The Wahpeton times., 1890-01-16
THE SECRET OU'Tl.

'Jorlette will be on board the 7:S0 mail
train. Follow him to Liverpool Will
meet you there. Look sharp
CATHcARr."
This was the wording of the tele-
gram I received one wet ugly night
last December l was sitting in my
little snuggery back of my Office before
. blazing CRATE with my feet in slip
pers and my body in warm dressing
gown. I had a mug Of hot punch and
q cold mince pie on the table before
me, along with an uncut novel and a
genuine Havana, with which intend
ed to regale myself presently. And
although I had very strong anxiety
to secure Jorlette. it must be confessed
that I was altogether too comfortably
situated to relish going out into the
cold that dismally dirty night.
This telegram was from my chief,
who. might as we'll say. was detect
i've, and l had followed that thankless
and precarious business for several
years. People considered me very suc-
cessful in working up difficult cases, but
I was never quite satisfied with
myself. wonder if any man ever isP
This same Jorlette had given us q
great deal of trouble. We had never
had so keenly cunning a spirit to cope
with. Strategy was matched with
strategy, diplomacy with diplomacy,
and scores of times, when we were
sure of him, he had slipped from under
our fingers like a flea and left us won-
dering how he managed 1t.
Perhaps it would be we'll to explain
that Pierre Jorlette was a murderer,
upon whose head was set purse of
$4,000 by the crown. A Frenchman
and nobleman by birth, agentleman by
education, he had when very young
married a beautiful English girl, with
whom he passed two years Of unalloyed
happiness. At the end of that time
some fearful shadow came between
them-none knew OF what nature-and
the inhuman husband stabbed his wife
to the heart. Her confidential ma i'd
witnessed the deed and attempted to
save the life of her mistress, but Jor-
lette fell upon her with savage ferocity
and left the two corpses lying side by
side.
These are the facts as briefly as I
con state them to you. OF course there
were many minor circumstances not
worth recording, as they have little
bearing upon the short story I am
writing.
1t seemed from this telegram that
Jorlette was to be on the 1880 train. l
wondered how Cathcart had got his D.
formation; but he had armies of spies
constantly working for him, and
probably some of them had made the
discovery.
l had only to follow instructions.
For the hundredth time I took Jor-
lette's photograph from my. pocket
book and examined the features of the
murderer. 1t was singularly hand
some face that saw-clearly cut, with
large hazel eyes shaded by long. dark
lashes a mouth delicate and sensitive
as woman's. high, rather narrow
forehead, half hidden in clustering
curls OF auburn hair, form rather
spare, yet we'll knit, and hand SYM
rnetrical and rounded as woman's.
The picture would have answered
splendidly for that of sentimental,
sonnet-making poet-but for mur-
derer it was a dead failure. Neverthe-
less. somewhere in the past, before
crime had scathed him, Jorlette had
sat for it.
I changed my slippers for boots and
got myself inside my fur overcoat.
stuffed valise with brown paper and
blacking-brushes, that might appear
a respectable traveller, and, looking at
my watch. found that had just time
to reach the station.
The train stopped ten minutes for
refreshments, and taking the guard,
who was an old friend of mine, sutfi-
ciently into my confidence, I was given
an opportunity of looking through the
carriages previous to the starting of
train.
1t was full train, but singularly
enough, there was not red-headed
man on board of it. Jorlette was red
headed. and aside from that circum-
stance he had face which 1 Aattered
myself could not readily mistake.
AS stood irresolute and feeling
very much as if I had been fooled
there came toward me from the dining
room an individual, tall and spare,
with slouched hat, a white crayat, a
huge ,,,cce p.cc of game pie in his hand
dark eyes!
watched him closely. There was a
certain logged, skulking look about
MIN; he would not meet my eyes. and
walked off to the extreme end OF. the
platform by himself and remained there
muncing his pie until the last bell
rang, and then he hurried on board
with the air of one who felt that a
great deal depended on his getting q
seat.
I was convinced that he was my
man, though he was not altogether
like the photograph. Still, faces and
photographs differ a great deal, since
IN <ho ,,So&,,~o <ho~o e. 1sax1.