at you have made another of your wonderful
discoveries."

"I think I have."

"What is it."

"I believe I have found an heir to the Stevens' fortune."

"I thought you would some day, if there was a surviving heir."

"I believe there is, and I can put my hand on her at any moment."

"Who is the party?"

"Amalie Stevens."

The banker started, and exclaimed:

"I thought you had positive evidence of the child's death?"

"I thought I did, but, alas! it appears now that I was mistaken. I
cannot tell yet, but I will know to-night, I will as sure as my name is
Jack Alvarez."

Again we say to our readers the significance of the above conversation
will be duly explained as our narrative proceeds.

Our hero returned to his lodgings. He had gained very important facts
and he intended to justify them, and early in the evening he proceeded
to a plain little house where the lady, Mrs. Amalie Speir, resided. He
found Mrs. Speir awaiting his presence. He was led into a neatly
furnished room, and taking a seat spoke about some everyday matter, but
his keen, restless eyes were wandering about that room. He was a man of
marvelous quick perceptions, and he discerned that no matter what had
been the early surroundings of the woman who lived in those rooms, her
natural tastes were those of a lady.

"You were to bring me news of my daughter."

"News for your daughter," corrected our hero, and after a moment he
added: "Madam, it is possible I have a very remarkable revelation to
make to you; it is possible that a strange fate brought us together."

"I care only for my daughter, sir. If you have anything to communicate
that concerns my daughter proceed, otherwise I am too distracted to
discuss any other matter."

"I desire to ask you a number of questions concerning yourself, and it
is possible that these questions may concern your daughter more
intimately than you suspect. I ask you to listen to me patiently, and
answer my questions calmly and truthfully as far as your memory will
permit."

"Let me ask, have you made any discoveries concerning my daughter?"

"As yet, no, but I propose to begin my quest to solve the mystery of her
disappearance this very night. I will tell you frankly, I do not believe
you have anything terrible to dread as concerns your child."

"On what do you found your belief?"

"On the facts that you have revealed to me. Of course I cannot say
anything positive at present; by to-morrow I may give yo