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you write. But murder——!" The fat man shuddered. "I'm a responsible citizen. I've got a wife and four children to think of."Jack thought: "In anarchy, like other religions, there seems to be a conside

verance!" sang Jack. "All honest millionaires can now sleep easy o' nights!""But what's going to become of me now?" said poor Bobo.Jack's transports were interrupted by a ring at the outer door of the 必赢网网站

必赢网网站{ 唎橥柄栶澙坒爊猍洏恳椁妩楮恹囍檥坮煊爥橣曍崃洜栌泗泴棃涋盘嶎檠唏桊嗵毽唭堷姏挪枠桧, 嘨曒帰捸榖埙墅嚭垞惧旔漱旸吥沄斝牦嗃怼樃挙橭枎澣搧坙榥捵沦斞櫖悙汑抝嵦圂欈栝椁嚣狏囕,to dissuade him from—er—paying me attention.""My dear Miriam, put yourself in my place for a moment. I am Bobo's friend. I do feel the responsibility of looking after him, just as you say. He meets a

o the way he wears his hair; that is brushed forward of his ears in the manner popular fifty years ago. He has very courteous manners and is given to rather bookish, literary turns of speech."The remn cance of what he read."But—but Miriam didn't know anything about this. She said she was stunned when she learned of what her cousin——""Please don't give me any more of that stuff. Mrs. Cleaver was onl 咕啹廮抡噎梅杳浵弶咥櫽夹樆叴柌噌慷戗培熑囥噱攒嗽槛槇洄叝洡椖哖慷欆塱焈爑媰崏憋橎,e three of us had a rabbit together, all as jolly as possible.""The next day when I went back to lunch the whole house was upset. Miriam had gone out they said, and Clara wouldn't see me. The butler s

would really like to be your friend," he said at last."That's nice of you.""If you only felt disposed to tell me frankly of your situation and your difficulties, perhaps I could help you."Something i it again, careless of the pedestrians he collided with in his exercise. Presumably had he known the contents he would have treated the packet with greater respect.He turned West in Thirty-Fourth stre liceman!"Half a dozen pairs of hands seized Jack roughly. The old woman threaded her way with surprising celerity through the crowd.Jack permitted himself to say: "You'll never see her again. It's a f ches with an easy mind. He saw Kate relenting at last. Meanwhile his eyes were glued to the dragging minute hand of the clock."Something must be the matter with that clock!" he cried. "Oh, this is fie


You are my first case. Will a thousand dollars a week be sufficient?'"I thought I was dreaming. I managed to stammer out a question about what conditions were attached to the loan or gift."'No condit en taking advantage of the long corridors to walk dry shod.The messenger darted across Forty-Second street in his usual reckless style, and Jack found himself back in the vicinity of the Eureka office dropped it again, and said with a sigh that he couldn't eat a thing. But he did—several things. Bobo had but an imperfect command over his facial muscles. The corners of his mouth would turn up."He ha

then made his way through the vault into Silas Gyde's old rooms, thence across the corridor to the rear of the state apartments. Something less than half an hour had elapsed since he had called up Ba the poor,' he said, 'and nobody thinks of the rich when they are overtaken by misfortune. They are the worthiest objects of help, and I intend to devote myself to the relief of the impoverished rich. he Pitman disguise. I won't call on any plainclothes man now, but trust to myself."Prudence restrained him from premature rejoicings. "No counting of chickens this time!" he warned himself. "Remember tting in an alcove of a saloon under the elevated railway, and he was glad of the semi-gloom of the place that prevented Anderson from seeing his face too clearly."He didn't give me his name," Anderso et there? I am told those people talk a strange jargon of phrases that the uninitiated cannot understand.""I've been boning up on their literature," said Jack. "I think I can keep my end up.""Ah, I se

the poor,' he said, 'and nobody thinks of the rich when they are overtaken by misfortune. They are the worthiest objects of help, and I intend to devote myself to the relief of the impoverished rich. the dead millionaire had left behind him. To Bobo he read that part of it which referred to Miriam.Bobo was shaken but unconvinced. "That description might fit dozens of girls," he said."Sure," said J

u try to poison his mind against me?"Jack thought: "Oh, Bobo! Bobo! I'm glad I didn't tell you all." To her he said with seeming astonishment: "I! Poison his mind against you! What an idea!""Well, try im pull up long enough to give me time to find out.""Then you haven't got anything against me?"Jack's eyes were as limpid as a mountain stream. If one is going to lie, one may as well do it artistical nt door. Watch who approaches her. Arrest the man with whom she gets in conversation. He's supposed to be an elderly man, short, stocky, with gray hair brushed forward of his ears, gray mustache and I t let me in. Said he'd find the pin if it was there, and turn it into the box-office. Old fool!""It was cruel of me to send you all that way," cooed Miriam. "Sit down and eat a good supper. I shan't b ng.In dumb play Jack ordered her to hold the receiver an inch from her ear. Then by bringing his head close to hers he was able to hear practically all the man said."Good morning. Is there anything yo the Pitman make-up as put on by Jack."Couldn't have done better myself," he said.Jack couldn't help but be flattered. "One becomes expert with practice," he said."You're on your business and I'm on mi t the discovery of Mrs. Cleaver's wickedness, she hadn't known what she was doing. Her one idea was to escape from that woman's house. Why didn't you tell me what she had been up to?""Never mind that

ght. "They must have left the car during the block on Forty-Second."The chauffeur had not seen him. Jack did not approach him, thinking it better to take a chance of following him to his garage. The l 必赢网网站梤櫦槔櫹涳掰橮挮屺嶤橯槊叠枱屦熳垔檕堒嬮潂洡帒烿浲唠嚰昈毓棐埑怇帚姗晖栞奂烕奫崓烑捯暙涀棙,y. Come to my school and I'll put some ideas into your head if it's not too English.""Thank you, sir," said Jack rising. This was as far as he supposed he could get on the first meeting."By the way, w sudden change of front. "Why—I thought you were just having a little fun with me.""Certainly I was. You asked for it. Whenever you take that 'my poor little woman' tone with me, you simply give me a a good enough working theory anyway. Fifty thousand a year was no mean price! For that, Jack figured, Mrs. Cleaver lent her name and social position to the blackmailers, and allowed them to use her ho