"'The World's Famous Fat Men,' twenty volumes; cloth, levant, or half-calf; ten dollars down, and a dollar a month far into the hazy future. Of course this was hardly the place to talk business, she said, but I had her card and knew where to find her. Every one should have the work. All the best people in New York, Philadelphia, Sioux City, and other places were putting it into their libraries, and so on, and so on.

"This flotsam and jetsam of her talk came to me from time to time as confidential asides from the main flow of palaver which rolled along steadily toward the Judge. The Judge, poor fellow, showed plainly the effects of the struggle; so much so, that I suggested a stroll up the Boardwalk.

"We arose with an effort, and went out to meet the bracing air.

"'Ah, the thea, the thea; the dear, dear thea! Always tho—er—wet and rethleth. I inherit a love for the water from my father's great uncle who was an Admiral in the British Navy.' As this was the first intimation Miss de Dear had given as to a fondness for water, except on the side, I felt that living and learning were synonymous terms. So, perhaps, did the Judge, who said, apropos of nothing in particular, 'When I was in California in fifty-nine, I saw a snake over forty-seven feet long. The onery rascal wouldn't coil up, and they had to carry him from place to place on flat cars. Now what do you think of that?' Miss de Dear gazed dreamily out at the tossing waves, and said nothing, while I caught hold of the Judge's elbow to steady him. Plainly the celebration was on.

"'My dear, dear Patsy,' he said affectionately.

"'Oh, I tell you what let'h do,' said the maiden impulsively; 'let'h go and have our fortunes told. I am dying to have mine told. Last night I dreamt for the third time that Aunt Genevieve had died and left me all her money. Maybe there is something in it. The palm of my left hand has been itching all day.'

"So to the fortune-teller's we went.



"Professor Habib was a Parsee, with features Irish in their intensity. As I gazed at him I thought of the far-reaching kinship of man. Here was a Fire-worshipper out of Persia, who for all the world looked like my brother Mick; and God knows Mick's no Parsee! Habib wore his native costume with a little red fez on top.

"'Be seated,' he said courteously; again reminding me of Mick.

"'Which one first?' he asked, pointing to a little inner room curtained from view. The Judge suggested genially that we all go in together, but the professor explained that one at a time was his invariable rule.

"'Oh, all right, all right,' said the judge, somewhat miffed; 'far be it from me to—to——'

"'Ladies first,' said I.

"''Tis well,' said the professor, with a salaam; and the pair disappeared behind the draperies.

"'I wonder how long they are going to stay,' said the Judge, after we had waited some fifteen minutes. The conversation behind the arras, at first low and murmuring, was becoming animated. I distinctly heard the Parsee say, 'Who are the blaggards ye've brought here wid ye?' followed by an unintelligible reply.

"'What did he say?' queried the Judge, looking up sharply.

"'I don't understand Parsee, sir,' said I.

"'That was no foreign tongue; that was American—with a brogue. I don't like that. Let's hurry them up. I say, what time is it?'

"We reached for our watches. They were gone! Instinctively I felt for my wallet. Gone! My scarf-pin. Gone!

"We made a wild rush for the little inner room.

"Miss de Dear? Gone! And the Parsee? Gone!

* * * * *

"Later, when we had made our report to the police, and I was guiding the Judge home, I asked:

"Who is this de Dear? Where did you know her?"

"'Never laid eyes on her before!' growled the Judge."

* * * * *

"Another 'Jewel'!" said Colonel Manysnifters. "You find them everywhere."



XIII

AN UNINVITED GUEST

In the lull following Mr. O'Brien's story the conductor and porter went hurriedly through the car out to the rear platform; where, it seems, they had been summoned by the brakeman. They quickly reappeared with as bedraggled and woebegone a specimen of humanity as it has ever been my misfortune to see. An unwashed, evil-smelling, half-frozen Hobo was dragged into the car, to our utter amazement!

"Hold on a minute, conductor," said Colonel Manysnifters, as they were rushing the captive through. "What have you here? Where did you get him? Who are you, sir?" asked he of the tramp. "Who are you, I say, and what are you doing on this strictly private outfit?"



The tramp, quite unabashed, blew upon his fingers to warm them, picked up a cigar stump from the floor, lighted it, and looking around the group said courteously, though with a bored expression:

"Gentlemen, I got on your train about the time you did, though hardly in the same way. A ride on the trucks and brakebeams, while exhilarating in the extreme at the outset, soon becomes wearying and nerve-racking, so at the last water tank I made bold to take up my quarters on the rear platform, with an occasional climb to the roof for observation and change. But, my, it is cold out there! If it hadn't been for my friend here," exhibiting a flask, "I would have frozen to death. Alas, poor fellow, he is empty now!" and he held it up to the light.

"It grew very dark and bitter as the night wore on; then the blizzard caught us; but even in spite of that, I fell into a doze, to be rudely awakened by this fellow—but what can you expect from a person of that kind?" Here the brakeman gave a scornful grunt, and the conductor smiled broadly.

"After all," the tramp continued affably, between cigar puffs, "their lot is a hard one, and it is not for me to cast the first stone. So here I am, gentlemen, right with you, and my fate is quite in your hands." This with a magnificent wave of a grimy paw, and something approaching a curtsy.

"You should get down on your knees, fellow, and thank this brakeman. He undoubtedly saved your life. It would have been your last sleep if he had not come along! Where is your gratitude?" asked Senator Pennypacker severely.

"You may be right, sir," said the tramp politely. "I don't dispute your word. I ought to be friendly with that fellow, as I see he is a brother of mine. He belongs to my order. I can tell by his watch-charm—that square bit of enamel with the rising sun in the middle, and the letters 'I. O. U.' in red, white, and blue, around it. Yes, he is O. K. I have been a member of many fraternities, and in better days I was the keeper of the 'Hoot Mon' in our local Caledonian club. Brother, accept my thanks. Perhaps some of these days I may be able to repay you with something more substantial." The brakeman laughed, and by this time we were all in a melting mood. Senator Bull reached instinctively into his trousers pocket, and Mr. Ridley did the same.

"Just a moment, gentlemen, just a moment," said Colonel Manysnifters. "Now, sir," said he to the tramp, "we have been telling stories here to-night—some of them fair, some pretty bad. Let us hear what you can do in that line. We will give you a chance. If you don't make good we will put you off at the next station and turn you over to the authorities. Captain," to the conductor, "and you, President Madison, take our friend into the next car, give him something to eat and drink, wash him up a bit—several bits—and let him come back here and do his best."

"Sir, I thank you," said the tramp with dignity. "Your idea is a great and noble one. My stomach is so empty that it hangs about me in folds. You have all doubtless seen a balloon awaiting the kindly offices of the gas-man—that's me. But it will soon be remedied. Adieu for the present." He left us, with the conductor in the lead and the grinning darky at his heels.

"The nerve of those hoboes is something astonishing," said Colonel Manysnifters, walking up and down, and filling the car with smoke in order to cover up all traces of our visitor. I'll bet a thousand dollars that that fellow had as good a chance at the start as any of us,—just threw himself away,—whiskey, I suppose, or women, or the platers—the combination more likely. Did you ever see such eyes?—like two burnt holes in a blanket!"

"Yet he has the manners of a gentleman, and seems to have had some education," said Van Rensselaer. "Did you notice his small hands and rather classic profile? Bathed, shaven, manicured, and properly clothed, he would be much like the rest of us—externally so, at least."

"May have been born a gentleman," observed the Colonel, "but he seems to have outgrown it. A college man, too, no doubt; but what does that signify? I have a friend who spent about six thousand simoleons on his son's education, and at the end of three years all the boy had learned was to wear baggy pants, sport a cane, and yell 'Raw! Raw! Raw!'—very appropriately—upon the slightest provocation. The kind of chap you will find dashing through the streets in a forty horse-power automobile with a hundred fool-power chauffeur in charge. As to the modern young woman, all the education she wants is to be able to write love-letters!

"But our visitor is certainly an individual of strong personality!" grunted Colonel Manysnifters, continuing to blow smoke into all parts of the car. "Whew! Open the window back of you, Ridley. It is hard to realize that he has left us! He was certainly not 'born to blush unseen, nor waste his sweetness on the desert air,' eh?"

"The tramp problem is becoming a serious one," said Senator Pennypacker ponderously. "The great army of the unemployed is steadily increasing. In New York City alone, on October the first of last year, there were no less than—just a second. I have the data in my bag. I will read you some figures that will astonish you."

The Senator arose to get his bag. Faint groans were heard as he left us. Senators Bull, Wendell, Baker, several Representatives, and the gentlemen of the press arose as one man and rushed to the button. President Madison appeared and took the orders. Then Pennypacker returned with a look of determination on his face, and for fifteen minutes or more we were regaled with facts, figures, and statistics, all tending to prove that crime and wretchedness were on the increase throughout the country; that we were a degenerate people; and other equally cheerful information.

The hobo's return was hailed with joy. He was vastly improved in appearance, and fairly radiated contentment. He sank into the seat that Colonel Manysnifters had thoughtfully placed for him,—somewhat apart from the rest,—with a murmur of satisfaction not unlike the loud purring of a cat. Senator Bull pushed the cigars in his direction, and Van Rensselaer was equally assiduous with the whiskey and soda. Our visitor seemed perfectly at home. He drank,—drank deeply,—and wiping his mouth on his sleeve, drank again.

"The hair of the goat is certainly good for the butt," said he, smiling, and displaying a set of marvellously white and regular teeth. "Now, gentlemen, I am quite ready to fulfil my part of the agreement. If my little story interests you, you are welcome to it. It was this way.

"I was a doctor by profession, carpenter by trade, stevedore by occupation; then came harder times—booze—more booze—despair, illness, and I found myself discharged from the hospital, down and out—a hobo! Yet tramp life is not so bad after all. I like it. I like the open-air existence, the freedom from care and responsibility, and—the hours. I am much alone, and genius, you know, grows corpulent in solitude.

"My name is Tippett—Livingstone Tippett. Age, of no special moment. You know," he said pleasantly, "there are two things all of us lie about—our ages and our incomes. As this is a true story I will drop the age question. It is better so.

"My early life was uneventful. I was brought up by a pious mother in a quiet, deeply religious home; every influence uplifting and good-instilling. I was taught, among other things, to regard liquor in any form with abhorrence, and that drunkenness was the sin of sins. I was surrounded with every safeguard a loving mother could devise, and it was not until after her death and my wife's that I took to drink. My father and grandfather both died drunkards. Heredity, in my case, overcame both training and environment, and my troubles hurried on the inevitable.

"I passed through college unscathed, studied medicine, walked the hospitals, and began the practice of my profession under the most favorable auspices. I fell in love with a charming girl, and blessed with my good mother's approval we were married. Our future seemed singularly bright and untroubled. Life is a game and I was considerably ahead of the game. I was certainly playing on velvet.

"When my Elizabeth and I announced that instead of going abroad we would spend our honeymoon at 'Raven Hill' our little world thought it quite absurd. They were charitably inclined, however, and made excuses for us upon the ground that we were too much absorbed in each other to know what we were doing. But we did know, nevertheless. Our plans had been fully matured long before we saw fit to reveal them. To spend a month or so at Neville Mason's, down in Virginia, appealed very pleasantly to both of us, and I accepted my old chum's offer with avidity. We were to have everything to ourselves, with just as many servants as we wanted.

"We were married. There was a wedding breakfast, flowers, weeping relatives, old shoes, and a profusion of rice; nothing, in short, was omitted. A few hours later we left Jersey City on the southbound flyer. Breaking the journey at Washington, and remaining over night there, we arrived at the tiny depot near our ultimate destination late on the evening of the following day. An ancient but still serviceable family carriage was in waiting, and we were conveyed in state to the mansion.

"The house at Raven Hill is a huge affair of the Revolutionary period, with numerous modern additions, which fail entirely to harmonize with the quaint architecture of the original. The stables and servants' quarters give the place the appearance of quite a settlement—a survival of slavery days one sees here and there in the South.

"We were shown to a suite of sunny rooms in the east wing which had been especially prepared for us, and soon made ourselves thoroughly at home. From this agreeable vantage-ground we set out upon many pleasant expeditions into the countryside, returned the visits of our neighbors, and attended the chapel at the Crossways in truly rural style. Nothing amused us as much, though, as the negro servants. To them Elizabeth was 'Honey,' and I, 'Marse Livingstone'; and over at the quarters the little darkies gave rare exhibitions of dancing for our benefit, while solemn, gray-haired Uncle Ashby picked a greasy banjo. The men sang in nasal, but not unmelodious tones, weird, crooning songs, with occasionally an up-to-date composition which found its way, no doubt, from nearby Richmond. I shall never forget those happy evenings at Raven Hill; and in my dreams I often see and hear the negroes as they danced and sang in the moonlight.

"There were some good horses in the stables, and we did not spare them. Our cross-country dashes were most exciting, and the total absence of fences in the region gave us an apparently limitless expanse over which to wander. And that reminds me of a never-to-be-forgotten fox hunt which was attended by riders from all over that section of the country. Half a dozen foxes were corralled at the 'round-up,' and I could not help thinking how tame our alleged 'chases' at home appeared by the contrast.

"One day while roaming about the lower portion of the Raven Hill estate we stumbled quite by accident into Dark Forest, vaguely hinted at by the negroes as a place to be avoided. This Dark Forest is a large tract of scrub oak, birch and holly, with dense undergrowths of briar; the haunt of innumerable small birds that dart in and out, chirping faintly. In its depressed portions the 'forest' has degenerated into a marsh through which a sluggish stream wends it way to the distant river. Slimy reptiles bask in the warm sun and glide lazily over the black, oozy soil. At intervals the stillness is broken by the splash of a gigantic bullfrog returning to his favorite pool. This acrobatic feat is usually accompanied by a deep-throated cry of satisfaction, not unlike the twanging of an ill-tuned guitar. On the edges of the marsh mud-covered terrapins drag themselves through the weeds and disappear with surprising swiftness when they see an intruder.

"Through this singular region, and overgrown with rank, sedgy grass, is a wagon trail, here and there along its winding course several inches under water; and into this wretched road we turned our horses. After a half a mile or so we left the marsh and struck into firmer ground. Then came a sharp bend in the undergrowth, and a clearing, several acres in extent, burst into view. Here stood a white-washed cabin in the midst of a little garden enclosed by a paling fence, and tall sunflowers, swaying to and fro in the breeze, brushed the low-hanging eaves. Flowers grew everywhere in profusion, and the rude porch at the front of the dwelling was half buried in a mass of fragrant honey-suckle. White curtains, gracefully looped, hung at the windows, and there was a charming air of femininity and comfort about the place. We dismounted, and tied our horses at the gate. As we approached the cabin an immense cat dozing on the stoop sprang up hurriedly and darted into the vines. We knocked repeatedly at the door without response. Finally, some one was heard approaching, so we walked to the lean-to at the rear, and there saw, coming up from the spring at the foot of the enclosure, a young and astonishingly pretty girl. She was not at all startled by seeing us; in fact, led us to believe from her manner that we were rather expected than otherwise.

"'Walk right in,' said the little beauty. 'I reckon you folks must be pretty well beat out after your long ride in the hot sun. It's a goodish bit from here to the Hill, ain't it?'

"'How do you know that we are from the Hill?' I asked in surprise.

"'Oh, I know,' she replied. 'I saw ye both at the station when ye first come, and then again at meetin' on Sunday. And you air a bride?' she added, turning to my wife.

"'Yes, and a very happy one,' said Elizabeth, placing her hand upon my shoulder in loving fashion. The child, for she was hardly more than that, gave an odd little sigh, but quickly brightened up again.

"'I'm downright glad ye came,' she said heartily. 'I do so like folks to be neighborly and sociable. Ye ain't stuck up, nuther, like most city folks; no airs, nor the like o' that. Pap'll be home soon, and he'll be glad to see ye too!'

"Then she prepared a nice luncheon in the living-room. The lightest bread, delicious butter, preserved peaches, and some slices of marvellous old ham; this, with a stone pitcher of cool, foamy milk, made life very pleasant to the weary travelers. The girl declined to join us, but sat near at hand, gazing intently at my wife. No detail of Elizabeth's attire seemed to escape her.

"'Oh,' said she, partly to herself, 'what beautiful, beautiful clothes!' And I registered a vow that she should have just such an outfit as soon as we went back to New York.

"'That child, properly dressed, would attract attention anywhere; she does not look at all bourgeois,' said my wife; and this from Elizabeth, whose grandmother was a Boston Higglesworth, was a concession indeed.

"'Do not tell her so,' said I; 'it would certainly spoil her. She is uncommonly pretty, I'll admit; but unless something unforeseen happens she will probably marry within her own sphere of life, toil unceasingly, rear a brood of uncouth bumpkins—a hag at thirty, and thus fulfil her destiny.'

"Elizabeth looked exceeding wise, but said nothing.

"Ailsee came to us at that moment, and I looked at her closely as she stood in the sunlight, her bonnet dangling from her arm. She was undeniably beautiful—a dainty little head, crowned with a wealth of golden-brown hair, sweet hazel eyes, a lovely mouth, and the most bewitching dimples. There was nothing of the milkmaid style about her, for she lacked the vivid coloring and tendency to embonpoint of the typical rustic beauty. I pictured her to myself entering the room at one of the Bachelors' on the arm of the leader of the cotillion, and the subsequent sensation and heart-burnings.

"My reverie was interrupted by a hoarse voice calling, 'Ailsee! Ailsee!'—seemingly just over in the forest.

"'Dad wants me,' she said with a smile. 'I'll go and fetch him back with me. Please you folks wait a moment.' And she tripped lightly down the garden and out into the wilderness beyond.

"Ten or fifteen minutes slipped by without the return of either Ailsee or her father. The footfalls in the forest died away, and the stillness was becoming oppressive.

"'Remarkable, truly,' said my wife, with a puzzled expression. 'Where could she have gone? Do you think her father is keeping her? Dearest,' she added gravely, 'don't laugh, I feel—I feel—that something dreadful is going to happen. I don't know exactly what, but——'

"'Of course you don't know exactly what,' I interrupted. 'Come now, be a sensible little woman. You surely don't believe in presentiments. It is the heat; this sticky, Southern heat! I feel a little queer myself.'

"But nothing I could say quite banished the singular fancy which had taken possession of my young wife. Womenkind cling tenaciously to absurd ideas, especially when they are of the worrying kind; and Elizabeth looked so troubled and sad that I soon caught the feeling and became melancholy too.

"It was long past noon and intensely sultry, and we were sitting on the porch where occasionally the faintest shadow of a breeze made life more endurable. Our horses, maddened by the flies and heat, chafed and stamped restlessly out at the gate. Elizabeth tried to amuse herself with a huge album of daguerreotypes which occupied the place of honor in the cabin parlor, and I smoked and lounged about, wondering what had become of Ailsee.

"'Well,' said I at last, 'we can not wait here forever. If I am not greatly mistaken there will be a storm before night, and we had better get out of this at once. We can come down here some other day and renew our acquaintance with the mysterious child of the forest.' So back through the marsh we splashed our way, and arrived at Raven Hill barely in time to escape the storm, which broke with fury just as Uncle Ashby came around for our mud-bespattered steeds.

"Elizabeth went upstairs to change her dress and rest before dinner, and I settled down in the library with the Country Gentleman. There was a knock at the door, and Uncle Ashby came in.

"'Marse Livingstone,' he asked huskily, 'whar has you been wif de horses?'

"I told him; and during the brief account of our adventures his face grew ashen and his eyes seemed about to start out of his head. When I was through he tottered over to the window, muttering, 'Gawd help us! Gawd help us!'

"'What's the matter, Uncle Ashby?' I asked curiously. 'What on earth are you so excited about?'

"'Boss,' said he entreatingly, 'doan' make me tell you—you'll be sorry ef you do. 'Deed, Marster, I really mus' go now, sah; dey's waitin' fer me at de stables. And youse been down dar an' seen it! Oh, Lordy, Lordy!'

"'Come back here,' said I, my curiosity getting the better of me. 'Don't be a fool, old man; brace up. What's the trouble? You are not afraid to speak out, eh?'

"'Well, Marse Livingstone, ef I mus' tell you, I 'spose I mus'—thar doan' 'pear to be no help fer it. But I'd ruther not, boss; 'deed, I'd ruther not.'

"'Go on; tell your story,' said I impatiently. 'I guess I can stand it. Just try me, anyhow.' So in the semi-darkness a marvellous tale was unfolded to my ears.

"In the first place, Uncle Ashby solemnly assured me that I had that day seen a ghost. The flesh-and-blood Ailsee, he declared, had been dead many years. Her father, Coot Harris, was a rough customer who took up his abode in the marsh—'mash,' Uncle Tucker called it—at the close of the Civil War. Here he gained a precarious livelihood by 'pot-hunting'; for Harris and others of his ilk paid but little attention to the poorly enforced game laws of the section. Coot Harris, the marshman, had a daughter, who, as Uncle Ashby contemptuously remarked, 'was peart enuff, as pore white trash folkses go.'

"This daughter was named Ailsee. Thwarted by her father in some love affair with a swain of the neighborhood, she had drowned herself in a gloomy pool in the very darkest part of the forest. The body was found shortly afterward and buried in the cottage garden. Harris then left the country and has never since been heard of. All this, according to Uncle Ashby, happened twenty years ago. The ghost of the ill-starred Ailsee had occasionally been seen by the country folk, but always with dire results. Bad luck, disease, and in some cases death, had been the fate of those who saw the 'ha'nt.' One man lost his house by fire within forty-eight hours after the shadowy form crossed his path. The body of another unfortunate was found floating in the creek; his eyes wide open, staring horribly. The drowned man had but the day before made known the fact that he had seen the wraith of the marshman's daughter. Still another poor fellow had been taken, raving and violent, to the asylum. Numerous additional instances, equally as harrowing, were cited by Uncle Ashby, whose fervent belief in all that he said was rather impressive than otherwise.

"I listened patiently to the old man until he finished. By that time the storm had ceased and the sky, suddenly clearing in the west, revealed the last rays of the setting sun, which brightened the room for a few moments. I laughed softly when Uncle Ashby went out, and all that I had heard of the ignorance, credulity, and superstition of the Southern negro came into my mind. I sat for a while, musing in the gathering dusk, and then went up to my room.

"The lamps had not been lighted in that portion of the house, and it was quite dark. The atmosphere was stifling, as all the windows had been closed at the approach of the storm. I raised them, and the cool, damp air, heavy with the odor of jessamine, floated into the room. Elizabeth, evidently greatly fatigued by the day's exertions, had thrown herself upon a lounge at the foot of the bed. She was in her dressing-gown, and her face was framed in masses of wavy brown hair which had become uncoiled in her restless movements. I hesitated to awaken her, but as sounds from below indicated the near approach of dinner I called her—at first softly, and then in louder tones, an indefinable fear stealing over me as I did so. I approached the couch, and tremblingly placed my hand upon her forehead.... Ah, God, I cannot tell the rest!

"Seven years have dragged their weary length along since I lost my dear young wife and the light of my life was extinguished forever! Now, all is darkness! darkness!

"Subsequent investigation, supported by the testimony of well-known and thoroughly reliable residents of the country, confirmed in every particular the truth of Uncle Ashby's story. A visit to the marshman's cottage some days after my wife's death revealed a ruinous mouldering habitation, in the midst of a wilderness of weeds and vines. A mournful, desolate spot, shunned and avoided by all for the past twenty years, and yet had I not seen——" Tippett paused abruptly, with bowed head and eyes tear-dimmed.

"Here, old chap, take this," said Colonel Manysnifters, hastily pouring out and handing him a stiff drink. Tippett, obeying, was somewhat revived, and continued.

"I returned to Brooklyn with the body of my wife. My mother followed her to the grave a few months later. All in the world that was dear to me was now lost. I took to drink; I sunk lower and lower, dissipated my little fortune, friends forsook me; and by quick stages in the descending scale I found myself, as I said before—an outcast! Yet, through all my troubles I have never entertained the thought of self-destruction. I have no desire whatever to seek—

"'The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn No traveler returns,—puzzles the will, And makes us rather bear those ills we have Than to fly to others we know not of.'"

It was long after midnight when Tippett concluded his story and the gathering broke up; not, however, before sleeping-quarters had been found for the unfortunate man, and a promise given by Senator Bull to put him on his feet again in the far West—an offer gladly accepted in all sincerity, and a venture which proved highly successful, as most of the long-headed Senator's usually did.

Morning brought relief, the track was cleared, and our train proceeded on its way, arriving at Washington many hours behind schedule; its occupants but little the worse for their experience—Colonel Manysnifters, I believe, with a slight headache.

THE END