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210 taken in on the case,—and I'm on the job with him from now—"

"And say," broke in Stuyvie, irrelevantly, "before you leave find out who that girl is over there with the fat Irishman. Understand?"

Prince Waldemar de Bosky's thoughts and reflections, up to the beginning of this duologue, were of the rosiest and most cheerful nature. He was not proud to be playing the violin in Spangler's, but he was human. He was not above being gratified by the applause and enthusiasm of the people who came to see if not to hear a prince of the blood perform.

His friends were out there in front, and it was to them that he played. He was very happy. And the five thousand dollars in the old steel safe at the shop of Mirabeau the clockmaker! He had been thinking of them and of the letter he had posted to the man "up the river,"—and of the interest he would take in the reply when it came. Abruptly, in the midst of these agreeable thoughts, came the unlovely interruption.

At first he was bewildered, uncertain as to the course he should pursue. He never had seen young Smith-Parvis before, but he had no difficulty in identifying him as the disturber of Trotter's peace of mind. That there was something dark and sinister behind the plans and motives of the young man and his spy was not a matter for doubt. How was he to warn Lady Jane? He was in a fearful state of perturbation as he stepped to the front of the platform for the next number on the program.

As he played, he saw Smith-Parvis rejoin his party. He watched the sallow man weave his way among the