in the
medicine-chest--might search every room in the house for the lost
bottle--and might find it empty. Even if he broke it, and threw the
fragments into the dusthole, the fragments might be remarked for their
beautiful blue color, and the discovery might follow. Where could he hide
it?

While he was still trying to answer that question, the hours of business
came to an end, and the clerks were leaving the offices below. He heard
them talking about the hard frost as they went out. One of them said
there were blocks of ice floating down the river already. The river! It
was within a few minutes' walk of the house. Why not throw the bottle
into the river?

He waited until there was perfect silence below, and then stole
downstairs. As he opened the door, a strange man met him, ascending the
house-steps, with a little traveling bag in his hand.

"Is this Mr. Keller's?" asked the strange man.

He was a jolly-looking old fellow with twinkling black eyes and a big red
nose. His breath was redolent of the smell of wine, and his thick lips
expanded into a broad grin, when he looked at Jack.

"My name's Schwartz," he said; "and here in this bag are my sister's
things for the night."

"Who is your sister?" Jack inquired.

Schwartz laughed. "Quite right, little man, how should you know who she
is? My sister's the nurse. She's hired by Doctor Dormann, and she'll be
here in an hour's time. I say! that's a pretty bottle you're hiding there
under your coat. Is there any wine in it?"

Jack began to tremble. He had been discovered by a stranger. Even the
river might not be deep enough to keep his secret now!

"The cold has got into my inside," proceeded the jolly old man. "Be a
good little fellow--and give us a drop!"

"I haven't got any wine in it," Jack answered.

Schwartz laid his forefinger confidentially along the side of his big red
nose. "I understand," he said, "you were just going out to get some." He
put his sister's bag on one of the chairs in the hall, and took Jack's
arm in the friendliest manner. "Suppose you come along with me?" he
suggested. "I am the man to help you to the best tap of wine in
Frankfort. Bless your heart! you needn't feel ashamed of being in my
company. My sister's a most respectable woman. And what do you think I
am? I'm one of the city officers. Ho! ho! just think of that! I'm not
joking, mind. The regular Night Watchman at the Deadhouse is ill in bed,
and they're obliged to find somebod