people here now, for every one knows about that money, and

that I could have taken it all if I had wished. A reporter came here,

and afterward stated in the paper that there was only a small amount,

about fifteen hundred dollars, found; but I had it corrected."

She prattled on for some time about her intimacy with Mr. Trafton, until

she was interrupted by a noise in the hall bedroom. On going to see what

was the matter, she found the two bindery girls in great excitement, as

they had been awakened by a strange man in their room. Ingham also went

to the door, when Mrs. Sanford told him to get his revolver, as she

wanted to shoot any man who should try to break into her rooms. No one

was found, but the lower hall door was open, and Ingham went down to

lock it. On his return, Mrs. Sanford said that she had a revolver, and

that she knew how to use it too. It was about midnight before they

retired, but Mrs. Sanford seemed to consider it quite an early hour.

The next day Ingham was again absent until evening, and Mrs. Sanford

scolded him a little for not staying more time with her. He replied that

he had been out looking for a chance to make a raise.

"What kind of a raise?" she asked.

"Oh! any kind," he replied; "I'm not particular, provided I can get

enough to pay for the trouble. If I knew of any good hiding place, I

could get a lot of valuable goods some night without much work, and with

no danger."

"You can bring them here, and I will hide them so that they will never

be found," she replied, in a whisper.

"That will be a pretty hard thing to do, for these policemen and

detectives can find almost anything if they want to. I shouldn't like to

bring any plunder here and then have it found in your house, for you

would then be punished for receiving stolen goods.

"Never you fear about me; I know some sharp tricks if I _am_ a woman. I

can hide anything you bring, and if they get after you, I can hide you

too."

Ingham then told her about various criminal devices for obtaining money,

which he had practiced in New York several years before, and called her

attention to the ease with which they might rob strangers by the "panel"

game. She was very much interested, and said that she could easily get

hold of some fellow with plenty of money, make him drunk, and then rob

him.

"How I wish you had been here when Mr. Trafton died, for you could have

got away with ten or fifteen thousand dollars without any difficulty

whatever."

"Yes, it would have been a good chance," he replied; "but I guess we can

do nearly as well, if you will be true to me and help me."

"You can depend upon me for anything," she answered, with great

determination, but adding suddenly, in a cautious tone, "that is,

anything except murder, you know. I shouldn't like to do that. But I

would protect you even if you should kill a man--not willfully--not

willfully, you understand; but if you should be obliged to do it to save

yourself, I should not blame you very much."

"I am determined to 'make a raise,' soon," said Ingham; "but I don't

know whether I can trust you."

"How so?" she asked, as if greatly surprised.

"I am afraid you will 'give me away' to that policeman whom you think so

much of."

"You need not fear anything of the kind," she said, leaning forward, and

speaking slowly and emphatically. "I can help you a great deal, and I

would never betray you to any one. I don't think so much of Charlie as I

pretend to."

Soon afterward she had to go into the unfurnished room to get something,

and she asked Ingham to hold the light for her.

"Why can't you hold it yourself?" he asked.

"Well, to tell the truth, I don't like to go into that room alone," she

replied, trying to laugh in an unconcerned way.

"Why not? You aren't afraid of anything, are you?"

"No, not afraid; but I have never felt like going in there since Mr.

Trafton died there. I cannot help recollecting the way he looked when I

first saw him hanging over the bedside, with the froth on his lips. I

took out all the furniture on that account, but I am going to furnish

it again next week, as I can get a good rent for it."

Ingham went with her as she requested, and he noticed that all the time

she was in the room overhauling a trunk containing the things she

wanted, she was very restless and nervous. Several times when she heard

a sudden noise she would start and turn pale, as if much frightened.

Presently the two girls occupying the front room came in and said that

they should leave next day, as they were afraid of a man coming into

their room as one had done the night before. Mrs. Sanford was evidently

not sorry to have them go, and they soon went to bed.

Ingham and Mrs. Sanford then talked together about their plans for

getting money for some time. Her whole mind seemed bent upon one

object,--to obtain money; and she seemed to have no scruples whatever as

to the means employed.

"Don't you know of any wealthy fellow who carries considerable money

about with him?" asked Ingham.

"Oh! yes; I know two or three who come here to do business, and I expect

one from Canada next week. He always has plenty of money with him, so

that I have no doubt we could get a big sum out of him."

"Does he ever drink?" he asked; "I don't want to tackle a sober man, if

I can help it."

"That needn't trouble you," she replied, in a whisper; "I can give him

something to keep him quiet."

"How can you do that?" he inquired, with apparent astonishment.

She then showed him a bottle of morphine, and said that she always kept

it for her own use, and that she knew how to give just enough to produce

a deep sleep. They finally agreed to lay their plans together, and to

make a big haul at the first opportunity.

Ingham went out again on his prospecting tour next day, but when he

returned, in the evening, he had not discovered any good place for a

robbery. He told Mrs. Sanford, however, that he thought he could get a

quantity of counterfeit money at a very low price, and that they could

pass a great deal of it, if they were skillful. She liked the idea, and

said that she could pass it on a great many people who would never

recollect where they received it. She also said that she had a good

place to hide it, and that some time she would show him where she had

hidden some property, when the police were looking for it.

"Oh! how I wish you had been here when that man died with eighteen

thousand dollars in bonds in his pockets!" she exclaimed. "You could

have helped yourself to all you wanted."

"Yes, indeed," he replied, "I should have made myself rich for life."

"But could you have disposed of the bonds without being suspected?" she

asked. "Wouldn't his friends catch you if they had the numbers of the

bonds?"

"Oh! that wouldn't make any difference. There are millions of dollars

afloat of these bonds, and they cannot be traced any more than money."

"His bonds were all for five hundred dollars each, and they had little

tickets on the end, which could be cut off for the interest," she said.

"I saw them when the coroner was examining them."

"Yes, they were undoubtedly five-twenty bonds, and were worth their face

in gold."

"Well, another time, if we get such a chance," she said, "we will take

enough to make ourselves comfortable, and leave the rest to remove

suspicion."

On the following day, Ingham returned to his room at Mrs. Sanford's

about three o'clock in the afternoon, and she told him that the two

girls and Mr. and Mrs. Graves had left. She said that she had a great

fuss with the latter, and that they went away in a state of high wrath

against her; besides this, she had had a quarrel with Charlie, the

policeman, who had sided with Mrs. Graves during their quarrel. Mrs.

Sanford said, further, that Charlie had acted very meanly in not making

her any Christmas or New Year's present, and she didn't care whether he

came there again or not. She said that Mrs. Graves had left her trunk to

be called for, and that there was no doubt she had stolen some of Mrs.

Sanford's towels and other things. She then went to the trunk, opened

it, and took out a number of articles, which she said belonged to her.

She took the articles into the kitchen, and secreted them in a hole in

the floor, where she was able to take up a board. Ingham thought it

rather strange that she should hide these things, if they were her own

property, but he said nothing on the subject to Mrs. Sanford.

About five o'clock a young lady called to see Mrs. Sanford, and they

seemed very intimate with each other. When they entered the

sitting-room, Mrs. Sanford said:

"Ida, let me introduce to you Mr. Ingham; this is Miss Ida Musgrove, Mr.

Ingham."

"Mrs. Sanford has spoken of you in such complimentary terms, Miss Ida,"

said Ingham, "that I have been very anxious to meet you."

"Now, how can you be so foolish, May," said Miss Ida, addressing Mrs.

Sanford; "you always talk about me so extravagantly that people are very

much disappointed when they meet me."

"Oh! that is quite impossible," chimed in Ingham. "I am sure that Mrs.

Sanford hardly did you justice."

"I see, Mr. Ingham, that you are, like all the rest of your sex, a great

flatterer," simpered Miss Ida, who was evidently greatly pleased with

his compliments, but who wished to appear too modest to believe him to

be in earnest.

Miss Ida was a brilliant brunette of fine features and figure. She was

stylish and graceful in her appearance, and her dress showed remarkably

good taste. She was very vivacious and merry, but a close observer would

have noticed that she was not endowed with much sentiment, and a

physiognomist would have said that she was more interested in the size

of a man's fortune than in his looks or powers to please. The three

chatted together very pleasantly for some time, and when Miss Ida rose

to go, she said that she hoped to have the pleasure of seeing Mr. Ingham

again; but she did not inform him where she lived, and was apparently

rather indifferent with regard to him.

The next day Mrs. Sanford refurnished the back room where Mr. Trafton

had died, and Ingham took the room vacated by the Graveses. On the same

day, Mrs. Sanford missed her watch, and, after searching for it

everywhere, she came to the conclusion that it had been stolen. She was

greatly distressed about it, but she could not imagine who could have

taken it.

A few days after this, Ingham came hurriedly into the sitting-room

looking as if he had been running hard. He found Mrs. Sanford and Miss

Ida in the kitchen, but when the former came into the sitting-room, he

gave her a significant look, and said that he had "made a raise." Mrs.

Sanford was highly pleased, but she had no time to make inquiries, as

Miss Ida came in from the kitchen a moment later. They took supper

together, and had a very gay time, as both Ingham and Mrs. Sanford were

quite excited over the former's adventure. After Miss Ida had gone home,

Ingham gave Mrs. Sanford ten dollars, and told her that he and another

man had followed a stranger into the "Burnt District" just at dusk, and

while the other man choked the stranger, Ingham had "gone through" his

pockets. Owing to the fact that there were very few persons and no

gas-lamps in their vicinity, they had not been observed in their work of

robbery until they let the man go, when his shouts had attracted

attention. He said that some men had chased them, and that he had

escaped by running into a lumber-yard, where he had hidden the greater

part of the plunder. He said that he had obtained a roll of bills, but

that he could not tell how much money there was in all, as he had not

had time to count it. He said that he did not expect to get much out of

it, as he would be obliged to divide with his partner. The day

following, Ingham, on his return to the house in the evening, found Mrs.

Sanford standing in her room fixing her hair, while a man stood beside

her with his arm around her waist. The door of her room was open, so

that Ingham could not help seeing them, and he did not stop, but went

straight to his own room. Mrs. Sanford soon afterward came to his door

and told him that the man he had seen was Mr. Taylor G. Pratt, the real

estate agent, who occupied the back parlor; that he was one of her best

friends, and that he wanted to marry her. He had been away for the

holidays, and had only just returned. She had told him that Ingham was

her brother from Detroit, and that he was going to remain with her for

some time. Ingham was then introduced to Mr Pratt, and they talked with

each other until supper-time. Pratt was a middle-aged man, with a

mean-looking face and suspicious manner. They went to a restaurant for

supper, and the gentlemen paid the bill equally. Pratt seemed to expect

Mrs. Sanford to pay her share, and this made her angry, though she said

nothing about the matter at the time. When alone with Ingham, however,

she said that Pratt was a miserly cub, with no generosity whatever. She

borrowed five dollars from him, nevertheless, and then invented a story

about having lost the money to escape paying it back.