Daily camera., 1901-10-03

guitar, and the last thing Macinanara
remembered was hearing rich tenor
voice singing popular melody.
The next morning when Macmanara
awoke he was i'll his own rocm. The
fire in the CRATE was burning cheerily,
and through the open door he could
see his valet preparing his bath. Out
side the sun was shining brightly,
taking away the snow ns fast as it
had fallen the night before.
what dream!" Mcnamara
thought. as he sprang out Of bed. His
clothes were hanging on the back Of
a chair, and there were tiny rivulets
where they had dripped the melted
snow. He went through his pockets
and his face fell. Yesterday he had
drawn $4,000 from the bank, vowing
in his heart to so as far from Louis
vile as the money would take him.
This morning there was not dollar
in his pockct-not even the little
pearl-haneled knife he had carried for
years.
When he went down to breakfast
his aunt, who was also his house
keeper, looked beyond him after say
ing good morning. evidently expect
ing to greet some one else.
"How mistaken one can be, Otis"
she said. II expected you to bring
company down to breakfast this
morning. for when 1 heard you come
home last night was sure some one
was with you"
"Maybe there was, and maybe there
wasn't. What would you say, aunt, IL
were to tell you | don't know?"
.If you were anyone else but Otis
Mcnamara l would say you were
drunk. but as you are Otis shall say
you are poking fun at your old aunt
When the papers were brought in
Mcnamara glanced over the head
lines of the Courier-Journal, as was
his custom, and the following fast
ened his eyes:
"AT THE MoRCUE."
Found drowned In the river at two o'clock
this morning. the body OF young man
OF medium size. fair complexion and a
blond mustache. A lace handkerchief
marked "Grac.e" wa. al! that was found In
the dead mans pockets.
"That's the Devil!" and with the ex-
clamation Mcnamara rushed for his
hat and overcoat, leaving his startled
aunt to think he had gone insane.
YES" the morgue keeper replied
to Macmanara's eager questions, 1.-THE
poor fellow was brought here at an
early hour this morning. This hand
kerchief was the only thing about
him, that may lead to his identity,
and that has only one chance in a
thousand. II his sweetheart reads
the morning papers-and Of course
the handkerchief is his sweetheart's
she will be here in short while,
and, IL she doesn't read them. he may
20 to his grave unnamed"
Mncmanara examined the features
Of the dead man closely. 1t was his
Devil OF the night before, minus the
black hair. In place OF which there
was a closely-cropped blond head. AS
Mcnamara was leaving the morgue
he almost ran over Grace Langdon.
who caught his arm and cried out:
"Oh, Otis. it is really you, and you
are not drowned, with my handker-
chief in your pocket? was going to
the OPERA" the little lady explained,
"and something got wrong with the
horses as we were leaving Chestnut
street, and the coachman stopped to
see what it was. Ny escort opened
the carriage door for the same pur-
pose, when / saw you and dropped
my handkerchief to see II you would
pick it up. and the way you pounced
upon it kept me happy for the rest
OF the evening. los. my opal ring.
too, but l don't care, for it was al
ways bringing me bad luck"
Macmanara thought of the ring as
be had last seen /. fash by the side
Of his scarfpin on a table with thou
sands of other jewels, but he did not
tell his wife-to-be of his adventure
with the Devil. He asked instead:
"Gracie, why is it q woman will tell
Q man no, make him feel all the mis-
cry of hades, when in her heart she
means yes?"
II don't know, Otis, unless it is to
make him understand how much he
cares and give him the pleasure OF
proposing over again." she answered,
happily.