nvinced himself of the efficacy
of his own precautions, that he anticipated the same pleasure in
reading the comments upon his exploit that an author whose incognito
is assured enjoys in reading the criticisms of his anonymous work.
He was at first disappointed in seeing no allusion to the affair in
the usual local columns; but at last discovered in a corner of the
paper this double-leaded postscript:

"We stop the press to state that an appalling crime was last night
committed in Algonquin Avenue. The mansion of Arthur Farnham, Esq., was
entered by burglars between ten and eleven o'clock, and that gentleman
assaulted and probably murdered.

"Full particulars in a later edition."

"LATER. Captain Farnham is still living, and some hopes are entertained
of his recovery. The police have found the weapon with which the almost
fatal blow was struck--a carpenter's hammer marked with a letter S. It
is thought this clew will lead to the detection of the guilty parties."

Offitt was not entirely pleased with the tone of this notice. He had
expected some reference to the address and daring of the burglar. But
he smiled to himself, "Why should I care for Sam's reputation?" and ate
his breakfast with a good appetite. Before he had finished, however, he
greatly modified his plan, which was to have the threads of evidence
lead naturally, of themselves, to the conviction of Sleeny. He
determined to frighten Sam, if possible, out of the city, knowing that
his flight would be conclusive evidence of guilt. He swallowed his
coffee hurriedly and walked down to Dean Street, where by good fortune
he found Sam alone in the shop. He was kicking about a pile of shavings
on the floor. He turned as Offitt entered and said: "Oh, there you are.
I can't find that hammer anywhere."

Offitt's face assumed a grieved expression. "Come, come, Sam, don't
stand me off that way. I'm your friend, if you've got one in the world.
You mustn't lose a minute more. You've got time now to catch the 8.40.
Come, jump in a hack and be off."

His earnestness and rapidity confused Sleeny, and drove all thoughts of
the hammer from his mind. He stared at Offitt blankly, and said, "Why,
what are you givin' me now?"

"I'm a-givin' you truth and friendship, and fewest words is best. Come,
light out, and write where you stop. I'll see you through."

"See here," roared Sam, "are you crazy or am I? Speak out! What's up?"

"Oh! I've got to speak it out, raw and plain,