Adams Express office. Roch knew no one in the office, and, as this last
move of Maroney's greatly puzzled him, he telegraphed to me for
instructions. I consulted with the Vice-President, and replied: "Trust
no one. Rely on yourself alone." Roch got the answer in about an hour,
during which time Maroney remained in the Express office.

On leaving the Express office, he went to a daguerrean gallery, remained
some time, and then went to the hotel. On Saturday Maroney again went to
the daguerrean gallery and received a package, which Roch supposed
contained his pictures. He telegraphed me to this effect, and, on a
moment's consideration of the incident, I ordered him to procure a copy
of the picture from the gallery if he possibly could. From the gallery
Maroney proceeded to the amphitheatre of Spaulding & Rogers, on St.
Charles street, and Roch, feeling certain that he would remain at
least an hour, went to the telegraph office, sent the above despatch,
and as soon as he received the answer, went directly to the daguerrean
gallery.

He was now the dashing Southerner, and as he gaily entered the gallery,
twirling his handsome cane, he was welcomed by a pleasant smile from a
young lady, an octoroon, who was the only occupant of the room. Although
of negro extraction, it was scarcely discernable, and moreover she was
possessed of most engaging manners. Roch entered into conversation with
her, in the course of which he asked if his friend who called up the day
before, and whom he described, did not have his picture taken. She said
he did, and that she had one left, which was not a very good one. Roch
asked leave to look at it, and she hunted it up and handed it to him. He
immediately recognized it, and giving her a five dollar bill, became its
owner. So much for brass. Thanking the lady, and also thanking his stars
that the proprietor of the gallery was out when he called, he returned
to the amphitheatre. Maroney came out and went to the hotel, where they
both took dinner. After dinner Maroney walked up and down the reception
room, pondering deeply over some subject, and then took some paper and a
pencil from his pocket. Roch watched him closely as he seated himself to
write, and concluded that he was trying to disguise his hand-writing.
Maroney finished and folded the note, and taking his hat, walked out on
the street. As soon as he reached the sidewalk, he began to limp badly,
as though it was almost impossible for him to