Omaha Daily Bee Newspaper, December 28, 1902, Page 18

T ———— empe—— 18 TRICKS WORKED BY WAITERS Methods Employed to Give Favorite Ous- tomers the Best of the Feed. COURTESY YIELDS HANDSOMELY IN CASH Wealthy but Objee Diplomatieally D of-Town ble People d 0f—Out- Pulled. NEW YORK, Dec. 27.—The man in the rough tweed sult searched one pocket after another. A deep flush showed under his neatly cropped side whiskers, and he raised his eyes to meet those of the expectant waiter. “I'm hanged cents and some ‘L' tickets. check book, by George.'" The walter bowed obsequiously and muc- mured: “That's all right, sir. next time you come in, sir. “Take my card to the head waiter, or the cashier.” “Not at all, sir. Entirely unnecessary. You are Mr. Blank of the National Secu- rities company. It is all right, sir. The attendant held up his customer's overcoat, and then, with a polite bow, opened the door for him. This ceremony over, he marched back to the table and warried off the soiled dishes with the air of a conquering hero. From his point of view the waiter had scored a triumph. He had performed a #trvice which cost him nothing and which meant much to & man whose tips had al- ways been libéral, And he had tickled the customer's pride by showing him that while they had never exchanged a word of personal conversation, he had discovered the customer's name and his financial standing. It is a brand of flattery which the clever down-town walter keeps always on tap. A Waliter that is Worth Momey. The head waiter, who had witnessed the incident, had this to say: “A walter like that Is worth money to us. He knows his place and keeps it, yet, is observant and can give us polnts on all his regular customers. Now, had Mr. Blank been called upon to explain his position to our cashier, he would have settled his account by sending the money by messenger, but I hardly think he would have patronized the restaurant again. The memory of today's contremps would have embarrassed him. The walter's quick wit saved him any annoyance and won for us a good customer. “Why could the waiter do this without consulting his superfor? Simply because he works on a percentage. - So much of each order charged up to him remains in Efs pocket. It is his commission, fn leu of a salary. Many of the best restaurants in the financial district their walters & cbmmission Instead of a salary. It is to the employers' interest to do so. A walter who works on a commission, if he is at- tentive and keen at making up menus, will increase his commission at the expense of bis customers, to be sure, but he makes business brisk. “For instance, a nervous, over worked man whose digestion is out of order com in with no definite idea of what he want Before he is fairly seated at the table he has some papers spread before him, and the introduction of a mend as a highly irritating interruption. Your ob- servant walter knows this and discreetly puggests something particularly delicate and appetizing, selected from the entrees or game ligt, The customer nods his head, t:a the waiter continues to bulld up a incheon that sounds good, the customer not even looking at the price list. His check may surprise him at the end of the meal, but he does mot complain because the lunch has tasted good and he feels better than when he came in. The waiter 1s an artist at menus and knows how to lne his own purse. Little Tricks of Favored Walters. “Business’ men who want the best ser- yice usually, patronize one cafe quite reg- llarly and bhave thelr favorite walter. Thelr tips may not be so large as those of some transient customers, but the waiter learns to depend upon them as part of his steady income. In comsequence, the regular customer gets more than a polite bow of Tecognition and prompt attention. In fact, he secures small favors which he does mot fully realize and which the un- Initiate never receive. “For instance, when he orders oyster his attendant, appreciative of rs and hopeful for the future, does not send this order to the kitch He orders raw oysters and carefully mixs “the cocktall sauce himself from condi- ments selected from the dining room table. What difference does this make? All the difterence in the world to the connols- seur in shell fishs Oyster cocktails mixed in the kitchen as a rule contain ‘seconds’ Instead of ‘firsts;' in other words, oysters that are smaller than those served on the half shell. The condiments in the kitchen are also ‘seconds,’ while only the best sauces and favorings are set forth in the dining room., That is just one of the. reg- ular walter's tricks to favor the customers be likes. “The waiter's great ambition s to estab- fish and hold & line of customers. Whe 1 worked in an uptown cafe where table d'hote dinners and theater suppers are Reatures of the trade, I remember one aiter who was often driven to his wits' end to accommodate his regular customers. He had charge of three small tables, and it weo could have given him assistants, I belleve he could bave filled one side of the Qining room with people who liked him to serve them. Patrons actually walted half an hour to secure a place at his table. “Did we raise his salary? That was not necessary. His customers saw to that. We pald him §7 a week. His income ran from $30 to $40. And he earned it. What the D fe Walter Does. “This waiter was a born diplomat, and we turned cranks over to him as & matter of course. A restaurant crank i& a char- acter worth studying. He will try waiter after waiter until he finds one who suits bim; why, no one, the waiter least of all, can understand. By some miracle, tl waiter happens, in a lucky moment, to please the man either by tricks of serve ing or by tickling his jaded palate with some happy combination of dishes. And from that moment the crank s converted. He swears by this waiter, and swears after another fashion it his favorite is mot on hand when he arriyes. Trifies like pneu- monia or appendicitis cannot excuse his sbsence, and rather tham be served by anyone else, 1 know one crank who seeks another restaurant until his favorite re- turns, calmly informing us that all the it I've anything but 10 Not even my Tomorrow—the quious or 1 hat and pulls out your ctair with a eertain gleam of recognition in his eye, but, you may choose to pass the time of #ives you just the right sense of import- snce, then gstops. And he never forgets mhn!la dish, your particular brand tizer you will have. It is his provimce to remember all these things. “I was told by a gwell-dressed woman the other day that when she came down town she always lunched here with her hus- band because, as she explained it quite naively, her husband's walter always re- members hor fondpess for brandled cher- ries. She nayer drinks cocktafls, but onee in the prosence of this waiter she remarked that she would Iike to take them just for the sake of the cherries. Now whenever the wife accompanies her husband, the waiter thoughtfully adds a couple of extra cherries to the cocktall, and these the wife carefully fishes out with & toothpick. When the husband comes alone, he takes his cock- take of giving him cherries. There s al- ways & twinkle in the man's eyes when the cherries appear, but Harry knows better than to recognize the humor of the situ- ation by so much as a smile. Objectionable Customers Got Rid Of “A diplomatic waiter fs useful to us in many ways. He can sometimes rid us of undesirable customers. It would surprise you to learn of the anmoyance we some- times suffer at the hands of people that we dare not order from the place, because of their standing, social or financial. Then we try the diplomatic or ingenious walter. “Last summer a man of considerable wealth and eccentric habits came here each day for lunch. He sat at that small ta- e opposite you, and the first thing he did after sitting down was to take off his shoes. There he sat day after day, with one shoeless foot resting on a stool and stuck out in full view of our other customers. The matter called forth unpleasant com- ment, but we did not know what to do. “Finally one of the waiters remarked: ‘I you agree to stand by me I'll get rid of that man.' We agreed, and the next day Gascon came down the aisle with a cup of coffee in his hand. Just before he reached the man ‘with hf¥ shoes off he stumbled adroitly and the coffee fell upon the protruding foot. The man gave & howl, then subsided into abusing the waiter, Gascon had been caretul to chill the coffee until it was only luke warm, but the man awore roundly that his foot.was soalded and he would sue the proprietor. He shoved aside his luncheon, jerked on his shoes and departed, without settling his account. We never saw him agaln and we don’t know to this day whether it was corns or cussed- net . Working the Out-of-Town Man. ‘““The out-of-town man who entertains at dinner or lunch is fair game for the waiter who is up to all vorts of tricks. This type of customer feels it {ncumbent upon him to show the men who are his guests that he has brought a goodly roll into town with him. He picks up the bill of fare with the air of one to whom money is no object, and the observaft waiter, who spots him on the instant, assists in an artful way in making out the order. He 1is all attention to the selections made by the patronm, but he slyly suggests certain dishes in his own interes! For Instance, after the oysters and the sOup your out-of-town nian selects a heavy roast and orders a beef or portion for each person, at perhaps 60 cents per order. Now, the waiter, better versed in the appe- tites of city men, knows full well that four orders of turkey will not be consumed, so he sends ta the kitchen an order for two or three at the most. The order for four is charged up on the guest's ticket, however, and the walter pockets the difference when he settles with the checker for his day's orders and receipts. This, of course, is possible only when the waiter pays the bills. Were the customers to pay the hier the trick would be detected and the firm would make the profit. However, most managers wink at the trick and do not begrudge the waiter his extra money. “If a walter works this schemé on the roast, the game and the salad, he cleans up a neat sum on ona customer alone, who is none the wiser and is entirely satisfled it the service is good and the wines cold. ness Women at Lunch, ““It 1s a mi to think that elderly men are the heaviest spenders, particularly in the business district. Young men are more extravagant. Considerable entertain- ing is done down here at noon. Wholesalers take women buyers from out of town to lunch, brokers sometimes entertain the women who handle stocks through them and good-looking young women employed in offices are frequently the noontime guests not only of their employers, but of other men that they meet in a business way. “‘These lunches for two play a big part in the business world, and they have made me realize how important a role a discreet woman clerk plays in her employer's af. fairs. I have heard many a big deal dis- cussed across our tables, and the women who come here are as keen and alert as the men who employ them. . “You can tell what thew relations are the instant they settle down for lunch. A man makes the presence of his wife an ex- cuse for laylng aside business questions. He really entertains her, and they study the menu carefully with a view to enjoy- ing themselves, If a man and a woman are lnterested In the same business the lunch is & secondary matter and they plunge into business before the waliter has finished writing out their orde: “Personally I regard these lunch confer- ences as bad for the digestion and the gen- eral health. Business men and business women should have lunch clubs and drop business until they return to their offices. But you can’t change the leopard’s spots nor the habits of the American in busi- ness.” MUST PAY FOR A BOYCOTT Brickmaker at Hobart, Indiaus, d Verdiet for Dam- CHICAGO, Dec. 27.—A verdict having a slgnificant bearing upon the right of labor organizations to maintain er assist in enforcing a boycott was rendered today in Judge Vai court, whereby George Hinchliff was awarded $§22,000 damages agaiust the members of the Chicago Masons and Builders’ association and the Brick Manufacturer's association. Hinchliff asked for $100,000 damages, which he alleges he had sustgined owing to & boycott of the product of his brick yards at Hobart, Ind., on the part of the associations mentioned, in 1898. —— EVIDENCE POINTS TO MURDER Miner in the Wilkesbarre District is For Dead on the Rail- roud Track. WILKESBARRE, Pa., Dec. 27.—The find- ing of the body.of John Weeks of Pittson on the Lehigh Valley tracks points to a murder, there being ne marks on the body such as would have been evident bhad Weeks been killed by the cars. Weeks worked during the coal strike and bad been repeatedly thréatened with bodily harm and his house, was one of tho many dynamited. He was a witness before the strike com- misslon. For these reasons suspiclons have been aroused. —— Howard Will Command Nevada. WASHINGTON, Dec. 27.—Commander Thémes B. Howard, now on duty &t the Naval academy, has been selected to com- mand the new monitor Nevada, which 1s THE OMAHA DAILY BEE: NDAY DECEMBER 1902 28, (Copyrighted, 192, by T. C. McClure.) CHAPTER XVIL Discusves Several Matters. Reader, T know that what I have”nar- rated is astounding. It astounded me just as it astounds you. There are moments when one's brain be- comes dulled by a sudden bewilderment at sight of the absolutely impossible. It certainly seemed beyond credence that the man whose fatal and mysterious wound I had myself examined should be there, walking with his wife in a lover-like atti- tude. And yet there was no question that the pair were there. A small bush sep- arated us, so that they passed arm-in-arm within three feet of me. As I have already explained, the moon was so bright that I could see to read; therefore, shining full upon their faces it was impossible to mis- take the features of two pérsons whom I knew so well. Fortunately they had not overheard my Involuntary exclamation of astonishment, or if they had, both evidently believed it to be one of the many distorted sounds of the night. Upon Mary's face there was re- vealed a calm expression of perfect con- tent, different indeed from the tearful coune tenance of a few hours before, while her husband, gray faced and serious, just as he bad been before his last illness, had her arm linked in his, and walked with her, whispering some low, indistinct words, ‘which brought to her lips a smile of perfect felieity. Now had I been a superstitious man 1 should have promptly daclared the whole thing to have been an apparition. But I do not belleve in borderland theorles, any more than I believe that a man whose heart is nearly cut in twain can agaln breathe and live, I could only stand aghast, bes ‘wildered and utterly dumbfounded. Hidden from them by a low thornbush I stood there in silent stupefaction as they passed by. That it was no chimera of the imagination was proved by the fact that their footsteps sounded upon the path, and Just as they had passed I heard Courtenay address his wite by name. The transforma- tion of her countenance from the ineffable pleture of grief and sorrow to the calm, 8weet expression of content had been marvelous to say the least—an event stranger indeed than any I had ever before witnessed. In the wild writings of the old romancers the dead have sometimes been resuscitated, but never in this work-a-day world of ours. There is a finality in death that is decisive. Yet, as I here write these lines, I stake my professional reputation that the man I saw was the same whom I had seen dead in that upper room in Kew. I knew his gait, his cough and his countenance too well to mistake his identity. That night's adventure was certainly the most startling, and at the same time the most curfous that ever befell & man. Thus I became selzed with curlosity, and at risk of detection looked out after them. To betray my presence would be to bar from myself any chance of learning the secret of it all; therefore I was compelled to exer- cise the greatest caution. Mary mourned the loss of her husband toward the world, and yet met him in secret at night—wan- dering with him by that solitary by-path along which no villager ever passed after dark, and lovers ided because of the popular tradition that a certain unfortunate lady of the manor of a century ago “walked” there. In the fact of the mourn- ing'so well feigned I detected the conceal- ment of some remarkable secret. The situation was, without doubt, an ex- traordinary ome. The man upon whose body I had made a post-mortem examin: tion was alive and well, walking with his wite, clthough for months before his as- sassination he had been a bed-ridden in- valld. Such a thing was startling, incred- ible! Little wonder was it that at first I could scarce belleve my own eyes. Only when I looked full into his face and recog- nized his features, with all their senile pecullarities, did the .amazing truth be- come impressed upon me. Around the bend of the river I stole stealthily after them, im order to watch thelr movements, trylng to catch their conversation, although, unfortunately, it was in too low an undertone. He never released her arm or changed his affection- ate attitude toward her, but appeared to be relating to her some long and inter- esting chain of events to which she list- ented with rapt attention. Along the river's edge, out in the open moonlight, it was dificult to follow them without risk of observation.. Now and then the elder bushes and drooping willows af- forded cover beneath their deep shadow, but in places where the river wound through the open water meadows my pres- ence might at any moment be detected. Therefore the utmoet ingenuity and cau- tion were necessary. Having made the staggering discovery 1 was determined to thoroughly probe the mystery. The tragedy of old Mr. Courte- nay’s death had resolved itself into a ro- mance of the most mysterious and start- ling character. As I crept forward over the grass, often on tiptoe, so as to avold the sound of my footfalls. I tried to form some theory to account for the bewilder- ing circumstances, but could discern abso- lutely none. Mary was still wearing her mourning, but abuut her head was wrapped a white silk shawl, and on her shoulders a small fur cape, for the spring night was chilly. Her husband had on a dark overcoat and soft felt hat, of the type he always wore, and carried in his hand a light walking stick. © Once or twice he balted when he seemed to be impressiag his words the more foreibly upon her, and then I was compelled to stop also and to conceal my- selfl. 1 would have given much to over- hear the trend of their conversation, but stfive how I would, I was unable. They seemed to fear eavesdroppers, and only spoke In low, halt,whispers. I noticed how old Mr. Courtenay kept from time to time glancing around him, as though in fear of detection; hemce I was in constant dread lest he should look be- hind him and discover me slinking along their path. I am by no means an adept at following persons, but in this case the stake was so great—the revelation of eome stdrtling and unparalieled mystery—that I strained every merve and every muscle to gonceal my presence while pushing forward after them. Pleture to yowrself for a moment my position. The whole of my future happl- ness and consequently my prosperity in life was at stake ats that moment. To clear up the mystery successfully might be to clear my love of the awful stigma upon her. To watch and listen was the only way, but the difficulties in the dead silence of the night were well nigh in- jurmountable, for I dare not approach sufficiently near to catch a single word. 1 bad crept on after them for about a mile, until we were approaching the tumbling waters of the welr, The dull roar swal- lowed up the .sound of their volces, but it assisted me, for I bad no further need to tread noiselessly. little white-washed house wherein the in- mates were sleeping soundly, they made & wide detour around the meadow in order to avold the chance of being seen. Mary was well known to the old lockkeeper, who had controlled those great sluices for thirty years or more, and she knew that at night he was often compelled sitting on the bench outside his house, smoking his short clay. 1, however, had no such fear. went past the house and continued onward deep shadow of the alders, which effectually concealed me. . The pair were walking at the same slow, deliberate pace beneath the high hedge on the further side of the meadow, evidently intending to rejoin the river-path some dis- tance further up. This gave me an oppor- tunity to get on in front of them and I seized it without delay, for I was anxious man whom I had believed for months to be in his grave. Keeping In the shadow of the trees and to be on duty and might at that very moment be Stepping lightly upon the grass beside the path I| by the riverside, passing at once into the | to obtain another view of the face of the | woman as fondly in love with a-man as she | 18 with Ralph is apt to throw discretion to the winds,” the woman observed. | “Recollect that the breach ‘between them is on our account, and that a word from her could expose the whole thing, and at the same time bring back to her the man tor whose lost love she is pining. It is be- cause of that I am in constant fear.” Your apprehensions are utterly ground- | he declared in a decisive voice. She's the only other person In the secret | besides ourselves, but to betray us would | be fatal to her.” “She may consider that she has made sufficlent self-sacrifice?"" . “Then all the greater reason why she | should remain silent. She has her repu- tation to lose by divulging." \ By this argument she appeared only half- | convinced, for I saw upon her brow a heavy, thoughtful expression, similar to that I had noticed when eitting opposite her at dinner. The reason of her constint preoccupation | was that she feared that her sister might give me the clue to her secret. That a remarkable comspiracy had been in progress was now made quite plain; and | turther—one very valuable fact I had ascer- tained was that Ethelwynn was the only | other person who knew the truth, and yet dared not reveal it. This man who stood before me was old Mr. Courtenay without a doubt. That being 80, who could have been the unfor- tunate man who had been struck to the heart so mysteriously? S0 strange and complicated were all the | circumstances, and so cleverly bad the chiet actors in the.drama arranged its details, that Courtenay himself was convinced that tor others to learn t8e truth was utterly | ent 1s quite tmpossible. in the hands of the executors, and before long must be in evidence in order to re- | come here to learn what he can “He csa learn nothing,” answered the “It it were his confounded the first.” ) 4 “In how long'a time do you anticipate?” she asked, looking earnestly into his eyes. “A few months at most,” was his a swer. pelled Wandering Jew. To return to me at pres- celve my money.” ness,” she declared, in a volce of com- plaint constant dread.” “Whom and what do you fear?" suspicion of the truth, t | a vause 4 | “What?" he cried in quick surprise. “Tell me why. Explain it all to me.” movement with suspicion.” “Ah! my dear, your fear groundless,” he laughed. fellow possibly know? ‘Woking funeral hi followed me to my grave man who attends his friend’ | no suspicion that the dead is atill living, If there is any object in this world that is convineing it is a corpse.” “I merely tell you the result of my obser- “In my opinion he has depend upon it. vations,” she said. “degd” man impossible. Yet it was more than re- CLOSE TO WH! \ » WAS. bushes that overhung the stream, I sped on- ward for ten minutes or more, until I came to the boundary of the great pasture, passing through the swing gate by which I felt confident that they must also pass. I turned to look before leaving the meadow, and could just distinguish their figures. They had turned at rfght angles, and as I had expected were walking in my direction. I went forward again and, after some hur- ried search, discovered a spot close to the path whete concealment behind a great old willow seemed possible, €0 at that coign of vantage I waited breathlessly for their ap- proach. The roaring of the waters behind would, I feared, prevent any of their words from reaching me, nevertheless I walted anxiously. A great barn owl flapped lazily past, hoot- ing weirdly as it went, then all nature be- came still again, save the dull sound of the tumbling flood. Ambler Jevons, had be been with me would no doubt have acted differ- ently. But it must be femembered that I was the merest tyro in the unraveling of a mystery, whereas with him it was a kind of natural occupation. And yet would he be- liéve me when I told him that I had actually seen the dead man walking there with his wite? 1 was compelled to admit within myselt that such a statement from the 1ips of any man would be received with incredulity. In- deed, had such a thing been related to me, 1 should have put the narrator down as elther a liar or a lunatic. At last they came. I remained motions nding in the shadow and not daring to breathe. My eyes were fixed upon him, strained to catch every sund. 1d something to her. What it was I could not gather. Then he pushed open the creaking gate to allow her to pa Across the moon’s face had drifted a fleecy cloud; therefore the light was not so bril- Mlant as half an hour before. Still I could see his features ahmost as plainly as I seo this paper upon which I am writing my strange adventure and could recognize every linament and pecullarity of his coun- tenance. Having passed through the gate he took her ungloved hand with an air of old- fashioned gallantry and raised it to his lips. She laughed merrily in rapturous content and then slowly, very slowly, they strolled along the path that ran within three feet of where I stood. My heart leaped with excitement. ‘Their volces sounded above the rushing of the waters and they were lingering as though unwilling to walk further. “Ethelywnn has told me,” he was saying. “I can't make out the reason of hfe cold- ness toward her. Poor girl! she seems utterly heart-broken." “He suspects,” his wife replied “But what ground has he for suspicion?” I stood there transfixed. They were talking of, myself! They bhd halted quite close to where I was and in that low roar had raised their voices €0 that I could distinguish every word. “Well,” remarked his wife, “the whole affair was mysterfous, that you must admit. With his friend, a man named Jevons, he bas been endeavoring to solve the prob- lem." “A curse on Ambler Jevons!" he blurted forth in anger, as though he were well acquainted with my friend. “It between them they managed to get at the truth it would be very awkward,™ she sald. “No fear of that,” he laughed in full confidence. “A man once dead and buried, with a coroner's verdict upon him, is not easily believed to be alive and well. No, my dear; rest assured that these men will pever get at our secret—never.' 1 smiled within myself. How little did e dream that the man of whom he had been epeaking was actually overhearing his words! “But Ethelwynn, in order to regain her place in the doctor's heart, may betray us. hl‘l wife remarked dubiously. “Shé dare mot,” was the reply. “From her we have nothing whatever to fear. As long as you keep up the appearance of ep mourning, are discreet in all your sctions, and exercise proper caution on the occasions when we meet, our secret must remain hidden from all.” t0 g0 late commission abowt February L | On nearing the lockkeeper's cottage, a| “But I am doubtful of Ethelwynn. A - . | fearing lest precipitation might prevent me markable that he sought mot to disguise his personal appearance it he wished to re- main dead to the world. Perhaps, how- ever, being unknown in that rural district —for he once had told me that he had never visited his wife's home since before his marriage—he considered himself perfectly safe’from recognition. Besides, from their conversation, I gathered that they only met on rare occasions, and certainly Mary kept up the fiction of mourning with the greatest assldulty. 1 recollected what old Mrs. Mivart had told me of her daughter's erratic move- ments, of her short mysterlous absences with her dressing bag and without a maid. It was evident that she made fiying visits in-varfous directions in order to meet her “dead” husband. Courtenay spoke again, after a briet si- lence, saying: “I had no idea that the doctor was down here, or I should have kept away. To be seen by him would expose the whole affair.” “I was quite ignorant of his visit until I went'in to dinner, and found him already seated at table” she answered. ‘But he will leave tomorrow. He sald tonight that to remain away from his patients for a single day was very difficult.” Is)be down here in pursuance of his inquiries, do you think?’ suggested her husband. “He may be. Mother evidently knew of his impending arrival, but told me nothing. 1 was annoyed, for he the very last person I wished to meel “Well, he'll go in the morning, so we have nofhing to fear. He's safe enough in bed and sleeping soundly—confound .him!" The temptation was great to respond aloud to the complaint, but I refrained, laughing within myself at the valuable in- tormation I was obtaining. CHAPTER XVIIL Words of the Dead. Justice is always vigilant—it stops not to welgh causes, or motives, but overtakes the criminal, no matter whether his deeds be the suggestion of malice or the con- sequence of provoked revenge. 1 was all | eagerness to face the pair in the full light and demand an explanation, yet I hesitated, gaining knowledge of the truth That they had no inclination to walk further was evident, for they still stood | there in conversation, facing and speaking earnestly. 1 listened atten- | tively to every word, my heart thumping so loudly that I wondered they did mot bear its excited pulsations. “You've seen nothing of Sir Bernard?" she was saying. “Sir Bernard!" he echoed “Why, of course not. To him I am dead and burfed, just as-T am to the rest of the world. My executors have proved my will at Somerset | house, I've learned, and very soon you will receive its benefits. To meet the old doctor would be to reveal the whole thing.' “It 1s all so strange,” she said with a low sigh, “that sometimes, when T am alone, T can’t believe it te be true. We have de- celved the world so completely.” “Of course. That was my Intention.” “But could 1t not have been done without the sacrifice of that man's life?" she queried. *Remember! The crime of mur- der was committed.” “It was imperative!” he replied, in a hard volce. A mystery was necessary for our success.' “And it is a mystery which has baffled the police in every particular. “As T intended it should. I laid my plans with care, so that there should be no hiteh or point by which Scotland Yard could ob- tain a clue.” “But our future life?’ she murmured. “When may I return again to you? At present 1 am compelled to feign mourning and present a perfect picture of interesting widowhood; but—but I hate this playing at ntirely death.” “Have patience, dear,” he urged in a sympathetic tone. “For the moment we must remain entirely apart, helding no com- munication with each other save In secret, on the 1st and 15th day of every month we arranged. As soon T find myself in & position of safety we will disappear to- gother, and you will leave the world won- dering at the second mystery following upon | romarked at last. each other | know well that he can never do tha apprehension, for the ingenulty of that man is, I've heard, absolutely astounding. Even Scotland Yard seeks his ald in the solving of the more difficult criminal problems.” “I tell you plainly that I fear Ethelwynn may expose us,” his wife went on slowly, a distinetly anxious look upon her counte- nance. “As you know, there is a coolness between us, and rather than risk losing the doctor altogether she may make & clean breast of the affair.” “No, no, my dear. Rest assured that she will never betray us,” answered Courtenay, with a light reassuring laugh. “True, you are not very friendly, yet you must recol- lect that she and I are friends. Her inter- ests are identical with our own; therefore to expose us would be to expose herself at the same time.” “A woman sometimes acts without fore- thought. ““Quite true. But Ethelwynn is not one of those. She's careful to preserve her own position in the eyes of her lover, knowing quite well that to tell the truth would be to expose her own baseness. A man may overlook many offenses in the woman he loves, but the particular one of which she is guilty a man never forgives." His words went deep into my heart. Was not this further proof that the crime—for undoubtedly a crime had been accomplished in that house at Kew—had been committed by the hand of the woman I so fondly loved? All was so amazing, so utterly bewildering, that I stood there concealed by the old tree, motionless as though turned to stone. There was a motive wanting in it all. Yet T ask you who read this narrative of mine if, like myself, you would mot have been staggered into dumbness at seeing and hear- ing a man whom you had yourself certified to be dead moving and speaking, and, more- over, in his usual health. ““He loves her!" his wife explained, speaking of me. “He would forgive her anything. My own opinion is that if we would be absolutely secufe it is for us to heal the breach between thent.” He remained thoughtful for a few mo- ments, apparently in doubt as to the wisdom of acting upon her suggestion. Surely in the situation was an. element of bumor, tor, happily, I was being forearmed. “It might possibly be good- policy,” he “If we could only bring them together again he would cease his constant striving to solve the enigma, We never- are as apnoy- theless his constant effort: Ing as they are dangerou ““That’s just my opinion. There is danger to us in his constant irquirles, which are much ‘more ingenious and careful than we imagine.” “Well, my child,” he said,' “you've stuck to me in this in a manner that few women would have dared. If you really think it necessary to bring Boyd and Ethelwynn together again you must do it entirely alone, for 1 could not possibly appear on the scene. He must never meet me or th whole thing would be revealed.” ¥ “For your sake ! am prepared to make the attempt,” she sald. “The fact of being Ethelwynn's sister gives me license to speak my mind to him."” | “And to tell him some pretty little fiction about her?” he added, laughing. “Yes, it will certainly be necessary to put an entirely innocent face on recent events in order to smooth matters over," she admitted, joining in his laughter “Rather a dificult task to make the tragle occurrence at Kew appear innocent,” he observed. “But you're a really wonder- ful woman, Mary. The way you've acted your part in this affair is simply marvelous. You' scelved every one—even that old potterer, Sir Bernard, himself. “I've done it for your sak was her response. a promise snd I've kept it. .Up to the present we are but we canng} take too many precautions. We have enemles and scandal seekers on every side.” “I admit that,” he replied, rather im- patiently, I thought: “If you think it a wise course you had better lose no time in placing Ethelwynn's innocence before her lover. You will see him in 4be morn- ing, 1 suppose?”’ “Probably not. He leaves by the 8 o'clock train,” she sald. “When my plans are ma- tured I will call upon him in Londen.” “If it were possible you should re- turn to me at once, but you kmnow how strange and romantic 1s my life, com- to disguise my personality and forever moving from place to plaee 1ike the Besides—you are “‘Money is useless to me without happi- “My position at present is ome of “I believe that Dr. Boyd Has some vague she responded, after “There is nothing to explain—save that tonight he seemed to regard my every are utterly “What ean the He is assured that I am dead, for he signed my certificate, -n: friend Jevons now, we might have some ‘And It any woman can deceive him voy can, Mary,” he Jaughed. “In those widow s weeds of yours you could deceive the very devil himself!” Mrs. Courtenay's airy talk of decepting threw an entirely fresh light upon her char acter. Hitherto, I had held her in consid erable esteem ae & woman who, being boreq to death by the eccentricities of her v valld husband, had sought distraction wiih her friends tn town, but nevertheless honest and devoted to the man she had wedded But these words of hers caused consider able doubt to arise within my mind. That she had been devoted to her husband's in terests was proved by the clever imposture she was practicing; indeed it scemed to me very much as if those frequent visits to town had been at the “desd” man's sug- gestion and with his entire consent. But the more I reflected upon the extraordinary detalls of the tragedy and its astounding denouement, the more hopeless and mad- dening became the problem. I shall probably go to town tomorrow," she exclaimed, after smiling at his declara- tion, “Where are you in hiding just now!" “In Birmingham, A large town is safer than a village. I return by the 6 o'clock train, and go again into close concealment.” “But you know people in Birmingham, don’t you? We stayed there once with some people called Tremlett, I recollect.” “Ah, yes” he laugheds “But I'm care- tul to avoid them. The district in which I live is far removed from them. Besides I never, by any chance, go out by day. I'm esesntially a nocturnal roamer.” “And when shall we meet again?" “By, appolntment, in the usual way.” “At the usugl place?" she asked. “There can be mo better, I think. It does not take you from home and I am Quite unknown down here.” “It any of the villagers over met us they might talk and declare that I met a secret lover,” she laughed. “If you are cver recognized, which I don't anticipate is probable, we can at once change our place of meeting. At :)Pelent there is no necessity for changing “Then In the meantime I will exercise my woman's diplomacy to effect peace be- tween Ethelwynn and the doctor,” she sald. “It is the only way by which we can obtain security." “For the life of me I can't discern the reason of his coolness foward her,” re- marked my “dead” patient. “He, suspects her." “Ot what?" ‘Suspects the truth. Old Henry Courtenay grunted in dis- tistaction. \ “Hasn't she tried to convince him to the contrary?” he asked. “I was always under the Impression that' she could twist him round her finger—se hopelessly was he in love with her.” “So she could before this affair.” “And now that he suspects the truth he's disinclined to have any more to do with her—eh? Well,” he added, “after all it's only natural. She's not so devlish clever as you, Mary, otherwise she would never have allowed herself to fall beneath sus- picion. She must have somehow blun- dered.” “Tomorrow I shall go to town,” she said in a reflective volce. ““No time should be lost in effecting the recomciliation be- tween them." “You are right" he declared. “You should commence at once. Call and talk with him. He believes so entirely in you. But promise me one thing, namely, that you will not go to Bthelwynn," he urged. Why not?" ecause - 1t 18 quite unnecessary,” he answered. “You are not good friends; therefore your influence upon the doctor should be a hidden onme. She will believe that he has returned to ber of his own free will, and hence our position will be rendered the stronger. Act diplomatically. It she believes that you are interesting yourself in her affairs it may anger her.” “Then you suggest that I should call upon the doctor in secret and try and in- fluence bim in her favor without her being aware of it?” “Exactly. After the reconciliation 18 effected you may tell her. At present, how- ever, it is not wise to show your hand. By your visit to the doctor you may be able to obtain from him how much he knows and what are his suspicions. One thing is certain, that with all his shrewd- ness he doesn’t dream the truth. “Who would?" she asked with a smile. “If the story were told nobody would be- Heve it.” “That's just it! The incredibility of the whole affair is what places us in such a position of security; for as long as I Ne low and you continue to act the part of the interesting widow nobody can possibly get at the truth.” “I think I've acted my part well up to the present,” she salde “and I hope to continue to do s0. To influence the doctor will be a difficult task, I fear. But I'll do my utmost, because I see that by the reconciliation Ethelwynn's lips would be sealed. ’ “Act with dlscretion, my dear,” urged the old man. “But remember that Boyd s not & man to be trified with—and as for that accursed friend of his, Ambler Jevons, he possesses the Ingenuity of the very king of darkness: himself.” “Never fear,” she laughed confidently, “Leave It to me—leave all to me." And then, agreeing that it was time they went back, they turned, retraced their steps, and, passing through the small gate into the meadow, were soon afterward lost to sight " Truly my night's adventure had been strange and startling as any that has hap- pened to living man, for what I had seen and heard opened up a hundred theories, each more remarkable and traglc than the other, until I stood utterly dumbfounded and aghast. (To be Continued.) —_— WIFE CAUSE OF HIS TROUBLE mnder John E. Roller Ordered Home for Hreaking R Rear Admiral Ev, She has told me unfortunate Co es of WASHINGTON, Dee. 27.—Commander Jobn E. Roller, formerly commander of the old gunboat Monocacy, has reached this country from the Asiatic station, Waving been orddred home by Rear Admiral Evans for persistent infraction of the rules which probibit the commander of a vessel from permitting his wife to make her home aboard his ship. ; 1t is charged that after offending i that particular several times, Roller's attention was called to the violation of the regu- lations by the commander-in-chief but with mo apparent effect. When his last offense came to the ears of Rear Admiral Evans, the latter de- tached him and ordered him home. Com- mander Roller contends that he has been unjustly treated, but it-is doubtful whether he will press the matter, as the regu tions agalnst such practices are explicit He is now on walting orders. Rain Washes Out Bridge. VICTORIA, B. ., Dec. 27.—Heavy rains have resulted in the Esquimault & Nanaimo bridge, at Kokosilah, being washed away, the river rising suddenly after a rain. Damage is reported from other points along the line and all trains between Victor! Naoalmo have been cancelled until Wedn day as a result of the havoe caused by the bigh water.