The Mitchell capital. (Mitchell, Dakota [S.D.]) 1879-1918, 1908-10-16

i do not know" he replied.
You rromised. The poor children!
You promised to take them to see Clio
serie des Genets."
Il cannot tell. l do not know. I will
see" the little man said. My dear
Moniche. today is my fortieth birthday.
l promised to take them to the theater,
but l must go with YOU" Turning to
his wife, he added: But l will come
pack as soon as l can. Come, Moniche,
let US hasten to your M. Revere"
He kissed his wife on the forehead
n each little girl on both cheeks, and,
Swapping the camera in the bandolier.
he went out, followed by the tailor. AS
they walked quickly along Moniche'
kept repeating, Still NJ.
Eernardet. still warm.'
CHAPTER II.
Bernardet was quite an original
character Among the agents, some of
whom we're very odd, and amone the
devoted subalterns this little man, with
his singular mind. with his Unsuitable
curiosity. reading anything he could
lay his hands on, passed for a literary
person. His chief sometimes laughing
ly said to him:
literary ambitions. You will iG begin nat to
dream of writing for the papers,"
oh. no. M. Morel! But what would
YOU? l am simply amusing myself"
This was true. Bernardet was a born
hunter. With a superior education he
might have become a savant, a fire.
quenter OF libraries, passing his life in
working on documents and in deciph-
ering manuscripts. The son of a
dairyman. brought up in a Lam
c%astrial school. reading with avidity
ny everything mysterious which
happened In Paris, having accom-
p'lshed his military duty, he APP
piled for admission to the police bu-
reau. as he would have embarked for
the new world. for Mexico or for Ton
quln, IN order to ravel in a new coun-
try. Then he married, so that he
might nave in his checkered existence,
which was dangerous and wearying, a
haven of rest. n tireside Of peaceful Joy.
So he lived a double life, tracking
malefactors like a bloodhound and cul-
|tivatins his little garden. Their he
devoured old books. for which he had
paid a few sous at some book stall. n He
read and pasted in old odd leaves, re-
bound them himself and cut clippings
from papers. He filled his round, bald
head With a mass of facts which he in
v~estigated. classified, put into their
proper place, to be brought forth as
occasion demanded.
He was an inquisitive persona very
1nquisitive person indeed. Curiosity
filled his life. He performed with pleas
ure the most fatiguing and repulsive
tasks that fall to IA police officers lot.
They satisfied h original need Of his
thing, to hear everything. to penetrate
into the most curious mysteries-today,
in a dress suit with white tie, care
llessly Elancing. over the crowds at the
opera to discover the thieves who tool
opera glasses. which they sent to ac-
rn11NI IA NNt,N ~ t~ L.
morrow going in a ragged clothes to
arrest Il murderer in some cuttLroat
den In the Glaciere.
M. Barnardet had taken possession
of the office OF the most powerful
bankers, seized their books and made
them go away With him in q cab. He
had followed, by order, the intrigues
of more thar one fine lady, who owed
to him her salvation. What il M. Ber-
hardet had thought fit to speak? But
he never spoke, and reporters came out
worstea from any ATTEMPT at an inter
but silence is gold he was wont to
say for he was o a fool.
He had assisted ct spiritual seances
ana attended secret meetings of an
archists. He had occupied himself will,
occult matters, consulting the magi-
clans of chance, and he had at his
tongues end the list of conspirators
He knew the true names of the famous
Greeks who shuffied cards as one scouts
about under an assumed name. The
gambling hells were all familiar tc
him. Iie knew the churches in whose
dark corners associates assembled tc
talk of affairs, who did nOt wish to be
seen in beer shops OF spied upon In
cabarets. :.
OF the millions in Paris he knew the
secrets of this whirlpool of humanity
Oh. If he had ever become project OF
police, lie would have studied his
Paris. not at a distance, looking ur
statistics in books. or from the win
!dows of a police bureau, but in the
streets, in wretched lodgings, in novels
in the asylums of misery and of crime
But Bernardet was not ambitious. Life
suited him very we'll as he found 1t
His good wife had brought to him 9
with this poor little fortune. found tina,
he had all the power he wanted-the
power. when occasion demanded, OF
putting his hand on the shoulder of 9
former minister n OF taking a muir.
derer by the throat.
One day q financier, threatened Will
Imprisonment in Mazas. pleased hin
Very much. Bernardet entered his office
to arrest him. He did not wish to hav
Il row in the bank. The police officer
and banker found themselves alone
face to face. in a very small room. {
LHaNalG oAAlCe Will ueaNS curtains d1lt
a thick carpet, which stified all noise
Fifty thousand francs IL you will le
me escape" said the banker.
M. lie Comte jests."
"A hundred Thousand"
The pleasantly is very great. but !
Is a pleasantry.'
Then the count, very pale. said. "Ant
what il I crack yoa head?"
MY brother ofticsrS are waiting TO,
me-" Bernardet simply replied. The.
know that our interview does 40
promise to be a long one. and this las
proposition. which I wish to forget lik'
the others. would only aggravate. I be
lieve, II 1t became known. NJ. lie Comte'i
case"
Two minutes afterward the banle
went out. preceding Bernardet, VIII,
followed him with barred head. TIL