The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1900-01-12

ness. may be fool, but wanted 10
help you. Good-by, and forgive me-"
/ had not gone dozen steps when she
stopped me.
"Mr. Seymour" she said, quietly, and
with vast dignity for SO young girl,
you may be right; perhaps | ought
to thank you. But can't-you ought
| here there was suspicion of a sob
you ought to have known. / can for
| give you only when you find the thief
you are looking for. My father will
never forgive you."
She. turned away with the air of an
offended queen. But i fancied caught
the echo of another faint sob and that
fancy was of extraordinary comfort to
me for the next fortnight.
| / am afraid the Gazette got but indif-
ferent service out of me during those
next few weeks. went to the Boston
convention, and while I listened to
| speeches, dull and otherwise, my mind
was in the Manhattan library. As to
what happened during my absence Of
course knew nothing. When the con-
vention was over and could get back,
my first question to Burton, made with
as Indifferent an air as could muster,
concerned "Daisy's Quest
"Oh," he replied, 1--WE gave it up. The
detective merely wasted a week, twas
| thriving good money after bad"
breathed more freely, and for few
days tried to make myself believe that
had dismissed Miss Robertson and
"Daisy's Quest" from my mind. Sc.
| cretly, knew better. For a week
kept away from the neighborhood of
the library. Then one day / really had
occasion to consult book that knew
| was there and nowhere else; so / re-
solved to go. Surely had the right to
do so, and it would be idiotic to allow a
| morbid memory to interfere with my
business or even my pleasure. So /
went. TWAS just before the noon hour.
| There she sat as usual, her eyes fastened
upon her work. When the bell rang
greasy-looking chap in green goggles
and with siekly grin carried her books
| to the desk for her; and she thanked
| him with smile
Probably she was good deal of
firt. And probably was not the only
young man whose acquaintance she had
made in the street. / got away before
she saw me. Another week passed.
Life had lost its SAVIOR. 1t was of. no
use trying to deceive myself. Perhaps
| the best thing to do was to take up my
detective business again. l had made
so brilliant success of it already! But
that was the only avenue towards
reconciliation. She would forgive me
when / found the thief of "Daisy's
Quest" But where should begin? 1t
looked hopeless, and it might take
months--or years, Meantime that
greasy fellow in the green goggles
would be making headway; slowly, per-
haps, but the turtle got there in the end.
Suppose ! did take up "Daisy's
Quest" again and gave all my spare time
and money to the enterprise, what were
my chances of accomplishing anything?
If gave years to it, Miss Robertson
might at least give me credit for devo-
tion to the cause; might, and probably
would, grow thin and haggard-that
might touch her. But, again, might
devote no end of time and money to the
| case, and Miss Robertson be no wiser
and no better for it dn the end. still
had her umbrella; that was some COM
fort. If could only take it back to her
should be willing to undergo some of
the choicest tortures of the Spanish In
| QUESTION. The more pondered the less
light l saw ahead of me.
Twas at the lowest ebb of courage and
hope, and seriously thought of boldly
calling at Miss Robertson's house to re-
turn that umbrella, for life of the kind
led was not worth living, when some
thing occurred. Upon getting home to
dinner one night found dirty scrap
of paper with these words scrawled
upon it;
II can tell you where panders is to be
seen.
JAMES SULLIVAN.
Bartender at S1S East Thirteenth street"
My brain was on fire in minute. All
the whisky in Sullivan's saloon could
not have made it work at quicker pace.
No dinner for me that night. In ten
minutes / had. found cab and was
bowling along to 31s East Thirteenth
street. ! found my barkeeping friend
exasperatingly cool. / had expected to
find him eagerly waiting for me. On
the contrary, had tosintroduce myself
and refresh his memory with that FIVE
dollar bill before he could remember
much about Danders. Yes, Danders had
turned up again, but not in that saloon.
Sullivan had met him at the saloon of a
friend of his in Twenty-second street
near Ninth avenue, and upon making
inquiries had discovered that he (pan-
dersl was accustomed to spend most of
his evenings there.
Off ! started for Twenty-second
street. 1t was past eight o'clock when
sauntered into the saloon with as good
an air of Indifference as could sum-
mon up. Was Danders there2 Adozen
men were in the saloon, some playing
cards, some reading the papers or gos-
siping. In one corner was manwhose
face was strangely familiar to me.
sat down before glass of beer and
while pretending to read newspaper
studied Danders. 1t was Danders with
out a doubt-'sa small young fellow,
reddish hair, chin-wlfiskers, seedy
dress;" he filled Sulliyan's description.
But where had seen him before? i
have a capital memory, and was able
to reconstruct gradually the scene in
which Danders had played part in my
life. 1t was in some gloomy place. The
light was bad. The man was carrying