Newspaper Page Text
a si ibi in mt I .
By h. CONAN DOYLE.
PAET ONE
[Being a reprint frrrm the reminiscences
of John H. Watson, M. D., late of the
army medical department.]
Once on the high road, they made
rapid progress. Only once did they meet
any one, and then they managed to slip
into a field and so avoid recognition.
Before reaching the town the hunter
branched away into a rugged and nar
row footpath which led into the moun
tains. Two dark, jagged peaks loomed
above them through the darkness, and
the defile which led between them was
the Eagle canyon, in which the horses
were awaiting them. With unerring
instinct Jefferson Flope picked his way
among the great bowlders and along
the bed of a dried up water course until
he came to the retired corner, screened
with rocks, where the faithful animals
had been picketed. The girl was placed
upon the mule, and old Ferrier upon
one of the horses, with his money bag,
while Jefferson Hope led the other along
the precipitous and dangerous paths.
It was a bewildering route for any
one who was not accustomed to face
nature in her wildest moods On the
one side a great crag towered up 1,000
feet or more, black, stern and menac
ing, with long basaltic columns upon
his rugged surface like the ribs of some
petrified monster. On the other hand
a wild chaos of bowlders and debris
made all advance impossible. Between
the two and the irregular track, so nar
row in places that they had to travel
in Indian silo and so rough that only
practiced riders could have traversed it
at all. Yet in spite of all dangers and
difficulties the hearts of the fugitives
were light within them, for every step
Increased the distance between them
and the terrible despotism from which
they were flying.
They soon had a proof, however, tl .t
they were still within the jurisdiction
of the saints. They had reached the
very wildest and most desolate portion
of the pass when the girl gave a startled
cry and pointed upward. On a rock
which overlooked the track, showing
out dark and plain against the sky,
there stood a solitary sentinel. He saw
them as soon as they perceived him,
and his military challenge of “Who
goes there?’’ rang through the silent ra
vine.
“Travelers for Nevada,” said Jeffer
son Hope, with his hand upon the rifle
which hung by his saddle.
They could see the lonely watcher
fingering his gun and peering down at
them as if dissatisfied at their reply.
\ “By whose permission?” he asked.
“The holy four, ” answered Ferrier.
His Mormon experiences had taught
him that that was the highest authori
ty to which he could refer.
“Nine from seven, ” cried the senti
nel.
“Seven from five, ” returned Jefferson
Hope promptly, remembering the coun
tersign which be had heard in the gar
den.
“Pass, and the Lord go with you,”
said the voice from above. Beyond
this post the path broadened out, and
the horses were able to break into a
trot. Looking back, they could see the
solitary watcher leaning upon his gun
and knew that they had passed the out
lying post of the chosen people, and
that freedom lay before them.
CHAPTER V.
All night their course lay through
intricate defiles and over irregular and
rock strewn paths. More than once
they lost their way, but Hope’s intimate
knowledge of the mountains enabled
them to regain the track once more.
When morning broke, a scene of mar
velous though savage beauty lay before
them. In every direction the great snow
capped peaks hemmed them in, peep
ing over each other’s shoulders to the
far horizon. So steep were the rocky
banks on either side of them that the
larch and the pine seemed to be sus
pended over their heads and to need
only a gust of wind to come hurling
down upon them. Nor was the fear en
tirely an illusion, for the barren valley
was thickly strewn with trees and
bowlders which had fallen in a similar
manner. Even as they passed a great
rock came thundering down, with a
hoarse rattle which woke the echoes in
the silent gorges and startled the weary
horses into a gallop.
As the sun rose slowly above the east
ern horizon the caps of the great moun
tains lit up one after the other like
lamps at a festival until they were all
ruddy and glowing. The magnificent
Spectacle cheered the hearts of the three
fugitives and gave them fresh energy.
At a wild torrent which swept out of a
ravine they called a halt and watered
their horses, while they partook of a
hasty breakfast. Lucy and her father
would fain have rested longer, but Jef
ferson Hope was inexorable. “They
will be upon our track by this time,”
he said. “Everything depends upon our
speed. Once safe in Carson, we may
rest for the remainder of our lives. ”
During the whole of that day they
struggled on through the defiles, and
by evening they calculated that they
were more than 30 miles from their en
emies. At nighttime they chose the
base of a beetling crag where the rocks
offered some protection from the chill
wind, and there, huddled together for
warmth, they enjoyed a few hours’
sleep. Before daybreak, however, they
were up and on their way once more.
They had seen no signs of any pursuers,
ami Jefferson Hope began to think they
were fairly out of the reach of the ter
rible organization whose enmity they
had incurred. He little knew how far
that iron grasp could reach, or bow
soon it was to close upon them and
crush them.
About the middle of the second day
of their flight their scanty store of pro
visions began to run cut This gave the
.»ltl# VDeiUslU; no .• «. • vi, 10?
there was game to be Lad among the
mountains, and he had frequently be
fore had to depend upon bis rifle for the
needs of life. Choosing a sheltered nook,
he piled together a few dry branches
and made a blazing fire at which his
companions might warm themselves,
for they were now nearly 5,000 feet
above the sea level and the air was bit
ter and keen. Having tethered the
horses and bade Lucy adieu, he threw
his gun over his shoulder and set out in
search of whatever chance might throw
in his way. Looking back, he saw the
old man and the young girl crouching
over the blazing fire, while the three an
imals stood motionless in the back
ground. Then the intervening rocks hid
them from his view.
Ho walked for a couple of miles
through one ravine after another with
out s access, though from the marks
upon the bark of the trees and other in
dications he judged that there were
numerous bears in the vicinity. At last
after two or three hours’ fruitless
search, he was thinking of turning back
in despair when, casting his eyes up
ward, ho saw a sight which sent a thrill
of pleasure through his heart. On the
edge cf a jutting pinnacle 30<» or 400
feet above him there stood a creature
somewhat resembling a sheep in ap
pearance, but armed with a pair of
gigantic horns. The bighorn—for so it
is ca led—was acting probably as a
guard .an over a flock which were invis
ible to tho hunter, but fortunately it
was heading in the opposite direction
and had not perceived him. Lying on
his back, he rested his rifle upon a rock
and took a long and steady aim before
drawing the trigger. Tho animal sprang
into tho air, tottere 1 for a moment
upon tho edge of the precipice and then
came crashing down into the valley be
neath.
The creature was too unwieldy to
lift, so the hunter contented himself
with cutting away one haunch and part
of the flank. With this trophy over his
shoulder he hastened to retrace his
steps, for the evening was already draw
ing in. He had hardly started, however
before he realized the difficulty which
faced him. In his eagerness he had
wandered far past the ravines which
were known to him, and it was no easy
matter to pick out the path which he
had taken. Tho valley in which he
found himself divider! anil subdivided
into many gorges Which were so like
tach other that it was impossible to dis
tinguish one from the other. He follow
ed one for a mile or more until he camo
to a mountain torrent which he was
sure that he had never seen before. Con
vinced that he had taken the wrong
turn, he tried another, but with the
same result. Night was coming on rap
idly, and it was alinost dark before ho
nt last found himself in a defilo which
was familiar to him. Even then it was
no easy matter to keep to the right track,
for the moon had not yet risen, and tho
high cliffs on either side made tho ob
scurity more profound. Weighed down
with his burden and weary from his ex
ertions, he stumbled along, keeping up
his heart with the reflection that every
step brought him nearer to Lucy, and
that he carried with him enough to in
sure them food for the remainder of
their journey.
Ho had now come to the mouth of
the very defilo in which ho had left
them. Even in the darkness he could
recognize the outlines of the cliffs which
bounded it. They must, ho reflected, bo
awaiting him anxiously, for he had
been absent nearly five hours. In the
gladness of his heart he put his hands
to his mouth and made the glen re-echo
to a loud halloo as a signal that ho was
coming. He paused and listened for an
answer. None came save his own cry,
which clattered up the dreary, silent
ravines and was borne back to his oars in
countless repetitions. Again he shouted,
even louder than before, and again no
whisper came back from the friends
whom he had left such a short time ago.
A vague, nameless dread came over
him, and he hurried onward frantically,
dropping the precious food in his agita
tion.
W T hen he turned the corner, he came
full in sight of the spot where the fire
had been lit. There was still a glowing
pile of wood ashes there, but it had evi
dently not been tended since his depar
ture. Tho same dead silence still reigned
all around. With his fears all changed
to convictions, he hurried on. There
was no living creature near tho remains
of the fire—animals, man, maiden, all
were gone. It was only too clear that
some sudden and terrible disaster had
occurred during his absence—a disaster
which embraced them all and yet had
left no traces behind it.
Bewildered and stunned by this blow,
Jefferson Hope felt his head spin round
and had to lean upon his rifle to save
himself from falling. Ho was essential
ly a man of action, however, and speed
ily recovered his temporary impotence.
Seizing a half consumed piece of wood
from the smoldering fire, he blew it
into a flame and proceeded with its help
to examine tho little camp. The ground
was all stamped down by the feet of
horses, showing that a large party of
mounted men had overtaken the fugi
tives, and tho direction of their tracks
proved that they bad afterward turned
back to Salt Lake City. Had they car
ried back both of his companions with
them? Jefferson Hope had almost per
suaded himself that they must have
done so when his eye fell upon an ob
ject which made every nerve of his body
tingle within him. A little way on one
side of the camp was a low lying heap
of reddish soil which had assuredly not
been there before. There was no mis
taking it for anything but a newly dug
grave. As the young hunter approached
it he perceived that a stick had been
planted on it, with a sheet of paper
stuck i a the cleft fork of it. The in
script m upon the paper was brief, but
to the point:
: JOHN FEKRIA.R,
: Formerly oir Salt Lake City, :
• Died Aug. 4, 1880. I
man, ..c had
left so short a time before, was gone
then, and this was all his epitaph. Jef
ferson Hope looked wildly around to see
if there was a second grave, but there
was no sign of one. Lucy had been car
ried by their terrible pursuers to fulfill
her original destiny by becoming one of
the harem of the elder’s son. As the
young fellow realized the certainty of
her fate and his own powerlessness to
prevent it he wished that he, too, was
lying with tho old farmer in his last
silent resting place.
Again, however, his active spirit
shook off the lethargy which springs
from despair. If there was nothing else
left to him, he could at least devote his
life to revenge. With indomitable pa
tience and perseverance Jefferson Hope
possessed also a power of sustained vin
dictiveness, which be may have learned
from the Indians among whom he had
■ lived. As he stood by tho desolate fire
he felt that the only one thing which
could assuage his grief would bo thor
ough and complete retribution brought
by his own hand upon his enemies. His
strong will and untiring energy should,
he determined, be devoted to that one
end. With a grim, white face he re
traced his steps to where he had dropped
the food, and having stirred up the
, smoldering fire he cooked enough to last
him for a few days. This ho made up
I into a bundle, and tired as he was he
set himself to walk back through tho
Inountains upon the track of the aveng
ing angels.
For five days he toiled, footsore and
weary, through the defiles which he had
already traversed on horseback. At
night ho flung himself down among tho
rocks and snatched a few’ hours of sleep,
but before daybreak he was always well
on his way.
On the sixth day he reached Eagle
canyon, from w’hich they had commenc
ed their ill fated flight. Thence he
could look down upon the home of the
saints. Worn and exhausted, he leaned
Upon his rifle and shook his gaunt hand
fiercely ?.t the silent, widespread city
beneath him. As he looked at it he ob
served that there were flags in some of
the principal streets and other signs of
festivity. He Was still speculating as
towhat this might mean when ho heard
the clatter of horse’s hoofs and saw a
taounted man riding toward him. As he
Approached he recognized M as a Mor
inon named Cowper, to whom he had
tendered services at different times. He
therefore accosted him when he got up
to him, with the object of finding out
What Lucy Ferrier’s fate had been.
“I am Jefferson Hope,” ho said.
“You remember me?”
The Mormon looked at him with un
disguised astonishment. Indeed it was
difficult to recognize in this tattered,
unkempt wanderer with ghastly white
face and fierce wild eyes the spruce
young hunter of former days. Having,
however, at last satisfied himself as to
his identity, the man’s surprise changed
to consternation.
“You are mad to come here,” he
cried. “It is as much as my own life is
worth to be seen talking with you.
There is a warrant against you from
the holy four for assisting the Ferriers
away. ”
“I don’t fear them or their warrant, ”
Hope said earnestly. “You must know
something of this matter, Cowper. I
conjure you by everything you hold
dear to answer a few questions. We
have always been friends. For God’s
sake, don’t refuse to answer me. ”
“What is it?” the Mormon asked un
easily. “Be quick. The very rocks have
ears and the trees eyes. ”
“What has become of Lucy Ferrier?”
“She was married yesterday to young
Drebber. Hold up, man; hold up! You
have no life left in you. ”
“Don’t mind me,” said Hope faintly.
He was white to the very lips and had
sunk down on the stone against which
ho had been leaning. “Married, you
say?”
“Married yesterday. That’s what
those flags are for on the Endowment
house. There were some words between
young Drebber and young Stangerson
as to which was to have her. They’d
both been in the party that followed
them, and Stangerson had shot her fa
ther, which seemed to give him the best
claim, but when they argued it out ir
council Drebber’s party was tbe stron
ger, so the prophet gave herover to him.
No one won’t have her very long, for I
saw death in her face yesterday. She ir
more like a ghost than a woman. Are
you off, then?”
“Yes, I’m off,” said Jefferson Hope,
who had risen from his seat. His face
might have been chiseled out of marble,
so hard and so set was its expression,
while his eyes glowed with a baleful
light. f
“Where are you going?”
“Never mind,” he answered, and
slinging his weapon over his shoulder
strode off down the gorge and so away
into the heart of the mountains to the
haunts of the wild beasts. Among them
all there was none so fierce and danger
ous as himself.
The prediction of the Mormon was
only too well fulfilled. Whether it was
the terrible death cf her father or the
effects of thehatefulmarriagointowhich
she had been forced, poor Lucy never
held up her head again, but pined away
and died within a month. Her sottish
husband, who had married her princi
pally for the sake of John Ferrier’s
property, did not affect any great grief
at his bereavement, but his other wives
mourned over her and sat up with her
the night before the burial, as is the
Mormon custom. They were grouped
around the bier in the early hours of
the morning, when, to their inexpressi
ble fear and astonishment, the door was
flung open, and a savage looking,
weather beaten man in tattered gar
ments strode into the room.
Withont a glance or a word to the
cowering women, he walked up to the
white, silent figure which had once con
tained the pure soul of Lucy Ferrier.
Stooping over her, be pressed his lips
reverently to her cold forehead, and
then snatching up her hand he took
i the wedding ring from her finger. “S’
snu.ixmsba buried in tn at, be cried,
with a tierce snarl, and L. fore cn alarm
could be raised sprang down tho stairs
and was gone. So strange and so brief
was the episode that the watchers might
have found it hard to believe it them
selves or persuade other people of it
had it not been for the undeniable fact
that the circlet cf gold Which marked
her as having been a bride had disap
peared.
For some months Jefferson Hope lin
gered among the mountains, lending a
strange, wild life an I nursing in his
heart the fierce desire for vengeance
which possessed him. Tales were told
in the city of the weird figure which
was seen prowling about the suburbs,
and which haunted the lonely mountain
gorges. Once a bullet whistled through
Stangerson’s window and flattened
itself upon the wall within a foot of
him. On another occasion as Drebbet
passed under a cliff a great bowlder
crashed down on him, and he only es
caped a terrible death by throwing him
self upon his face. The two young Mor
mons Were not long in discovering the
reason of these attempts upon their lives
and led repeated expeditions into the
mountains in tho hope of capturing or
killing their enemy, but always with
out success. Then they adopted the pre
caution of never going out alone or
after nightfall and of having their
houses guarded. After a time they were
able to relax these measures, for noth
ing was either heard or seen of (heir op
ponent, and they hoped that time had
cooled bis vindictiveness.
Far from doing so, it had, if any
thing, augmented it. Tho hunter’s
mind was of a hard, unyielding nature,
and tho predominant idea of revenge
bad taken such complete possession of
it that there was no room for any other
emotion. He was, however, above all
things, practical. He soon realized that
even his iron constitution could not
stand the incessant strain which ho was
putting upon it. Exposure and want of
wholesome food were wearing him out.
If be died like a dog among the moun
tains, what was to become of his, re
venge then? And yet such a death was
sure to bvertake hirn if ho persisted.
Ho felt that that was to play his enemy’s
game, so he reluctantly returned to tho
old Nevada mines, there to recruit his
health and to amass money enough to
allow him to pursue his object without
privatioii.
His intention had been to be absent a
year at tho most, but a combination of
unforeseen circumstances prevented his
leaving the mines for nearly five. At
the end of that time, however, his
memory of his wrongs and his cravings
for revenge were quite as keen as on
that memorable night when he had
stood by John Ferrier’s grave. Disguis
ed and under an assumed name, he re
turned to Salt Lake City, careless what
became of his own life as long as he ob
tained what he knew to be justice.
There he found evil tidings awaiting
him. There had been a schism among
the chosen people a few months before,
some of the younger members having
rebelled against tho authority of the
elders, and the result had been the se
cession cf a certain number of the mal
contents, who had left Utah and become,
gentiles. Among these had been Dreb
ber and Stangerson, and no one knew
whither they bad gone. Rumor reported
that Drebber had managed to convert
a large part of his property into money,
and that he had departed a wealthy
man, while Stangerson was compare
tively poor. There was no clew at all,
however, as to their whereabouts.
Many a man, however vindictive,
would have abandoned all thotight oi
revenge in the face cf such a difficulty,
but Jefferson Hope never faltered for a
moment. With the small competence
be possessed, eked out by such employ
ment as he could pick up, lie traveled
from town to town through the United
States in quest of his enemies. Year
passed into year, his black hair turned
grizzled, but still ho wandered on —a
human bloodhound, with, his mind
wholly set upon the one object upon
W’hich he had devoted Ins life. At last
his perseverance was rewarded. It was
but a glance of a face in a window,
but that one glance told him that Cleve
land, in Ohio, possessed the man whom
he was in pursuit of.
He returned to his miserable lodgings
with his plan of vengeance all arranged.
It chanced, however, that Drebber,
looking from his window, had recog
nized the vagrant in the street and had
read murder in his eyes. He hurried
before a justice of the peace, accompa
nied by Stangerson, who had become
his private secretary, and represented to
him that they were in danger of their
lives from the jealousy and hatred of
an eld rival. That evening Jefferson
Hope was taken into custody, and not
being able to find sureties was detained
some weeks. When at last he was liber
ated, it was only to find that Drebber’s
house was deserted, and that he and his
secretary had departed for Europe.
Again the avenger had been foiled,
and again his concentrated hatred urged
him to continue the pursuit. Funds were
wanting, however, and for some time
he had to return to work, saving every
dollar for his approaching journey. At
last, having collected cnc ugh to keep
life in him, he departed for Europe and
tracked his enemies from city to city,
working his way in any menial capaci
ty, but never overtaking the fugitives.
When he reached St. Petersburg, they
had departed for Paris, and when he fol
lowed them there he learned that they
had just set off for Copenhagen. At the
Danish capital he was again a few days
late, for they had journeyed on to Lon
don, where he at last succeeded in run
ning them to earth. As to what occur
red there, we cannot do b tt r than
quote the old hunter’s oWn account, as
duly recorded in Dr. Watson’s journal,
to which we are already under such ob
ligations.
CHAPTER VL
Our prisoner's furious resistance did !
cot apparently indicate any ferocity in
his disposition toward ourselves, for on
finding himself powerless he smiled.in
a.: affable manner and expressed his
hopes that he had net hurt any of ns in
the scuffle. “I guess you’re going to
take me to the police station, ” he re
marked to Sherlock Holmes. “My cab’s
at the door. If you’ll loose my legs, I’ll
walk down to it. I’m not so light to lift
as I used to be. ”
Gregson and Lestrade exchanged
glances as if they thought this proposi
tion rather a bold one, but Holmes at
cuce took the prisonci at his word and
loosened the towel which ho had bound
round his ankles. He rose and stretched
his legs, as though to assure himself that
they were free once more. I remember
that I thought to myself as I eyed him
that I had seldom seen a more powerfully
built man, and bis dark, sunburned face
bore an expression of determination and
energy which was as formidable as his
personal strength.
“If there’s a vacant place for a chief
Os tho police, I reckon you are the man
for it, ’ ’ he said, gazing with undisguised
admiration at my fellow lodger. “The
way you kept on my trail was a cau
tion. ”
“You had better come with me, ” said
Holmes to the two detectives.
“I can drive you, ” said Lestrade.
“Good! and Gregson can come inside
with me. You, too, doctor. You have
taken an interest in the case and may
as well stick to us. ’'
I assented gladly, and we all descend
cd together. Our prisoner made no at
tempt to escape, but stepped calmly into
tho cab which had been his, and we fol
lowed him. Lestrade mounted the box,
whipped up the horse and brought us in
a very short time to our destination
Wo were ushered into a small chamber,
where a police inspector noted down our
prisoner’s name and tho names of the
meh with whose murder ho had been
charged. The official was a white faced,
unemotional man, who went through
his duties in dull, mechanical way
“The prisoner Will be put before the
magistrates in the course of tho week, ”
he said. “In the meantime, Mr. Joffer
son Lope, have you anything that you
wish to say? I must warn you that your
words will be taken down and may be
used against you. ”
“I’ve got a good deal to say,” our
prisoner said slowly. “1 want to tell
fan gentlemen all about it. ”
“Hadn’t you better reserve that for
vour trial?” asked the inspector.
“I may never be tried, ” he answer
ed. “You needn’t look startled. It isn’t
suicide I am thinking of. Are you a
doctor?” He turned his fierce, dark eyes
upon me as he asked this last question.
“Yes, I am,” I answered.
‘Then pur your hand here,” he said,
with a smile, motioning with his man
acled wrists toward his chest.
1 did so and became at once con
scious of an extraordinary throbbing
and commotion which was going on in
side. The walls of his chest seemed to
thrill and quiver as a frail building
would do inside when some powerful
engine was at work In the silence of
the room 1 could hear a dull humming
and buzzing noise which proceeded from
tho same source.
“Why,” 1 cried, “you have an aortic
aneurism I”
“That’s what they call it,” he said
placidly’
“1 went to a doctor last week about
it, and he told me that it was bound to
burst before many.days passed. It has
been getting worse for years. I got it
from overexposure and underfeeding
among the Salt Lake mountains. I’ve
done my work now, and I don’t care
how soon 1 go, but I should like to
leave some account of the business be
hind me I don’t want to be remember
ed as a common cutthroat. ”
The inspector and the two detectives
had a hurried discussion as to the ad
visability of allowing him to tell his
story
“Do you consider, doctor, that there
is immediate danger?” the former asked.
“Most certainly there is, ” 1 answer
ed
“In that case it is clearly our duty,
in the interests of justice, to take his
statement,” said the inspector. “You
are at liberty, sir, to give your account,
which 1 again warn you will bo taken
down. ”
“LU sit down, with your leave,’’ the
prisoner said, suiting the action to the
word. “This aneurism of wine makes
me easily tired, and the tussle we had
ha’f an hour ago haft not mended mat
ters. Lin on the brink of the grave, and
lam not likely to lie to you. Every
word 1 say is the absolute truth, and
how you use it is a matter of no conse
quence to me. ”
With these words, Jefferson Hope
leaned back in his chair and began tho
following remarkable statement. He
spoko in a calm and methodical man
ner. as though the events which he nar
rated were commonplace enough. I can
vouch for the accuracy of the subjoined
account, for 1 have had access to Les
trado’s notebook, in which the prisoner’s
words were taken down exactly as they
were uttered.
“It don’t much matter to you why I
hated these men, ”he said. “It’s enough
that they were guilty of the death of
two human beings—a father and a
daughter—and that they had therefore
forfeited their own lives. After the lapse
of ti me that has passed since their crime,
it was impossible forme to secure a con
vietton against them in any court. I
knew cf their guilt, though, and 1 de
termined that 1 should be judge, jury
and executioner all rolled into one.
Yon cl have done the same, if you have
any manhood in yon, if you had been
in n:y place
“That girl that I spoke of was to have
married me 2b vears ago. She was forced
into marrying that same Drebber and
broke her heart over it. 1 took the mar
riage ring from-her dead finger, and J
vowed that his dying eyes should lest
upon that very ring, and that his last
thoughts should be of the crime for
which he was punished. I have carried
it about with me and have followed
him and his accomplice over two conti
nents until I caught them. They thought
to tire me out, but they could not do it.
If 1 die tomorrow, is likely enough,
I die knowing that my work in this
world is done, and well done They
have perished, and all tv my hand.
There is nothing left for me to hope for
or to desire.
“They were rich and I was poor, so
that it was no easy matter for me to
follow them. When 1 got to London
my pocket was about empty, and I found
that 1 must turn my hand to something
for my living Driving and riding are
as natural to me as walking, so 1 ap
plied at a cab owner's office and soon
got employment. 1 was to bring a cer
tain sum a week to the owner, and what
ever was over that 1 might keep for my
self. There was seldom much over, but 1
managed to scrape along somehow Tho
hardest job was.to learn my way. about,
for 1 reckon that of all the mazes that
ever were contrived this city is tho
most confusing 1 had a map beside me,
though, and when once 1. spotted the
principal hotels and stations 1 got on
pretty well.
“It was some time before I found out
where iny two gentlemen were living,
but 1 inquired and inquired until at last
1 dropped across them. They were at a
boarding house at Camberwell, over
on the other side of the river When
once 1 found them out, I knew that 1
had them at my mercy 1 had grown
my beard, and there was ho chance of
their recognizing me. I would dog them
and follow them until 1 saw my oppor
tunity 1 was determined that they
should not escape me again.
“They were very near doing it, for all
that Go where they would about Lon
don, I was always at their heels Some
times 1 followed them on my cab and
sometimes on foot, but the former was
the best, for then they could not got
away from mo. It was only early in tho
morning or late fit night that I could
earn anything, so that 1 began to get be
hindhand with my employer - T~atrf'not j
mind that, however, as loug as I could
lay my hand upon tho men 1 wanted.
. “They were very cunning, though.
They must have thought that there was
some chance of their being followed, for
they would never go out alone and nev
er after nightfall. During two weeks I
drove behind them every day and never
once saw them separate. Drabber him
self was drunk half the time, but Stan
gerson was not to be caught napping. I
watched them late and early, but never
saw the ghost of a chance, but I was
not discouraged, for something told me
that the hour had almost come. My
only fear was that this thing in my
chest might burst a little too soon and
leave my work undone.
“At last one evening I was driving up
and down Torquay Terrace, as the street
was called in which they boarded, when
I saw a cab drive up to their door. Pres
ently some luggage was brought out,
and after a time Drebber and Stangerson
followed it and drove off. I whipped up
my horse and kept within sight of them,
feeling ill at ease, for I feared that they
Were going to shift their quarters. At
Euston station they got out, and I left
a boy to hold my horse and followed
them on to the platform I heard them
ask for the Liverpool train, and tbh
guard answered that one IjaijiagLil!”'' l
anil th would aii nll error
Boshe hours. to be put
out at that, but Drebber was rather
pleased than otherwise. I got so close to
them iti the bustle that 1 could hear ev
ery word that passed between them.
Drebber said that he had a little busi
ness of his own to do, and that if the
other would wait for him he would soon
rejoin him. His companion remonstrated
with him and reminded him that they
had resolved to stick together Drebber
answered that the matter was a delicate
one, and that he must go alone. I could
not catch what Stangerson said to that,
but tho other burst out swearing and re
minded him that he was nothing more
than l;is paid servant, and that he must
not presume to dictate to him. On that
tho secretary gave it up as a bad job
and simply bargained with him that if
he missed the last train he should rejoin
him at Halliday’s Private hotel, to
which Drebber answered that he would
be back on the platform before 11 and
made his way out of the station.
“The moment for which I had waited
so long had at last come. I had my ene
mies within my power. Together they
could protect each other, but singly
were at my mercy , I did not act, how
ever, with undue precipitation. My
plans were already, formed. There is no /
satisfaction in vengeance unless the
fender has time to realize who it is that
strikes him, and why retribution has
come upon him. I had my plans arranged
by which 1 should have the opportunity
of making the man who had wronged
me understand that his old sin had
found him out. It chanced that some
days before a gentleman.who had been
engaged in looking over some houses in
the Brixton road bad dropped the key of
one of them in my carriage. It was
claimed that same evening and return
ed, but in tbe interval I had taken a
molding of it and had a duplicate con
structed. By means of this I had access
to at least one spot in this great city
where I could rely upon being free from
interruption. How to get Drebber to
that house was the difficult problem
which I had no>v to solve.
“Ko walked down tho road and went
into one or two liquor shops, staying
for nearly half an hour in the last of
them. When ho came out, bo staggered
in his walk and was evidently pretty
well cn. There was a hansom just in
front of me, and he hailed it. I follow
ed it ho close that tho nose cf my horse
was within a yard of his driver the
whole way We rattled across Waterloo
bridge and through miles of streets, un
til, to my astonishment, we found our
selves back in the terrace in which he
had boarded. 1 could not imagine what
his intention was in returning there, but
1 went on and pulled up my cab a hun
dred yards or so from tho botSo Ho
entered it, and his hansom drove away.
Give me a glass of water, if you please.
My mouth gets dry with the talking.”
1 handed him the glass, and he drank
it down.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]