nquet at which the Chief of Police of New York is an
honored guest, and sits down to gaze contentedly into the future of
bliss that a half a million a year will bring.

We bespeak for the reader pleasure, entertainment and diversion in this
absorbing and unusual story.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I. DUSK
II. EIGHT O'CLOCK
III. EIGHT-THIRTY
IV. AN INTERLUDE
V. NINE O'CLOCK
VI. NINE-THIRTY
VII. TEN O'CLOCK
VIII. TEN-THIRTY
IX. ELEVEN O'CLOCK
X. MIDNIGHT
XI. ONE O'CLOCK
XII. TWO-THIRTY A.M.
XIII. WHEREIN LADY HERMIONE "ACTS FOR THE BEST"
XIV. THREE O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING
XV. WHEREIN THE PACE SLACKENS--BUT ONLY FOR A FEW HOURS
XVI. A PARLEY
XVII. WHEREIN JOHN AND HERMIONE BECOME ORDINARY MEMBERS OF SOCIETY

ILLUSTRATIONS

FRANCIS X. BUSHMAN AS JOHN D. CURTIS. BEVERLY BAYNE
AS LADY HERMIONE . . . . . . _Frontispiece_

Scenes from the photo-drama

Scenes from the photo-drama

Scenes from the photo-drama

ONE WONDERFUL NIGHT

CHAPTER I

DUSK

"There, sonny--behold the city of your dreams! Good old New York, as
per schedule. . . . Gee! Ain't she great?"

The slim, self-possessed youth of twenty hardly seemed to expect an
answer; but the man addressed in this pert manner, though the senior of
the pair by six years, felt that the emotion throbbing in his heart
must be allowed to bubble forth lest he became hysterical.

"Old New York, do you call it?" he asked quietly. The tense restraint
in his voice would perhaps have betrayed his mood to a more delicately
tuned ear than his companion's, but young Howard Devar, heir of the
Devar millions--son of "Vancouver" Devar, the Devar who fed multitudes
on canned salmon, and was suspected of having cornered wheat at least
once, thus woefully misapplying the parable of the loaves and
fishes--had the wit to appreciate the significance of the question,
deaf as he was to its note of longing, of adulation, of vibrant
sentiment.

"_Coelum non animum mutat_, which, in good American, means that it is
the same old city on the level, and only changes its sky-line," he
chortled. "Bet you a five-spot to a nickel I'll walk blindfolded along
Twenty-third Street from the Hoboken Ferry any time of the day, and
take the correct turn into Broadway, bar being run over by a taxi or
street-car at the crossings."

"I'll take the same odds and do that myself. How could any normal
human being miss the rattle of