The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1910-08-06

 Castlemaine?"
 ''Yes."
 And was he the kind of man to give up so easiiy?''
 T do not think you quite realize the circumstances"
 II am trying to realize the man."
 ''Yes. but the letters found on the body"
 Ricordo laughed quietly.
 Did you say the body was identi- fled? Was it recognizable?"
 'tNo."
 "Ah,"
 "I was with him when he had given up all hope of ever winning Miss Cas- tlemaine," said Winfield. 'He was in state of utter despair"
 "A weak man might have commit ted suicide; but strong man, who had made a VOW like that-never."
 You do hot believe that Radford Leicester committed suicide 2"
 'I mean that such a man as you have described would rise again, even although he died"
 Winfield shook his head, and sigh cd
 "I knew Leicester. saw the state he was in. He was not a happy man before he met Miss Cas- tlemaine, then-wel, she became ev- erything to him. Afterwards, when he had by his own act made every thing impossible, what was left for him? He would say. Let me die, and have done with it.
 Again Ricordo laughed quietly. Were this Sprague and Purvis friends of his?" he asked presently.
 NO. He did not like either of them, and he vowed that if either of them ever breathed to Miss Castle maine anything about the wager, he would be revenged on them."
 And was he the kind of man to leave that VOW unfulflled ?"
 T believe he was in such state of despair that he was tired of life,' said Winfield.
 '"Then you believe that this Rad ford Leicester is dead?"
 "Yes, I believe he is.''
 They were walking along a ravine. On either side of them rose steep, precipitous cliffs. At their feet a moorland stream gurgled its way to the River Linden.
 "Winfeld,'' said the other, in alter ed tones, Hook at me closely. For get the brown skin and the black beard. Picture me little thinner and paler. Now. then, do you think Radford Leicester is dead?"
 He took off his fez, and stood face to face with the man to whom he spoke.
 That's it, look closer-feature by feature. Now then, do you believe Radford Leicester is dead?"
 ''NIy God,'' said Winfield. b "Ab," said the other quietly, "I thought you would recognize me if I put it to you truly"
 "But-but-''
 "Yes, you recognize my voice now k1 am no longer the Eastern gentle man with the quiet, musical voice. The dead man has risen, eh?"
 ''But, I say, Leicester--''
 ''Not yet, Winfield am Signor Abdul Ricordo. I have an Italian father and a Moorish mother, and I speak English with an Eastern voice, and with a slight accent. But l speak your language well. don't ?"
 TT can't believe it," stammered Winfield.
 ''Yes, you can. Why"-and he moved his shoulders like the Leices- ter of old-3"do you think I am a kind of thing fed on asses milk, a poor. weak, pulpy thing that would allow myself to be the plaything of woman and two cads like Sprague and Purvis? Did you believe that, Winfeld?"
 "Then you did not" Die? No. l went to hell, but did not die."
 "But, I say-I am dazed, bewilder- ed. I hardly know where I am. l ] have feeling that I shall wake up presently and find that have dream ed this.''
 The other laughed quietly, and Winfield detected the laughter of Radford Leicester of six years before. CTo be continued)