The Portland daily press., 1890-05-03

wished his nephew to inherit as much as
possible "The greater the RISE" he
chuckled, ''the greater the fall. Up like
q rocket, Jack, my boy, and down like
a stick"
When all these preparations were made
Sir Toby quietly left his home in Fallow-
land one day and did not return to it.
His ostensible destination was the house
in Grosvenor square, but he passed the
night at hotel and started the next
morning for Liverpool. In his red wig
and queerly cut clothes his own valet
would not have recognized him. AT
Liverpool he took steerage passage for
New York, for he was man who rather
liked ''roughing it" than otherwise, and,
once ON the voyage, he began to feel that
half his plan was accomplished But the
question as to how he was to prove his
own death bothered him considerably.
The ship had not, however, been day at
sea before most remarkable and fortu-
nate circumstance occurred.
Sir Toby was light sleeper and was
not very much at home in his uncomfort-
able quarters, SO the first night after
leaving Queenstown he paced the deck
for several hours In the course Of his
nocturnal ramble he kept meeting man
whom he could not help noticing from
the fact that he seemed desperately anx-
ious to avoid his, Sir Toby's, observation.
"Some thief or forger boiling" thought
Sir Toby, and he kept his eyes on the
man from idle curiosity, and gradually
qo11 H. Oh +1a 1ao1
watched him closely. Presently the man,
when he thought himself unobserved,
lid very strange thing; he took off his
coat and laid it carefully on the deck.
Then he glanced hurriedly round, mount
ed the bulwarks, and leaped into the sea.
One of the ships officers just caught sight
Of him as he disappeared, an alarm was
quickly raised, and the engines were re-
versed
No one had time to notice or to think
of the coat; but Sir Toby always prided
himself ON his presence of mind. In
stantly he seized it, tore off his own coat,
which contained the pocket book and the
papers, laid it down ON the deck and put
on the coat left behind by the suicide.
1t was master stroke, veritable in
spiration, and Sir Toby retired to his
berth knowing that the odds were at
least hundred to one against rescue.
AT his leisure he examined the pockets
Of the strangers garment; the only thing
of Importance it contained was letter,
apparently addressed to the dead mans
wife. ''As thought" said Sir Toby to
himself, when he read it at leisure; cor
binary case of forgery, cannot live any
longer-the usual bosh! don't think
Mrs. Bowston will ever get this letter"
And he burned it carefully, and night
or two later took an opportunity of
throwing the coat itself overheard.
''Now 1 am really all right he re-
fected.
There was great hue and cry in Lon
don when it was reported that Sir Toby
Bunslin had actually disappeared. Half
the detectives were employed to look fol-
him, advertisements were inserted by
the score, even placards were posted; no
exertion, in fact, and no expense were
spared to discover his whereabouts. But
not the slightest result followed until
the news arrived from America that Sir
Toby had jumped from an Atlantic
steamer and had, of course, been
drowned, leaving behind him coat,
in the pocket of which was pocketbook
containing cards and private papers, OBJ
viously belonging to the unfortunate
baronet
1t was nine days wonder; but as no.
body cared straw about Sir Toby when
alive, people soon grew tired of speculat-
ing as to the cause which had prompted
the crash act" And as soon as certain
necessary legal formalities had been COM
| piled with, Jack Bunskin found himself
Sir John Tobias Bunskin, Baronet, of
Bunsldn Hall and Grosvenor Square, and
the possessor of substantial rent roll
and goodly sum of ready money. Now,
it was not very likely that Jack should
feel any profound grief for his uncle.
The manner of the old mans death GER
tainly shocked him considerably, but the
pleasures and duties of his new position
speedily banished the unpleasant subject
from his mind
He had, too, plenty of things to look
after His creditors, of course, came
down upon him in hungry horde, and
the amount of post obits which he had to
pay off was quite alarming. Moreover,
he had no intention of leading the sober
and quiet life that had suited his uncle.
He bought a yacht, started small rae
ing stud and began to dabble in city
companies, all of which things demand
a considerable amount Of time and at
tention, not to mention money So a
couple of years passed.
Jack, in common parlance, went the
pace to the best of his ability; got HIM
self elected M. P. for one Of the divi-
sions of Fallowland, and finally became
engaged to Miss Hilda Grains, only
daughter and heiress of the late Sir
Joshua Grains, M. p, the well known
brewer and millionaire. There was, of
course, a very grand wedding, and in due
time the happy pair returned to London
from prolonged honeymoon trip on the
continent. When Jack had finished ex-
aiming pile of letters and other docu-
ments, he inquired of the family butler
whether he had any special news to COM
municate, for that individual looked like
a man burdened with guilty secret.
"It's my dooty to tell you, sir" said
Mr.. Flaggon mysteriously, "as an old
gent as been calling here every day for
the last week, and says as he must see
you"
us that ALP queried Jack.
mo, sir-he says he's your uncle"
my uncle! What id nonsense!
Why, the fellow must be q lunatic or an
impostor!"
Gust SO, sir; but we can't get rid Of
him, and / didn't like to give the poor
old idiot in charge"
Quite right; next time he comes I'll
see him
Oddly enough, half an hour afterward
the old gentleman returned, and Flaggon
promptly ushered him in
wei my man, A" said the new baronet,
and what can l do for your"
Jack" said the stranger, "do you
mean to say that you don't know me?
I'm your Uncle Toby-I am, indeed, and
not blessed soul recognizes mer'
Jack stared at his seedy visitor in as
constituent His clothes were shabby
and he wore hang dog look; his face
was disfgured in most remarkable
fashion, and the small remnant of hair
that he possessed stuck upright in a
strange tuft. He did not resemble the
late Sir Toby Bunskin in the slightest;
but the tone of his voice was horribly
familiar