The Providence news. (Providence [R.I.]) 1891-1906, 1895-09-17

this, and his face was very white.
"lt's luck 10 make one gnash the
teeth,' said he presently. "pd have
married her within the week"
"There's no reason why you shouldn't
now, sir said j. "always supposing
that it's well with him. But there are
! things TO do"
"You think so?"
Certainly; and If il was me concern
ed I'd be at the police station before the
clock struck again"
"Do you believe they would find him?'
"They might, or they might not; but
it would be over for you"
"I'll do that, said he. shortly
''Is there anything else?"
zone thing, said /. "This young fell
low has a father in America. III three days
pass and we hear nothing OF him, senj a
cable out to Boston, and advise that a
reward be offered--a big one, say ten
thousand dollars. Meanwhile offer re-
ward of two thousand francs yourself" F"
"But I'D have 10 pay. What's the
sense in that2"
"Sir," said 1, "if Mr.. Grey, OF Boston,
Will offer reward of ten thousand dollars
for the recovery of his son, there is one
man who will find him."
"And who is that, pray?"
"Myself.''
He looked at me with blank amaze
ment. Then he said, quite simply:
"Ye're clever man. I'd be sorry for
the day when we parted.
"But we must part, sir, " saidI
'Tis no time for nonsense, sure"
said he.
I'm TO find this man and TO claim this
reward the work must be done away from
here.
"where would 1t be dove, then?"
"From the house in the Rue Dupin,
where we lived two years ago."
He thought over it little while, and
then he said:
"It's the devil of head ye've got. How
did you come to think OF it?"
Common sense taught me, said L
"There's many worse friend, sir. !"
A week after this talk / left the Hotel
do Lille and took a lodging in a little
house in the Rue Dupin. Ii was the first
time in my life that ever I'd set to work
TO hunt man, and knew at the begin
ming of it that had stiff Job before me.
Notwit hstanding the light way we had
taken Michel Grey's disapeaarnce, seven
days had passed and no living soul had
heard a word of him. lie had gone like a
light in wind, and had left neither let
ter nor message. While some were bold
| enough TO say that Nicholas Steele could
have told the tale, the many were de-
ceived by the pains my master took TO
| trace the missing man. None the less, ii
/ was not hidden from me that the police
| were watching HIM, and that any minute
| he might be face TO face with the greatest
| peril of his life.
| My object in moving from the hotel to
the Rue Dupin was a simple one. JON
athan Grey, the father OF the missing
| man, had walked into the trap we bad
set for him like child into a sweetstuff-
shop. His answer To his daughter's cable
was immediate. "Offer the reward" he
said, and we had offered 1t. That 10 to
| say, we had printed a thousand bills and
| had burned them.
"Once get those bills about Paris, -
said l to Sir Nicholas, "and your man IS
here in a couple of hours. That don
suit us when ten thousand dollars are at
stake-not by n long way. II Michel
| Grey is to be found at all, I'm going to
| find him, and to bank half the reward in
my name. The other half is yours by
every right'
i've nothing TO say against that, ex-
! claimed he; "it's what l was thinking of
myself. But ye don't tell me who's to
claim the money, and all the world know
| ing that you're my servant. Ye don I
forget that ye're dealing with Yankees?"
81 forget nothing, sir, said /, "and
that's what takes me TO Rue Dupin. The
man who will claim the reward is my
friend, Jim Pascoe---''
"Whatl Jim Pascoe, the tout?''
"No other III there's anything in Paris
that's new to him should be glad to hear
of it. He'll do the job for hundred
| pounds and gladly"
"Ye don't fear To trust him?"
Fear" | replied, "why, j know
enough about Jim Psscoe to buy dozen
men,
This was true word, and half ali hour