gone, he made a wax image of her, and taking up a knife chopped its
head off. In the evening, he learned that a lady answering to her
description had been run over by a train at Chislehurst--and
decapitated.

Kelson grew heartily sick of the Suffragettes. They were not only
plain but abusive, and he complained bitterly to Hamar.

"Look here," he said, "it's not fair. You and Curtis see all the
decent-looking women and shelve all the rest on me. I'll stand it no
longer." And he spoke so determinedly, that Hamar thought it politic
to humour him.

"Very well, Matt," he said, forcing a laugh. "I'll try and arrange
differently in future. After to-day you shall have your share of the
pretty ones--anything to keep the peace. Only--remember--no falling in
love."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 22: Lest the reader should query this, let him consult the
police in any of our big centres, and he will learn that crime and
prostitution is immensely on the increase among children. In
Newcastle it is estimated that there are over two thousand girls, of
under fourteen years of age, voluntarily leading immoral lives, and
making big incomes.]

CHAPTER XXII

THE PERSECUTION OF THE MARTINS

Hamar's one great idea on reaching stage four was to utilize the
torments as a means of getting Gladys. Though he saw crowds of pretty
girls every day, none appealed to him as she did--and the very
difficulty of getting her enhanced her value and stimulated his
passions.

"I will give her one more chance," he said to himself, "and then if
she won't have me I'll plague her to death."

He went to the Imperial, and passing himself off as her father to the
new official at the stage-door entrance, was shown into the ante-room
(which led to her dressing-room). It took a good deal to scare Hamar,
but he admitted afterwards that he did feel a trifle apprehensive
whilst he awaited her advent; and his anticipations were fully
realized.

"Why, father!" she began, as the door of her dressing-room swung open
and she appeared on the threshold, clad in a shimmering white dress,
that intensified her fair style of beauty, "what brings you--" The
smile on her face suddenly died away.

"You!" she cried, "how dare you! Go! Go at once! And if you dare come
here again or attempt to molest me in any way, I'll prosecute you!"

Hamar, dumbfounded at such an exhibition of wrath, slunk out of the
room without uttering a syllable.

"The vixen,"