The watchman and southron. (Sumter, S.C.) 1881-1930, April 24, 1889, Image 1
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FROM THE DIARY OF
BY JULIAN B
-AUTKC
"The Great Bank Robbery," '
Copyrighted by O. M. Dunham, and put
the American Press Assod
New York a
CHAPTER L
THE NOLENS.
F YOU could put
on the cap of in?
visibility and sit
for twenty-four
hours In the pri?
vate room of In?
spector Byrnes at
police headquar?
ters you would
eoe many strange*
sights. Repre
j! sentati vee of !
f J? every grade of the ?
y community pass j
through those
mysterious por?
tals during the day. AlHorts and condi?
tions of men, from the depraved pick?
pocket to the cultured millionaire; all
varieties of the daughters of Eve. from
the poor vulgar trull to the refined and :
lovely queen of society. Hero meet ;
youth and age, virtue and vice, industry ;
and idleness, wise and foolish, good and j
evil. Strange events are there brought \
to light: life histories, fantastic, tragic, I
comic, pathetic, romantic, crimes start- !
ling or sordid: human passions are there j
unfolded of every species-love, hate, re- j
venge, avarice, self abnegation, ambition j
and despair, which is the death of all
passion, good or bad. And what a gal- j
lery of faces follow one another, in end- j
less succession, across the threshold- J
beautiful, hideous, sorrowful, joyful, con- !
tented, wretched, cultivated, degraded, j
spiritual, bestial And all who come have j
some story to tell, some accusation to
bring, some defense to oppose, some end :
to gain. Having said their say they dis- i
perse again-some to liberty, some to j
trial; some to death, some to victory; j
some to prisons, some to palaces. All tho j
contrasts of human existence, all its i
lights and shadows, appear in the inspec- i
tor's room, and disappear again, xthile !
you look on in your cap of invisibility.
And there, at his desk, sits the in?
spector, examining, weighing, deciding,
investigating, advising, reproving, en- !
couraging: cheerful or grave, as the case
may be, even tempered, firm, suave, I
stern, penetrating, impenetrable; the de- !
pository of all secrets, the revealer of j
none; the man who is never hurried, yet
never beliindhand; never idle, yet never \
weary; always patient, and always I
prompt No position under the munici- !
pal government requires more tact than j
nis, more energy, more courage, more !
experience. He must be pliant, yet im- |
movable; subtle, yet straightforward; |
keen, yet blunt. He must know all the j
frailties of human nature, and yet be not j
too cynical to comprehend it3 goodness;
he must be an advocate, and at the same
time a judge. In short, he must bo a
chief of New York detectives; and, what- j
ever else his office may be, it is certainly ?
no sinecure.
Of the countless dramas and episodes j
that como to his knowledge, many can- ]
not be told again; and many, if told, I
would not be credited, so different from !
the strangeness of fiction is the strange- j
ness of real life. On the other hand, not ?
a few of these tales can be repeated with- j
out indiscretion, and, in all substantial j
respects, precisely as they actually came
to pass. Such narratives have one ad?
vantage over the conceptions of the im?
agination, that they aro a record of facts,
not fancies, and carry the authority and
impressiveness of fact. But they also
labor under a disadvantage which, per?
haps, more than balances the gain of
reality: for facts are stubborn, and ac?
commodate themselves hu\ awkwardly
to the rules of artistic construction and
Bymmetry. Like rocks in a New Flag?
land farm, they are continually cropping
up where they are least wanted. And
yet it will sometimes happen that nature
so nearly accommodates herself to art
that tlie story assumes a tolerable grace
and proportion; and such a one is con?
tained in the pages that follow. But,
although the s?quence and character of
the events has been adhered to, tho names
of the iH-rsons are changed; forthe affair
took place but a short while since, and
nearly all the actors iii it aro still alive,
and several of them moviag in tho best
Bociety in New York.
? . ?...#
Mr. Bartemus Nolen was a representa?
tivo of a good "New York family, and i
was possessed of comfortable means; by j
profession he was a lawyer. Ile was a j
member of tho Episcopalian church, and
he married, at tho outset of his career, a
lady of tho same persuasion, a woman
of excellent education and gentle and
benevolent disposition. The first twenty
years of their married life passed hap?
pily and prosperously; two sons were i
born to them, and a few years later a |
daughter, Par,!i;?e. Mr. Nc len achieved
honor and eminence in his profession;
the boys did well in 6chool and after?
ward at college, and tho daughter gave
promise of singular intelligence and
beauty-a promise which was afterward
fulfilled.
But at length the current of luck took
a turn/and began to set against the
honest lawyer. He was affected with a
cataract in one of his eyes, which had
not proceeded *-r when tho other also
showed signs of being af?ected; tliis mis?
fortune was a serious drawback to his
practice, and finally compelled him to
abandon it almost entirely. Of course,
practice meant money, and the cessation
from it diminution of income. There !
was still enough left, however, to live j
upon with comfort, if not luxuriously; j
but unfortunately Mr. Nolen, being de- j
prived of his customary mental employ- I
ment, took to thinking of ether things;
aid ono of the subjects of his meditation i
was the feasibility of getting larger re- j
turns from his invested property. Among j
his acquaintance were many men whose j
trade was finance, and Bartemus got in
the habit of counseling with then? upon j
financial matters. No doubt they gave
him the best advice at their disposal; but
when one begins to buy stocks, advice 1*3
of little uso; and Mr. Nolen. after several
ups and downs, caine down with some?
what of a thump, to the extent of about
a third part of his total possessions At
this juncture he proved his exceptional
good sense and self control; for he never
risked another dollar in speculation.
Neither did he reveal the facto? his losses,
which was at least prudent. But these
virtues could not save him from being
and feeling a good deal poorer than he
was before. He owned the house he
INSPECTOR BYRNES.
AW THORNE,
ft OF
"An American Penman," Etc.
dished through special arrangement by
at ion wit>h Cassell & Co.,
nd London.
lived in, and continued to live in it; but
he curtailed his expenses, and by strict
economy contrived to render them less
than his income. Hb sons would soon
be through college, and would then, it
was to be supposed, take care of them?
selves. It was for his daughter that he
was saving, and he hoped to leave her at
least a decent fortune after his death,
But other misfortunes were in store
for him. His oldest son, Jerrold Nolen,
had graduated from college, and came
to New York to study medicine, Jiving,
meanwhile, at his father's house. He
was a young fellow of ability and agree?
able manners, and was popular among
his fellows. His father was proud of
him, and treated him with partiality. It
soon became apparent that Jerrold was
rather inclined to dissipation; his sociable
nature had its detrimental side. This
was the more unfortunate, inasmuch
as he had a tendency to heart
disease, and was of an excitable
temperament. Aa this matter will
be dwelt on hereafter, it is enough
to say here that Jerrold died under tragio
circumstances in the second year of Iiis
medical studies. His death, besides
bringing bitter grief to his father and
oioiher, led to legal proceedings against
i person supposed to have been instru?
mental in compassing his destruction
proceedings which led to no good re?
sults, and involved a large expense. Mr.
Nolen never recovered from the shock
and disappointment of his eldest son's
sudden end; and in little more than a
year afterwards the corning papers con?
tained respectful but brief notices of his
decease.
His will was admitted to probate; it
devised twenty thousand dollars to his
3on Percy Nolen when the latter should
some ef age; the remainder was settled
upon Mrs. Nolen, with certain provisos
in the event of Pauline's marrying with
her mother's approval. Percy's bequest
was intended to start him in business, ho
having shown a tendency to take up
mining engineering as a pursuit. He
too was an intelligent boy, and left col?
lege in good standing as to scholarship,
but his character resembled Jerrold's in
its lack of firmness and persistent en?
ergy; while, unlike Jerrold, he was of a
selfish disposition. After graduating
and coming into possession of his patri?
mony, he announced his intention of
postponing for a while his professional
studies and seeing a little of metropoli?
tan life. Tliis made his mother anxious,
remembering the unhappy career of her
older son, but she interpreted Percy's de?
sign in the manner most favorable to
him, as simply a wish to become prac?
tically familiar with the ways and man?
ners of good society.
Percy's original purposes may, indeed,
have contemplated no moro than that;
but that was far from being tho limit of
what he actually did. His advances to?
wards the best society were neither con?
siderable nor prolonged. For a few
months ho went to dinners and recep?
tions and danced at balls, but it ? x>n be?
came evident that ho was getting inti?
mate with a class of people who, by no
stretch of courtesy, could be counted
among the upper ten. These were chiefly
young men who dressed well, had dash
and assurance of manner and wcro com?
monly to bo met with on fashionable
thoroughfares, in tho corridors and bil?
liard rooms of the best hotels, on base?
ball grounds and race tracks, and, to?
wards the small hours of the night, at
certain restaurants and other places of
resort more remarkable for brilliance and
liveliness than for respectability, in
which the company ceased to be ex?
clusively masculine and was yet not im?
proved by the alteration. Percy had his
choice, and tliis was thc class with which
ho choso more and more to associate.
They were, as a class, not wealthy; nev?
ertheless to be with them was not neces?
sarily to be economical; neither did it
involve regular habits or early hours.
Beforo long Percy was convinced that
tho sort of life ho was leading was not
compatible with making a homo under
Ids mothers roof; so he took bachelor
rooms on the west side of the city and
went to bed and got up at what o'clock
it best pleased him. He did not keep
away from home altogether; he would j
drop in now and then, when nothing else
was going on, sometimes to lunch, some?
times to dinner, sometimes to accompany
his sister to the opera or theatre, but ho
had cut loo?o from his mother's apron
strings and showed no present signs of
meaning to come back to them. Ho was
living a fast life, and not thc best kind of
fast life either.
Ono of the executors of Mr. Bartemus
Nolens will was Judge Odin Ketelle, a
gentleman who had at ono period been a
partner of Nolen's, and had always re?
mained on intimate and friendly terms
with tho family. He was a man of po?
sition and inlluence, and was quietly and
steadily amassing a large fortune. Mrs.
Nolen, ia her anxiety about Percy, nat?
urally turned to this friend for counsel;
and probably sbo could not havo done
better if she were to do anything. Tho
judge heard her timid and fond com?
plaints, in which she tried to shield tho
son whose misdeeds she was forced to
expose. When she had finished he sat
with his hands folded on the table and
his eyes under their thick eyebrows fixed
in thoughtful contemplation as he had
been wont to sit on tho bench when con?
sidering soinu point of law advanced by
comise 1.
"If a boy wants to be a fool ho mostly
succeeds in his wish," he remarked after
a while, "Percy has a good deal of un?
tamed blood in his composition, and he
will probably work it off in his own
fashion. His father gave him his money
without conditions or restrictions. hop
ing that the sense of responsibility would
soi>er him; but it will need more than
that. He will spend it-that is, throw it
into the gutter-and then we may look
for the dawning of reason in li itu. "
"I am sure he is a good boy," said his
mother. "Ho is only full of life and
thoughtless. "
"There is no reason to suppose him
actually vicious," the judge replied,
"and, that being the case, we may ex?>ect
that tho want of money will bring him
to terms. I do not look to see his father's
son commit any act that will bring him
under the cognizance of the law; he is, 1 <
take it, incapable of any dishonesty; !
consequently, when he becomes hank- I
rapt, he must do one of three tilings: j
either he will sit down and starve like a
gentleman, or lie will find some employ?
ment that will give him a living, or he
will come back to you, like his prodigal
prototype in Holy Writ"
"Percy star vol Oh, judge P faltered
Mrs. Nolen.
"Do not be uneasy; Percy will not
starve," returned he, with a slight flavor
of irony in his tone. "Ile is not natu?
rally disposed to asceticism, nor has he
tho kind of pride that would prompt him
rather to die titan betray signs of human
weakness. On the other hand ho is
clever and quick, and could easily pick
upan honest livelihood in other ways
than by pursuing his project of mining
should he find it necessary to forego
that. But my own anticipation is, my
dear Mary, that he is too lazy, and that
his habits of application, such as they
wero, Jiavo become too much broken up
to make that course likely. What I do
expect is that ho will come back to you
and ask you to provide for him."
"That is all 1 ask!" Mrs, Nolen ex?
claimed.
"1 have no doubt of lt, my dear," an?
swered the judge with a smile. "But in
this connection there is something that
I wish to impress upon you very strongly.
Do not, as you value hi3 ultimate wel?
fare, not to speak of your own, give lura
any money without first consulting me.
If you fail to observe this precaution, de?
pend upon it you will get into trouble.
I know what young men are, and how
they regard their mothers-as just so
much indulgent soft heartedness to be?
taken advantage ofl No, it isn't cynic?
ism; it's the truth; and so you will find
it. Now, what Percy needs is thc con?
viction that thero ?3 no choice for him
but to work. So long as 1? thinks that
he can be supported without working he
will remain idle. It may be hard for
you to refuse him, but unless you do you
will only work him an ill turn. You are
not a rich woman by any means. Bar
temus-it is as well you should know it
now-lost a large part of his fortune by
injudicious in vestments; and when you
take out of that the sum*secured to Pau?
line as her dower-a sum which, fortu?
nately, neither you nor she can touch for
three years to come-you will have left
barely enough to live comfortably on.
As for Percy's twenty thousand, we may
look upon that as being as good as gone;
it is only a question of time, and no very
long time. Until it is gone it is no use
attempting to influence him. So much
for that! But now, my dear Mary," con?
tinued the judge, changing his tone, "I
wish to speak to you on another matter
of no small moment to you, to myself
and to Pauline!"
CHAPTER LL
SUITORS.
RS. NO LEN'S
face, which had
assumed an ex?
pression of pen?
sive and brooding
sadness, bright?
ened at her
daughter's name,
and she looked up
at the judge with
an expectant air.
"Pauline is now
eighteen years
old," tho latter
observed. "As 1
look back, it
seems impossible,
but so it is. 1 re?
member lier asan infant lying in your
arms; and it does not seem to mo that 1
have clanged much since then. And yet
Pauline is a woman, and has more char?
acter and substance, too, than many a
woman of twice her ago. What miracles
time works!"
"She is tho best girl in the world!" said
tho mother tenderly.
"I am much inclined to agree with
you," responded the judge.
"She is so strong, so clear sighted, BO
faithful and upright," pursued Mrs.
Nolen. , "And yet there is nothing cold
or unsympathetic about her. When her
emotions are touched, she seems al! fire
and spirit. I am su rc no sister over loved
her brother, nor any daughter her moth?
er, as Pauline loves Percy and me."
"I can well believe it. And have you
ever seen signs in her of another sort of
love-not that of the daughter or thc sis
terr ,
"Oh, I am afraid to think of that!** re?
turned MTS. Nolen, pressing her white ;
hands nervously together. "It is 60 easy
for a girl to make a mistake; and for her
a mistako would be fatall"
"I think she has good sense enough
not to fall into any serious error," 6aid
tho judge, "though 1 am no less per?
suaded that, if she wed a man who in
himself was worthy of her, she would
allow no considerations of merely selfish
prudence to prevent her union with him.
But 1 was going lo ask you," he added,
with a certain subdued anxiety in his
deep toned voice, "whether it hos come
to your knowledge-whether you have
any reason to think that she has.airead}'
met any ono who-whom she would be
likely to prefer to any ene else?"
"I have not thought of :t-it has not
occurred to mc!" said Mrs. Nolen, with
au accent of apprehension, looking at tho
judge with wido open eyes.
%,It is hardly too soon to take such a
possibility into consideration," ho re?
turned. " f'auline is mature for her age;
and it is not too much to say that she ia
one of the most beautiful young women
in New York. You take her a good deal
into society; she can hardly fail to meet
with admiration."
"Yea, yes, you are right,*' said thc
mother. "Now that you speak of it, 1
see that such a thing may happen. But
sho has sjK>ken to me of no otic, and I
am sure she would have spoken if"
"Do not trust too much to that," he
interposed. "A young girl, with n mind
as healthy and pure as hers, does not
readily ask herself if ?lie l>e in love; she
may l>ecomc so U-fore she is aware of it.
and only the avowal of her lover will
open her pyes. Till then you cannot ex
pect her to speak of it to you. And then,
if she have made Up lier mind, it would
be too late to speak."
"But would you advise me to question
her? Might it not suggest to her some- j
thing which she otherwise would not
have thought of?"
"That is not improbable. But why not j
approach the matter from the other sill???
Is thero no one among the young men
who know her who ??ave shown signs of
any particular interest in her?"
"Th-vail seem to ml i ri ire her." said |
Mrs. Nolen. "But 1 can 11 . ink of no (?nc
in particular-unless if be-Percy'sfriend.
Mr. Martin."
?.Valentine Martin-the young I'.ng- j
lishtnan?"
"Yes. Percy sometimes brings him
hera But his being a friend of Pe rev ?
* 1
makes a difference between lum and the ?
others."
"How so?"
"In tim fact of his being hero oftener, j
I mean, if it were not for that i should j
Think his visits had some further signifi- j
canee."
"l am not altogether convinced that
his being a friend of Percy woura a
prive Iiis visits of significance," said ti
judge. "It ia conceivable, at any rat
that ho might have made a friend <
Percy in order to facilitate his access 1
Pauline,"
"He seemed a frank, straightforwai
young man, not one you would suspe<
of doing anything underhand."
The judge laughed; a very low, plea;
ant laugh ho had, which made those wt
heard it disposed at once to like hin
"You are moro like a nun, in your ur
suspiciousness and unworldliness, tha
like a married woman who goes in NV
York society," said he, "Let me assui
you, my dear, that a man in love is u<
to be held a criminal, or even a hyp<
crite, if he uses some strategy to get nee
the object of his affection. I should foi
give Mr. Martin even if he went so fa
as to pretend a cordiality for Percy tha
ho did not really feel, if so he might ir
duce Percy to admit him to the intimac
of your household. No, if we aro t
take exceptions to him, it must be fror
another standpoint. What do you kno\
about his personal history and his socis
standing in his own comitry?"
"I suppose it must bo good," eaid Mn
Nolen. "I think lie said that his famil;
owned a large estate in Cumberland."
"Is he the eldest son?'
"The next to the eldest, I behove."
"And what is his business in Amer
ica?"
"I don't know. But a great many En
glish people come here nowadays, yoi
know. It is a part of their education.
"Yes; but some of them are prett;
well educated before they get here," re
marked the judgo dryly, "and occasion
ally they manage to teach os something
before they leave. There is in Eugiam
the same difference between an eldes
son and the other sons that there is be
tween a rich man and a pauper. By tin
law of primogeniture the estates, an(
generally the bulk of tho money, goes t<
the first born; tho other boys get posi
tions, if they can, in the army, the ci vi
service or the church. They are Beldon
fitted to enter the learned professions
and it is not considered good form for i
gentleman's son to go into trade. 0:
course tho army and the church don';
afford accommodation for all applicants
and tho consequence is that every year ?
number of young Englishmen arc throwr
on the world, who by training and inclina
tien arc good for nothing but to be idl(
and ornamental, and who nevertheless
havo no means for honestly leading sucl
a life. They form a class of gcntlemar
adventurers. They are men of agroeabk
manners and culture, talk well, loo!
well, are excellent at cards and billiards,
and live no one knows-how. Some ol
them come over herc for reasons knovr
only to themselves; they are very pleas?
ant acquaintances, but it is well not to
trust them too far. They have no fixed
place in tho world and no responsibility."
"You don't mean that Mr. Martin is
an adventurer?" demanded Mrs. Nolen,
in a voice of faint consternation.
"So far as I know ho may bo the l>est
fellow in England. But I know nothing
about him ono way or the other. How
did Percy become acquainted with him:'
"He met him somewhere-at some
club, I imagine."
"That may bo all l ight, or it may not.
At all o vents, you will see that you should
proceed with some circumspection. The
rules that apply to our young men do
not necessarily apply to foreigners. Mr.
Martin may bo much better educated,
and havo more polished and quiet man?
ners, than mne out of ten of your Amer?
ican acquaintances: and yet it might be
better that Pauline should marry tho
least attractive of the latter than Mr.
Martin."
"1 wish you would seo him and find
out whether ho is nice." said Mrs. Nolen,
with anxious earnestness,
"I would willingly do so., but for one
reason," tho judge replied, "and that is
that thc peculiar circumstances might
disqualify me from forming an unbiased
opinion."
"Oh, I am not afraid of that. My hus?
band used to say tliat there could be no
ono more impartial and just than you."
"Even assuming that judgment of hts
to have been impartial, 1 should nev?-r
theless be disqualified from presiding at
a trial where, for instance, the prisoner
was charged with the murder of some
friend of my own."
*'I do not understand. Mr. Martin
has surely not murdered any one?**
"Bless mo, nol I was only using an
extreme illustration. But Mr. Martin
might wish to obtain something which I
had sot my own heart on y-ossessing."
There was a manifest embarrassment
in the judge's manner. Mrs. Nolen
looker) puzzled. She l>egan to suspect
there was something behind all this, but
she could not divine what it was.
"I began life pretty early, as you
know," continued he, after a pause.
"Since the age of 14, I believe, I have
supported myself. Measuring my exist?
ence by that standard, 1 might i>e called
an old man. But though, in the matter
of years, I am not exactly a boy. yet 1
am but 43 years old, and you will admit,
my dear, that men have !>een known to
live a good deal longer thai; that."
"I am sure you will live to be twice
4'V put in Mrs. Nolen kindly.
"Half that is all I would ask, if I
might realize the happiness that 1 hope
fwr." returned the judge, with a faint
smile.
"And is tliis happiness anything that I
'jan help lo insult; you?"
"1 can hardly say that. In fact, it is
essential in one way that it should come,
if come at nil. as freely and spontane?
ously as thc sunshine from heaven Nev?
ertheless, I am under obligation to spca!:
to y<?u of my hopes, that you may ap
preciate my position and understand my
conduct." lie stopped, and the color
mounted to his face. "1 love Pauline,"
he said, a strong emotion vibrating in
his voice. "1 hope to make her love me
and to accept me for her husband."
"Oh, judge;" exclaimed Mrs. Nolen.
taken wholly by surprise. Sho looked |
at him intently fora few moments, and j
then tue startled look in her face soft- j
ened. and sho bogan to smile. She left j
her -.-hair, and, coming to where he sat, I
put a hand upon his shoulder: und as lie I
looked up ut her she bent down and
kissed him upon tho forehead. She was
still smiling, but there were tears in lier
eyes.
"Do you think me absurd?" said the
judge.
"1 think you are right," was her reply. J
"At first I coulu not believe- 1 had al- j
ways looked up to you us lo a sort of ;
elder brother -I could not imagine you j
as the husband of my little daughter- ?
my own sou in-law. But I think you ;
aro right. Paulino is a little girl no j
longer; in almost everything but years
she is older than I; she is titted to be the :
wife of a man even so much older than .
herself as you ure. No one of her own !
age would suit her as well."
"Then you will not be against me?" ho [
said, starting up.
"Indeed. I will not All that 1 clo shall j
bo done for you." She put her hands in i
his, and lie graspcJ them warmly. "Ii1
is more than half selfishness in ruc,' she
added. "It would give rae some right
to rely on you. I should not feel so
lonely."
.However this may turn out, always
know that you may rely on me," the
judge returned, with deep feeling. "Our
friendship began long ago. Mary, and
doesn't need any other tie to bind it. If
Pauline, when tho question 13 put before
her. decides against rae-and I am fully
aware how easily that may Ins her ver?
dict-I shall accept it like a man, and
you will rememl>er that, so far as I am
concerned, it will involve not the slight?
est change in my devotion to you and
yours. I shall leave no honorable mcan?
untried to win her; but, above al! things,
I desire to avoid forcing her inclination,
either by any act of my own, or through
you. Tliat you should approve of my
purpose is all 1 ask. Leave tho rest to
IVovidence, and to her."
"I understand," said Mr3. Nolen, "and,
indeed, if I wished to help you, I should
not do it by singing your praises to her.
You being what you are, the best thing
to do ?3 to leave her to find you out for
herself.*'
"If Mr. Martin be my rival," resumed
the judge, "let him have his chance and
defeat mc if he can. If he bo the better
man it wiil appear; and God forbid tiiat
I should make her my wife knowing that
she would have been happier with an?
other. Put if love go for anything, I
love her well, and in all my life she is the
first end only woman I have loved."
"You might have rivals more danger
ous than Mr. Martin," returned the
mother, with another smile, and so the
interview came to a close.
Cn.VPTER III.
MRS. CTTHBSRT TUNSTALL.
??S?3 VENTS X7CTe
r vttp, shaping t ii e ra -
igfc sj selves for disas
X?? **?? tCT: 1)1111 for the
gm ' seemed to go
Ij?^^^?^ri^B brilliant career,
K^v^an(^ attained a
p certain dist in c
yL?gL? tion among the
^3^^*^^^plT persons with
whom he assoc*
ated. fie was a
big, handsome youth, with broad shoul?
ders and sturdy limbs, a clover boxer, a
good whip, a fair billiard player; his
spirits were exuberant, and he had more
mental resources and ideas than are
vouchsafed to the generality of young
gentlemen of his kind. Thus he assumed,
to some extent, the position of a leader
among them; and, as he was unifonnly
good natured and yet not to be imposed
upon, he was liked and not laughed at.
But his favorite companion and friend
was Valentine Martin. The two men
were nearly tho same age, Martin being
a little tho elder, and were a good deal
alike in size and personal appearance.
Martin, being English, wore sido whisk?
ers, and Percy, being American, wore a
mustache. Martin was inclined to be
fair and Percy to be dark; but they
might have been taken to In? brothers.
The Englishman, however, was of a
somewhat gloomier temperament than
the American; more reticent and more
given to moods and ineq uah ties of tem?
per. Ile liad brought with him several
good letters of introduction and ha 1 duly
delivered them, but he had a', ailed him
self but sparingly of the social courtesies
extended to him, seemiug to prefer a less
formal and regular lifo. Ht* made no
pretense of large wealth, but, on the
other hand, he never seemed to bo
cramped for means, and no one could Ix?
found from whom he had !x)rrowed
money. If he were a trifle mysterious,
nobody was concerned to fathom his
mystery, for it was no one's interest to
do so. Valentine Martin had not come
to America to speculate, to organize a
company, to raise capital, orto do any of
those things that are apt to render en?
gaging foreigners suspicious in our eyes
lie had apparently come to amu?ie him?
self and mind his own affairs; and after
a time he was permitted lo follow this
innocent inclination. The upper ten
whom he neglected, ceased to lake un
active interest bi him, and those wi;h
whom he associated relinquished the
vain effort to persuade him to reveal his
secret, and came to the sensible conclu?
sion that there was probably no secret to
reveal
The acquaintance and subsequent
friendship between Martin and Percy
Nolen iiad sprung up spontaneously.
without an}7 formal introduction. They
had tastes and ideas in common, and thev 1
.
mutually pleased one another Martins
was perhaps the stronger character, hut 1
Percy's was the more enterprising and
lively: so that they were upon fairly
even terms. One day the Englishman
accepted an invitation lo come and take
afternoon tea at thc Nolens*; he met
Pauline on that occasion, ami it was not
afterwards necessary to urge him to re?
peat his vi<it. Pauline was interested in
him asan Englishman, and after discuss?
ing his native country with him ad?
mitted him to a certain degree of friend?
ship, partly on lier brothers recommen?
dation, partly on his own account, ile
seemed gloomy at times, and she was
sorry for him, without knowing or even
caring to inquire v> hat made her so. At
oilier times he conversed in a manner j
that interested her and stimulated her to
talk tn return: and. though Pauline was
but a girl, she had a mind that was worth l
coming in contad- with. The English- !
man never made any direct demand ?
upon her sympathies or emotions, and I
probably he gained rai lier than lost by I
this forbearance. When a woman has ;
insight she would rather exercise her in- |
tuitions than ha'.e things explained to !
her.
Matters went 0.1 in this manner for j
severa, months, and tho year's vacation j
which Petey had allowed himself was ?
more than up. lie had as yet shown no .
sign ot being hunk ru pt, unless a certain j
abstraction ot' manner at times accom- ;
panicd by a biting of his nails, and a
drumming with ids foot, might be con- !
strued as symptoms of approaching im- '
pecuttiosiiy. But another ali air, not ; ?
connected with finance, was going cm at
this period which, unless put an end to
betimes, might result in trouble. j 1
There wasa young married woman in 1
New York soviet} named Mrs. Cuthbert ,
Tunstall, lier husband, also you;:;:, had
inherited from his father an immense
business in coal. Cuih'.vrt Tunstall was
fond of activity, and he plunged into his
coal with hearty g?x?d wit!, intent upon
creating a fortuno lu ice as large as that
which his father had left him. As a
matter of course, and of necessity, he
was absent all day at his ofiice, and was
often obliged to run down to I lie mines
to oversee things there in person. ;
His wife was the daughter of an aris?
tocratic MnickerlxK ker family; she had
been a reigning belle in her coming out
year, and the year following the match '.
between ber and Tunstall had been made.
She ?ked her husband, l>ecause ho was a
good fellow, because he was In love with
her and tjecau.se lie was considered a big
catch; but she cared nothing for coal, ;
and was jealous of Iiis devotion to it. j
She wanted him to be devoted to her j
and to nobody else. She hated to think
of him working-actually working-all j
day long. Ho came home to dinner, it ;
was true; but ho was not fond ot dining ?
out, and when dinner was over, ho was j
tired, and liked to stay quietly ai home i
and go to l)ed at haff past 10. Such an |
existence as this was tho next thing to j
unendurable to a woman like Sylvia i
Tunstall. Forty years hence, perhaps,
this Darby and Joan kind of life might
Ix? practicable; but not now, in the flush !
of youth, variety and curiosity! She?i.>
solutely would not stand it:
Tunstall was a manly, straightforward, !
singie hearted fellow, and at first he did I
not comprehend his wifu's attitude. He j
had homely ideas of married life, and j
the routine of social dissipation was
without attractions for him. When at
last ho learnt how matters stood, he
thought it overhand carno to the conclu?
sion tliat his wife liad much reason on
her side. She was young, good looking
ail? full of the wine of life, and it was
only natural and proper in lier to wish to j
see and to be seen. So he liegrm by at?
tempting to "go out" with her; but he .
presently discovered tha? going to bed at |
3 o'clock in the morning was not com- j
paliblc with having breakfast at half- i
past 7. ile then tried giving dinners
twice a week and a reception once a
month; but Sylvia pointed out to him
that the customs of good society de?
manded that they should accept invita?
tions as well as give them; so that his
second state bade fair to be even worse
than his llrst. What was to be done?
He would not consent to give up his busi?
ness; on that point he was firm. Sylvia
was equally convinced that it was im- |
possible to give up society. For a time |
ther? threatened to lie a deadlock. . I
Finally a compromise was effected.
Sylvia had relations and particular J
friends who were in society, and of
whose escort and countenance she could ]
avail herself. Her husband could take
her to places and her relatives or
friends could bring her home again. Hy
degrees i : was found unnecessary to have
him take her. and she both went and re?
turned without him. His anticipations
of domestic felicity were disappointed;
but Sylvia was enjoying herself, and he
always looked forward toa time when
?he would weary of gaye: y and return
to him. il. loved lu i as much as ever,
and was proud of her social popularity;
he had perfect faith in Ucl truth and
honor. He ale his clinnei and went
To lied alone, and when l?e rose in the
morning he was careful not to awaken
Iiis wife. That was the style of the
menage.
But Cuthbert Tunstall was not a fool
a fact which his wife perhaps failed to
fully appreciate. As long as her conduct
was above reproach, according to tho
somewhat vague standards of society, he
would not interfere with her pleasures;
but he was not the man to permit the
least step beyond this. And though he
was naturally unsuspicious, and slow to
wrath, any one who understood men
would have known that it would bo un?
comfortable to arouse him. But Sylvia
got the idea that she could do exactly as
she pleased, and she did it.
One day Tunstall got a hint from some
precious friend of his-a very distant,
indirect, ambiguous and innocent hint,
buta hint all the same. He appeared
not io understand it, and passed it over
without comment; but the repressed
emotion which it aroused was so strong
that he came near fainting where he
stood.
ile attended to his business the same
as usual, returned home at his customary
hour and sat down to his solitary dinner.
His wife was upstairs dressing. By and
by she came down to say good-by to him
for the evening. She was beautifully
dressed and was lovely to look upon.
Cuthbert looked at her in silence.
"Good night, dear," she said, drawing
on her gloves. "I suppose you won't l>e
up when 1 come home."
"Not if you come at your usual time.'
.*I wish you'd drop your horrid busi?
ness mid come with me."
"1 am more useful as 1 am. Do you
know a gentleman by the name of Percy
Nolen?"
"Percv Nolen? No-yes-I believe
I do." "
These were her words, but lier face ann
the tone of her voice betrayed her, and
they both knew it.
"Ile is an agreeable follow, isn't he?*
pun ned tho* husband, quietly.
"I suppose he is like the rest; all men
are alike to mc-except you, of course,
dear! Dat why do you ask?'
"Some one wh 'mows him happened
tc mention lum k. v. Well, and what
is going on to-night:'
"Dine at Mrs. Murrav's, and then the
theatre."
"Won't you want something to eat
w hen you get home?"
"Oh. no. Don't bother. I shan't bo
hungry."
"lt might be better to order something
to be ready for you here than to ta ky
supper at Dehnonico's," he said slowly,
looking lier in the eyes.
She turned away her eyes after a mo?
ment, ostensibly to pull up her cloak.
"1 had no idea of going to Dehnonico's,''
che said, in a slightly strained voice.
"Of course not!" he repeated; and
then he turned to his evening paper, and
she went out. with a smiio on her lips
and fear in her heart.
Her husband had given her warning,
and he hoped against hop- 1 that it would
be sulucient. He would not take the j
next . tcp unless sin? eompci.vd h?m .to it;
but he was resolved (and she partly felt
it) that the next step would be llnaL
How much lie actually know of her fiir
lation with Percy sh? could of course i
only conjecture. She liad t ikon supper
with him m a private room of a fash
ipiial le resta armit the night before. They :
had not been alone; there had also been j
present another young married woman, j
and a young man not married. But the I
two couples had not been in each other's j
way: they had rather helped each other ?
out. lt was certainly not an altair which !
Sylvia would have wished to have gen- j
e.rall v known-least of all to bo suspected j
by her husband Did he know about it? ;
or had his questions been only tho result j
of clamce? She wished to believe tho
latter, but she could not.
Aflorad, she did not seriously care for |
Percy Nolen. li had iieen a mere ll i rta
lion for pastime. She had not supposed ?
that her huslwnd world care much, even j
if he knew. He had not of late betrayed ?
any very passionate affection for her. If ;
he loveil her. why did he not accompany j
her on her social rounds? lt was vi.?icu- j
lons to say that lie was obliged to attend
to his business. They had plenty of
money without any business. There was
nothing except his own obstinacy to pro- j
vent him from retiring to-morrow and ?
nc ver going near hisofnoe aga-a. But
if he preferred his business to his wife,
why could bc not ali ow hu wife her j
H!
preferences? It was unjust and tyran -
nicaL
Nevertheless, if he was determined to
he ugly about it. of course, there must be
no scandal. She would telj Percy, th3
next time she saw him, that the ac?
quaintance must cease. It was co? worth
while to run any risks on his account.
Having made up her mind to tius, she
was more at ease. * .
After the second act at tho theatre,
Percy Nolen carno into her box. She
greeted him coldly, but he sat down be?
side her, and began to make various ?>**>
positions. She repulsed him, but not
very vigorously. At last she wluspered:
"You must really lie more careful! Peo?
ple are beginning to observe us. If any?
thing should happen, I would never for?
give you!"
"I will take every precaution, but-I
love you!" he replied in her ear. lio had
never said so much before, ami the
turned pale and j;avo ]x;m a took.
The curtain went up on tho next act,
showing how the hero, by a combination
of circumstances, was arrested and taken
to police headquarters.
CHAPTER IV.
KEEDS'MTST.
VBGZ EETEL-i
LE'S prophecy
was delayed: but
it came trae at
a s t : and Mrs.
Noion did not
:eop her promise
to him.
One morri mg
Percy came io tht*
liouse, and came
up to his mother's
boudoir, where
else was sitting
re a d i n g Tir.
Shorthousc's ro?
mance of "John
Inglcsant." Mrs.
Nolen was not given to reading fiction as
a rule; but Mr. Sborthouse was under
stood to be a religious writer, and she
enjoyed his book very much without en?
tirely understanding it. Percy kissed
her, and sat down in a chair opposite.
After a little desultory conversation he
said, "Mother, I'm in a scrape!"
Her heart sank; she closed her book,,
and folded her hands upon it. "Oh, my
son!" she said, falteringly.
"Well, it's nothing so very dreadful,**
he returned, forcing a smile. "I was up
at Monmouth Park the other day, and
lost a little money-well, it was a pretty
good sum. for me. I'm not a Croesus,
you know, and a few thousand dollars
makes a difference."
"Monmouth Park? What is that?"
"It's a track; they race horses there,
you know.*'
"Percy, have you been betting on
horse races?"
"Mercy, mother, it's no crime! All
the fellows do it. I should look queer if
I didn't chip in with the rest! Only this
time I happened to get in pretty deep;
and as all the favorites were beaten I
got badly left,"
"Do you mean that you lost all the
money you wagered?"
"Every cent of it; you never saw such a
run of bad luck in your life. The trouble
was, I made up my mind to win anyhow;
so each time I lost I put it allon the next
race, so as to get back what was gone,
and mere into the bargain. It was as
good as certain that I wouldn't lose every
race, you see. So when it came to the
last I had a big pile on; ?nd it was voted
a sure thing. I believe it was the jockey's
fault, after all. Anyhow, he lost the
race by a short head: and if I hadn't
had a return ticket I'd have been obliged
io walk heme."
"Ail your money gene! Why, my
son, if voa had invested it, you might
have lived comfortably on thc interese of
it! And your father gave it to you to
start you ia your profession. What can
you do?"
"Well, mother, I must do the best I
can. I know it's all wrong, and Fm
very sorry and all that. But it's no use
crying for spilt milk. Fm in a hole and
I've got to be helped out cf it somehow!"
"I wiil speak to Judge Kerelle and seo
what"
"Whatever you do. don't speak to
Judge Ketoile! Ile can do no good, and
would be certain to do a lot of mischief.
What business is i: of Judge Keteile's
anyway?"
"Ile was appointed executor under tlio
will and"
"Thai is no concern cf mine, mother!
My interest in the will ceased when I
got my patrimony. I have no further
relations with the judge nor he with me.
lie has no right to help me, even if ho
wanted to, which he doesn't."
"My son, he the best friend I have,
and whatever is for our good"
"My dear motlier. I teil you it won't
do! I know what tile judge would say,
and after he had said il I would ??e no
better oil than I am now. 1 have some
pride, and I don't want all tho world to
know that I'm a b ggar. I shouldn't
think vtai would, either."
'.percy, you know i wish nothing but
your good, bat -
"Tac long and short of the matter is
cha* unless 1 am to t>e disgraced i must
haw some money, and without any de?
lay, too. I owe a few bills-they don't
amount to much-and I tiras: have a lit?
tle to go oil with. A thousand collars
would cover the whole thing. You can"
let me have it. can't your"
"A thousand dollars! But after that, ?
Percy? You will be wanting ?aoney ail
trw time, and this cannot goon forever."
"it isn't going on forever. Hus is tho
first time 1 have ever asked you fora
cent, mother, and it snail bo the last.
Heaven knows it was hard enough to
have to come to you at any rate; but I
didn't expect you would make it harder
by arguing ab?u? i:!"
"My dearest boy. y* a mig?t have all I
possess, so far as 1 am concerned"
"Who else is concerned except you? a*
thousand dollars isn't going to ruin you, .
motlier, but ii t- ruin to me if I don't get
it. And. don't fear I s?mil bo coming to '
you again. ! am gobi:; to stop the kind
o? a life 1 lan e been living tho last year
and turn over a new leaf. I have several
opportunities to get positions in the city,
and 1 am going to set to work at once .
and find out what will be thc best tiling.
As soon as 1 am in a place where 1 cart
turn around I shall put in my spare time
studying up ?ny mining, and bet?re an?
other year is out 1 shall be ready to ac?
cept an engagement. I can support my?
self as well as the next man-and make
a fortune, too! But I don't suppose you
want to seo me miss all that for tho sake .
ol ;i paltry thousand dollars?"
Thc en 1 of it was that Mrs. Nolen gave
him a thousand dollars. She tried to
make harm promise that Ito would come
and live under her-own roof, but he put
her off with a temporizing reply, alleg?
ing, in no very logical vein, that; he cid
not wish to make himself a burden to,
her, but when he got "rixed" ?o that ho.
could pay lier for his board and lodging
ho would come with pleasure.
The request indicated that getting fixed;
was an operation, that required time.
The fact was that Percy paid sums on
tiONTUCCEB OS F0?ETK PIGS.