The Tomahawk., 1903-05-21
The Mystery Of
Number 400
Copyright, 1908, by Daily Story Pub. Coz
Bv w. M. TALMADGE


THE first floor of No. 4O6 Evergreen
/ Terrace was occupied by Mr.. Ben
jamin Critics, gentleman OF family,
of reasonably ample fortune, OF de-
termined and not entirely gracious
disposition, and wife and one daugh-
ter, which daughter was exceedingly
fair and of marriageable age.
The second floor was occupied by
trio of gentlemen in the strictest
meaning of the term. Doverling, who
had the front room, directly over the
Critics door, was bookkeeper, and
he had been observed on more than
once occasion to wink at Dolly Critics
when she ascended the steps.
Klingman, who had the other front
room, was a newspaper young man,
and he never winked; he cleared his
throat with much zeal, and when Dol
ly glanced up at him, as she sometimes
did, am sorry to say, even after she
had penetrated his design, he waved
his hand and smiled. Once, embold-
ened by an answering smile, he had
raped upon the Critics door, his mind
fully set upon inviting the winning
creature to stroll. Mr.. Critics had
opened the door, and had closed it
again-bang!
These young men were source OF
great disquietude to Mr.. Critics. His
plans for the future of Dolly were
made, and he did not propose to have
them interefered with. A friend of
his, by name Golberg, by occupation
stock broker, was to be the young
woman's husband. True, Dolly did not
love Golberg. He was neither pretty,
witty nor young. But he was rich as
mud, and his wife would wear dia-
u.onds. When her ia ther had broached
tne subject to her, she had shed fewer
tears than he had expected. She had
acceded to the proposition with read
mess which, had there been another
suitor visible, would have aroused the
old gentleman's suspicious. AS it was,
he awkwardly dabbed a kiss upon her
forehead, and called her good and
dutiful girl.
But he did not relax his vigilance for
an instant. A state prisoner could
have been no more carefully guarded,
and it was astonishing to note how
the girl thrived under it all. Her let
ters were examined before she received
them. Her steps were dogged. Yet
the roses deepened in her cheeks, and
her eyes shone with a greater luster,
and song was upon her red lips from
morning until night.
This was somewhat mystifying to
Mr.. Critics.
Had he been in the confidence of
the second floor he might have learned
something. Mullane, an artist, who
occupied the two back rooms, was in
possession of information which would
have made the whole matter clear as
day. But Mr.. Critics was not in the
second floors confidence.
When the sound of Mul1ane's piano
filtered through the ceiling of the
back parlor, in which room the fam
lily was accustomed to spend it's even
ings, he delivered himself of remarks
both i'll natured and unjust. He re-
ferred to Mullane as a penniless
paint dauber and a spindle-legged
idiot, whereas, as a matter of fact,
Mullane was neither penniless nor
a dauber nor spindle-legged nor an
idiot; he was in receipt of a comfort
able income from his pictures, which
were bought eagerly by people who
knew more of art than Mr.. Critics
knew of pork, which is putting it
pretty strongly, and he was rather
exceptionally favored in point of per-
sonal appearance and qualities of
mind
Dolly might have told her father
these things had she been so minded.
But she did not choose to do so. She
sat at the piano, smile upon her
pretty face, her fingers wandering
idly over the keys, and gave no heed.
She was in that blissful state, known
only to those who tell their love and
are answered.
Dolly loved Mullane. The secret
may as well come out. They had
met but once, face to face. They had
chanced to be in the waiting-room at
the dentists one day and mutual
acquaintance had introduced them.
That was the beginning. 1t is
strange that Mrs. Critics did not
tell her husband of the circumstance,
for size had been with Dolly on that
occa sion. Afterwards a bit of paper,
49, eJra hol haer1