t !â- The Price Of Liberty OR, A MIDNIGHT CALL ea- for " the that W'Hl, It wa= u'(jrt.h a ransom. And, so long as there was nothing dishon- orable attached to it. Steel was pre- pared to redeem his pledge. He knew perfectly well from bitter experience that the poor man pays usurious ; rates for fortune's favors. And he â- was not without a strange sense of gratitude. If Click, click, click. Three electric switches were snapped off almost simultaneously outside, and the din- ing-room was plunged into pitchy darkness. Steel instantly caught up a chair. He was no coward, but he ; was a novelist with a novelist's im- t agination. As he stood there the , sweetest, mcst musical laugh in the world broke on his ear. He caught : the swish of silken drapery and the subtle scent that suggested fragrance ! •of a woman's hair. Tt was vague. ; undefined, yet soothing. i "Pray be seated, Mr. Steel," the silvery voice said. "Believe me, had there been any other way, I would not have given you all this trouble. You found the parcel ad- <Jressed to you? It is an earnest of good faith. Is not that a correct English expression?" David murmured that it was. But what did the speaker mean? She asked the question like a student of , the English language, yet her accent and phrasing were perfect. She laughed again noiselessly, and once more Steel caught the subtle, trancing perfume. "I make no further apology dragging you here at this time, sweet voice said. "We know you were in the habit of sitting up alone late at night, hence the tele- phone message. You will perhaps wonder how we came to know so much of your private affairs. Rest a.ssured that we learnt nothing in Brighton. Presently you may gath- er why I am so deeply interested in you: I have been for the past fort- night. You sec, we were not quite certain that you would come to our assistance unless we could find some means of coercing you. Then we go to one of the smartest inquiry agents in the world and say : 'Tell us all about Mr. David Steel without de- lay. Money is no object.' In less than n week we know all about Beck- stein. Wo leave luattefs till the last moment. If you only knew how revolting it all was'" "So your tone seems to imply, ma- â- dam." Steel said, dryly. "Oh. but truly. You were in great trouble, and we found a way to get you out. At a price: ah. j-es. But yo'ir trouble is nothing compared • with min«> â€" which brings me to busi- ness. A fortnight ago last Monday you posted to Mr. Vanstone. editor of the 'E^ccadilly Magazine.' the synopsis of the lirst four or five chapters of a proposed serial for the journal in question. You open that story with a young and beautiful woman who is in deadly peril. Is not that so?" "Y'es," Steel said, faintly, "It is just as you suggest. But how " "?J«ver mind that, because I am not going to tell you. In common parlanco â€" is not that the word â€" that â- woman is in a frightful fix. There is . nothing strained about your heroines situation, because I have heard of people being in a similar plight be- fore. Mr. Steel, I want you to tell me truthfully and candidly can you se« the waj' clear to save your hero- ine 7 Oh, I don't mean by the long Arm of coincidence or other favorite ruses known to your craft. 1 mean by conunon sense, logical methods. by brilliant ruses, by Machiavellian means. Tell mo. do you see a way?' ' ' The question came eagerly, almost Imploringly, irotu the darkness. Dav- id could hear the quick gasps of his questioner, could catch tlie rustle of the silken corsage as she breathed. "Yes." ho said, "I can sec a bril- liant \vny out that wi^uld satisfy the •trictest logician. But you " "Thank Heaven! Mr. Steel, I am vour heroine. 1 am placed in exact- ly the same positioji as the woman whose story you ur.- c'Uig to write. The setting is dilToront, the local coloring is not the same, but the same deadly p».-ril menaces me. For the love of Heaven hold out your hand to save a lonely and desperate woman whose only crime is that she is rich and beautiful. Providence had placed in my hands the gist of your heroine's story. Hence this i masquerade: hence the fact that you arc here to-night. 1 have heliJod you â€" help me in return." It was some time before Steel •poke. "It shall be as you wish," he said. "I will tell you how 1 propose to save m5' heroine. Her sufferings are Action: yours will be real. But if ,vou «r« to lie saved by the same moans, 1-roaven help you to bear the troubles that arc in front of you. Before God. it would be more in«ci- ful (or me to be silent nni let you go your owR wfty." CHAPTFR III. DaTid was silent for some Utile time. The strnngeness of the situa- tion had shut down on him agaia. and lie was thinking of nothing else for the moment. In the dead still- ness of the place he could hear the quick breathing of his companion; the rustle of her dress seemed near to him and then to be ver>- fair off. Nor did the pitchy darkness yield a jot to his now accustomed eyes. He held a hand close to his eyes, but he could see nothing. "Well?" the sweet voice in the darkness said, impatiently. "Well?" "Believe me. I will give you all the assistance possible. If you would only turn up the light " "Oh, I dare not. I have given my word of honor not to violate the seal of secrecy You may say that we have been absurdly cautious in this matter, but you would not think so if you knew everything. Even now the wretch who holds me in his power may have guessed my strategy and be laughing at me. Some day, perhaps ' ' The speaker stopped, with some- thing like a sob in her throat. "We are wasting precious time," she went on. more calmly. "I had better tell you my history. In your story a woman commits a crime : she is guilty of a serious breach of trust to save the life of a m a n she loves. By doing so she places the future and the happiness of many people in the hands of an abandoned scoundrel. If she can only manage to regain the thing she has parted from the situation is saved. Is not that so?" "So far you have stated the case correctly," David murmured. "As I said before, I am. in practi- cally similar case. Only, in my sit- uation, I hastened everything and risked the happiness of many people tor the sake ot" a little child." "Ah!" David cried. "Y'our own child? yo ' The child of one very- near and dear to you. then. From the mere novelist point of view, that is a far more artistic idea than mine. I see that I shall have to amend mv story before it is publish- ed." A rippling little laugh came like the song of a bird iu the darkne-ss. "Dear Mr. Steel," the voice said. "I implore you to do nothing af the kind. You are a man of fertile im- agination â€" a plot more or less makes no difference to you. If you publish that story you go tar on the way to ruin me." "I am afraid that I am in the dark in more senses than one," David murmured. "Then let me enlighten you. Daily vour books are more widely read. My enemy is a great novel reader. You publish that story, and what re- sults? You not only tell that en- emy my storj-. but you show him my way out of the difficulty, and show him how he can checkmate my every move. Perhaps, after I have es- caped from the net " "You are right," Steel said, promptly. "From a professional point of view the storj- is abandon- ed. And now you want me to show you a rational and logical, a human, way out." "If you can do so you have my everlasting gratitude." "Then you must tell me in detail what it is you want to recover. My heroine parts with a document which the villain knows to be a lorgerj-. Money cannot buy it back because the villain can make as much money as he likes by retaining it. He does as he likes with the family property: ho keeps my heroine's husband out of England by dangling the forgery and its consequences over his head. What is to bo done? How is the rutlian to be bullied into a false sense of security by the one man who do- sires to throw dust in his eyes?" "Ah." the voice cried, "ah, if you could only tell me that! Let my ruf- fian only imagine that I am dead: let him have proofs of it. and the thing is done. I could roach him then: I could tear from him the let- ter that â€" but I need not go into de- tails. But ho is cunning as the serpent. Nothing but the most con- vincing proofs would satisfy him." "A certificate of death signed by a physician beyond reproach?" "Yes. that wouI:l do. But you couldn't get a medical man like that to commit felony." "No. but wo could trick him into it." Stool exclaimed. "In my story s fraud is perpetrated to blind the villain and to derive him of his wea- pons. It is a case of the end justi- fy lig the means. But it is one thing, my dear lady, to commit fraud actually and to perjietrnte it in a novel. In the latter ca.-io you can defy the police, but unfortunately you and I are doalinjj with real life. If I am to help you I must be a party to n felony." "But you will ! You are not going to draw back noW Mr. Ste«l. I have saved your homo. Yiu aio a happy man compared to what you were two hours ago. If the risk is-jtreiat you have brains and iinaginntion to get out of danger. Show mo how to do it, and the test shall be mine. You have never seen nic. you know noth- ing, not even the name of the person who called you over the telephone. You hav,! only to keep your own cour.s«»l. arid if I wade in blood to i my end you are safe. Tell me how l I can die. disappear, leaving that i one man to believe I am no more. .\nd don't make it too infjenlous. Don't forget that you promised to tell me a rational way out of the Idiiflculty. How can it be done?" I "In my pocket I have a cutting 'from the 'Times.' which contains a 'chaptt?r from the history of a medi- cal student who is alone in London. It closely resomoles my plot. He ' says he has no friends, and he deems it prudent for reasons we need not discuss to let the world assume that he is dead. The rest is tolerably easj'. He disguises him.=e!f and goes to a doctor of repute, whom he asks I to come and see his brother â€" i.e., himself â€" who is dangerously ill. The doctor goes later in the day and finds his patient in bed with severe inter- Inal inflammation. This is brought I about by a free u.«e of albumen. I don't know what ;imount of albumen (One would take without extreme risk, but you could pump that information joiit of any doctor. Well, our medi- cal man calls again and yet again. land finds his patient sinking. The ine.vt day the patient, disguised, calls [upon his doctor with the information that his 'brother' is dead. The doc- Itor is not in the least surprised, and 1 without going to view the body gives ja certiricate of death. Now. I ad- mit that all this sounds cheap and 'theatrical, but you cant get over ! facts. The thing actually happened I a littJe time ago in London, and itliere is no reason why it shouldn't happen again." "You suggest that I should do this thing?" the voice asked. "Pardon me, I tlid nothing of the kind," Steel replied. "Y'ou asked I me to show you how my heroine gets herself out of a terrible position, and I Hm doing it. Y'ou are not I without friends. The way I was 'called up to-night and the way I was j brought here prove that. With the laid of your friends the thing is pos' isible to you. You have only to !':nd a lodging where people ore not too I observant and a doctor who I is too busy or too careless, ! to look after dead patients, and the thing is done. It you desire to be looked upon as dead â€" espe«'ially 'by a powerful enemy â€" I cannot te- Icommend a more natural, rational way than this. As to the details, they may be safely left to you. The clover manner in which you have .kept up the mystery to-night ccn- 'vinces me that 1 have nothing to i teach you in this direction. And if there is anything more I can cCo â€" " ' "A thousand, thousand thanks," the voice cried, passionately. "To be looked upon as 'dead.' to 'le near jto the rascal who smiles to think 'that I am in mv grave. 'ind evoiy- ! thing so dull ani prosaic on the sur- face! Yes, I have friends vho will 'aid me in the business. '-?ome day I I may be able to thank you face to I face. " to tell you How I mauaged I to see your plot. May I?" The question came quite eacctly, almost imploringly. In the darkness Steel felt a hand trembling i.n his breast, a tool, slim hand, wit'i many rings on the fingers. Steel took the hand and carried it to his lips. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure, " he said. '.â- Xnd may you I be succe.s-'t'ul. Good-night." ' "Good-night. and tiod bless you for a real gentleman and a true friend. I will go out of the room 'first and put the lights up after- wards. You will walk away and close the door behind you. The news .paper cutting! Thanks. And once 'more good-night, but let us hope not i good-bye." I She was gone. Steel could hear the distant dj-ing swish of silk, the rustling of the portiere, and then, iwith a flick, the lights came up j again. Half-blinded by the sudden [illumination Steel furibled his way to the door and into the street. As he did so Hove Town Hall clock ; chimed two. With a cigarette be- Itween his teeth David made his I home. Ho could not think it all out Ihe would wait until he was in lown comfortable chair under i roses and palms leading from I study. A fine night of adventure, 'truly, and a paying one. He press- ed the precious packet of notes to his side and his soul e.xpanded. j He was home at last. But surely I he had closed the door before he 'Started? lie remembered distinctly ; trying the latch. And here the latch was back and the door open. The i quick snap of the electric light de- ; dared nobody in the dining-room. I Beyond, the study was in darkness, j Nobody there, but â€" stop! A stain on the cari^et: another by ; the conservatorj- door. Pots of ! flowers scattei-ed about, and a hud- idled mass like a litter of empty sacks in one corner. Then the hud- tili>d mass resolved itself into the figure of a man with a white face {smeared with blood. Dead! Oh â- dead enough. j Steel flew to the telephone jrang furiously. i "Give mo .">2. Police Station, i cried. ".â- Vre you there? Send some- body at once up here â€" !.'». Downond TciTnce. There has been murder â- done here. For Heaven's sake come quickly." . >>te«l dropped the receiver and I staretl with strained eyes at the dreadful sight before him. way yet: his the his yes and he CHAPTER IV. i: ^:,: For some time â€" a minute, an hour ] â€" Steel stood over the dreadhJl thing , huddled upon the floor of his conser- ; vntory. Just then he was incapable j of con.oecutive ideas. ' Mis mind ^gan to move at length. The more he thought of it the more ' absolutely certain he wa.s thai he | had fastened the door before lea\"ing ' the 'nouse. TVue, the latch was on- I ly an ordinary one, and a key might â- easily have Ix'en made to nt it. As ; a matter of tact, David had two. one iu reserve in case of accidents. The other was usually kept in a jewel- drawer of the dressing-table. Per- hapsâ€"^ David went quietly upstairs. It Was just possible that the murderer was in the house. But the closest search brought nothing to light. He pulled out the ;ewel-drawer in the dressing-tahle. The spare latch-key ' had gone! Here was sceielhing to go upon. Then there was a rumbling of an electric bell s<.m>?where that set David's heart beating like a drum. The hall light streamed on a police- man in uniform ami an inspector in a dark overcoat aiid a hard felt hat. On the pat'ement was a long shallow : tray, which David rrjcognLsed mechan- ically as the ambulanci'. "Something very serious, sir? " In- spector Marley asked, fjuietly. "I've brought the doctor with mo." David noiiried. Both the inspector and the doctor were acquaintances o; his. He closed the door and led the way into the study. Just inside the conservatorj- and not far from the huddled figure lay David's new cigar-case. Doubtless. without knowing it, the owner had whisked it off the table when he had sprang the telepnone. I â- Um." Marley muttered. "Is this a clue, or yours, sir?" I He lilted the case with its dia- diamonds gleaming like stars on a dark night. David had forgotten all 'about it for the time, had forgotten where it came from, or that it con- tained £250 in bank-notes. "Not mine." tie said. "I mean to say, of course, it is mine. .\ recent present. The shock oi this discov- erj- has deprived me of my senses pretty well." Marley laid the cigar-case on the 'table. It Eeemed strange to him, I who could follow a tragedy calmly, that a man should forget his own i property. Meanwhile Cross was bending over the body. David could see a face smooth like that of a wo- man. A quick little exclamation came from the doctor. "A drop of brandy here, and quic'^ as possible," he commanded. "You don't mean to say," Steel began: "you don't " Cross waved his 3rm, impatiently. jThe brandy was procured as speedily !as possible. Steel, watching intent- ly, fancied that ho detected a slight flicker of the muscles of the white stark face. "Bring the ambulance here." Cross said, curtly. "If we can get this poor chap to the hospital there is just a chance for him. Fortunately vve have not many yards to go. " .Vs far as elucidation wont Marley naturally loo!<ed to Steel. "I should like to have your ex- planatiiin. sir." he said gravely. "Positively, I have no explanation to otTer. ' David replied. "About i midnight I let myself out to go for !a stroll, carefully closing the door ! behind me. Naturally, the door was ion the latch. When 1 came back an hour ot so later, to my horror and surprise I found those marks of a I struggle yonder and that poor fel- llow l.ving on the floor of the conser- ivatorj-." "'Um. Was the door fast on your I return? " I "No. it was pulled to. but it was op-n all the sumo. ' "You didn't happen to lose your latch-key during your idnight stroll sir?" "No. it was only when I put my key in the door that I discovered it to be open. 1 have a spare latch-key which I keep for emergencies, but iwhon I went to look for it just now i the key was not to be found. When II came back the house was perfectly I quiet." "What family have you, sir? .\t»,l what kind of servants?" "There is only myself and my mother, with three maids. You may I dismiss any suspicion of the servants I from your mind at once. My mother llraiiiod them all in the old vicarage I whore I was bom. and not one of the ! trio has boon with us less than twelve years.' i "That simplifies matters some- what," Marley said, thoughtfully. '.Vpparontl.v your latch-key was stol- en by somebody who has made care- ful study of your habits. Do you generally go for late walks after yotir household has gone to bed, sir? " David replievi somewhat erudgingly â- that ho had never done such a thing Jhoforo. He would like to have con- i-caled the fact, but it was bound to come out sooner or later. He had i strolled along the front at»i round â- Brunswick Square. Marley shrugged his shoulders. "Well, it's a bit of a puzzle to me," he admitted. "You go out for a midniuht walk â€" a thing you have never done before â€" and when you come back you find somebody has got into your house b.v moons of a rtulen latch-key and nnirderod some- body else In your consprvntory. .Ac- cording to that. two people must have entered the house." "That's logic." David admitted "There can be no murder without the slain nnd the slayer. My impres- sion is that somebody who knows the ways of the house watched .me- depart. Then he lured his vktinj in here under luetence that it was his own hotisc â€" he had the purloined lntcl>-koy â€" and murdcrM him. .\ll- dnrious but a far safer way than doing tt out of doors" But Marloy's Imngiritlon refused to go so tar. The theory was plau- sible enough, he pointed out respect- fully, if the a36a.s«in had been as- sured that these midnight rambles were a matter of custom. Hie point was a shrewd one, and Steel had to admit it. He almost wished now that he had sugge.^ted that he often took these midnight rambles. He ri'gretted the ilclion still more when Marley a3ke<t if he had had some ap- pointment elsewhere to-night. "No." Dapid said, promptly, "I hadn't." He prevaricated without hesitation. His adveature in Brunswick .Square could not possibly have anything to do with the tragedy, and nothin? would bo gained by betraying that trust. "I'll run round to the hospital and come and see you again in the morn- ing, sir," ifarley said. "Whatever was the natura of the crime, tt wa.sn't rohl>ery. or the criminal wouldn^ have left that cigar-cate of yours behind. Sir .James Lythem had one stolen like that at the last races, and he valued it at £80." 'I'll come as far as the hospital with you. " said Stool. .\t the bottom oi the flieht o: steps they encoun'ered Dr Cross and the policeman. The iorram- handed over to Marley a pocket-'oook and soaue papers, together with a watch and chain. "Everything tiiat we could dad upon him." ho e^piain.Ki "Is the poor fellow dead yet?" David asked. "No," Cross replie<i. "He was stabbed twice in the back in the re- gion of the liver. I could not say for sure, but there is just a chaaca that he may recover. But one thing is pretty certain it will be a good time before he is in a position to say anvthing for himself. Good-night Mr. Steel." David went indoors thoughtfully, with a general feeling that something like a hand had graspeti his brain and was squeezing it like a sponge He was free from his carking anxiety now. but it seemed to him that he was paying a heavy price for his lib- erty. Mechanically, he counted out the banknotes, and almost as mech- anically he cut; his initials on the gun-metai inside the cigar-case. He was one of the kind of men who like to have their initials everywhere. He snapped the lights out and went to bed at last. But not to sleep. The welcome dawn came at length and David took his bath gratefully. He would have to tell his mother what had happened, sup- pressing all reference to the Bruns- wick Square episode. It was not a pleasant storj-. hut Mrs. Steel as- similated it at length o'-ev her earlj- lea and toast. â- It might have been jou, my dear," she said, placidly. "And, in- deed, it is a dreadful business. But whj- not telephone to the hospital and ask how the poor fellow is? " The patient was better, but was ptill in an unconscious condition. (To be Continued.) When ABOUT FLATTEST. it is Coniniendable When Meaningless. and WTicn it comes to a choice between the so-called liatlerer and the wo- uuiu who "sa\-s right out just what she means. ' ;t is general I j- hard to decide. but som.- varieties of the flatteri-r do desf-rve a good word. The neighborhood accuses a certain woman of m>- acquaintance of giving "too much molass^'s for the bread," yet it atlnuts that she never speaks 'an unkinvl word of any one. 'Think what that means! If I could build 'up a reputation like that. I wouW i willingly !ie known as the managing director of a spiritual sugar rerinery. If j'ou f'-el cast down about j'our juit-purchasod hat. or dress, or pic- I ture, or sideboard, this alleged ilat- torer will open your ev-es to its sav- ing qualities. If your now window shades seem too bilious-colored to be endured, she will point out to you that they are twin bursts of sunsnine in an othei-wise grey and cloudy world. If you are simply j blue without reason, she will give I you a good reason for being other- wise. It is the habit of her life to make the bea.t of every person and evfi-y set of circumstances that comes to her. Thi.». of course, is no defence of {the flatterer, who is always at <!um- I mor heat in j'our presence, and sinks to biting frost when j-our back is I turned. It is only a plea that tha : latter should not be confounded with the woman who makes of every st->- icial atmosphere "good growing weo- 'ther" for the ever lovely •v-irtues of â- trust and charitj". harmony and hope. I HOW IXniANS COUNT. ! TTie Indians of Guinea have a curi- [Ous sj'stain of numeration. They I count b^ the han>i and "s 'â- "â- â- r tiag- I ers. Tlias. when they reach five, in- stead of saying so. they oall It a , hand." Si.i. is. therefore, a "hand and first finger": seven, a "hand nnd ISocoik! finger." Ten is "two hands": but twenty, instead of being "four nands." is a "man. " Forty ie "two iraon." and thus they go on by tweo- itios. Forty-six is expres.sed as "two imon. a hand and first finger." FRB'.SH AIR TAULKTS. "Vresh air tablets" have been pre- pared by a foreign scientist, who. whijtt irqtestigating acetj lene. 'ounii a ci^bidktioR cri several chenUicals. which. befn.c droppw* Intfli water, dis- solvoii and gave fo;th pure oxygon. Such tablets should be e-xtremely use- ful in closed carriages. â- MbmiXria* boats, and minae.