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RPNB SYNOPSIS. PART I.?Robert Hervey Randolph, young New York man-about-town, leaves the home of his sweetheart, Madge Yan Tellier, chagrined because of her refusal of his proposal of marriage. His income, HO.OOO a year, which he must surrender if a certain Miss Imogen Pamela Thornton (whom he has seen only as a small girl ten years before) is found, is not considered by the girl of his heart adequate to modern needs. In a "don't care" mood Randolph enters a taxi, unseen by the driver, and is driven to the stage door of a theater. A man he knows, Duke Beamer, induces a girl to enter the cab. Beamer, attempting to follow, is pushed back by Randolph and the cab moves on. His new acquaintance tells Randolph she is a chorus girl, and has lost her position. She is in distress, even hungry, and he takes her to his apartment There, after lunch, a chance remark convinces him the girl is the missing Pamela Thornton. He does not tell her of her good fortune, but secures her promise to stay in the flat until the morning, and leaves her. In a whimsical mood, also realizing that the girl's reappearance has left him practically penniless, he bribes the taxi driver to let him take his job, and leaving word with the legal representative of the Thornton estate where he can find Pamela, takes up his new duties under the name of "Slim Hervey." He loves the girl, but his pride forbids him approaching her under their changed conditions. PART II.?One evening he Is engaged by Beacher Tremont, notorious profligate, to drive him and Madge Van Tellier to a hostelry known as "Greenwood." Aware of the evil nature of the place, Randolph drives the pair to Greenwood (jemetery. Infuriated, Beacher gets out of the cab and Randolph leaves him there, taking the girl (who has awakened to a realiza tion of her folly) to her home. Madge recognizes him, PART III.?In Randolph's apartment Pamela, pondering over the strangeness of tlie night's adventure, realizes she Is very much more than interested in the young man. Next morning Mr. Borden Milyuns, her family's legal representative, Informs her of her inheritance. Learning that her acceptance of the money will leave Randolph penniless', even the furniture of the apartment belonging to her, she proposes to divide the inheritance with him. Mr. Milyuns tells her Randolph is unlikely to agree to such an arrangement, even if found. He, however, agrees to do his utmost to find the young man. Wide advertising and the employment of detective agencies fail to accomplish this. Madge Van Tellier tells Mr. Milyuns of her encounter with Randolph. Knowing only that he is driving a taxicab, Pamela sets out to find him. The search naturally is a long one, but finally she comes upon Randolph in front of a hotel. Unseen by him she enters his cab, but when giving the starter her address Randolph recognizes her voice. The streets are slippery with snow, and In his excitement he smashes the cab against the curb, throwing the girl out PART IV.?Stopping only to see th&.<t Pamela is unhurt Randolph flees from the scene. While he is explaining his mishap at the office of the cab company Mr. Milyuns appears. After much persuasion Randolph agrees to call on ! Pamela nine days after that time. He Also announces his intention of accumulating $100,000 in the interval, and arranges to drive a cab on the Wall Street beat There, as he had hoped, he picks up a "tip" on the market His entire i capital being in tne neignoornooa or *i\j , he goes to one of his clubs and sits in a j poker game, trusting to chance to secure a stake that will enable him to play the "tip" he has secured. He is lucky and runs his capital up to an- amount sufficient for his needs. His inside information on the market proves correct and he closes the deal with the sum he had de- j cided It" was necessary to have in order to meet Pamela on a footing of equality. ! Punctual to the minute he calls on the | young lady, who had awaited his coming with impatience, and at the close of the interview there is no question of the division of the inheritance?or the apartment "Now, Robert," said the legal personage, apparently quite oblivious of the desertion of his supports, "I just want to talk with you. May I sit down?" "Certainly, Mr. Milyuns," said Robert, apathetically. "Excuse me," murmured Mr. O'Shaughnessy. "Did I, or didn't I get the name correct?" "I beg your pardon, Tourke," said Robert, "Mr. Borden Milyuns; Mr. Tourke O'Shaughnessy." He pronounced it "O'Shockenssy," to the delight of the owner's ears, long unaccustomed to the correct intonation of the exotic patronymic. "T did hear correct." said Mr. O'Shaughnessy, as he rose and tiptoed from the room. "I leave you gents to your family affairs," he added from the door, his eyes drinking a last view of the brain king he had dared to call a runt. During the next half-hour, Mr. Milvuns delivered himself of an assorted lot of special pleading that he could have sold on the market almost any day for fifty thousand dollars, but the sole judge and object of his efforts still sat swinging one putteed leg in midair, as though fanning aside the valuable streams of golden words, and continued putting at one cigarette after another, each lighted from the butt of its predecessor. "Its no use, Mr. Milyuns," said Robert, at last. "The truth is, and you know it, that a meeting between myself and Ram?Miss Thornton, at the present time and under the exceptional conditions, could only bring about complications beyond the capability of any one of us_ to handle. Her pro pe 3S-JW/II- CQfflMY | posal that she divide her income with I me is so absurd that I am amazed at your imper?at your hardihood in even mentioning it" I Mr. Milyuns wiped his brow for the first time in many years. "I don't mind you calling me 'impertinent,' Robert," he said meekly. "Call me anything you please. Only" ?and his voice rose gradually to a surprising volume?"don't forget that I promised one of the dearest, most unspoiled, lovable, and wholly adorable young persons that it's ever been j my privilege to assure of the impossible that I would bring you to her, ! and, by the holy mackerel, I will?if | I have to hold you by one ear with J my teeth." Mr. Randolph took his latest ciga! rette from his mouth during this strictly illegal peroration, and allowed his lips to spread into a broad smile. "Mr. Milyuns," he said, "I always | did like you; now I've got a deeper feeling. They call it love. I admit to the human end of you that the only thing that keeps me from rushing straight away to call on the lady you have so accurately described is the fact that I haven't money and she has." ! "But what about the job I offered you?" interjected Mr. Milyuns. "I was coming to that," said Mr. | Randolph. "I'm not keen on charity from you any more than from Miss Thornton, but?more than that?I wouldn't burv myself in your stuffy old skyscraper at any cash price known to man. In the first place, you belong to the most unoriginal of all professions, and, in the second, you make money too slowly." " 'Make money too slowly!'" gasped Mr. Milyuns, forgetting Bobby and Pamela and their affairs for the first j [ time in three weeks, and rememberj ing, for a change, and with a twinge of his hardened conscience, the size j of his last retainer. "Ha!" But Mr. Randolph allowed him no time for indulgence in vocal mirth. "That's what I said," he continued, unmoved. "To meet Miss Thornton face to face and unashamed, I feel that I must have a capital of at least a hundred thousand." He sank his head in thought for a moment When he raised it again, the widely placed blue eyes were I there. So was the saddle of faint freckles across his nose; so was the guarantee of honesty across his open face, but superimposed over all was a new look of sudden resolution. "You will please tell Miss Thornton," he resumed, "that I shall do myself the honor o. calling on her one week from the day after tomorrow at four in the afternoon. There is a condition, however, and it is that I be left alone without any mental reservation by her and you and your agents during the intervening time." "One hundred thousand in nine | days," murmured Mr. Milyuns skeptically. His great brain hung poised in i thought for some time, hut finally he nodded * his acceptance of Robert's i terms of capitulation and promptly left : the room. Mr. O'Shaughnessy presently re! turned and found his favorite driver i sunk in strenuous reverie. I "Well. Mr.?er?Robert, are you goin' back to the folks?" i Mr. Randolph raised his head and | smiled. j "Call me 'Slim,' please, Tourke? I 'Slim Hervey,' for awhile yet. I've decided to accept your offer of another I wagon for a week or two?that is, if ' you realize you'll be doing me just a plain, unornamental favor." I "Sure, kid!" said Mr. O'Shaughnessy, flushing, as does all his kind on j the verge of gratitude. "That's all right." "Thanks a lot!" said Mr. Randolph. "And do you mind if I take the Wall ; street beat for a while? I need | money." "Why, Slim, what's got ye? Ye know that's the rottenest short-run stand in town. Now, ef it's money you want?" Mr. O'Shaughnessy reached slowly down into his capacious trousers pocket, his eyes, meanwhile, ! studying Mr. Randolph's physiognomy | with a shrewd glint that had fore1 stalled many a clever attempt at a I . * - , toil en in yearn j;uiic i>j. ' "Yes, money," said Mr. Randolph pensively; "a hundred thousand dollars' worth." j Tourke's face underwent a startling j change, as though it had tumbled down a whole ladder of emotions until it landed with a jolt on a solid platform ; of infinite pity. "Take any beat ye like, boy, while j ye c'n hold the wheel," he said, at j the same time jambing the brakes ! down bn^his too generous hand. ""Xi? be sure your ol' frien' Tourke ain't goin' to forget to come to the hospital to nee vou"?he finished almost with a j sob?"often." I For five restless, heart-breaking | days, Mr. Randolph and his cab were | at the beck and call of every short horn curb-broker that wanted his j friends and customers to see him start I away from the scene of others* labors | in a taxi. The vast assurance that had | graced him when he allowed Mr. Mili yuns to infer that nine days was plenty I in which to pick up a hundred thou: sand dollars and that had also tinged I a remark made some weeks before to ! a Miss Madge Van Tellier to the efi feet that the great thing nowadays ! was to avoid having too much money i had been gradually worn to a ragged I frazzle. Mr. Randolph was on the point of trying to persuade himself that he was j giving way to the too constant strain I ?.r>fVirvr? flion fn ontr rlofopt in hi"? ohil | iauivi LliUll tv MUJ UV4.VVW +M.+ r | osophy of the easiness of wealth when | an excited and hatless elevator boy ! rushed up and said: ! "Here, youse! Mr. Embonpoint Morgum's car has froze. Ring your ol' i fire alarm." Mr. Randolph almost knocked over a | fare that was attempting to get aside. "Engaged!" he growled, a9 he stooped to "turn her over." Five minutes later, his cab was car; rying, in the persons of Mr. Morgum, | above mentioned, and another, the poI tential pivots of very tight-vested ini j .. "Good Idea! Friday It Is." I terests to the tune of twelve billion | dollars. It may be thought that It was | Slim Hervey's intention to waft this i precious pair to some bosky retreat. | cover them with leaves, and hold them for ransom, but such was not the case. He desired nothing from these two potentates among a race of lucre giants beyond what might come to him through his ever-open speaking slot ! This is all he heard: [ "Lewisfader is getting kind of | fresh." "That's what I been thinkinV "When?" "What about Friday, when the Bun| kers-Bollweevil report comes out?" "Good Mea! Friday it is." Not another word, but, as it happened, it was enough to stnrt Mr. Randolph honking uptown the moment he had dropped his laconic fares at their I next board meeting. No one had to | tell him who Lewisfader wa9; he had | been to college with that financier's I son, and if there was one thing above j all others that said offspring was good i at, it was blowing his father's horn. | Lewisfader was this and Lewisfader was that, but principally and especial! ly he was the central rock in the money ! maelstrom known to the stock market ((4 1 TO p. n >? V>Q^ nnl v MS XlIUcll. X. o. w V^., V> U1VU UUU lately dared to swell its portentous belly in the company of the most developed and vicious saurians of the I financial world. i ? _ j All the way uptown, Mr. Randolph's j face was concentrated in the nearest j approach to a frown of which it was | capable. He was not, however, weighing the substance of what he had heard this way and that, for the simple reaI son that the moment the one word, | "Lewisfader," had reached his ears, he | had seen the great light and grasped j his hunch beyond any thought of look| ing back. That part of it was settled; I what worried him now was the amount ! of ways and means in his pocket. By j thinking very hard, he added up his | capital" without bringing it forth to the j light of day. The exact sum was six! ty-eight dollars and fifty cents, j No sooner had he passed the test in | mental arithmetic than he drew up a | little beyond the front door of the Rocki et club. He started to leave his cab, j paused, considered, and then deliber! ately lowered the flag. As he entered j the lobby of the club, four scandalized j fronts leaped to bar his way. They ; asked him a variety of biting ques! "hm ho think ft wns a night j liVUO JLy*u A4V __ w j lunchwagon? Which chambermaid i was he calling on? Was he looking for i Mills hotel? I "Herbert!" roared Mr. Randolph, j The functionary named, head door: man for the Rocket club since first it started on its appropriately meteoric career, leaped from his dignified feat on the somnolent side lines and stared I wide eyed at the servile apparition j that had dared shout the open sesame i to that inviolate portal. I "Mr. Randolph 1" he gasped at last, and the stunned fronts started to slink | away. I "Hold on, there!" said Mr. Randolph, and divested him.fetf of cap to one, ; overcoat to another, gloves to the third, - and asked the fourth for a light "Her j bert," he continuedT in" modulated i I tones, "the cab outside is waiting for ! i Mr. R. H. Randolph. It may be there I for some time. Have an eye kept on | it." | "Yes, Mr. Randolph, m see to It, j Mr. Randolph. George, Mr. Randolph's ; letters." | "Never mind the letters;" counter- ! manded the oft-named one, and pro- ; reeded to thread his way to a certain small room strategically placed well ^ j within the depths of the edifice and far from the maddening tumult of the i streets. The said apartment at the moment of his arrival contained five j j occupants seated round a circular table j of convenient height and clothed In j pale green, kindest of all shades to the ' eye of man. There were no mirrors j on the walls, i Mr. Randolph's entry was greeted j first with consternation and then with ! shouts. i "Bobby, you old scout!" , "Herv, by great halls of sweat." ! "Randy. from where the devil?" The speakers arose and pumphandled Mr. Randolph's arm. ! "Ye gods, man, where you been? i Strayed in from a fancy dress?*' | "Never mind the glad rags, fellows," said Mr. Randolph. "I was just feeling lonely for the sound of chips. Room for another?" "The surest thing! You don't know these two chaps, do you? Mr. Seegar, passed on to us from 'Frisco, and Mr. Bowling-True, our latest new member. Gentlemen, this is Mr. Randy Randolph of New Haven and New York, in disguise but still the best ever." i "Table stakes?" murmured Mr. Randolph, as he took his place, apparently at random, but at the left of the two comparative strangers. ! "Of course! Same old ante. Same old game. You talk as though you'd been away for a month." For a moment, but for a moment only, Mr. Randolph was dazed. Was it possible that the last three weeks hadn't been a year? He drew out his sixty-eight dollars and fifty cents nonchalantly, as though they were merely j the loose change he had on his per- j son, bought fifty in chips, and laid the j small heap of what was left of his j cash on the board. The strain on liis ! nerves during the next half-hour put j that of the five days' wait for a hunch j ? ? o +/-, tVic hlncVi ThPTP ' ULI Lilt* oucci IU uic 1'iuun. , came a moment when all his chips I were gone, and he was forced to see with a full house for his small pile of change only. "Serves you right, Randy," said Mr. Mein. "For forgetting to pile up the ready in a table-stake game; there are two and a half million walking the streets?" "Oh, stow it!" murmured Mr. Randolph, as he counted out his share, I amounting to ninety-two dollars and i fifty cents, and pushed across "the rest of the fat pot to the next best hand. He looked up and smiled. "Boys," he remarked frankly, 'Tin riding a hunch with four legs. Watch me." Five spectators did, but got little excitement of their pains. Mr. Randolph was playing that most difficult and uninteresting of poker corollaries ?a tight game. Mr. Seegar turned imI patient as the conviction grew upon him that he had run up against the original hard-shell who never drew to less than a pair of tens, never bluffed, and could surrender three kings without a sigh to a low straight unseen. He began to make facetious remarks in connection with the safety-first Campaign which was then at its height Mr. Randolph nursed his pile through five long hours up to eighteen hundred dollars. Then it was that he suddenly met a raise of two hun dred on the part of Mr. Seegar, tacked on three hundred more, waited for that Individual to throw in his very good hand, face up, with the resigned smile of a wise one, and then carelessly displayed in the same manner, his own three-flush, so bohtailed that the attention of the S. P. C. A. should have been called to the case. ! The roar of laughter that went up from all but Mr. Seegar was more full and free than even such occasions usually produce. Mr. Mein pounded : Mr. Randolph on the back. 1 "Bobby, old boy," he said, "that was the eternalest, patienfest, and deepestlaid trap I've ever witnessed in a lifelong pursuit of the only national pastime!" ! The light merely flickered in Mr. Randolph's blue eyes, and he returned | to his old job of sawing wood. Not . for nothing had he made that grandstand flourish, and his object had been ; gained. A new seriousness, masked in cold-edged, classic poker smiles, settled upon the table as a whole. The ; idea that they were gathered together j merely to while away an idle evening faded into the background, and, one by ! one. like stars coming out at evening ; time, supper trays began to make their ; appearance. All but Randolph, they j had been toying with poker; now they j began to play it. i ! That gentleman continued for the j nonce the even tenor of his stride exj cept for a Lenten concession to his insides. He ordered placed on a stand at his elbow a large jug of ice water and a platter containing four dozen ! sandwiches. No added touch could have done more toward nersuading his friendly antagonists that he, Randolph, was out for thick blood. If any one of the five had joyed in the knowledge that two slices, thin, of buttered bread embracing a sliver of meat had been named eternally after the earl - - . . oi sanawien on jusr sucn an ei?uuiai occasion as this, lie would probably have seen the high sign and beat it t for home and bed. ! Night was fast joining the discard when the weary Herbert dared to interrupt. "Please, Mr. Randolph, the officer on the beat says the grass is lifting ?1 'The Officer on the Beat Says the Grass Is Lifting Your Cab, Sir." K air oriH Ho tHnna-Ht- Ho tVUUI V,UUf Oil j auu uv aav ought to report anything like that." "Tell him to undo the check and let it feed itself down again," growled Mr. Randolph. The day passed; night fell. Now one and then another of the six devotees of a science which even in the youth of this nation had forestalled all the wonders of the submarine, the flight of man, and wireless telegraphy withdrew just long enough to connect with the Daily Night bank round the corner or some other convenient base i of supplies and returned to set new money to catch old. But Mr. Randolph had no occasion to do this. His heap of chips and cash of the realm rested on too solid a base of its own. There may be recorded an amusing diversion from the serious business in hand. It was ushered in by the crestfallen Herbert, who confessed that actual physical/exhaustion had driven him to forty winks, during which time a professional purloiner of motor-car accessories had stopped, spellbound by the gigantic sum registered on Mr. Randolph's taximeter, had promptly stolen the preposterous clock, and was now on the club steps offering to settle with whoever was the interested gent on a fifty-fifty basis. Great was the consternation of the enterprising speculator in theft when he was confronted by two persons in one; I namely, Mr. It. H. Randolph, lessee ! of Car No. 1898, and Mr. R. H. Ran| dolph. alias Slim Hervey. the irate driver of said cab. His glib tongue, loaded to the gills with arguments as to how much the fare would save, ! through the sudden exit of the clock from the ken of man, tripped hopelessi ly on this vision of wrath in the shape ! of a driver in whose interests the tick[ er had been faithfully slaving. It took Mr. Randolph just thirty-two precious minutes to force the crestfallen one to replace and readjust the busy bee of meter readings. When he returned to the fray upstairs, he noticed a strange phenomenon of poker? age, unmistakable age, had settled or [ the faces of the five youths. He pu. ! his fingers to his own countenance; he could feel the added years. The game ended, as do all titanic battles, in absolute silence. Mr. Randolph sorted, stacked, tabulated his winnings, and stuffed them into all the pockets on his person. He then noted the hour?eleven o'clock of a bright Thursday morning?and, proceeding to the nearest telephone booth, called up Mr. William Verries of Verries & Cat, stock brokers. "That you, William? This is Bob Randolph. William, I've got sixteen thousand dollars in my jeans at the moment of speaking. What's the lowest margin you'll give me to sell Amal. I. S. & C. short for delivery at tomorrow's closing?" "Sell Amal. I. S. & C. short!" gasped Mr. Verries. "Why, you're crazy! Buy, and I'll talk to you." "I don't want to buy," said Mr. Ran I dolph patiently. "You're rignt, in a way, about my being crazy. You see, since you saw me the other clay, I've come into some easy long stuff, and it's just ruining my experiment in the philosophy of a moneyless life. I want to lose ray wad just like I told you, and if you don't promise to start selling for me inside of the next five minutes, I'll let friendship slide and call up some real brokers." "Well, if you put it in that way, you escaped loon, I'll assist your sap-headed philosophy to your exact cash limit When will you pony up?" "In twenty minutes by the clock," said Mr. Randolph cheerfully, and rang off. The historic pounding drive on Amal. I. S. & C. that started with the opening of the market on the following day was of such Homeric proportions that the advance sale made by j Messrs. Verries & Cat on behalf of Mr. R. H. Randolph during the Thurs- i day afternoon next preceding was a I mere drop in the bucket of oblivion to | I the public at large?a mere flea-bite j j lost in the shuffling of epidermises to j j the monster saurians involved in the j j combat; but to Mr. Randolph, it was a | I matter of transcendent importance. With a feeling of great relief over an order that he had placed with his tailor nine days previously for complete new afternoon and evening outfits, the successful hunchbuster collected one. hundred and thirty-two ? % thousand, thirty-eight and no hundredths dollars and proceeded to turn in his wagon to the Village Cab company, together with the highest clock reading ever known in the history of Manhattan. He then chartered one of the vehicles for hire of that concern and directed it to carry him to his new clothe* At ten minutes to four, he emerged from his tailor's, garbed in the very latest thing in slim-line morning coats, a top liat, pearly-striped trousers, spats, a mottled, platinum-handled, snakewood stick, and a gardenia in his buttonhole. Ignoring the wise and friendly-sneering look on the face of the cab driver, who was none other than our old friend of saturnine visage, Patrick O'Reilly by name, fallen on evil times, and re-engaged that very day on Mr. Randolph's recommendation, he gave a certain address in Fifty-ninth street. Let us now break one of the cardinal rules of narrative for cash by ruthlessly switching the objective point of view. Behold Miss Imogene Pampifl Thornton dressed in a ravish lng, modestly modern tea-gown effect that would have cost her great-greatgrandmother a ducking in the pond off Bleecker street if she had dared to wear it in her day at a fancy-dress ball, pacing up and down Mr. Randolph's recent sitting room and counting off nine on her fingers for the hundred and eighty-sixth time. And then, at last, the bell! Tomlinson, his jaw set grimly, advanced upon the door. For an agonizing i "Wo-won't You Sit Downf small moment, Pamela held htr breath, and then let it go with a rush as she heard the old valet's sonorous voice tinged, nay, reeking, with the joy of welcome. "Glad to see you back, Master Robert. Miss Thornton will receive you In the sitting room." Followed jingling sounds as Tomlinson disconnected the doorbell. He was right in surmising that his former employer did not require a suide, but, as it turned out, there was no reason why he sho.uld not hav? witnessed the very proper meeting which took place between the two outwardly cool young members of society who were inwardly, nevertheless, seething with more emotions than there are fume* in a lime-kiln. "Miss Thornton!" exclaimed Mr. Randolph, as, from force of long _ habit, he laid hat, stick and gloves on a side table and then advanced with a tentatively outstretched hand. "Oh, how do you do?" asked Pamela, rising and offering her hand. "Wo?won't you sit down?" "Thank you; I will." He took the other end of the couch, crossed his legs in an effort to appear thoroughly at home, and gazed almost ' furtively at the apparition before him. Ye gods and heaps of daffodils! What a vision of loveliness, of charm, grace, breeding, carriage and nurtured beauty! What a bubbling well of mirth; what a source of the light of youth that never fails; what an armful of divine delight! "Er?I?er?told Mr. Milyuns Td nail" sflid Mr. Randolph. "Yes?"* eagerly countered Miss Thornton. "Er?I?said I'd be here at four," supplemented Mr. Randolph. "Yes; he told me," murmured Miss Thornton, not quite so ardently. "Er?it's just four now," stated Mr. Randolph. "So it is," agreed Miss Thornton quite coolly, glancing at the clock and registering surprise?tone quite calm and dignified. A long silence intervenes. The lady could easily break it, but won't. She has gathered somewhere that silence is often a club. Mr. Randolph evidently shares the intuition; he must say something and does. "I've been very busy since I saw you last." "How Interesting!" "Yes; it has been?in spots. I've? er?been studying the under side of the upper world througn a noie xu mc front glass of a taxi. It has given me a great idea." "Really?" "Yes; I'm going to start the Manhattan Chaperoned Cab company." "The what?" asked Miss Thorntop, forced to show interest in the preposterous project in spite of the fact that her eyes were growing more and more wounded and the corners of ?er treni