d twice seen him, and the chase after him and his
companions which had cost him so long a ride only a few days before. It
may be said, in this place, that he had heard nothing from
Superintendent Kennedy, before leaving the city, of the watch placed
upon the house and its result,--and that after the second adventure of
the house on Prince Street, and the opening of the new channel into
which his thoughts and feelings had been led by the meeting with Joe
Harris, he had not thought proper to follow up the mystery, and
consequently had no knowledge that any of the parties had left New York.

All those thoughts, and the counter one that the man before him had
really done him no harm but had once rendered him an important
service--passed through the mind of Leslie so quickly that the other
must have been a close observer to know that they were passing at all.
As a result, by the time that they became fairly confronted and Dexter
Ralston held out his hand, that of Tom Leslie met him with all apparent
frankness.

"Mr. Ralston," he said, owning a part of the truth, "really you
surprised me."

"So I suppose," said the other; "and yet I have been standing here,
leaning against one of the posts of the Pavilion, for several minutes;
and I am certainly not so small of stature as to be easily overlooked."

"No," laughed Leslie. And then he added. "But yonder is something
larger. The Falls dwarf everything, and I suppose _hide_ everything."

"Very probably," said Ralston. "Were you walking back towards the
bridge? Shall I walk with you? That is--I mean to ask--are you alone?"

"Oh yes, all alone!" said Leslie. "I am at the Cataract. And you--are
you staying here?"

"I _have_ been staying at the Clifton," answered the other, as they
strolled back across the Island. "But just now I am at the Monteagle. It
is long since we met," he added. "You have been in Europe, have you not?
I think you told me you were going, when I saw you last."

"Yes," said Leslie, "I have been in Europe again, and only came back
last spring." But he added a mental enquiry that was by no means shaped
into words: "_Did_ I say to him that I was going to Europe? or does he
keep watch of me and know my every movement, through the mysterious
agency of the woman of the Rue la Reynie Ogniard?"

"You are a newspaper man still?" asked Ralston, after a momentary
silence, as they walked on.

"Yes," said Leslie, "I am still at that drudgery, in my own way, and
sha