ation had
been overheard by their silent neighbor, notwithstanding the
voluminous documents which seemed to engross his attention.

Passing out into the night, he found the storm fast abating.
Stopping at a news-stand, he inquired for a directory, which he
carefully studied for a few moments, then walked down the principal
thoroughfare until, coming to a side street, he turned and for a
number of blocks passed up one street and down another, plunging at
last into a dark alley.

Upon emerging therefrom a block away, the soft felt hat had given
place to a jaunty cap, while a pair of gold-rimmed eye-glasses
perched upon the aquiline nose gave the wearer a decidedly youthful
and debonnaire appearance. Approaching a secluded house in a dimly
lighted location, he glanced sharply at the number, as though to
reassure himself, then running swiftly up the front steps, he
pulled the door-bell vigorously and awaited developments. After
considerable delay the door was unlocked and partially opened by a
hatchet-faced woman, who peered cautiously out, her features lighted
by the uncertain rays of a candle which the draught momentarily
threatened to extinguish.

"Good-evening, madam," said the stranger, airily. "Pardon such an
unseasonable call, but I wish to see Mr. Lovering, who, I understand,
has rooms here."

"There's no such person rooming here," she replied, sharply, her
manner indicating that this bit of information ended the interview,
but her interlocutor was not to be so easily dismissed.

"No such person!" he exclaimed, at the same time scrutinizing in
apparent perplexity a small card which he had produced. "J. D.
Lovering, 545 Jefferson Street; isn't this 545, madam?"

"Yes," she answered, testily, "this is 545; but there's nobody here
by the name of Lovering."

The young man turned as if to go. "Have you any roomers at present?"
he inquired, doubtfully.

"I have one, but his name is Mannering."

"Mannering," he repeated, thoughtfully, once more facing her; "I
wonder if I am not mistaken in the name? Will you kindly describe
Mr. Mannering?"

The woman hesitated, eying him suspiciously. "He ain't likely to
be the man you want," she said, slowly, "for he don't have no
callers, and he never goes anywhere, except out of the city once in
a while on business. He's an oldish man, with dark hair and beard
streaked with gray, and he wears dark glasses."

"Ah, no," the young man interrupted hastily, "that is n