Year: 1877

wore instead of hat, close down over
his forehead.


could not see his face then, but, after
q time, when the cars stopped at o
small place about twenty miles from
Chicago, l saw the same man, with his
cap still ON, coming back along the
aisle.


had one glimpse of his face in the
mirror-a brief one-but in that instant
he lifted his eyes, and in the glass our
eyes met. He stood staring moment,
and then, with glance around him OF
savage bewilderment, dashed by and
disappeared.


1 cannot describe the creeping, icy
thrill which that one look, encountered
only in glass, sent through me.


The face, too, haunted me, more by
it's expression than it's features-a hand
some, wicked, sneering face, that fas-
cinated and repelled at the same mo-
ment-a face whose ghostly, Gvid white
ness it sickened me to remember, whose
terrible eyes in that one flash of meeting
had seemed to look abject fear and saw
age threatening at once.


1 covered down in my seat, and cov-
cred my face with my shawl, afraid to
look lest l should meet that awful glance
again, and finally fell asleep, not waking
till we were entering Chicago.


I had no baggage had left my trunk
to be sent in the next train-and 1 got
off at Twenty cond street.


AS left the car, remembered MOTTO
ing that one section In the middle of the
car remained undisturbed and closely
curtained still. The conductor had ad-
dressed the occupant several times, but
when she did not answer supposed her
to be still sleeping, and did not discover
that it was the sleep of death until after
the arrival of the train at the depot.


In consequence perhaps of my having
left the car at Twenty-second street, L
was not remembered, or called as wit
ness at the inquest, and as my sister was
married at II o'clock that day, and 1
went away with her to New York and
remained there some weeks after she
had sailed with her husband, / did not
happen to hear of the finding of that
dead girl in a sleeping-car, III long
time.


A year passed. My sister was still
abroad. l was having a good time in
society, of which was extremely fond.


/ had lately formed the acquaintance
of gentleman who brought letter of
introduction from my sister. He was an
Englshman, but had lived much in
Paris, and had met my sister there, and
had been able to extend her and her
husband some courtesies, which she in
her letter asked me to return as far as
lay in my power.


1 was obliged, therefore, to be polite
to the gentleman, though 1 had taken a
violent dislike to him. / could not ac-
count to myself for my aversion, but it
was insurmountable.


He was very handsome and distin-
guished looking, but 1 never met him
suddenly without start, and a chilly
shrinking as if l had met him some
where before, under terrifying circum-
stances. He seemed very rich, and I
am ashamed to say that, in spite of my
dislike, when he asked me to marry him
1 hesitated about refusing him, because
1 did not like to lose the eclat of being
attended by him-an attendance which
L knew the girls generally envied me. 1
did not give him a decided answer.


About this time, Ralph Winston came
home from California. Ralph and l had
been children together, and very easily
grew the best of friends now. The En-
glishman chanced to be in New York
when Ralph first came. The two met at
our house and in my presence, and it
was evident at sight that this was not
the first time they had met; and that
they entertained mutual dislike for
each other, though both acknowledged
the introduction like strangers.


"Have you ever met Mr.. Byers be-
fore 2" asked Ralph, at the first oppor-
tunity.


eyes"


"And you don't like him p


Ralph shook his head emphatically.


"Why notl"


"Do you know how he got his
money!"


"No."


"Well, I'll tell you, one of the pref
test girls in San Francisco fell in love
with his handsome face. She was a
rich heiress, and as good and true girl
hS SQe KNEW now 10 De. neT IaLner
hated Byers, and would never consent
to her marrying him. She would not
marry him without her fathers consent.
But Just as soon as she came of legal
age to do 80, she made her will, and gave
all her money to Byers, at her death.
She was visiting in Detroit afterwards,
and went away without telling her
friends there where she was going, or
even without taking a trunk with her.
The next they heard of her. she was
found dead in a sleeping-car at Chicago" +"


Here Ralph repeated to me those par
ticulars of the tragedy which I recounted
at the beginning of this recital.


"Byers, of course, got all her money"
Ralph went on, "and took it 80 greedily
and unscrupulously that everybody who
knew the circumstances was disgusted.
He was in Europe at the time Of her
death, aud came posting to California
after the money as soon as he heard of
it; and when he had got it, went posting
back again. Everybody In San Fran
CISCO despised him."


Ralphs story affected me very
strangely.


Was Byers suspected Of knowing
ANYTHING about her death !" i asked.