the future." No. 3.--(Here we have the first male name, as well as
apparently the most dangerously powerful of all). "Mons. Herbonne, from
Paris. Clairvoyant, seer and fortune-teller. Reads the future as well as
the past, and has infallible charms. Can cast the horoscope of any
soldier about going into battle, and foretell his fate to a certainty."
No. 4.--"Madame Bushe, powerful clairvoyant and influencing medium. Has
secrets for the obtaining of places desired under government, and
love-philters for those who have been unfortunate in their attachments."
Nos. 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9 differing not materially from those before cited
as able to read the past, present and future, rejoin the parted and
influence the whole future life.

And here, as by this time Tom Leslie must certainly have accomplished
his business in Broome Street, and Joe Harris and Bell Crawford sipped
and eaten themselves into an indigestion at Taylor's--this examination
of a subject little understood must cease, to allow the three to carry
out their projected folly. But really how much have superior education
and increasing intelligence done to clear away the grossest of
impositions and to discourage the most audacious experiments upon public
patience? And yet--what shall be said of the facts--uncolored and
undeniable facts--narrated in a subsequent chapter?

CHAPTER XIII.

TEN MINUTES AT A COSTUMER'S--HOW TOM LESLIE GREW SUDDENLY OLD--JOE
HARRIS' SPECULATION ON "THOSE EYES"--ANOTHER SURPRISE, AND WHAT
FOLLOWED.

Mr. Tom Leslie's visit was _not_ to the Police headquarters in Broome
Street, albeit he turned down that street from Broadway when he reached
it after leaving the two ladies at Taylor's. He took the other or upper
side of the street, and stopped immediately opposite the Police
building, at a two-story brick house whereon appeared the name of "R.
Williams" in gilt letters, and a little lower, "Ball Costumer," and in
the two first floor windows of which, over a basement set apart for the
use of persons in need of bad servants and servants in search of worse
places--appeared such a collection of distorted human faces that a
general execution by the guillotine seemed to have been going on, with
all the heads hung up against the glass to dry. The ghastly faces were,
in fact, those of papier-mache masks, waiting for customers desirous of
a certain amount of personal disfigurement, whether on the stage or in
the masked ball; and behind one r