Jess of the Rebel Trail. H. A. Cody
as a kitten."
"Keep back," the woman ordered. "Don't come so close."
"Oh, I'm all right. Don't you worry about me."
Again the man smiled as he rubbed his hands together.
"I wasn't worrying about you," the woman retorted. "I would like to see you burn yourself for your impudence."
Her fear had now vanished, and she was angry. She carefully noted the man's slight figure, and threadbare clothes. But his face was what attracted her most of all. It was somewhat chubby, and when the mouth was expanded by the almost incessant smile the cheeks were wrinkled like corrugated iron. His head was bald, save for a few tufts of hair above the ears. His bulging eyes twinkled with good humour, causing an observer to feel that their owner was well satisfied with himself and the entire world.
"Who are you?" the woman again demanded. "How dare you come uninvited into my room?"
The man straightened, himself up, and standing with his back to the fire brought forth a package of cigarettes, selected one, and deliberately lighted it.
"You don't mind if I have a smoke, do you?" he asked. "It's good for the nerves."
"Indeed I do," the woman replied. "I hate smoking. I never allow it in this room."
"I'm sorry, madame, but you'll soon forget all about it. I have come to see you to-night on very important business, and when I tell you what it is you won't think any more about the smoke."
"Important business! With me? Why, I never saw you before, and I have not the slightest idea who you are. What do you want, anyway?"
"Yes, it's important business, as I have just said, and when I learned that you would see no one to-night I was compelled to force myself upon your presence."
"How did you know that I would see no one to-night? Were you listening at the door?"
"Madame, when you get to know me better you will learn that I am able to read people's thoughts, though doors may intervene. Words are unnecessary to me. I know all."
The man blew a cloud of smoke into the air, and smiled. "Yes," he continued, "I even read your thoughts to-night as you sat before this fire."
"You did!" The woman's eyes grew wide with fear and amazement. "Who are you, anyway?"
"I am merely a stand-between; that has been my business for years."
"A stand-between?"
"Yes, I stand between people and ignorance. I supply them with mental food, books of the first-water. They all know me, and look upon me as a public benefactor."
"So you are a book-agent, then? And you want to sell me some books, I suppose? Is that your business here to-night?"
The man waved his hand haughtily, and flicked the ashes from his cigarette into the fire.
"No, madame, it is not. Business is somewhat dull these days, I must confess. People are not as anxious as formerly for pure literature. There are too many counter attractions. This being so, I find it is becoming more difficult to stand between my family and poverty. Therefore, I am here to-night."
"So you want me to give you some money; is that it?"
"Ah, now I see you understand," and the man's face beamed. "But remember, I come not as a beggar, neither as a suppliant, but merely to receive payment for a favor."
"Payment for a favor!" the woman exclaimed. "What do you mean? I owe you nothing. I never saw you before. What favor?"
"The favor of silence. I know what you were thinking about to-night as you sat here. Your thoughts were in the past, to another night such as this. You were in a private hospital, and——"
He was interrupted by a startled cry from the woman. She was sitting bolt upright, her hands gripping hard the arms of the chair, and her face ghastly white.
"W-what do you know?" she gasped.
"Calm yourself, madame. Although I know all, you have no need to fear."
For a few seconds the woman stared at the man before her. Then she gave an hysterical laugh and sank back in her chair. What did this stranger know? she wondered. Perhaps nothing, and she had made a fool of herself by showing her agitation.
"My nerves are somewhat shaken to-night," she confessed. "I have not been well of late, so your sudden appearance and strange words have rather unsettled me. What do you mean by referring to another night such as this, and to a private hospital? What have they to do with me?"
"A great deal, I should say, madame. If you doubt my knowledge, it is only necessary to mention the name of Hettie Rawlins, now my wife, Mrs. Gabriel Grimsby."
"Hettie Rawlins!" the woman's face showed her perplexity.
"Yes, Hettie Rawlins, the girl who exchanged the babies. Don't you remember her?"
But the woman did not reply. She sat staring at the man before her.
"There is no doubt now about my knowledge is there?" the stranger asked with a smile.
"Heavens, no!" the unhappy woman groaned. "And to think that after all these years I should be thus confronted in my own house, and by a complete stranger. And so your wife told you all?"
"Everything, although she kept the secret for a long time. She told me how you bribed her to exchange your little baby boy for a girl which was born in the hospital on the same day, and the amount you gave the baby's mother for making the exchange."
"Stop, stop," the woman pleaded. "You will kill me."
"But you know it all, madame. You were thinking about it to-night, were you not?"
"I was, I was," and the woman buried her face in her hands.
Presently she lifted her head.
"Where is the boy?" she asked in a hoarse whisper. "Is he alive?"
"And so you are interested in him, madame?"
"Interested? Why, he is with me night and day. Though he must be a young man now, yet I always see him as the little babe I held to my breast. If you know where he is, tell me. I must see him somehow, though he must never know who I am."
"What about the girl, your daughter?" the man questioned. "She must be a comfort to you now, and well takes the place of—of your son."
"Nothing can ever take his place," the woman vehemently declared. I thought so once, fool that I was. But I know better now when it is too late. Where is he? For God's sake, tell me!"
"And you have had no word from him?" the man asked.
"Nothing. I do not even know the woman's name who took him. I thought
I would never want to know."
"Then, madame, it is better for you to remain in ignorance. It would do you no good now to learn anything about him. I, at any rate, shall not enlighten you."
"You won't?"
"No, not now."
"Then why have you come here to-night to inflict this torture upon me?
What good can it do to increase the agony of my tormented soul? Surely
I have endured enough already."
"I come, madame, merely as a stand-between. Business with me has been dull of late, as I have just told you. Therefore, when one door closes another opens. I am not a man to let a good opportunity of earning a few honest dollars slip. I know your story, and, accordingly, am here to receive payment."
"Payment! For what?" the woman asked in amazement.
"For silence. I suppose you don't want this matter known?"
"Good heavens, no! What would my husband and daughter think? Why, I could never face the world again."
"Very