Anthony Trent, Master Criminal

so Trent took his homeward way intent on starting another sto

ad never been a good one, showed its age. The steel engravings on t

to his touch. "And Weems," he sigh

lment of his portion. Mrs. Clarke ready to resent any jest as to her lord's habits. The landlady eager to give battle to such as sniffed at what her kitchen had to offer. Wearisome banter between brainless boarders tending mainly to criticism of moving picture productions and speculations as to the

ght as a dinner guest a former sweetheart, now enthusiastically patrolling city sidewalks as a guardian of the peace. It was not difficult to inflame McGuire. He disliked Anthony Trent on sight

tagonist who was a lightning hitter, whose footwork

aily when Trent was a police reporter on it, and was now a Park Row derelict supported by the generosity of his old friends and acquaintances. Only Mrs. Clarke

assure himself of certain details in it. Among the pages was an envelope with the name of a celebrated Fifth Avenue club embossed upon it. Writt

ngular hand. The stationery was of the Fifth Avenue club. Th

ar Cro

ades but I am enormously busy. By the way, a little friend of mine thinks she can write. I don't suppose she can, but I promised to show her efforts to you. I'm no judge but it seems to m

rs e

GTON W

the name on the envelope. It had been written

e hand which indited the original. And when this copy had been made to Trent's satisfaction, he carefully erased everything in the original b

nscientious was the writer that there were plans of every floor and in many instances descriptions of their interior decoration. Anthony Trent chuckled to think of the difficulties with which the unlettered crook has

r boiled dinner that some of them had a glimpse of

nibs," commented one boarder s

and not pay," said Mrs. Sauer grimly. It was three w

now. That could be settled easily. Take the tax off liquor and people wouldn't want to eat so much. It's the high cost of drinking that's the trouble. What

wn and call upon Anthony Trent. He would plead for enough money to go to the druggist and get his wife's prescription filled. Trent, good lad that he w

r was suddenly flung open, so sudden that poor Clarke was startled. And facing him, his fists clenched and a certain tensity of attitude that was a strange one to the visitor, was Anthony T

should rush with all haste to the nearby druggist and have that prescription filled. And as the man who owes you money did

u know?" ga

ntly to the door. "Now I'm tired and want to go to sleep so don't call in o

n pages of the first draft of his new story held his attention for a few seconds. Then he deliberately tore the pages into little fragments, threw them into

he murmured, "

the career of Anth

y Conington Warren had about him only what was good. And there was a heavy platinum ring with a ruby of not less than four carats, a lady's ring. It would not be dif

ated over these glistening stones

e had considerable faith in the excellent Togoyama now hurrying to the Adirondack camp,

n Trent, now in dressing gown, lighte

and there's no going back. Yesterday I w

quickly. Out of the window grey clo

personal dealings heretofore, he had been scrupulously honest, and there had never been any reflection on his honor as a sportsman. He had played games for their own sake. He had wo

whom he hardly remembered. There was no family honor to trail in

It would be ironical if, before he tasted the fruits of leisure, he were taken to prison-perhaps by Officer McGuire! It ha

as hiding himself and stood there waiting for an answer to his question. Trent had seen to it that the light was low. It was a moment of inspiration when he called to mind Conington Warren's imperious gesture as he waved away Voisin's head waiter, and another wh

nd looking up at him. But it was only poor Clarke whose own prescription had been too we

curious turn of mind, perhaps, for a burglar to take. But so far the sporting simile presented itself to him. It was a game, a big game

y it decently," he said to h