Bonners Ferry herald. [volume] (Bonners Ferry, Idaho) 1904-current, 1908-05-09
q r a n v II e

MIN, replied the physician. bore the
postmark of Blois. That must be twenty
years ago, as near as can recollect"
The first thing Cassagne did on his
arrival in Paris was to call on his friend
and pupil. Charles D'Auburon. He found
him at home, his face glowing with sup
pressed enthusiasm.
Now" said Cassagne. tell us what
has happened? Have you found Jules
Chabot, and what progress have you made
toward getting acquainted"
II already knew him slightly" an
swered D'Auburon. ~ approached him
cautiously. because If he is really impl-
Gated in this matter he would naturally
be suspicious of any sudden show of
friendship. Fortune favored me. how
ever. | managed to lose n game Of bill
lizards to him at the Alliance this morn
ing, the stakes a luncheon at the Cafe
Anglais, whittier we repaired shortly af-
ter. What do you think that laundering
idiot Lablanche is doing? He has set
someone to shadowing Monsieur Chabot.
The fellow followed us In n cab.
thought we had given him the slip, but,
looking out of the windows of the Cafe
| Anglais there he was lounging against
lamp post and looking like a detective all
over. Did you ever hear of such cumsi-
ness in all your life?"
You must exercise your ingenuity, my
dear boy. A little thing like that shouldn't
| disturb you. Always recollect that In
this business 1t Is the man who keeps
cool that wins 1t is golden MAXIM"
D'Auburon was rapidly cooling. He
had been waiting all the evening for the
arrival of his friend to indulge in his
tirade against the project. He had deliv-
cred himself Then he became again, as
Cassagne put it, "a reasoning being"
Cassagne then gave D'Auburon a short
sketch of what had occurred at the Cha
teau Villeneuve. He finish his account
| by producing the little gold loclet.
| THE man who wore this was last heard
from at Blois. The owner of this locket
was the man who actually murdered Mad
anne Roupell. Whether he had accom-
plices or not 1t is hard at present to say.
The project argues, doubtless, from Jules
Chabot's presence in the chateau on the
night of the murder, that he is in some
way connected with 1t. My own opinion
is that it is a mere coincidence; nothing
more. Still it will not do to leave any
point uncovered. That's why | want you
to keep him well in sight. Do you seeT'
Il see, of course" responded D'Au-
huron. II can keep him in sight read
| lily. Meantime, what do you yourself pro-
pose to do? Go to Blois. | suppose"
Exactly, and l start tomorrow morn
ing That means l shall go to bed early
tonight. You must try and discover
this man Chabot's most intimate friends,
meanwhile. l may be gone for day or
so. Try and go where he goes, to be in
vited where he is invited; and above all
don't let Lablanche get ahead of us. He's
not such fool as you think. If he makes
| blunders. remember he makes remarkably
clever ones"
There was some talk of ball to-mor-
row night" remarked D'Auburon at
length, when he had we'll weighed the
others words-"a ball at the Vicomte de
Valiar's-"
"Ah do you know him?"
Eyes, as l know them all. l know OF
him. He IAN be got at if necessary. From
what Chabot dropped" continued D'Au-
huron, II believe he intends to be there.
He is quite in with the de vaiars, |
| undtAcldhNs lOu nave htdlQ VI ut va
liars, l suppose? Great financial nabob,
and all that sort of thing"
Cassagne nodded, quietly. you ought
certainly to be there. One never knows
what may happen"
"Now to find. in population of near
ly thirty thousand people, this one indi-
| vidual, this Henry Graham. who was last
heard from in this very city seven years
ago." soliloquized NJ. Cassagne. as he
stepped from his compartment on to the
platform of the little railway station and
saw frowning from above him the ancient
| castle of Blois. All the way down in the
train he had been busily occupied in plan
ming how he would find the human needle
Henry Graham, in the bundle of hay
Blois.
With nothing to guide him but his own
marvellous powers of reasoning. he now
started forth upon a search which ninety.
nine men out of a hundred would have
considered worse than useless. For il
was quite within the bounds of possibility
that the man he was looking for had lived
In Blois under another name than that OF
Henry Graham.
NJ. Cassagne sauntered quietly dowr
the curving, narrow main street of the
old town. By nightfall he had accom-
plished this He had had his hair dress
ed nearly twenty times, he had ordered
and paid for but barely tasted nearly
forty meals. He had discovered thai
there were exactly two inns for every
barber in the town of Bois. But nc
barber, and no innkeeper had been able
to inform him of such a person as Henry
Graham. NJ. Cassagne retired to rest II
the suggest hostelry in the town. th'
Golden Fleece.
Such progress did the detective max,
the next morning in the good graces o
NJ. Cratteau, the proprietor of the inn
that by the time the ancient gilt clocl
over the stables had chimed out the hal
hour. NJ. Cratteau and he were on excel
len terms, walking around the little gar
den and chatting and talking confiden
TALLY.
NJ. Cassagne was confiding a wonder
full fairy story. He was at Blois In tn
interests of little girl of whose person