t forgotten me, Mr. Bing, have you?" If I had changed
so as to need proof of my identity Alcorn would furnish it. Whatever
his answer, his voice would solve my mystery.

He walked down the stairs with an easy, swinging movement, keeping a
little behind the Prince; waited until Alcorn had opened the street
door and with a nod of thanks followed Polinski out into the night.
Once outside I shrank back into the shadow of the doorway and held my
breath to catch his first spoken word--to the coachman--to the
Prince--to any one who came in his way.

At this moment a man in a slouch hat and poorly dressed, a light cane
under his arm, evidently a tramp, hurried across the street to hold the
cab door. I edged nearer, straining my ears.

The Prince bent his head and stooped to enter the cab. The tramp leaned
forward, shot up his right arm; there came a flash of steel, and the
next instant the tramp lay writhing on the sidewalk, one hand twisted
under his back, the other held in the viselike grip of the
black-bearded man. Alcorn rushed past me, threw himself on the
prostrate tramp, slipped a pair of handcuffs over his wrists, dragged
him to his feet, and with one hand on his throat backed him into the
shadow of the side door.

The Prince smiled and stepped into his carriage. The black-bearded man
dusted his white gloves one on the other, gave an order in a low tone
to the coachman, took his place beside his companion and the two drove
off.

I stood out in the rain and tried to pull myself together. The rapidity
of the attack; the poise and strength of the black-bearded Russian; the
quickness with which Alcorn had risen to the occasion; the absence of
all outcry or noise of any kind--no one but ourselves witnessing the
occurrence--had taken my breath away. That an attack had been made on
the life of the Prince, and that it had been frustrated by his friend,
was evident. It was also evident that accosting a Prince on the
sidewalk at night without previous acquaintance was a dangerous
experiment. When I recovered my wits both Alcorn and the would-be
assassin had disappeared. So had the cab.

Only two morning journals had an account of the affair; one dismissed
it with a fling at the police for not protecting our guests from
annoyance, and the other stated that a drunken tramp had demanded the
price of a night's lodging from the Prince as he was leaving
Delmonico's, and that a member of the Prince's suite had held the
fellow un