s, followed by the two patrolmen, while the lawyer sank
weakly into a chair and buried his face in his hands. He guessed only
too well what had happened.

The policemen were slower than the panic-stricken Trubus.

They found him in his magnificent boudoir, kneeling and sobbing by the
side of his dead wife; a revolver had fallen to the floor from her limp
hand. It was still smoking. The exquisite lace coverlet was even now
drinking up the red stains, and the bluecoats stopped at the doorway,
dropping their heads as they instinctively doffed their caps.

Gruff Roundsman Murphy crossed himself, while White wiped his eyes with
the back of his hand. He remembered a verse from the old days when he
went to Sunday-school in the Jersey town where he was born.

"'Vengeance is mine,' saith the Lord."

* * * * *

The blossoms of late May were tinting the greensward beneath the trees
of Central Park as Bobbie Burke and Mary strolled along one of the
winding paths. They had just walked up the Avenue from their last
shopping expedition.

"I hated to bid the boys at the station house good-bye this afternoon,
Mary. Yet after to-night we'll be away from New York for a wonderful
month in the country. And then no more police duty, is there?"

"No, Bob. You and father will be the busiest partners in New York and
you will have to report for duty at our new little apartment every
evening before six. I'm so glad that you can leave all those dangers,
and gladder still because of my own selfish gratifications. After
to-night."

"Well, I'm scared of to-night more than I was of that police parade on
May Day, with all that fuss about the medal. Here I've got to face a
minister, and you know that's not as easy as it seems."

They reached the new home which the advance royalties for old Barton's
days of realization had made possible. It was a handsome apartment on
Central Park West, and the weeks of preparation had turned it into a
wonderful bower for this night of nights.

"Look, Mary," cried Lorna, as they came in. "Here are two more
presents. One must weigh a ton and the other is in this funny old
bandbox."

They opened the big bundle first; it was a silver service of elaborate,
ornate design. It had cost hundreds of dollars.

On a long paper Bobbie saw the names of a hundred men, all familiar and
memory-stirring. The list was headed with the simple dedication in the
full, round hand which