Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1910-07-14

a stupid fellow. He comes on from
Brussels every five or six months and
spends two night with us-never more,
never less. He eats his meals, attends
to his commissions for woodcarving,
takes Alice out once in the afternoon
or evening, gives my wife the money
for her board. and that's all. For five
years it's been the same. I've noticed
she's nervous just before his visits and
sort Of sad after them. My wife says
the girl has her worst dreams then"
II have it," Coquenil exclaimed
presently. "Tell me about this man
Francois"
"Francois? answered the sacristan
in surprise. "NNhy. he helps me with
the night work here. He takes two
meals with us a day"
"Ah! Do you think he would like to
make a hundred francs by doing moth
ing? And you would like to make
5OO?"
give hundred francs?" cried Bonnie
ton.
Don't be afraid" laughed the other.
when do you expect the wood
carver?'
He'll be here next Wednesday,"
Next Wednesday," reflected Coque-
nil. "He always comes when he says
he will?"
always, He's as regular as clock
work."
"And he spends two nights with
you?"
eyes,"
"That will be Wednesday night and
Thursday night of next week?"
eyes"
"Good! Now I'll show you how
you're going to make this money. I
want Francois to have a little vaca-
ton. He looks tired. I want him to go
into the country on Tuesday and stay
until Friday"
"And his work? Who will do his
work."
Coquenil tapped his breast.
II will take Francois place. I'll be
the best assistant you Eve had, and I
shall enjoy Mother Bonneton's cook
ing. None Of them will know me. You
won't know me YOURSELF"
"Ah, I see," nodded the old man
wisely. "You will have a Disguise"
II shall come on Tuesday. When do
you want me?"
Sat 6 o'clock" answered the sacris-
tan doubtfully. "But what shall 1 say
If any one asks me about it,"
"Say Francois was sick and you got
your old friend Matthew to replace
him for a few days. I'm Matthieu!
"You wouldn't get me into trouble,
M. Paul?" he appealed weakly.
Papa Bonneton," answered Coque-
nil earnestly, "have l ever shown you
anything but friendship? When old
Max died and you asked me to lend
you Caesar I did it, didn't I? And you
know what Caesar is to me. I love
that dog"
M. Paul held out his hand frankly,
and the sacristan took it with emotion.
"That settles it," he murmured. IT
never doubted you"
'"Then it's understood. Tuesday, at
6, your friend Matthew will be here to
replace Francois" The detective rose
to 60. He moved toward the door.
ooh. l forgot about the dog. Tignol
will come for him Tuesday morning
with a line from me. I shall want
Caesar in the afternoon, but I'll bring
him back at G."
Cali right" nodded the sacristan.
srHe'l be ready. Au revoir until Tues
day."
Things are marching along" smiled
Coquenil some minutes later to Papa
Tignol as they rolled along toward
the Eastern railway station. "You
know what you have to do. And I
know what I have to do. We meet
Tuesday at noon near the Auteuil sta
ton beneath the first arch Of the via
duct"
Coquenil had certainly chosen the
busiest end Of Paris for his meeting
with Papa Tignol.
Their rendezvous was at noon, but
two hours earlier Tignol took the train
at CAS SLs AdAdAS oLdIAOAs 01IO WALL
him came C~aesar-such q changed, un-
recognizable Caesar! Poor dog! His
beautiful, glossy coat of brown and
white had been clipped to ridiculous
shortness, and he crouched at the old
mans feet in evident humiliation.
ut was a shame, old fellow" said
Tignol co%nsolingly, "but we had to
obey orders, eh? Never mind, 1t will
grow out again."
Leaving the train at Auteuil, they
walked down the Rue la Fontaine to
a tavern nea the Rue Mozart, where
the old man left Caesar in charge Of
the proprietor, a friend Of his. It was
now a quarter to ii, and Tignol spent
the next hour riding back and forth on
the circular railway between Auteuil
and various other stations. He did
this because Coquenil had charged
him On ho ossrn ho eros noe %olloxunH