Rensselaer Journal, Volume 11, Number 9, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 August 1901 — THE CRIME OF THE CENTURY [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE CRIME OF THE CENTURY

BY RODRIGUES OTTOLENGUI,

Author of “An Artist In Crime,” “A Conflict of Evidence.” “A Modern Wizard,” “Final Proof,” Etc.

(CONTINUED.] “What is It, Peraita? Why do you weep? Has some one injured you? Has some one been tempting you to forget your mother that you should be so moved by her words? Speak to us, Perdita. Tell us all about your trouble. What is It, my dear?” Perdita looked up at him for a moment and endeavoreil to speak, but suddenly again burst into tears and, turning from them both, ran out of the room. Mrs. Van Cortlandt looked after her wouderingly, not yet comprehending all that had happened, and then she said in a low tone: “Poor child! I wish that her father were alive.” The colonel was deeply affected by these words, and, leaning ©ver Mrs. Van Cortlaudt's chair, he hoarsely whispered: “1 will be a father to her if--if you will allow me!” Then, as though fearing that he had spoken too clearly, he also left the room. But he went in search of Perdita. He knew the house well and readily found Perdita’s room and Perdita herself lying across her bed pouring out her heartache in passionate weeping. Twenty minutes later he descended to the parlors again and made a sign to Mr. Mitchel that he would like to leave immediately. So adieus were said, and the visitors departed.. On the street Mr. Mitchel said! “Well?” And Colonel Payton replied: “I do not understand it all yet. But she asked me to send this telegram for her. Perhaps you will know what it means.” Mr. Mitchel took the bit of paper and read merely the address of Matthew Mora, followed by: “Bon voyage!” “Yes, I understand,” said he. “I will send this myself, colonel.” CHAPTER XIX. MATTHEW MOKA’S STATEMENT. Matthew Mora did not receive the dispatch which Perdita had sent to him because Mr. Mitchel deposited it in his pocketbook andtiot in the telegraph office. Therefore he left the city on the midnight train. He was happy in the thought that Perdita would follow him 12 hours later. He had a section to himself, and he slept soundly, satisfied that success was soon to be his. Perhaps he would have had troublous dreams had he seen and recognized the man \vho occupied a section at the farther end of the car and who slept only between stations, starting up wide awake whenever the speed of the train slackened. But he knew nothing of this and reached Boston in a happy frame of mind. Perdita had expected to leave on the noon train. Consequently in the furtherance of his own piahs Mr. Mitchel took an express at 10 o’clock. With him were Lilian and her baby and Rebecca Polaskl, whose presence had cost him a good deal of bartering with her avaricious uncle. Thus this party of four arrived in Boston two hours before Matthew Mora would be expecting Perdita. A suit of rooms at the Hotel Brunswick was engaged, and the girls were made comfortable. Then Mr. Mitchel called a bellboy and commissioned him to Inquire at the desk for the number of Mora’s apartment. Ten minutes after obtaining this information Mr. Mitchel tapped lightly upon the door, and in response to a hearty “Come in!” he entered the room and bowed to the much astonished occupant. “Where the devil did you come from?” ejaculated Mora. “New York,” said Mr. Mitchel. “May I take a seat?” “Why have you come?” “To attend your wedding.” “What the devil do you mean?” “Exactly what I said.” “Look here, Mr. Mitchel! I am not a man to be trifled with.” “Neither am I, Mr. Mora,” said Mr. Mitchel, rising as the other advanced threateningly. “Think before you act rashly. I have not followed you from New York merely for amusement.” “Then why have you come? Answer me at once. I have no time to waste.” “Time is always precious and never should be wasted, but I have already

answered your question. I came to Boston to be present at your weddins.

Do you object to my being a witness?” “You seem to know a good deal about my affairs,” snarled Mora. “If I am to be married, as you say, perhaps you could enlighten me as to the identity of the bride?” “You will be fully enlightened in due time, but first there are some matters to be set straight. Let me see. You expect Perdita Van Cortlandt to arrive by the noon train from New York, do you not?” Although Mora should have been prepared by what he had already heard, he was staggered by these words, which ptoved that all of bis plans were known to this man. “How did you guess that?” he stammered. “Oh, I never guess! It’s a bad habit, common with detectives. I am not one, though you have perhaps confounded me with the class because you met me with one. No; I never act by guesswork. It is knowledge with me always, accurate knowledge.” “It was impossible for you to acquire this knowledge. No one knew my plans except myself and—and the lady.” “And she did not betray you. Yet the seemingly impossible often happens. By accident I was at Mrs. Van Cortlaudt’s house yesterday. Only a pair of portieres separated us when you made the appointment with Perdita. So, you see, it was very simple.” “You contemptible eavesdropper!” “I regretted my position very much. I would have preferred to walk into the room aud disclose the fact of my presence to you. Once I was tempted to do so, but 1 refrained because I did not wish to do you bodily harm, as I certainly should have done had 1 confronted you at that moment.” “You are insolent. But I have no more time. Since you know that the lady is coming you will pardon my going to meet her. She is a stranger in Boston, aud the streets here are tortuous, as you are aware.” “Yes, quite so, but you need not go.” “What do you mean?” ' “Perdita is not coming to Boston.” “You are mistaken. 1 kuow that she is. In fact, 1 am positive of it.” “Well, oue never should be too sure of anything in this world. Now, I happened to make a call at her house last night, aud when I was leaving Perdita Intrusted me with a telegram which she wished me to send.” “A telegram?” “Yes. It was very short—in fact, only two words, ‘Bon voyage!’—and it was addressed to you.” “Curse you, why did you not send It to me? It would have”— “It would have prevented you from coming to Boston? Just so! That is why I did not send it to you.” [TO BE CONTINUED.]

"Where the devil did you come from?’ ejaculated Mora.