Miser Farebrother (vol 3 of 3)

e discovery that Captain Ablewhite had played him false. He had made no arrangement with the book-maker to give Jeremiah time to settle, a

und to pay sums at stated periods, but also with all the securities he held on his own account from persons with whom he had had private business. Among these acc

to be paid on the day of maturity. The reason of Uncle Leth writing this letter to Jeremiah was that in interviews with Kiss and Mr. Linton they mournfully declared their inability to raise the smallest sum to help Uncle Leth in his difficulty. They were overwhelmed with self-reproaches, but this did not help Uncle Leth in his difficulty, nor stave off impending r

ing man would be to ask for his dismissal. It would be tantamount to a conf

as not in a position to assist them. He knew nothing of the acceptance, and therefore could make no reference to it in his confidences with Aunt Leth. "It is an uphill fight," he had said cheerfully to her; "but I sh

ve to meet it or go to the wall. The dear old home would be sold up, and they would be turned in

and furious anger raged in Miser Farebrother's heart. The cause of these

AFFAIR-THE

died a couple of years since, and that last year he contracted a second marriage with an indifferent actress, whose extravagances in her new position have drawn attention to her in every city she and her husband have visited. The finest horses, the finest equipages, the finest dresses, the finest diamonds, the finest everything, in short, that cost vast sums of money. There came to the ears of Mrs. Quinlan and her too-generous husband that a diamond bracelet of rare-nay, of fabulous-value was in the market. The stones were of a monstrous size and o

Mrs. Quinlan was taken ill, and was confined to her bed. So serious was her illness that she was a prisoner in her bedroom for more than three weeks. Mr. Quinlan did not remain in attendance upon

e of the lady's jewels, which were kept in a very substantial safe in Mrs. Quinlan's bedroom. It was often impressed upon Mrs. Quinlan that she was imprudent to carry so much valuable property about with her; but she disregarded these hints, and took her pleasures in her own way. One of these pleasures, in the cou

disappears. Mrs. Quinlan, much distressed at the loss of so great a favourite, calls in a private detective.

should she run away? Somebody has car

e, 'She had charge

rs. Quinlan. 'But it is a

looking through it,' says the detectiv

whatever,' sa

forth. With one exception it is all correct. Nothing is

he detective, 'for the dis

she recovered, bade the detective track Alic

disappeared one Friday night. Presumably the di

tel on that night which may afford a clue

but walk slowly up and down, keeping as much as possible in the dark, and looking for some person he was waiting for. The policeman on duty passed h

to the man. The policeman on duty saw this movement, but is not su

was joined by another in an Inverness cape, and the two walked away together. The policeman on duty saw nothing more of them. From the manner in which they walked aw

s that they were examining something-probably the diamond bracelet. After driving about an hour he was called upon to stop, and before he had pulled up his horse the man in the Inverness cape jumped out of the cab and disappeared. Then he was directed to drive back to London, and he did so, stopping, by orders, in Portland Place. The man who hailed him first (now the only one remaining in the cab) alighted, and the cabman noticed that he had a parcel

the disappearance of a blackleg going by the name of Captain Ablewhite bears upon the robbery. It is known that this C

piquant feature

of the robbery, the detective narrated all the particulars of the af

loss is not so great as you suppo

!' she

mprudent to travel with so much valuable property about you, and I therefore took the precaution of

lation for the robber

ves in Scotland Yard, who are confident th

rst he was clammy; the next moment he broke out into a hot perspiration. He had been swindled, tricked, betrayed; he,

did not understand a word of any other language than English; and he would be sure to be tracked and brought back. His flight would make it worse for him; it would be an admission of guilt. Should he stop and brave it out? Upon reflection he gained a little courage. He argued with himself, despite the policeman's and the cabman's declarations that they could identify him, that it was scarcely possible they could do so unless he betrayed himself. He had been at great trouble to conceal his features from the policeman's scrutiny, and it only required him to put a good

to his calmer self. Notwithstanding which, he said aloud, with a cunning smile, "I may find you one day, my Captain, and the

imperatively necessary he should get possession of at once was money

ediately. Perhaps he might find M

Two men struggled for life and death. The house was very quiet. Only he and the other man occ

ain the knife descended. What a delight to punish an enemy so! You tricke

went into the street, and

k the slightest notice of him. He nodded to a passing acquaintance, who n

shed. He was face to face with the world

He must have some excuse for the visit. He retraced his steps and went back to the office, arming himsel

ery gloomy; the windows had been frosted, so that no p

along the table, and dropped, drip by drip, on the floor. Jeremiah held himself in suspens

man's blood. The cabman's blood. The

He ground his foot into the floor, and looked down, smiling. Then, lockin

life and death struggle, and all the space around was bathed in blood. A ruthless ferocity was awakened within

ove, and conquering it, cast a defiant look at the pulsing, bloo

e called a cab, a four-wheeler, and looked the driver straight in the fac