The Birmingham age-herald., 1907-07-14
"Who is this?" came the reply. u

dSkeQ.
 "Who Is this?" came the reply.
 I explained.
 MT. Wilson," was the delayed answer
 Gan IShave MT. Wilson on the wire?'
 MT Wilson Is in New York"
 Then kindly connect me with the cashier, MT. Mowbray," I said
 I hardly needed further corroboration but I took no chances. The wire clicked and buzzed and then emitted a muffled Hello"
 Hello. Did the National Bank advance to MT. Horner six months ago, a loan on a government bond which sub- sequently proved forgery?" I asked quickly
 The wire buzzed. Again came the de- mand who l was. Then came the ques- ton who was the authority for my state ment l said MT. Wilson.
 ''Then President Wilson will furnish any further information you may desire '' came the quick reply, and they rung off.
 l thought it would not be amiss to ac- quaint Jarvis. my right hand man, with some details oft he case.
 The following night at o'clock saw Jarvis and myself, both in plain clothes, at No. 542 Jerome avenue. It was a great, rambling, old fashioned structure, evidently one of the city's many relics of Colonial days It stood well in from the lonely avenue and had a we'll kept hedge in frnt, now stripped bare by the autumn wind. There was a light in the four windows, two on each side of the hall door. on the ground floor. In abso- lute silence we tiptoed along the grass, keeping off the walks and in the quarter circle of the building We were now un- derneath window on the ground floor on the right side of the house. With the exception of tht SC in the two front rooms, this window was the only one in the house that was lit up. The shale was down. l put my lips close to Jarvis large ear.
 Wait here in the shadows, underneath this window. Very likely I won't need you. But if you hear me whistle come through that window like hell! It's only six feet above you and by means of this drain pipe you can easily break through. It's the only way, for the doors are too solid. and if I need you at all, I'll need you quick
 Very good, sir
 Seasoned hand though I was, I must confess l experienced thrill of excite ment as I pulled the old-fashioned boil by the great hall door. Quick pattering footsteps sounded in the hall, bolt was drawn and I was confronting a pretty. rosy-cheeked, blond-haired grisette i1 snowy cap and apron.
 Good evening. I believe a friend of mine. MT. Wilson, is the guest of-'
 But she interrupted me with smile and a succession of jerky little nods
 "Oui, ou. Entrez sil vous plait Mon sieur eeS expected"
 I stepped into the richly furnished hall, with its marble floor and costly rugs, and divested myself of coat and hat
 If monsieur will follow" said the maid with another smile and a nod like the peck of a sparrow. Her trim, graceful figure preceded me down the we'll lighted hall. She threw open a door on her left and I entered. This was a large room ex- quisitely furnished and evidently used as a study. A log fire burned cheerily in the grate.
 If monsieur will make heemself com- fortable while I conform Monsieur Feeth- ian and ze monsieur's friend" she said graciously. She gave coquettish smile and pointed to a chair by the fire. nodded, and seating myself, stretched my hands to the blaze. Then l heard the door behind me open softly. l turned my hand stealing to my pistol pocket, ready for any emergency. But it haltef half way, then dropped quietly to my side. I was Joking into the business end of a forty-four Colts held in the steady hand of middle aged gray-haired gen. tleman with pince neg and clear com pleXion. Instinctively I felt that l had at last met the Professor"
 The unwavering muzzle of the revolver kep- on line with my head as my host crossed the room and seated himself in a Morris chair opposite men. He propped a leg in his lap and rested the blue barrel of the Colt upon his knee, the muzzle ever