Can Such Things Be?

g the papers of the

laws with which we have acquaintance. As to that you shall judge; perhaps we have not all acquaintance with t

s with small distinguishing marks, the operator lost his reckoning; and although I bear upon my forearm a small “H” and he bore a “J,” it is by no means certain that the letters ought not to have been transposed. During our boyhood our parents tried to distinguish us more obviously by our clothing and other simple devices, but we would so frequently exchange suits and otherwise circumvent the enemy that they abandoned all such ineffectual attempts, and during all the years that

insolvent and the homestead was sacrificed to pay his debts. My sisters returned to relatives in the East, but owing to your kindness John and I, then twenty-two years of age, obtained employment in San Francisco, in different quarters of the town. Circum

ally said: “Stevens, I know, of course, that you do not go out much, but I have told my wife about you, and she would be glad to see you at the house. I have a notion, too, that my gir

gh I had never seen the man in my life I promptly replied: “You are very good, sir, and it will give me grea

was accustomed and which it was not my habit to rectify unless the matter seemed important. But how had I known that this man’s name was Margovan? It certainl

e with a number of bills that he was to collect. I told him how I had “committed” him and added

greetings some singular impulse prompted me to say: ‘Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr. Margovan, but I neglected to ask your address.’ I got the address, but what under the s

him, I may add without disparaging their quality; for he fell in love w

followed it until he came to Union square. There he looked at his watch, then entered the square. He loitered about the paths for some time, evidently waiting for someone. Presently he was joined by a fashionably dressed and beautiful young woman and the two walked away up Stockton street, I following. I now felt the necessity of extreme caution, for alth

of which I might or might not be ashamed, according to my estimate of the character of the person finding it

ously beautiful heroine of a discreditable adventure I must in justice admit that she was; but that fact has only this importance: her beauty was such a surprise to me that it cast a doubt upon her identity with the young

such delicate enough banter as our likeness naturally suggested. When the young lady and I we

a double: I saw her last Tues

but her glance was a trifle less steady than my own

ked, with an indifference whic

unwilling to lose sight of her I confess that I followed h

m. She again raised her eyes to mi

e asked. “You need not fear to

lection, that in dealing with this girl ordinary meth

n my heart, “it is impossible not to think you the victim of some horrible compulsion. Rathe

y and hopelessly, and I

ience you will, I believe, do what you conceive to be best; if you are not — well, Heaven help us all! You hav

rmitted me to express it. I rose and left her without another look at her, met the others as they reentered the r

street he asked if I had observed a

plied; “that is why I lef

I recalled the death of my parents and endeavored to fix my mind upon the last sad scenes at their bedsides and their graves. It all seemed vague and unreal, as having occurred ages ago and to another person. Suddenly, striking through my thought and parting it as a tense cord is parted by the stroke of steel — I can think of no other comparison — I heard a sharp cry as of one in mortal agony! The voice was that of my brother and seemed to come from the street outside my window. I sprang to the window and threw it open. A street lamp directly opposite threw a wan and ghastly light upon the wet pavement and the fronts of the houses. A single policeman, with upturned collar, was leaning against a gatepost, quietly smoking a cigar. No one else was i

evens, bleeding from a pistol wound in the chest, inflicted by his own hand. As I burst into the room, pushed aside the phy

ou know, but what you do not know is this — which, however, has no bearing upon the subject of your psychological researches — at least not upon

painful character I seated myself upon one of the benches to indulge them. A man entered the square and came along the walk toward me. His hands were clasped behind him, his head was bowed; he seemed to observe nothing. As he approached the shadow in which I sat I recognized him as the man whom I had seen meet Julia Margovan years before at t

ge that came over his own; it was a look of unspeakable terror — he thought himself eye to eye with a ghost. But he was a courageous man. “Damn yo

more is known of him, not even his name. To