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Show TU & fc rHhsm r n& By Randa!!. I 1 116 iviybt! y oi pamsh s Author cf j theSilverDagger "-3 k- Qaz&r Cop jright, by Randall Parrli H no doubt, and a lingering desire to make certain of what was inside the barrier. The entrance was easily found, a mere wooden door, held by an iron clasp, which opened instantly to my touch. I stepped inside, closing it quietly behind nie, and stared uneasily about through the enshrouding blackness. black-ness. My eyes, grown accustomed to the gloom, made out dim outlines, encouraging encour-aging further exploration. Discovering Discover-ing ample space, and what felt to my feet like a walk, I turned the corner in search. At that moment the gate latch clicked sharply, and I sank down into the black ground shadow, every nerve tingling with alarm. The gate operated oper-ated almost noiselessly, yet my strained strain-ed ears could detect its stealthy movement, move-ment, and hear the crunch of a heavy footstep on the cinder path within. The fellow evidently knew his way even in that darkness, for there was no hesitancy in his movements, no uncertainty. uncer-tainty. He faded away along the rear wall, and I became aware that he had turned about the further corner. That would naturally mean there was- a door there. I had evidently been searching the wrong side. Assured the man had vanished, and that he sought entrance to the building build-ing through some passage well known to him, I crept forth along the end wall, crouched low in the shadow, using every precaution against discovery. dis-covery. All that was venturesome in me held high carnival and nothing of danger now could have held me back. I reached the corner around which the fellow bad disappeared, but, in the intense in-tense blackness, could perceive no movement beyond, no sign of any presence. pres-ence. I listened eagerly, scarcely venturing ven-turing to breathe, and in another moment mo-ment was rewarded by hearing the gentle gen-tle tap of knuckles on wood a few feet away ; there could be no doubt of the number two raps, a pause, three raps; the very signal mentioned in the letter. I waited, still breathless, un-' un-' certain what had occurred, yet convinced con-vinced the man ahead had been given entrance. Unable longer to withstand the strain I took' a step forward into the darkness. At that instant the latch of the gate clicked behind me. CHAPTER III. Within the Factory Walls. I stood as though paralyzed, with one foot uplifted, a hand, pressed against the wall, unable to move. tally unable to determine in my own mind what to do. The fellow in the darkness evidently mistook me for some one of the gang. His confidence in my identity as Charlett might win me entrance but what then? That I was not Charlett would certainly be re-, vealed by the first gleam of light, and I would be helpless. I was alone, unarmed, un-armed, and these fellows, beyond question, ques-tion, were engaged in a desperate game. I am sure I should never have ventured it had not my companion suddenly turned and grasped my sleeve. "You saw Mendez, of course?" "Sure." ' "And he vouched for her ; he says she is all right?" "He chose her; that ought to be enough." "H 11, I suppose so, but even Mendez Men-dez has made mistakes. Here's the door." He rapped lightly, his fingers still gripping my sleeve in a grasp of friendship. friend-ship. I could have broken away, and ran for It, but something mysterious held me, some odd fascination of danger. dan-ger. I saw nothing, heard nothing, yet had an instinctive feeling that a narrow nar-row wicket had opened in the door, through which our dim outlines were being scrutinized. I held my breath expectantly. "Wlio is there?" the voice was a mere whisper, so close as to startle me. "Gaspar Wine," was the answer, in the same low tone, "163." "What word?" "Cervantes." "But there are two of you." "Oh, this is one of us. It's all right, Juan ; Til vouch for him." The fellow inside grumbled something some-thing in indistinguishable Spanish, but opened the door silently, just far enough for us to slip through one at a time. I felt Wine press past me, and was aware that the guard closed and barred the door, but could see nothing; not even my own hand before my eyes. A latch clicked softly, and a dim ray of light broke in upon us from a revealed passage beyond. It was so faint as to scarcely render features visible, vis-ible, and, as my coat collar was still upturned, I pressed forward close behind be-hind Wine without discovery. I could perceive someth'.ng of the fellow now, a rather squat figure, concealed by a long. tapeless raincoat, wearing a closely trimmed beard, and horn spectacles. spec-tacles. His features were clearly foreign, for-eign, yet failed to bespeak the fighting type. I placed him as a theorist, a professor, perhaps, in some small college. col-lege. But my thoughts were not so occupied occu-pied with my guide as with the problem prob-lem of how I was to escape from him. I dare not go on into the presence of others, where discovery that I was not Charlett would be immediate. At any cost I must avoid such exposure but how? The place in which we were gave me little Inspiration. It was a low passage-way, inclosed by rough board walls, instantly driving home upon me the impression that It had been constructed for the very purpose for which it was now being utilized a secret entrance to prevent any gleam of light from being seen without. This precaution, coupled with the tightly boarded passage, left the whole building build-ing apparently deserted and desolate, to any chance watcher without. This was evidently no common, vulgar band of schemers, but men with a definite purpose in view, which they were engaged en-gaged in carrying out with true secret efficiency. They were plotting revolution. revolu-tion. Only a strange chance had given me the cl.ew, and only a reckless persistency per-sistency hud opened a way before me. Now my life was no longer my own ; it belonged to my country. I must live to expose these men. But how? My heart failed me as I stared about at the bare walls, and forward to where a heavy curtain draped the end of the passage. This widened as we advanced, so as to form what evidently had been designed as a cloakroom. Wine stopped and removed his coat, appropriating an unoccupied na'l. and I followed his example, rejoicing to observe ob-serve that he still remained so confident confi-dent of my identity as to not nee glance around in my direction. "Hie fellow seemed obsessed wjth some special spe-cial desire, for he swept his eyes over the swinging garments, and exclaimed: "Not half of them here yet. I want a word with Alva before the show ! opens, Charlett. so you better go righ on In. See you later." Fifty-Fifty on a Million ' .-J (TO BE CONTINUED.; THE PLOTTERS. Synopsis. In a New York jewelry store Philip Severn, United States consular agent, notices a small box which attracts him. He purchases it. Later he discovers in a secret compartment a writing giving a clew to a revolutionary movement In this country ostensibly seeking to overthrow the Chilean government govern-ment but evidently -international in character. The writing mentions a rendezvous, and Severn decides to Investigate. Finding the place mentioned men-tioned in the writing apparently deserted, de-serted, Severn visits a saloon in the vicinity. A woman in the place is met by a man, seemingly by appointment, ap-pointment, and Severn, his suspicions suspi-cions aroused, follows them. I CHAPTER II Continued. The street was deserted and rainswept, rain-swept, the few lights showing mere pin-pricks in the darkness. I plunged straight across the street, as though headed for the nearest car line, and then, in the shade of darkness, retraced re-traced my steps, passing the corner, until -1 attained the side entrance. Here, assured that I was safely beyond be-yond observation, I paused to gain some conception of my surroundings. Across from where I stood appeared the dim outlines of a long, ramshackle building, apparently a shed of some kind, while beyond the saloon was a row of one-story dwelling houses, seemingly exactly alike, and exhibiting exhibit-ing no evidence of being occupied. In which direction had the couple turned after their exit through the side door of the saloon to right, or left? Jans had unconsciously pointed in this direction when he told of where the girl lived, and, although that was doubtless a lie intended to deceive, it was no more than natural for him to have thoughtlessly designated the proper point of the compass. I advanced cautiously, finding the narrow sidewalk one of boards, in very bad condition. It was only when I attained at-tained the end of this row of houses, and came to the entrance of a narrow, dark alley, that I found the slightest proof that I was, by good fortune, upon the right trail. It was above this opening that the incandescent bulb flickered dimly, yet, in spite of wind and rain, gave me glimpse of the mud underfoot. The two must have been the only ones passing that way since the drizzle began, for their footprints were yet visible in the soft mud of the crossing as they advanced beyond the safety of the board walk. By bending low, and keeping my own shadow out of the way, I was able to trace their progress for two or three yards quite easily, and then, to my surprise, the footprints turned abruptly to the left, and disappeared entirely. To all appearances the two had proceeded pro-ceeded down the alley. Black, uninviting, unin-viting, as that gloomy passage appeared, ap-peared, they must have turned into it and groped their way forward. Where? For what purpo.se? I could think of but one object the Alva iron factory, the mysterious meeting place at 876 Gans street. Beyond all question this alley would skirt along the hack of that building, and there would be an entrance at the rear. Dare I go on alone, unarmed as I was, knowing nothing of what I might encounter? I hesitated, my heart beating like a trip-hammer, yet, after all the danger seemed more of the imagination im-agination than reality. Besides. I was still young, and venturesome ; the situation situ-ation appealed to me, and well, the memory of that girl's face remained strangely Insistent. Odd as It may seem, her predicament yielded me a reckless desire to have an immediate hand in the game. I found two imprints of her narrow shoe in the mud after the turn had been made, then all trace vanished. I crept forward, enveloped in gloom, keeping as closely as possible to the high board fence at the left. The way was rough underfoot, and my progress consequently slow, being anxious to make as little noise as possible. The passage was so black. I lost all knowledge knowl-edge as to how far I bad gone, and was only aroused to my position by finally coming up against a pile of lumber which completely blocked the further end of the alley. I recalled dimly that the passage swerved here, miming along the side of the Alva factory, until un-til It reached Gans street. Then' the place I sought was to my left, behind the protection of this high fence, along which I had been so csutiously feeling my way. The silence was profound, stupefying, stupefy-ing, uncanny. Against the lighter lead of the upper sky I was barely able ta trace the upper story of the building, but it was nil black, a gloomy, deserted desert-ed hole. Any faith I might have had that the two I had attempted to follow had come there vanished as I strained my eyes ror some gleam of light, or any other sign to denote their presence within. I still believed they had turned down the alley, but this was not their goal ; beyond doubt they had entered en-tered some gate along the way, and thus escaped me entirely. I hardly know what impelled me to grope my wnr back along the fence, blindly feellnj for a gate. Curiosity, I Could Perceive Something of the Fellow Fel-low Now. There was nothing I could do to avert discovery, no place in which I could crouch in hiding. The newcomer moved swiftly, knowing his way through the darkness, and I had scarcely opportunity oppor-tunity to even glance backward when he rounded the corner and bumped into in-to me. "What the h 11!" he exclaimed, startled at the encounter. "Why. d n it, Charlett, what are you slouch-ng here for? You're Charlett, ain't you?" "Y'es," I muttered, the assent actually frightened out of me; then added lamely, "I couldn't remember the signal." sig-nal." The fellow laughed softly, releasing his grip on my coat. "If you attended more meetings you'd be letter perfect," he said, his English without an accent. "Where have you been the last month out of town?" "In Washington," I ventured, praying pray-ing the swift answer might suffice. "Oh, I see." more heartily. "So you were the one Alva sent? Did the woman wom-an come back with you?" The woman ! Who could he mean but the same girl who had been waiting wait-ing In the saloon? I had ventured already al-ready too far to draw hack; I must take yet another oh once, nn answer. "Not with me: that would, be too risky. She is here, though." "Good e:iougl . That means money. Let's go it u" i He pushed pis', and I followed, to- |