uickly, "I can furnish you the name of another
man--very rich, very rich he is, too--who should be by law more her
husband."

"Well," said I angrily, though now fully believing the little fellow for
the first time, "write this out fully; give me the man's name, business
or occupation; his place of residence, his standing, etc.; how he became
acquainted with this woman and under what circumstances they lived
together, and when and where; and when you give me the information, if I
find it reliable, I will pay liberally for it. If not, I won't pay you a
cent. Now, do we understand each other?"

"I think we do," he answered timidly.

"Le Compte," said I sternly, "there's no use of your practising this
clairvoyant game any longer. You won't get a dollar out of it; not a
dollar. I understand all about it as well as you do. Now, have a care
about yourself, sir, or one of these bright days you'll be coming up
with a sudden turn."

I now started towards the door; but the persistent scamp seemed anxious
to still keep me, on some manner of pretext, and stood holding the key
in a confused, undecided way.

"Open that door, you villain!" I demanded; "open it at once, or you'll
get into trouble."

He started suddenly, put the key in the lock, and then turned to me and
asked: "Won't you give me opportunity to show you I do not swindle. Just
let me make some few little passes over your head. I will sure put you
to sleep quickly!"

"I am not sleepy, nor do I need sleep now, thank you. I had a good nap
about an hour since," I answered, laughing at the little fellow's
annoyance. "Now open that door!"

Le Compte shrugged his handsome shoulders despairingly, unlocked the
door, and as I passed out of the no less than robber's den--though under
the guise of a mediumistic and spiritualistic blackmailing
headquarters--he said: "Well, sir, I will think of this statement a
great deal; but you are a very untractable man; a very untractable
man--what might I call your name?"

"Oh, anything you like, my little man!" I replied pleasantly; "but mind,
we won't have any more of this silly business. It won't pay, and you
will certainly get into trouble from it. You may send the statement to
George H. Bangs, at the post-office, by Monday noon, and if it is what
you represent it to be, and reliable, you will be paid for it; but you
may be very, very certain, Le Compte, that it will prove extremely
unprofitable to you if you attempt any more of t