Fernwood turned to South. will you do? Arrest them?"

"For heaven's sake, let us end this! What

South was silent a moment. "Why, captain, the evidence is good for us, but before a magistrate any shyster of a lawyer would laugh us out of court."

Fernwood looked the disappointment he felt. He, too, was for a little silent, and then said, smiling: "Of course Dr. Alston, who has the acute sense of some animal ancestor, caught fragments of the compromising talk of these men - enough, I dare say."

Mr. South smiled the critical dissent of the better-informed mind. "Couldn't of heard, sir. Mind-reading it was, and nothing else." "Well," said Fernwood, "no matter. It is all the artillery we have, and we ought to be able to use it."

I watched with an expert's satisfaction the return of mental force in a man so lately stumbling on the boundary of insanity, at times quite hounded over the line by the beliefs of others and the too constant dwelling on one fatal subject. Now he was himself once more, suggestive, resourceful, and courageous.

I checked South with a lift of the hand and waited.

"Suppose," said the captain, "you arrest Sharkey, as you call him, on a charge of murder and burglary."

"On suspicion?" said South. "We can, but it will only scare Swing. We have no available evidence, and Sharkey will simply shut up like a clam.' "No," said I, "he is the lesser scamp. Jail bird as he is, there is always a competent scare for every crow. Let me see him and tell him what I can make him believe I overheard.

It was a confession and far plainer than I have told you. Let me say to Sharkey that we will arrest Swing. Why not even do that at once? Tell Sharkey he had better be first to confess and get a chance to escape the gallows. To have incidentally caused death during a burglary, is, as I understand it, in the eye of the law, murder.” "Yes," said South; "that's good law. I will see the chief." "Might work, but don't mention mind-reading, South," said I. "Of course not. He must think we overheard it — bits, We must find the girl, too. If my plan works, that will be easy.

you know. We had some further talk, and South left us. When we were alone, Fernwood came over to where I stood, set a hand on each of my shoulders. and said: "I am curious as to what you really did when you saw those villains. But first I want to say that I owe to you such a debt of gratitude as never can be paid.” His eyes filled, and he sat down, overcome with such emotion as forbids speech.

I, too, was for a moment silent. I had learned to like well the man and the woman. I, whom the chances of life had made a somewhat lonely man,

had found a friend.

I said: "My dear Fernwood, when I had seen you a few times I was strongly attracted. It is for me a great joy to have served a man I car completely like and, without reserve, approve. In our day the helpfu resources of a friendship are so few. Once you could stand by a friend i battle or express yourself in verse. Now friendship is limited to small

material kindnesses, to sympathy, to money help at need; and that, strange to say, is the sharpest test today, and where too many fail. But I am on a subject which is often in my mind. Such a chance as ours has been is

happily rare."

"Oh, yours, yours," said Fernwood, smiling through tears. "Ah, and my dear Anne. I shall leave her to thank you.'

"Well, I thank heaven that the chance fell to me. You want to know how I got inside the counsels of Swing & Co. ?"

"Yes, indeed."

I laughed. "I shall tell you when we are through with this business." "Oh, by Jove!" cried Fernwood, with a good honest laugh, "tell me now."

"No, not yet. Now you must go to bed and with an easy mind. I want to put on paper what I gathered. Good night."

The next afternoon South arrived. Fernwood for the first time had gone out alone on my bicycle.

"We have Sharkey," said South. "Got him easy. The chief is delighted. The man is well scared, and we shall have Swing tonight."

In half an hour I was with South in a cell at the central police station. Sharkey sat on the cot, a sullen brute. He made no reply when South said, "You are in a bad scrape this time."

Then I began. "I sat opposite to you at McCoy's. You talked to Swing about the burglary and the death at Mr. White's house. You said the girl had the will."

He looked at me and made no comment.

I went on: "You wanted half of what the will would bring. Swing said, 'One third.' You said, 'More, more; too little.""

He grew attentive. I saw his hards open and shut uneasily. He was sweating and passed a hand across his forehead.

"Swing said you were counting your chickens before they were hatched, and that you were in liquor. He said the old man's death made it a hard job. You said: 'He just died. No one hurt him.""

Then Sharkey said, "Guess you think I'm a fool."

South caught on to this as I did not. The man felt himself clear of murder.

"Stop a moment," South said to me. "Look here, Sharkey. You scared an old man, and he fell dead, and don't you deceive yourself. It is murder. Swing will be taken tonight. He will tell the whole of it to save his neck. Come, doctor. The man is an idiot. He has had the first chance. Now we will give Swing his turn."

We rose, and were half out of the door when Sharkey caught South by the arm. "I'll tell," he said. "Give me the chance."

"Well," said South, "come to your senses, have you?"

Within an hour we had his statement under oath. It was simple. They had watched the house for several nights; knew there was but one servant, an old woman; had seen that there was a light in a third story usually put out before Fernwood left; reasoned that the front door was left unlocked from within; and had easily entered. They found and handled the silver,

and left the tankard on a chair, meaning to return for this spoil. Their plan was to tie and gag the old man, get what they could, and then at last bag the silver. Mr. White may have been awake and heard them, for he was up and held the poker in his hand when they came in. He cried “Murder!" and fell, striking his head on the knob of the fender. As he lay still, they did not trouble themselves to see if he were dead, but by their lantern light broke open the desk and took the money. Then Swing saw the will and tore open the envelopes. He read it. It was brief. Then he said: "Never mind the silver. This is worth thousands." Sharkey reluctantly yielded, and they went as they came. The news of the death alarmed them. Some further threats about his position at last drew out full knowledge as to the whereabouts of the will.

In the afternoon the girl was arrested, and was easily persuaded to tell where it was hidden under the carpet in her room. It was resealed by Fernwood's wish and without being read and left in the safe in care of the chief. Swing must in some way have been alarmed, for he was long sought for in vain, but he was at last arrested in St. Louis.

I had anxiously waited until the girl and the will were brought in. I hurried away in a cab to see Miss Musgrave. I told her of the happy ending of our weeks of trial and, driving with her to the library, sent her upstairs to give her the joy of entirely relieving her lover's mind.

When, in half an hour, I entered the room, Miss Musgrave rose, saying: "I want to thank our friend, and how can I-"

For my part, I was just a little embarrassed, as I always am by thanks. I said: "Let us all go and dine together."

I think no one of us has ever forgotten that dinner. Gay and glad at first, the talk soon became grave, and at last Fernwood said: "Is it not time, Alston, that we heard about the mind-reading or what it was?"

"Oh, yes!" cried Miss Musgrave. "I am so curious.

"Well," I said, "my sister was deaf and dumb, and when she was taught lip-reading I took it up and became very expert. It may have some pretty dangerous uses. I try not to use it. The temptations it offers are too great."

"So that was it!" cried Miss Musgrave. "And I really believed it to have been mind-reading."

"Well, is it not?" I said.

As we rose from the table, Fernwood astounded the young waiter by saying: "This is a dinner I shall never forget. I want you to remember it," and gave him a five-dollar note.

I felt more anger at old White's folly than did his nephew; but Miss Musgrave said that with her modest income and the captain's pay they would be better off than most army officers. They were, in fact, too happy and thankful to feel the loss of what they had never had. I said, however, that as under the will they would get something, Fernwood must be present when the will was presented for probate.

This took place two days later. The president of the hospital, several

trustees, and two or three lawyers were present. The room was crowded with reporters and others, and Mr. Burke was of course present.

The president of the trust company which was the executor handed over the will to the registrar, and made the usual application through the company's legal adviser. The registrar looked it over, and then said quietly to the president of the hospital: "Mr. Daingerfield, I regret to say that this will is no more than waste paper as far as concerns the hospital. It was witnessed and signed on June first. Mr. White died July third. That is thirty-two days after. A few more days of life would have made good his gift to the hospital. Of course, gentlemen, you all know the law. Forty days must have elapsed. The estate goes in totality to the heirs at law."

Daingerfield said: "Incredible, Mr. Registrar. Mr. White was too good a business man to have made such a mistake!" A roar of laughter broke out among the reporters; the lawyers smiled; Daingerfield grew red with anger, and Mr. Burke, beside me, said: "What a glorious bull! I have not lost my time."

"I fear that you will find me correct," said the registrar, repressing his mirth. "By the way, I see that among those who benefit is Doctor Alston. A codicil gives him a hundred thousand dollars."

I looked up amazed.

Mr. Fernwood's lawyer said, "Mr. Registrar, unless there is a contest, which seems hardly possible, my client, Captain Fernwood, is the chief heir. There are no other relatives none; but this is I presume a matter for

the courts to decide."

The faces of Mr. Daingerfield and his friends must have pleased my captain if he had cared to look at them, as the old gentleman broke out with: "We will fight it to the last. It is a swindle."

Fernwood said: " "Mr. Daingerfield, bad manners and an evil temper lost your hospital this estate. Be a little careful what you say. Come, doctor. Good morning, gentlemen."

There was, of course, no contest, and in due season my friend was in possession of some two millions.

My delightful legacy was, as mentioned, in a codicil in which the testator declared it to be an expression of gratitude because of my having saved his life, and made him no charge.

In conclusion, I may say that my friends were married, and that Fernwood sent the hospital a check for one hundred thousand dollars. Then they went away to his post at San Francisco, where later I joined them, and finally became the manager of a fertile mine, a part of the White estate.

THE TRIPLE CROSS

BY GEORGE RANDOLPH CHESTER (1869- >

I

HEY were glad to see Blackie Daw back on Broadway

THE

-

that is, in the way that Broadway is glad; for they of the Great White Way have no sentiments and no emotions, and but scant memories. About Blackie's companion, however, they were professionally curious.

"Who is this large, pink Wallingford person, and where did you get it?" asked Mr. Phelps, whose more familiar name was Green-Goods Harry. Mr. Daw, standing for the moment with Mr. Phelps at the famous old cheese-and-crackers end of the Fifth Avenue bar, grinned.

"He's an educated hick," he responded, "and I got him out of the heart of the hay-fever district, right after he'd turned a classy little trick on the easy producers of his childhood home. Sold 'em a bankrupt bucket-shop for eight thousand, which is going some!"

Mr. Phelps, natty and jaunty and curly-haired, though shifty of eyes through long habit of trying to watch front and back doors both at once, looked with a shade more interest across at the imposing white vest of young J. Rufus Wallingford-once Jonathan Reuben Wix, of Filmorewhere he stood at the bar with fat and somber Badger Billy. There was a cocksure touch to the joviality of young Wallingford that was particularly aggravating to an expert like Mr. Phelps. Young Wallingford was so big, so impressive, so sure of pleasing, so certain the world was his oyster, that it seemed a shame not to give his pride a tumble- for his own sake, of

course.

"Has he got the eight thousand on him?" asked the green-goods one, his interest rapidly increasing.

"Not so you could notice it," replied Daw with conviction. "He's a wise prop, I tell you. He's probably lugging about five hundred in his kick, just for running expenses, and has a time-lock on the rest."

"We might tinker with the lock," concluded Harry, running his fingers through his hair to settle the curls; "it's worth a try, anyhow."

"You'll bounce right off," declared Mr. Daw. "I tried to put a sweet one over in his home town, and he jolted the game so quick he made its teeth rattle."

From The Saturday Evening Post, December 5, 1908; Publishing Co., in the United States and Great Britain. Merrill Co., and republished by special arrangement and Young Wallingford (1910), by George Randolph Chester.

copyright, 1908, by the Curtis Copyright, 1910, by the Bobbs permission from their volume.