r, and afterwards promenaded about the streets in
an aimless sort of a way for some little time, after which he returned
to the Arcade and seemingly anxiously inquired for letters at the
post-office. He got several, but was evidently either disappointed at
what he had received, or at not receiving what he had expected. In any
event he cautiously peered into Lyon's closed offices, as if hoping to
find some one there. Disappointed in this also, he went directly to
State Street, near Main, where, after looking about for a moment, he
suddenly disappeared up a stairway leading to the upper stories of a
large brick block. Fox quickly followed, and was able to catch sight of
the little fellow just as he was entering a room at the side of the
hall. He waited until everything was quiet, and then approached the
door. The light from the single jet in the hallway was not sufficient
for the purpose, but with the aid of a lighted match he was able to
trace upon a neat card tacked to the door the inscription:

B. JEROME LE COMPTE,
POSITIVE, PROPHETIC, HEALING AND TRANCE MEDIUM.
Psychrometrist, Clairvoyant, and Mineral Locater.

As Fox had succeeded in "locating" his man, he returned to his
boarding-house, wrote out his report and posted it, and after carelessly
dropping into the restaurant under Washington Hall, where he took a dish
of ice-cream and found means to inform Bristol of the latest
development, he returned and retired for the night well satisfied with
his day's work, and fully resolved to be on hand for Saturday's sport at
Charlotte.

I received Fox's report the next noon, and not a half-hour afterwards
the splendid Harcout came rushing in.

"Pinkerton, Pinkerton," he exclaimed excitedly, "here's something which
we must attend to at once--at once, mind you, or--bless my soul! I'm
afraid I left it at the St. Nicholas. How could I be so careless!"

Harcout grew red in the face and plunged into all his pockets wildly,
utterly regardless of his exquisite make-up, until quite exhausted.

"Why, Harcout, you're excited. Tell me what's the matter, my man," said
I, reassuringly.

"Matter? matter? everything's the matter. Here's something which should
be acted upon at once, and like an ass I've left it at the hotel. I'll
go back and get it immediately."

"Get what?" I asked him.

"Get a letter that I just received from Lyon. He's there all by himself,
and they will draw him into some terrible confessio