ink of scattering
coin, and the next instant a wild, rage-distorted face shot into view.

"My God!" cried Robert.

It was the Sepoy!

"Hands up!" commanded a voice which the young man recognized as that of
Gratz; "hands up, or you are a dead man. There are five bullets in
reserve for you if you budge from where you stand."

With an imprecation that was charged with malignant venom, the Sepoy
looked upon the gleaming barrel of a pistol which was advancing into the
light, recognized his helplessness, and with snarling obedience elevated
his arms in the air.

"Robert!" called Gratz.

The young man, trembling, hurried to the opening.

"Get behind me," directed Gratz; "put your hand in my coat pocket;
you'll find a pair of bracelets there for our friend here."

With shaking hands Robert followed these sharply delivered instructions,
and withdrew a set of handcuffs, gaping at the fastenings to receive a
pair of guilty wrists.

"Now move around to the rear of this gentleman," continued the
relentless Gratz, "and snap them on his wrists."

Somehow Robert managed to obey these commands.

He reached to the uplifted hands of the Sepoy, embraced his wrists with
the handcuffs, and closed them with a snap.

(To be continued on Bosom No. 2, Series C.)

Unknown to himself, Dennis, stimulated by the lively succession of
incidents, had spurred his enunciation in a racy adjustment to these
animated conditions.

His eyes appeared to have appropriated the sparkle which had intensified
the glance of the Sepoy of whom he had just read, and when he arrived
at the familiar legend at the bottom of the bosom, his expression, vivid
with all these communicated emotions, was duplicated in the sweet,
absorbed face of his bewitching listener, who, in order the better to
follow his rapid utterance, leaned, with the exquisite intoxication of
her presence, in rapt nearness to the reader.

Consequently, when Dennis looked up from his reading, he was transported
along the highway of a sympathetic glance into deeps of dazzling blue.

For a moment he abandoned himself to the enchanting witchery with the
dreamful enjoyment of the voluptuary inhaling the odors of a scented
bath.

He seemed to be on the best of terms with some well-disposed harlequin.

Scarcely had the excitement of one series of events developed to its
climax when he was whisked to another.

His providence was working overtime in his behalf, and being at heart
sound an