"I am looking for a Miss Fennetti, a drawing teacher."

"I am a drawing teacher," came the startling answer.

The detective for a moment was knocked endways, but he was a young officer of wonderful resource and he said:

"I am glad to meet you. I was told that you could tell me where I can find a gentleman named Argetti."

Our hero had manufactured the name, but the dark-eyed beauty with the glittering black eyes at once answered:

"I know Signor Argetti."

The detective was matched, but he discerned that he had not only caught a nibble, but a regular bite, and he was in danger of being bitten if he did not play just right.

He was the cool-headed, nervy man to do it, however, and he said:

"Will you furnish me the direction?"

"I will take you to his house."

"Oh, do you know where he lives?"

"Yes."

"Is it far from here?"

"Yes."

The girl had made a slip. She had given our hero a chance to hedge. She was bright and smart, but she would have been a mind-reader had she successfully parried our detective clear to the end of his diplomacy. He appeared to stop and think, and the girl asked:

"Shall I guide you?"

"I was thinking."

She exclaimed quickly:

"It is not very far. It will only take us about ten minutes."

While talking to the pretty Italian girl our hero was letting his glance wander around. He was looking for a bigger fish. The girl, meantime, raised her hand to her brow as though to recall something to her mind; as she did so Oscar observed a gem of rare value glittering on her finger, and mentally he ejaculated:

"Aha! I reckon I am getting into deep water."

"Will you go?" she asked.

"And you will guide me?"

"I will."

"My business with Mr. Argetti is not really pressing, but I will go for the pleasure of having such a lovely guide."

"Hold! hold! no flattery, please. I am merely obliging a stranger."

The girl's eyes flashed with a different light than that which illuminated them when her eyes embellished her smile.

"I don't mean to flatter you. I but spoke the truth."

"You wish to see Signor Argetti personally?"

"Yes."

"You will not be able to see him before night."

"And will I be compelled to wait until to-night?"

"To see him, yes."

"Can you not go and show me where his house is located, and then I can call upon him at my leisure?"

"I cannot go with you until to-night."

Again the girl smiled one of her bewildering smiles.

"At what hour shall I come here?"

"At about nine o'clock."

"And then I will surely find him at home?"

"Yes."

"And you will meet me to guide me to his home?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"At the railroad crossing."

"You will be there at nine?"

"I will."

"I will meet you and be very much obliged to you," said our hero, and raising his hat like an Italian count he walked away.

Oscar understood his risk, but he understood more. He knew that he was on the track of some one. A great game had been played. He connected all the little incidents—the face at the window, the dark face of a man with glittering eyes, then the woman so handily on the stoop of an adjoining house. Then again her admissions to a false identity, for our hero had invented both names that he had given the girl. All these little incidents proved that he had been observed, that he had aroused a suspicion as to his design, and that the observation and suspicion could only be aroused in one who feared something—possibly feared being seen and tracked.

After the girl had seen our hero pass from view, she entered the house at the window of which Oscar had seen the dark face. In the room was a desperate-looking man—a man one would fear to meet at night alone, for every lineament betrayed the man to be a desperate scoundrel.

When the girl returned the man asked, as she entered the room, he speaking in Italian:

"Who is he?"

"I do not know."

"What is his purpose?"

"I leave you to judge. I will repeat the conversation."

"Do so."

The girl exhibited a wonderful preciseness of memory by repeating every word that had passed between herself and the stranger. The man listened, and when the recital was concluded he said:

"You are bright; you intended to be very cute, but alas! if he is a foe, as I believe he is, he invented those names. He knows you confessed to an identity that is false, and therefore knows that there is something wrong."

"What will you do?"

"He is to meet you to-night?"

"Yes."

"You are to guide him to the house of Argetti."

"Yes."

"I will be Argetti and you shall introduce him to me. He will be led to the little cabin out on the marsh. I have had it fitted up for an emergency. After you have brought him to me you must be on the watch to learn if there are others at his back; if there is you must signal me, if not you must signal me."

"And then?"

The man laughed in a strange, weird manner and said:

"I have a grave under the cabin floor."

The girl's face assumed a very thoughtful expression.

"Well, what now?"

"You may be too rash."

"How?"

"I do not think there is any necessity for putting a body in the grave. You can play a shrewder game."

"I can?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"Maintain the character of Argetti."

"That depends."

"Upon what?"

"The discoveries I make concerning this man?"

"He appears very harmless, very much of a gentleman. He may not intend harm. He may not be a foe."

"I would be glad to agree with you, but I have experience. If he were an American, I would believe as you do, but he is English."

"How do you know he is English?"

"By his dress and walk. I observed him very closely."

"Suppose he is English?"

"Then he has come over here to look for me."

"That man is not a detective."

"He is not?"

"No."

"How do you know?"

"He is a weak and very dainty young gentleman."

"Is he?"

"Yes."

"Well, I tell you that when one becomes a fugitive he must judge people by their acts, not by their looks; I believe the man is either a detective, or a detective's decoy. His innocent looks aid his trick, but I will know after he has visited me in the cabin."

"Oh, I hope you will do him no harm."

"What! has his handsome face bewitched you?"

"No."

"It would appear so."

"I would save you."

"Save me?"

"Yes."

"By having me captured. No, no, girl, I know how to take care of myself. I've been fighting the police of different countries for too many years to fear an encounter now."

At the hour named our hero was on hand, but during the time he had been waiting he had become conscious that he was under surveillance, and the man who appeared to "dog" him was an Italian. The fellow was very cute in practicing his game of dodge and peep, and our hero was unable to see his face, so he finally determined to make it a counter dodge and peep, but his man dodged out of the way like the man at the window, and Oscar lost sight of him.

As stated, he appeared at the meeting place and the girl was there waiting for him.

"You are on time," he said.

"Yes, I am here."

"You are very kind."

"I promised."

"I will pay you for the trouble you have taken."

The girl was thoughtful and silent. She did not start, but stood, as intimated, lost in deep thought. Finally she asked:

"Will you tell me why you wish to meet Argetti?"

"I wish to ask him some questions."

"No, that is not your purpose."

"Well, no, that is not my purpose, but I am permitted to name my business to Argetti only."

The girl looked around in a furtive manner and said:

"Can I advise you?"

"Yes."

"Do not go to meet Argetti to-night."

"Why not?"

"Do not ask any questions, but heed my warning."

"Is it a warning?"

"Yes."

"Why do you warn me? Why should I be warned?"

"Argetti is a peculiar man—a very suspicious man."

"Well?"

"He is a man of very violent temper. His house is situated in a very lonely place. Should he become angry he could assault you and your cries would not be heard."

"Why should he assault me?"

"I cannot imagine, and yet I am warned that it is not best for you to go there to-night."

"Yes, I must go."

"Your business must be very urgent."

"It is."

"I have warned you."

"Yes, but you should give me more definite information."

"I cannot."

"What would you have me do?"

"Don't go, and I will tell him you failed to meet me."

"Aha! he is waiting for me. Then he knows of my intended visit?"

"Yes, that is why I did not guide you to his house this afternoon. I desired to prepare him for your visit."

The girl discovered her error by the admission that our hero was expected, but she was quick in seeking to repair her error and besides she was taking chances at best.

"I shall go and meet him."

"You are a gentleman."

"I trust so."

"I have warned you."

"You have."

"You will not betray me?"

"Not for my life."

"I believe you, and trust all will come out well, but I tell you plainly you are taking great chances as I am."

"You are?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"In warning you. If it were known that I had warned you it would cost me my life."

"You are very frank."

"I am."

"Why?"

"Because I fear you will be made the victim of another man."

"The victim of another man?"

"Yes."

"Explain."

"I told you Argetti had a foe."

"Yes."

"He knows that foe is seeking him."

"Yes."

"He has heard of your inquiring for him."

"Yes."

"He associates you with his enemy; if it were his enemy I would utter no words of warning, but believing you are my friend I warn you."

The detective put two and two together and at once concluded that the man who had been watching him during the afternoon was the foe of the so-called Argetti. This man had been watching our hero because he believed he was in communication with Argetti, or the individual whom the so-called Argetti represented.

The detective meditated and finally said:

"I must see Argetti."

"You fully comprehend what I have said?"

"I do."

"You know there is risk?"

"I do."

"You know that I have advised you in all sincerity?"

"Yes."

"Do you really go alone to meet Argetti?"

"I do."

"Very well, we will go."



CHAPTER VIII.

OUR HERO GOES TO THE LONE HOUSE ON THE MARSH—HE MEETS THE DESPERATE-LOOKING MAN AND SOME VERY FINE DIPLOMACY FOLLOWS, ALSO STRANGE AND WEIRD SUGGESTIONS.

The girl did not speak another word following her remark, or rather command, as recorded at the close of our preceding chapter; and soon she turned aside to take the path through the marsh, and for the first time spoke. She said:

"That is the house where you see the glimmer of a light."

"I thought that light was on some vessel in the bay."

"No, it is a cabin, and there is not another dwelling within a mile and a half at least."

"You have been very kind to warn me."

"Yes."

"Is the man's name Argetti whom we are to meet?"

"He will answer for Signor Argetti."

"He is a gentleman, I suppose."

At that moment the girl stopped short. She faced our hero and said:

"You have not kept faith with me."

"I have not?"

"No."

"How have I failed?"

"You have brought others with you. I tell you frankly I will warn Argetti."

"On my honor, I have not brought any one with me."

"We have been followed."

"Then our follower is the real foe of Argetti."

"Do you know him?"

"I do not."

"I shall warn Argetti."

"Do so."

"And you are willing that I should warn him?"

"Yes."

"I will tell him my suspicion."

"Very well, do so; there is no deceit in my visit to Signor Argetti."

The girl hesitated a moment and then said:

"Very well, I am but obeying orders all round. We will proceed."

Our hero was very handsomely attired, and he looked like a very effeminate young man—one who possessed neither courage nor stamina. Indeed, from his appearance, a resolute, sturdy man might expect to deal with him as he would with a mere boy. But our hero was one of those who expanded in a crisis.

The girl upon reaching the cabin rapped on the door and from the inside came the demand:

"Who's there?"

"I am here."

"Alone?"

"No, the gentleman is with me."

"Come in."

The girl pushed the cabin door open, and our hero entering found himself in a dimly-lighted apartment and in the presence of a villainous, dark-faced man. The latter eyed his visitor by the aid of the dim, flickering light shed abroad in the room by a sputtering candle.

"Be seated," said the man, and he spoke in fairly good English.

Our hero obeyed and expected the girl would tell the man that his visitor had not visited him unaccompanied, but she said nothing beyond asking:

"Shall I go?"

"Yes, you can go."

A moment later and Argetti, as the man chose to be called, and our hero were sitting face to face under the dim light of the sputtering candle. Argetti fixed his glittering eyes on our hero as though he would read him through and through, and at length, in a quick, sharp tone he said:

"You desire to see me?"

"Yes."

"Well, what is your purpose?"

"That's all," answered our hero coolly.

"That's all?"

"Yes."

"What do you mean?"

"What I say."

"But you desired to see me?"

"Yes."

"And I repeat why did you desire to see me?"

"I wanted to see what you looked like."

"And you have no special business with me?"

"No."

"Then why did you come here?"

"I wanted to see you, that's all."

"On what business?"

"No business. I merely desired to gratify my curiosity."

"Are you a fool or do you take me to be a fool?"

"Neither."

"Your conduct is so strange I do not know what to think."

"Can I trust you?"

"Yes."

"I am using you as a guy. I am seeking to fool a man."

Argetti stared with an amazed look upon his face, and our hero continued:

"Yes, I am using you as a decoy. I find I am being 'dogged,' by a certain man. He is on my track to-night. He was on my track this afternoon and I wished to act very mysterious and fool him, so when the girl asked my business this afternoon I told her I was looking for a gentleman named Argetti. My answer was a 'steer,' but the girl said she knew Argetti. I had invented the name and was surprised, so I conceived a desire to see the individual. I had, as it appears, individualized, for I knew no Argetti until the girl said she knew the man. Is your name Argetti?"

"Permit me, please, to think over what you have said, and to ask you a few questions."

"Good. I will answer your questions like a little man."

Argetti appeared more and more amazed, and he sat for a long time eyeing our hero without speaking one word. The interview would appear to have been very embarrassing. When Argetti spoke there was a depth of suppressed passion in his tone.

"Have you come here to amuse yourself at my expense?"

"Yes," came the bold and really insulting answer.

The Italian leaped to his feet exclaiming:

"You miserable little fool, I'll wring your neck as I'd wring the neck of a squab."

Oscar did not move or betray any fear or nervousness. He merely laughed his "hee, hee, hee!" and said soothingly:

"Now don't become violent, old fellow; don't become violent, even if I am having a little fun at your expense."

"You dare tell me you are here to have fun at my expense?"

"Certainly," came the brazen answer.

The very boldness and indifference of the detective appeared so paralyze to the Italian.

"Do you know the risk you take?"

"Certainly."

"You think I am a mere puppet for your amusement?"

"Certainly, but don't get violent, for I am an awful fellow when I get roused. Sometimes I have a spell come over me—yes, a strange sort of spell—and then I become very, very violent. So don't arouse me and bring on one of those spells. Just sit down and let me amuse myself at your expense. This is a very novel amusement for me. The idea of facing a terrible man right in his den and enraging him. Why, it's just jolly."

The Italian's eyes glowed like coals of fire as he said:

"You are lying; you came here with a purpose; you came back with friends whom you think you can summon at a moment's notice; but they will never come; I have taken care of them, and you are at my mercy. I have a grave all prepared under this flooring, and unless you give a satisfactory explanation of your visit here you will occupy that grave."

"Well, well, you are very amusing. You act just like some terrible brigand. I guess you were a brigand in your own country."

The words had just escaped our hero's lips when with a yell the Italian leaped upon him. Oscar was prepared for the spring. He leaped to his feet in time to meet his assailant, and in true fistic style, as the man attempted to seize hold of him, our hero let fly and caught his dark-faced assailant on the chin and over the man went. But with a yell he leaped to his feet, drew a poniard and made a rush; but here our hero, cool as an icicle, was prepared for the would-be murderer. He had drawn a club, dealt the Italian a blow on the hand which knocked the knife from his grasp, and then dealt him a powerful stroke on the head which brought him to his knees, and at the same instant the door opened and the Italian girl peeped into the room. She immediately withdrew. Our hero had the so-called Argetti laid out. The man was not only dazed by the force of the blow, but he was paralyzed with surprise. Here he, a great, powerful bull-necked man, had been knocked down with perfect ease apparently by an effeminate dude, and when he had drawn his knife he was disarmed and brought to his knees with blows from a club in the hands of the same dude in appearance. The Italian recovered from his surprise and curses fell from his foaming lips. He looked like a raging demon, so great was his anger—he leaped to his feet and sought to seize hold of a stool, but ere he could do so he received a second rap on the head which knocked him face foremost to the floor; then Oscar sprang forward, rolled the man over and clapped a pair of darbies on his wrists, and having his man thus helpless he coolly returned, took his seat and waited for the man to arise and speak. The man rolled over and lay on his back and glared at his conqueror.

"Well, Argetti," said Oscar with his "hee, hee, hee!—you have come to grief. Well, you are a very violent man. I warned you—hee, hee—yes, I told you I was bad when aroused; that I was subject to strange spells. You believe me now, and please just lie still and let me amuse myself. You have given me more amusement than I expected. I like to knock men down and bring them around—it's real fun."

"You will pay for this fun."

"Yes, certainly, I intend to give you half a dollar, and—hee, hee, hee—that's an awful big sum of money for just a little amusement. I once gave a dollar for the privilege of beating a man almost to death, but I nearly killed him, you know, and I've only hammered you just a little—yes, just a little—I did give you one hard rap, though—yes, one hard rap—hee, hee, hee!"

The agonies expressed in the face of Argetti are indescribable. He glared and writhed, and his face worked as though in a convulsion, but when he managed to calm himself sufficiently to again speak he said:

"Now, I am at your mercy, why am I arrested?"

"Arrested?"

"Yes."

"Who said anything about arrest?"

The man held up his manacled hands.

"Ah, that is a part of my amusement; but here, let's see if you know anything? Are you acquainted with Alphonse Donetti?"

A look of abject terror succeeded the former expression of rage and disappointment that had distorted Argetti's face, and when our hero saw this change to a look of terror there came a rapid beating of his own heart.

"I never heard the name. It is another name of your invention, I think."

The detective laughed and said:

"How strange it is that I so readily invent names of real personages. Why, I really begin to suspect that your name is truly Argetti."

"Why did you ask about Alphonse Donetti?"

"Then you do know him?"

"No, but as you have mentioned that name it may aid me in explaining some grave mistake that has been made in my arrest."

"Oh, there is no such person as Donetti. I was fooling you—hee, hee, hee—but don't you know why the irons were put on you?"

"I do not."

"You have a short memory."

"My memory don't aid me in that direction."

"It don't?"

"No."

"Then you must forget that without provocation you set to murder me, and you have the cheek to ask why you are arrested, and intimate there has been a mistake. No, no, there has been no mistake. You were arrested for an assault upon me—an attempt to murder me."

"But you are an intruder in my house—you may be a robber."

"I beg your pardon, I was introduced into your house, and you rather inveigled me here. I didn't know before, but now I begin to suspect that you are a very bad man. It is possible that you have committed a very serious crime in Italy, or you wouldn't be so infernally sensitive—hee, hee, hee!"

When our hero made an allusion to a possible crime in Italy the man actually groaned, but said nothing.

Our hero had his prisoner, and the question arose, What should he do with him? He had started out alone; he had no one to aid him. For some time he meditated. It was necessary to have some charge upon which to arrest the man, and he determined to carry out a bold proceeding. He tied and bound his man, so he could not move. Indeed, without assistance it would have been impossible for him to get free, and during the process, Argetti, as we will call him, said:

"You will regret what you are doing. I am a person of some quality, and you will be held to a bitter responsibility."

"Very well, I like to hold responsibilities, that will just suit me—hee, hee, hee!"

Having secured and gagged his man our hero slipped forth from the cottage. He looked around for the Italian girl. He did not see her, and he muttered:

"Hang it! I am anchored here; that girl will steal in and release the man." Even as our hero spoke he heard a shrill scream, and it was the voice of a female and not very far distant. He started at a run in the direction from which the scream had come and quickly arrived at a point where he beheld a man struggling with a woman. Oscar dashed forward, the man saw him, released the girl, and our hero saw her fall to the ground. He believed a murder had been committed and he ran past the girl to secure the murderer. The latter proved fleet of foot, and most mysteriously disappeared. He vanished as completely as though he had been suddenly dissolved into air.

"Well, that gets me," he ejaculated, and after standing for some minutes looking in every direction, he returned to where the girl lay. He expected to find her dead, but as our hero approached she rose to her feet.

"Thank heaven!" ejaculated Oscar, "I thought you had been murdered."

"I believe he intended to murder me and he might just as well have succeeded—my life is forfeited now."

"Your life is forfeited?"

"Yes."

"Why do you say that?"

"Those men suspect me; you have given my life away."

"I have given your life away?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"By your assault upon Argetti. I did not suspect that were an officer. They will claim that I knew—that I was in league with you, and led Argetti into the trap."

"Is that man's name Argetti?"

"No, but that is the name you gave him. We will speak of him as Argetti."

"You know his real name?"

"I do."

"What is his real name?"

"I dare not tell you. I have already forfeited my life."

"Who is the man you were struggling with?"

"One of Argetti's confederates—one of the gang."

"You need not fear to confide in me. You have not forfeited your life. You shall be protected at all hazards."

"Ah, you do not know."

"Do not know what?"

"The desperate character of these men."

"What relation do you bear to these men?"

"I am an orphan; my parents died in an English poor-house. This man Argetti adopted me as his child. I have traveled all over the world with him, but now I must flee away and hide somewhere."

"You need not flee away. Argetti, as we call him, can do you no harm. We will take care of him."

"But his confederates. Already one of them has made an attempt to strangle me."

"Who was the man?"

"I did not recognize him. Probably Argetti had him as a reserve after he had settled you. Oh, how unfortunate I am, to be associated with these men, and yet I have never committed a crime. I have no proof concerning any particular crime they have committed, and yet I am sure they are criminals. But see there!" suddenly exclaimed the girl, pointing to a shining object lying on the ground.



CHAPTER IX.

OSCAR PRESSES FORWARD AND MAKES SOME STARTLING DISCOVERIES—ALSO ENCOUNTERS A CONTINUOUS LINE OF ADVENTURES.

Dudie Dunne did not know whether to believe the girl's statements or not. He was compelled to admit a partial verification, as he certainly had seen her struggling in the hands of a man, and again there was no need for her to announce the fact that Argetti was a criminal unless she spoke the truth. He stooped down and picked up the glittering object from the ground. It proved to be a small miniature that could be worn on a watch chain. He drew his little mask lantern, flashed its light on the painted face, and uttered a cry of amazement. It was a most thrilling revelation that came to him. It was beyond all question the face of Alphonse Donetti. It had probably been torn off his guard chain during his struggle with the girl. He was a confederate of Argetti. He was a would-be assassin. Alas! he had no cheerful news for poor Alice Frewen, but he was verging toward a startling discovery, leading up to a clue to the solution of the Roman robbery and murder.

"What is it?" asked the girl.

"It's a miniature."

"Let me see it."

Oscar held the light on the picture so the girl could see it. She looked at it intently and said:

"He is one I never saw before, but he is undoubtedly a confederate, and he believes I betrayed Argetti. It is a wonder he did not attack you."

"He merely sought to revenge his pals on you; but now what shall we do?"

"I must flee away."

"No, you will go with me. I will find a home for you."

As the detective spoke he flashed the light of his lantern square on the girl's face. Hers was indeed a remarkable face. She was very beautiful, and there was an expression upon it which Oscar, despite his discerning powers, could not interpret.

"Do you wish me to go with you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"You have done me a service and in so doing have run yourself into peril. I must see that no harm comes to you."

"You may intend to use me as a witness."

"It is possible."

"Then I cannot go with you. I will never turn against that man."

"Are you under any obligations to him?"

"He never abused me. He was fond of me—treated me with great kindness, although he is a very desperate man. No, you must be satisfied with what service I have done you; I can never turn witness against him. I trust to your generosity to save me this trial."

"I will promise not to call upon you as a witness."

"I had long determined to flee away. I was not satisfied with my life with that man, although I cannot complain of his treatment. He gave me plenty of money, bought me expensive clothing, gave me jewels. He claims I am his niece; I do not believe it is a true claim."

"You say he gave you jewels?"

"Yes."

"Then he must have money."

"He is rich."

"How it is he lives in such miserable quarters?"

"That is a hiding place. He dwells there to hide his identity, but he has an elegant residence in New York. It is only within the last few weeks that he took up his abode in those miserable quarters where you found me."

"You were disposed to act as his confederate when I first met you."

"Yes, but I relented and I tried to give you warning; you would not heed me."

Our hero recalled the warning words, and she continued:

"I suddenly resolved to carry out my design and flee away. I wished to save your life, for I believed you were in peril. When you passed our house he looked from the window and concluded you were searching for him. He evidently within the last few weeks has feared pursuit. I acted under his instructions. I did not dare refuse, but I did seek to save you. Then I concluded you were perfectly able to take care of yourself. The result proves my conclusion correct."

Our hero had obtained a great deal of suggestive information, but a little discovery had caused him considerable discomfort. He had hoped to reach a different result in his investigations concerning Alphonse Donetti. He feared now that the very worst construction must be placed upon his character and career.

"Where is the house of Argetti in New York located?" he asked.

"I cannot tell you."

"You do not know?"

"I know, yes, for in that house are many articles of great value belonging to me."

"Presents from Argetti?"

"Yes."

"I am afraid it is dangerous property for you to claim."

"I shall never claim anything except the money. I will need that when I flee."

"Where will you go? Will you return to Italy?"

"No, I dare not go there."

"And your money is in that house?"

"Yes."

"Let me see. We will go to New York at once, and you shall go and get the money and then report back to me."

"No, I shall not go there to-night."

"Why not?"

The girl made no answer.

The detective again meditated; he recognized that he had a very bright and shrewd person to deal with, and he said:

"Very well, then return to your humbler home to-night, and I will call out and see you to-morrow."

"No, I will not return there."

"Why not?"

"I dare not. The attack upon me proves that I am under suspicion. Argetti's friends would not spare me."

"Do his neighbors know his character?"

"No."

"Did he have visitors at the house where I first met you?"

"No."

"Then how do you know he has those confederates?

"They called upon him frequently at his home in New York. They must have warned him of danger."

"You can return to your late home. Argetti will not return to that house. I shall take him to New York as a prisoner."

"Then I must disappear at once."

"Will you meet me to-morrow?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

"I will meet you to-morrow night."

"In New York?"

"Yes."

"Very well, meet me at ——." Our hero named a place and said he would walk back with her. She asked to be permitted to proceed alone.

"Very well, I shall remain here until morning to watch my prisoner, but to-morrow night I will meet you in New York at the place named."

"I will meet you," said the girl.

The reader will learn later on why our hero was apparently so slack in permitting the girl, under all the circumstances, to go away alone. She started off and he returned to the cabin. Once inside he determined to take great chances. He did not remain in the cabin, but returned by a straight cut across the meadows to the vicinity of the row of houses where Argetti had his home. His wisdom was justified. He saw the girl enter the house. He lay round and later saw her come forth, although it was after midnight. He had worked a transform and started on the track. She took the cars for New York; he rode with the engineer on the engine of the elevated train. She did not see him when she reached the ferry. He crossed with her and on the New York side luck favored him. He met a brother detective. He had just time to give the latter some directions, and he fell to the girl's trail again. He had made up his mind as to the course he would take, and again his conclusions were justified in the most startling manner. He had anticipated her design and in following her he had been compelled to be very careful, for he speedily discerned that she was on the watch against being followed. She evidently suspected that she would be, and Oscar had lain very close in order to avoid observation, but he was delighted at the prospect of witnessing the verification of his suspicions. The girl finally arrived in front of a very nice house—one of those narrow houses to be found uptown in New York in very stylish neighborhoods. The detective was actually compelled to throw himself at full length beside the curb in order to avoid observation, and he actually crept forward like a huge snail, for the girl was very cute and careful in ascertaining whether she was being followed or not. At length our hero's patience and endurance were rewarded; he saw the girl ascend the stoop of a house, produce a key and enter; and he then knew that she had returned to the lodging place back of Brooklyn—to Argetti's poorer quarters—for the very purpose of getting this key. She passed inside the house, and then Dunne rose to his feet, ran forward and darted down to the basement door of the house. Once under the stoop it took him but a little time to open the door, and he too passed inside the house. He did not stop to take observations, but hastened up the stairs, and in the rear room on the second floor he saw the glimmer of a light. It was a critical moment, but he was a winner. He made no hesitation in entering the room. He did not stop to watch the girl. He was fully satisfied in having located the house. He felt he could trust himself for all other discoveries. He peeped into the room and beheld the girl standing before a mirror, and for the first time only realized how singularly beautiful she was. He stepped into the room; the girl was so intent gazing at her beautiful self in the mirror she did not hear his entrance, but suddenly as she beheld his reflection in the glass she uttered a suppressed scream and turned and faced him with the startled exclamation, "You here!"

"Yes."

"This is treachery."

Oscar smiled and said:

"Do not use so harsh a term."

"It is indeed treachery; you were to meet me to-morrow night."

"Yes, and I will. I did not meet you this time, I followed you."

"You now have sealed my doom. They will follow me to the end of the world. They will know beyond all question that I am a traitress, or they will assume so."

"I repeat, you need not fear these men."

"I do not see how you succeeded in following me. I thought it possible and I watched; you were very clever."

"Cleverness comes in the way of business with me."

"What did you do with Argetti?"

"He will be in jail ere sunrise."

"Then ere sunrise I must be as far from New York as I can get."

"You will not get far."

"I will not get far?"

"No."

"What do you mean?" demanded the girl, her face assuming a ghastly hue.

"You are not the master of your own movements."

The look that overspread the beautiful girl's face was pitiful to behold, and she exclaimed in a tone of heartbreaking sadness:

"Then you have betrayed me."

"No, I have not betrayed you. I have simply made you my prisoner."

"I am your prisoner?"

"Yes."

Our hero spoke in a stern voice.

There came a look of agony to the girl's face as she murmured:

"It is as I feared; it is all over."

As she spoke she drew something from the bosom of her dress and was carrying it to her lips, but the detective was too quick for her. He leaped forward and seized her wrist. She sought to struggle, but in his powerful grasp her struggles soon ceased, and as she stood pale, trembling and helpless, she said:

"Please let me die."

"Why do you wish to die?"

"I do not want to live."

"Answer me one question: are you a criminal, and do you fear to live?"

"I am not a criminal. What I told you was the truth."

"Then why do you wish to die?"

"Better die now and at once rather than endure the agonies of constant suspense. Let me die, and I will but anticipate the dagger of the assassin."

"What is your name?"

"What difference does it make to you?"

"Tell me."

"My name is Caroline Metti."

"Caroline, if what you told me earlier in the night was the truth this is the most fortunate night of your life; you have more reason to desire to live now than you ever had before."

"Do not mock and taunt me."

"I am neither mocking nor taunting you. I am telling you the truth."

"I do not understand what you mean."

"You will have different surroundings the rest of your life. You have won my interest and sympathy."

"And yet you have made me your prisoner."

"Only to save you against yourself. I would not bring harm to a hair of your head. I desire to save your life and your soul."

"Why?"

"Because I believe you are an unfortunate person and that you mean well, and now as far as these men are concerned you are free from them forever, I care not how many there are of them. Argetti is doomed, and every one of his friends, including the man who assailed you, will either be captured or driven from the country. A way will be provided for you to support yourself in independence. That is what I mean, and now I have something to tell you. I will be compelled to treat you as a prisoner for a little while. I do not wish to make you a party in any way to what I propose to do."

The girl appeared perplexed when our hero put handcuffs on her wrists, and after a moment in a very disconsolate tone she said: "I am not deceived; I know I am doomed. Very well, proceed. The time will come when I will have a chance to free myself."



CHAPTER X.

OSCAR MAKES A THOROUGH SEARCH OF THE HOUSE, AND AT FIRST ONLY FINDS CERTAIN CLEWS, BUT IN THE END HE MAKES A GREAT DISCOVERY.

Dudie Dunne, having a certain purpose to carry out, paid little heed to the girl's disconsolate remarks. He knew that she would be all right in the end. He commenced and searched that house from top to bottom, and found many little articles which he put aside for future reference. He also made notes of several matters, and finally, concluding his search, he returned to the room where he had left the girl Caroline. He found her sitting on a chair, her head cast down, and she was evidently lost in deep thought. "Come," he said, "we will go."

"We will go?"

"Yes."

"You intend to keep me a prisoner?"

"Yes, for the present, and for your own safety. Some very startling events are transpiring, and it is necessary for your own safety that you should be in a safe place."

The detective led the girl to the home of a woman who had once been a prison matron. She was a very able woman. He placed the girl Caroline in this woman's charge with full instructions how to act. He had permitted the girl to take what she desired from the house, but to his surprise she took but very little—none of the elegant clothes—-none of the gems; even the ring she wore on her finger she cast upon the bureau. Our hero did not urge her to take anything, but he did secure these gems, holding them for future identification.

On the day following the incidents we have described, Oscar visited headquarters and learned that the chief had received a telegram stating that a representative of the illustrious Roman family was already on his way to New York and would probably arrive almost any day.

"He must have started for New York immediately following the sending of the cablegram."

"Yes."

"You telegraphed no particulars."

"No, I suppose they believe we have certain clews, and instead of writing they have determined to come direct to New York."

"So much the better. I believe we will have some very startling news for this representative when he arrives."

The chief and Oscar had some further conversation, the nature of which will be explained later on.

Several days passed and our hero devoted himself to one object. He tried to trail down Alphonse Donetti. In the meantime he held an interview with Alice Frewen. He had discovered the extraordinary interest of that fair, innocent, but resolute girl in the young Frenchman, and he sought to prepare her for the terrible revelations that were to come. Oscar was thoroughly convinced that young Donetti was a villain of the worst type and the confederate of villains. He was convinced that the young man had been concerned in the Roman robbery.

One evening he called at the home of Mrs. Frewen. The latter was out, but Alice came down to meet the officer. Her manner was like one under a great mental strain.

"What have you learned?" she asked.

"Miss Frewen," said our hero, "I wish you would let me know just the extent of your interest in this young man."

"My interest in him is kept alive because of my absolute belief in his innocence. I believe he has been wronged from his cradle. I believe that under terrible temptations he has remained honorable and true."

"But has he not to your knowledge led a rather fast life in Paris?"

"I have no proof that he has."

"Answer me one more question: Have you communicated with him since he has been in America?"

The girl started and exclaimed:

"Then you know he is in America?"

"Yes, I have the most positive proof that he is in America."

"Have you seen him?"

"Yes, I have seen him."

"Why do you not tell me all about it?"

"Because I do not know how deeply I may wound you if I tell you the whole truth."

"If the truth, as you term it, is a reflection upon his honor you need not fear to tell me, for I know that you have been misled."

"You are firm in your trust in his honor and good character?"

"I am."

"Poor girl! you are infatuated and deceived."

"You may think so."

"I have the proofs."

"Satisfactory to you, no doubt, but not proofs after all."

"I know he is associated with vile characters."

"I don't doubt it," came the answer.

"You don't doubt it?"

"No."

The detective gazed aghast as he exclaimed:

"And you still maintain his integrity?"

"I do."

"I cannot understand."

"No; some day you will understand it."

"I saw him attempt a crime. I prevented him from committing what I believe would have been a murder."

"Not a murder," replied Alice.

Oscar Dunne was no fool, but he was perplexed, for he discovered at last that the girl Alice possessed certain information that she was withholding.

"There is something you know that you have not revealed to me."

"I know that Alphonse is an honorable man and incapable of committing a crime."

"You had better reveal everything to me."

"I have revealed all there is to reveal. He is an honorable man, and in the end will establish his character before the world. He has a powerful enemy, one who should be his first friend, but the day will come when his honor will be fully vindicated, and he will stand before the world with a splendid reputation. I know it, and now all I can say to you is, hold your judgment until the denouement."

When Oscar left the presence of Alice he had subject for considerable meditation. "That girl knows something," he said. He walked along thinking over the dialogue, when suddenly his attention was attracted by a struggle. He saw several men slashing at each other with knives, as he recognized by occasional bright steel gleams under the gaslight. He always carried his club with him. He ran forward and, seeing two against one, went for the two who he observed were the assailants, while the other was acting on the defensive. Oscar drew his club, and the men were so intent upon their scheme of murder they did not mind his approach, but two raps from his club sent both to the ground, and when they regained their feet they made off, while our hero sought to learn the cause of the attack from the party who had been assailed.

The man had staggered up against a railing in front of a house and his drooping attitude revealed to our hero that he was wounded.

"You are injured," said our hero.

"Yes, the cowards came upon me from behind and plunged their knives into me."

Oscar approached closer to the man and with a start that almost caused him to utter an unguarded exclamation he recognized the wounded man as Alphonse Donetti.

"You had better let me take you to a hospital."

"No, I am much obliged. I will not go to a hospital. I can take care of myself. If I live you will have saved my life, for they intended to finish me. I thank you for your intervention. I will be able to reach my home and will send for a surgeon."

"Permit me to call a carriage, and I will accompany you to your home."

The wounded man looked closely at our hero, saw that he was a gentleman, and said:

"Yes, I need some one to close my eyes. You appear to be a kind man; if it is not too much trouble secure a carriage."

Oscar did not have to go far before he found a carriage, and when he returned he found the young man still alive and apparently, under all the circumstances, singularly strong.

He assisted him into the carriage and asked:

"Where shall we drive?"

"I don't know. I'll not go to my hotel in this condition; it will occasion too much talk."

"Will you let me take you to a lodging where your condition will not attract attention?"

"Yes; I will see that you are well remunerated."

Oscar and several of the detectives had a house, an emergency house they called it. It was the very house to which he had taken Caroline Metti. He told the driver where to go and in a few moments the carriage came to a halt. Our hero discharged the coach and assisted his companion into the house, led him up the stairs to a room on the second floor, and Mrs. Keller, the woman, appeared to ask if she could be of any service.

"I will summon you if I need you," was the answer.

In the carriage the wounded man had said:

"Do not send for a physician until I learn the full extent of my wound."

Once in the room the young man looked at our hero and at once exclaimed:

"What! you?"

"Aha! you have seen me before!"

"I have."

"When and where?"

"We will not discuss it now. We will look at my wound."

The young man tore off his clothing, and going to a mirror began to look himself over. He was as cool as though merely looking for a wart. Oscar also was cool and aided in the examination.

The young man Alphonse Donetti, after a moment, said:

"I am fortunate."

"You are?"

"See, it is not a bad wound; the rascal meant to drive the knife through my heart from behind. He has merely driven his blade deep into my shoulder. I can take care of this wound myself. I do not need a surgeon."

The young man gave directions—indeed he appeared to know as well what to do as a surgeon; and one fact impressed itself upon our hero's mind: the fact that the wounded man was prepared to take great chances for his life without the aid of a physician, and this circumstance in itself was very suspicious, and, coupled with facts known to our hero, only confirmed the worst suspicious that had arisen in his mind. He followed directions, however, and the wound in a little time was properly attended to, and then seating himself in a chair Alphonse asked with perfect coolness:

"Is it convenient to you for me to remain in this room for a few days?"

"Yes."

"I will tell you frankly," said Alphonse, "I wish to avoid observation; in fact, I wish to conceal myself for a little time, especially until I recover, and if it is convenient for me to remain here this is very fortunate for me."

Oscar studied the young man's face and was forced to admit that he saw no signs of the villain. Indeed it was a singularly refined face, a classic face, more, a princely face.

"You may think it all very strange," said Alphonse.

"Yes, it is to me."

"It is strange to me that you, of all men, should have been the one to save my life. I owe my life to you. Loss of blood was telling on my strength, and those assassins would have finished me if you had not come to my rescue."

"You are right, but you will prosecute those men. You know them evidently."

"No, I do not. I only know they are connected with a gang and they evidently have spotted me, as you detectives say."

Oscar stared in amazement.

"As we detectives say?"

"Yes."

"How do you know I am a detective?"

"I know you are a detective, and I have a still more startling announcement to make. You have saved my life, but I have been lying about expecting at any moment to go to your aid and save yours."

"Save mine?"

"Yes."

"Well, you do amaze me."

"I knew I would, and I will amaze you still more. We are engaged in the same business. We are hunting down the same gang, and I believe we have succeeded."

It is impossible to describe the sensations that ran through our hero's mind as he said:

"You amaze me."

"I will be perfectly frank with you. I know all about you."

"Why did you not seek me?"

"I had made up my mind to do so. I was waiting for you to come from the house you had entered when I was assailed by those two men; and now I will tell you my story, and I trust you will believe every word I say, for I shall tell you nothing but the truth."

"Proceed and tell me your story. I am ready to believe what you tell me, and how is it you know about me?"

"I found out who you were. I saw you first when you were on the track of that Spitzanni."

"Spitzanni?" repeated our hero.

"Yes, the man whom you tracked to the meadows, or rather you were inveigled to meet him. I was at hand to aid if it became necessary, for I also was on that man's track. I will tell you about myself." Alphonse told a story that agreed with all the detective knew of Alphonse, and proceeding said:

"A great robbery occurred in Rome. A large reward was offered for the capture of the robbers and the recovery of particular pieces of jewelry—old family heirlooms. An Italian detective in Paris engaged me to come to the United States; he believed that the robbers had fled to America. He knew I spoke both Italian and English as well as French. He speaks only French and Italian. I came here and I have been on the track of those fellows for months."

"Have you made any discoveries?"

"No discoveries connecting them with the Roman robbery, but I have established the fact that they are desperate characters. This fellow Spitzanni arrived in America just after the Roman robbery. I propose to ally myself with you, if you will permit me, and I know I can be of great service to you."

"You are acquainted with Mrs. Frewen?"

"I am. She was my mother's kindest friend, but she is bitterly prejudiced against me."

"You sent her a letter."

"I did, warning her that a robbery was contemplated. I had no positive knowledge and dared not make a direct statement, but I sent a note calculated to put her on her guard, and wished she would take the necessary precautions. I learned that she did. She called you to her aid and captured the robbers."

"That is all true, and this has been a most remarkable revelation to me, for do you know I was tracking you."

"Believing me to be connected with the gang?"

"Yes."

"Had you any grounds for suspecting me?"

"Only the fact that you were an Italian and appeared to know in advance the intentions of a gang of robbers."

"I obtained my information while trailing an Italian who is an associate of those fellows. I got into his good favor and won his confidence. I rewarded him by a warning at the last moment, and that is the way I obtained my knowledge."

"Do you know the basis of Mrs. Frewen's prejudice against you?"

"I do not. She was once my friend. She has since appeared to be my enemy."

"You were not engaged in any criminal acts?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because Mrs. Frewen really believes you are a criminal."

"She has no basis for her belief. I never did a dishonorable deed in my life. My only crime is being a poor young man."

"Have you any suspicion as to your real parentage?"

"Aha! you have heard about me from Mrs. Frewen."

"I have."

"I have no proofs as concerns the identity of my father. I have many well-grounded reasons for believing I can identify him. I probably will never obtain the proofs, never establish my claim to a noble name."

Oscar held a prolonged conversation with Alphonse Donetti. He was perfectly frank and told him of Alice Frewen's belief in his integrity, and indeed concealed nothing. Our hero was fully convinced of the young man's truthfulness, and from him obtained many facts concerning the gang with whom Argetti was associated.

Later on the two young men parted, Alphonse promising to remain where he was until he received further information from our hero. In a later interview with the chief it was agreed to arrest every one of the Italians supposed to be connected with the gang, and on the following day a number of officers—silent and effective men—went abroad and five men were arrested, who, together with Argetti made six; and our hero had reason to believe that every man was identified with the Roman robbery.

A week passed and one day the chief sent word for Oscar to come to headquarters. Our hero meantime had been in constant communication with Alphonse, the girl Caroline Metti, and also Alice, and a perfectly free interchange of confidences had been made.

As intimated, the chief sent for Oscar, and when the latter arrived he was informed that the representative of the Roman nobleman was in New York, and awaited an interview with our hero at his hotel. Oscar proceeded at once to the hotel, bearing a card from the chief, and met a very pleasant-looking gentleman who spoke English fluently, and we will here state that more English comparatively is spoken in Italy than in France.

"I am very happy to meet you," said the gentleman, after the usual interchange of courtesies, "as I understand you have had special charge of the business of running down the robbers."

"Yes, sir."

"You have certain men under arrest?"

"I have."

"Have you any proofs against them?"

"That remains for you to determine."

"For me to determine?"

"Yes."

"How so?"

"I have in my possession certain articles; if you can identify them as part of the proceeds of the robbery in Rome we have the right men."

"Will you let me see the articles?"

"If you will accompany me I will show them to you."

We will here state that the police had taken possession of Argetti's house. They had stationed a guard over it. Oscar had visited the house many times with Caroline Metti, and after many searches had unearthed a buried casket in the cellar, and in the casket he had found a rich collection of jewels. Indeed, the robbery had been of even greater magnitude than had been reported, and among the articles stolen were jewels that had belonged to the family of the nobleman during the pontificate of Gregory XI. These were articles that had come down in the family for over five centuries and were of great intrinsic as well as historical value.

This casket had been left at the house pending the arrival of the representative from Rome, subject to positive identification.

When the casket was produced and shown to the Italian he uttered a cry of delight and amazement. Indeed he fairly danced around so great was his joy.

"Are we right?" asked Oscar.

"Right, my dear sir, you are the most wonderful man on earth. I always believed Americans were a great people, and you are the greatest American I ever met."

Our hero laughed and said:

"It was a simple matter—a very simple matter."

"Ah, to you, but to me it is a marvelous feat."

"These are the stolen goods?"

"Yes, sir."

"Are the rare souvenirs there?"

The Italian made a careful examination and finally said:

"Yes, everything is here. Of course there are some few articles missing of modern manufacture, but what my master values at millions is here. Oh, how proud, how happy he will be when he learns that I have recovered his treasures, and there is but one bit of news that I could cable to him would cause him greater joy."

Our hero stared.

"Then he has met with other losses?"

"Yes, sir."

"It is possible I can aid you in this other matter."

"No, no, the grave has closed over the one object that would have made my master's heart glad. He is an old man—will soon go to the grave himself—and with him ends the male line of the great and ancient house of Prince ——."

Our hero's heart stood still, and strange, wild thoughts flashed through his mind. He did not speak of certain facts at that moment, nor did he make further inquiries. He had the one business on hand. He said:

"We have the robbers. It will be necessary for you to communicate with the Italian consul-general and proceed in a regular and legal manner to secure the extradition of the criminals."

"Yes, I will proceed at once."

The occurrences of the succeeding two weeks would not interest our readers, as our hero's time and attention were devoted to the furnishing of the evidence that was needed to extradite the robbers. As good luck would have it, at the last moment, as is often the case, one of the men "squeaked," as the vulgar professional saying has it; that is, made a full confession implicating every one of his late pals. Then the road was clear and our hero met the representative by appointment to receive his reward and payment for services. Oscar was not unmindful of the assistance he had received from Caroline Metti and she received a handsome sum as her share, and she did not refuse it, for under the advice of our hero she had determined upon her future course.

Having settled the matter as concerned Caroline Metti our hero said:

"There is one more party who comes in for recognition—a young man."

"Name him," said the representative. "I am prepared to liberally reward every one who aided in the recovery of these precious heirlooms."

"I will not name the party. I will show you his picture, and you can probably identify him yourself."

Our hero had secured the photograph of Alphonse Donetti. He handed it to the representative in a careless manner, saying:

"That is a picture of the young man, and to him we are under great obligations in this matter."

The instant the Italian saw and fixed his eyes on the picture he recoiled like one gazing at a ghost. His eyes fairly bulged. He turned pale, trembled like an aspen leaf, and attempted to speak, but his tongue appeared to cleave to the roof of his mouth. He was unable to speak. Oscar stood by, a look of delight and gratification expressed upon his handsome face.

The detective waited. He desired to give the Italian time to recover his composure, and finally, when the latter was able to speak, he asked in gasping tones:

"Is the original of this picture alive?"

"He is."

"His name?"

"Alphonse Donetti."

"His parentage—do you know his parentage?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Answer my question."

"When you are calmer we will talk."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"I mean that possibly there is something to be explained."

"Is it possible you gave me this picture with a purpose?"

"Yes, I handed you that picture with a purpose."

"And what was your purpose?"

"I desired to learn if you had ever seen him before."

The Italian had fully recovered command of his nerves and he said:

"No, I never saw this picture before."

"Did you ever behold the original?"

"Never."

"Then why your excitement when you beheld the photograph?"

"Was I excited?"

"Sir, you must be perfectly frank with me."

"Will you explain just what you are getting at?"

"Not until you have explained your excitement."

"I have nothing to explain."

"Neither have I."

There followed an interval of awkward silence, broken at length by the Italian who said:

"There is design in all this."

"Yes, there is design."

"You will certainly intimate your design."

"I will intimate nothing."

"What is it you demand?"

"I demand to know the cause of your excitement."

The Italian meditated a moment and then said:

"This picture bears a striking resemblance to one whom I once knew."

"Who is the party?"

"The son of the Prince of ——."

"But you said you had never seen the original."

"I never did behold the original of that picture. The prince's son is dead. He has been dead several years. He was much older than the original of this picture."

Our hero was a quick and rapid thinker and he asked:

"Is it not possible that the original of that picture is the grandson of the present Prince of ——?"

"I cannot tell; the resemblance is certainly very remarkable."

"Tell me about the prince and his son."

"I will."

"Do so."

"The son of the Prince of —— married a French lady. The marriage was a secret one. He deserted his wife and later married an Italian lady of noble birth. The second wife died without leaving any children."

"How could he desert his French wife and marry an Italian woman?"

"He secured a divorce."

"Was he justified?"

"No."

"I am glad you are so frank."

"I have no reason for being otherwise. His French wife was very proud. The prince never knew of his son's marriage to the French lady—it was a secret marriage. After the death of his Italian wife without issue the son revealed to his father, the prince, the fact of his former marriage and the fact of the birth of an heir. The son was killed in a railroad disaster, and then the old prince, being without an heir, sought to find his grandson. He spent large sums of money and succeeded in establishing the fact that his grandson also was dead. He learned that he was a spirited young fellow and had been killed in a duel."

Our hero remembered how Mrs. Frewen had aided in nursing the young man Alphonse Donetti. He guessed the whole mystery and said:

"Young Alphonse Donetti, the original of that picture, was wounded in a duel. He recovered, however, and is alive to-day, a noble young man, one whom his grandfather may proudly welcome as his heir—one well calculated to maintain all the ancient glories of his race."

Our hero proceeded and told the story of Alphonse Donetti. The Italian listened attentively and finally said, when the relation was concluded:

"I believe that indeed this young man is the legitimate heir of the great prince, and his grandfather will be the happiest man in Italy when I again cable him and tell him his heir is found alive, well, and a credit to his race."

"You can cable him, for there is no doubt as to the real identity of the young man."

Oscar and the Italian continued their talk for a long time and then our hero departed, after having arranged for a meeting between Alphonse and the representative of his grandfather.

As Oscar proceeded to the home of Mrs. Frewen he remarked:

"How wonderful are the ways of Providence, and what strange experiences in family histories come to our profession!"

Our hero found Mrs. Frewen at home. To her he made the startling revelation, and added that he had the most positive and indisputable proofs and evidence that Alphonse was well worthy to maintain the credit of his honorable lineage.

Later the detective saw Alice. To her he also made the revelation and assured her that her confidence in the innocence and integrity of the young man had been well sustained and verified, and then he learned that Alice had really met Alphonse and had learned from him his real purpose in visiting America.

Having carried the good news to Alice, our hero proceeded to meet Alphonse. The young prince had recovered from his wound to such a degree that he was able to go out, and our hero said:

"Alphonse Donetti, I have great news for you."

The young Italian stared and our hero proceeded:

"In the most remarkable manner the mystery of your parentage has been solved."

Alphonse did not start or betray any undue emotion or excitement, and Oscar related all that had occurred, and it was then that Alphonse spoke and said:

"The question of my parentage was never a mystery to me, but I believe I inherit the pride of my race. I resolved never to claim relationship to those who had treated my mother in such a cruel manner and who appeared to hate me. I supposed they knew of my whereabouts. I should never have claimed relationship, but—" The young man stopped short for a moment and then, with a glitter in his eyes, added:

"I had all the proofs of my honorable title as the legitimate heir to the name and fortune of my cruel parent, and I did intend when they were dead in memory of my mother to establish my right to the fortune and title."

"Your grandfather is innocent in this matter. You knew that your father was dead?"

"I did not know it until you told me. I never saw my father to know him. If my grandfather seeks me I will go to him and reverence him as I trust he desires."

Later Alphonse was introduced to his grandfather's representative and easily furnished all the proofs as to his identity.

A month passed and a letter arrived from the prince. He expressed his delight, sent a large check and requested his grandson to return immediately to his ancestral home.

Alphonse did not go at once, and when he did sail for Italy there went with him his wife, the princess, who as Alice Frewen had been so faithful and true to him.

Mrs. Frewen returned with her niece to Italy. Our hero saw them off, and that same day Oscar returned and met the beautiful Caroline Metti, and in a laughing tone said:

"Now, Caroline, if I could only gather the links to prove you a princess I should be a proud and happy man."

"Those links you will never gather, but I am grateful to you, for you have restored to me an interest in life and awakened an ambition."

"And what is your ambition?"

"I hardly dare tell you."

"Yes, tell me."

"You will be jealous."

"No, I will not;" but there did come a color to our hero's handsome face.

"You are sure you will not be jealous?"

"I am sure."

"It is my ambition to become a great female detective."

"Great Scott!" ejaculated our hero, "is that all?"

"That is all. Will you aid me?"

"I will, and there is no reason why you should not become the greatest lady detective that ever lived."

"I will try."

"And I will help you."

THE END.