Genre Thriller. Page - 3

congratulate you upon----""No, no," Beatrice cried quickly. "Please don't. Perhaps if you tell me your name I may be in a position to help you to find anybody you may chance----" The stranger shook her head as she stood in the doorway. Her voice was low and sweet as she replied. "It does not in the least matter," she said. "You can call me the Slave of the Bond." CHAPTER II The guests had assembled at length, the dinner was in full swing. It would

invariable custom of the house; and sat in a dead silence, that seemed natural to the great sober room.This, however, was not for want of a topic; on the contrary, they had a matter of great importance to discuss, and in fact this was why they dined tete-a-tete. But their tongues were tied for the present; in the first place, there stood in the middle of the table an epergne, the size of a Putney laurel-tree; neither Wardlaw could well see the other, without craning out his neck like a rifleman

bably rewards for his capture which, in the aggregate, offered immense inducement to deliver Anthony Trent to justice. How was Trent to know that Sutton the adjutant was financially secure enough to make the sacrifice? Undoubtedly he had seen Sutton and made the desperate leap.Sutton determined to safeguard his interests. The baggage for instance, that should not be searched. There might be in it evidence as damaging as that which the brothers of Joseph put into the younger's sack. It would be

up his breakfast with her own fair hands, happy for the day if her admired lodger conversed with her for a few moments before reading the morning paper. Then Miss Greeb would retire to her own sitting-room and indulge in day dreams which she well knew would never be realised. The romances she wove herself were even more marvellous than those she read in her favourite penny novelettes; but, unlike the printed tales, her romance never culminated in marriage. Poor brainless, silly, pitiful Miss

and his condition evidenced the keenest poverty, this sally was treated as a fine joke by the overseer and the understrappers, who roared with laughter, and swore that they had never heard anything better in their lives. It roused my blood, however, to boiling pitch, and I resolved that, come what might, I would not desert my friend."If you send him away to the Mail Change," I cried, looking Bartrand square in the eye, "where you hope they won't take him in--and, even if they do,

dmirably patient person. Fully fifteen minutes elapsed before the return of the motor-cab was signalled unmistakably by the blatant bandbox bobbing back high above the press of traffic. And when this happened, Mr. Iff found some further business with the steamship company, and quietly and unobtrusively slipped back into the booking-office.As he did so the cab stopped at the curb and the pretty young woman jumped out and followed Mr. Iff across the threshold--noticing him no more than had Mr.

pparently you don't know the way to the stairs," returned the other a trifle tartly. Looking at his keen, pallid and deeply lined face, the young doctor set him down as a rather irritable fellow, and suspected dyspepsia. "Everybody will be going to the beach," he added. "If you follow along you'll probably get there.""Thanks," said Dick undisturbedly. It was a principle of his that the ill-temper of others was no logical reason for ill-temper in himself. In

nd that the train was not scheduled to stop before reaching the Grand Central Station.Garth knew that, too. Therefore he could not understand why his conductor stooped and with an air of confidence opened the vestibule door and raised the trap. Garth started, for, as if the engineer were an accomplice and had received some subtle signal, the brakes commenced to grind while the train lost its speed rapidly. The slender man grasped Garth's arm, and, as the train stopped, leapt with him to the

too, my lady, afore Aaron, who now lies with the worms, laid me out with a flat-iron. Men's fit for jails only, as I allays says.""A nice opinion you have of our sex," remarked Archie dryly. "I have, sir. I could tell you things as would make your head waggle with horror on there shoulders of yours." "What about your son Sidney? Is he also wicked?" "He would be if he had the strength, which he hasn't," exclaimed the widow with uncomplimentary fervor.