W 
 H 
 
 w ^ 
 i p^ 
 
 H P3 
 
 W 
 
 t-1 
 
 w 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 
 r 
 
 35 
 
 
 
 w 
 
 H 
 
 UJ 
 
 a: 
 
 H 
 
 CJ 
 
 O 
 
 o 
 
 S 
 
 10 
 
 LL 
 
 
 N 
 s 
 
 S 3 .2 
 1^ ^ c 
 
 Co ^ ^ S. 
 
 ?Q?a;^ 
 feq - ^ 
 
 - w . 
 
 w C en 
 
 , < 
 
 : .i .T: 
 co : ~ S3 
 
 S -.'B0 
 
 {J3 8 *J - 
 n> u n 
 
 K a <u 
 '2 "55 
 
 N rt-3 
 
 ou5 
 a^^ 
 
 CO-Srf 
 
 M rt g 
 
 *S*d 
 
 O a <3 <u 
 
 ^ 
 
 o 
 in 
 
 e r 
 834! 
 
 ^5 
 
 V 
 
 .s u 
 
 rt o 
 U cu 
 
 1 3 
 
 o J:: 
 
 fe 
 
 5 
 
 O 
 
 o 
 
 O 
 
 o 
 
 ^ 
 
 * 
 
 a 
 
 o^ 
 < 
 
 O 
 
 
 
 3 
 t^ 
 
 o 
 
 U5
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Our story opens way bacK in the almost forgotten past. In 1855, 
 the old Matteson House stood on the corner of Randolph and Dearborn 
 streets, and next to the Tremont, was considered the best hotel in Chi- 
 cago. Among its patrons it included nearly all the sporting men, both 
 residents and visitors from abroad. In fact, "men of the world 1 ' looked 
 upon the plain old brick structure as a sort of a home, and made it their 
 headquarters. The landlord was a clever and obliging host, who never 
 objected to a "quiet game" in his parlors and a day seldom passed in 
 which sittings at the card table did not take place. Draw poker was 
 the game most frequently played, but occasionally a faro lay-out was 
 improvised, and many a traveling man has "bucked the tiger* on that 
 corner to his sorrow. 
 
 On a rather mild December night, in the year named, a party of 
 sports from New York, four in number, had been dealing faro in one of 
 the front parlors on the second floor. They were not known in Chicago, 
 having come here for the purpose of "skinning" Western "suckers," by 
 means of the devices so well known to expert gamblers. It had been a 
 lucky night for them. Several business men had dropped in with 
 money and dropped out without it, and "the bank" was the winner by 
 about a thousand dollars. Under such circumstances, they naturally 
 felt easy at mind, and were in excellent trim for adventure and frolic, 
 cost, what it might. 
 
 "Boys," said the man who seemed to be the leader of the gang, 
 "we've played lucky to-night; the game is over, the bank is closed; now 
 I propose that we have a little fun, after our hard, honest work! What 
 do you say, pards? shall we make a night of it?" 
 
 The other three were only too willing. They were "boys" who 
 were ever ready for adventure and excitement of any kind, but who 
 were especially fond of frolic spiced with female frailty and such was 
 the understood meaning of "making a night of it," as suggested by 
 their companion and leader.
 
 They had already drank moderately and further "refreshments" 
 were ordered, while another waiter was instructed to secure a hack for 
 their use. A sport, with money, in those days, would consider it a burn- 
 ing disgrace to be seen walking, even a block's length, when out for 
 pleasure. 
 
 The drinks disposed of, and the "tools" laid away, the lucky 
 gamblers left the room, with the intention of at once taking a carriage 
 and making a trip "around town" an expression with many meanings, 
 but which on this occasion had reference to the fashionable "palaces of 
 sin" that in those days flourished to a limited extent in Chicago. The 
 city, it should be remembered, was only about one-tenth as populous as 
 it is in this good year '82. 
 
 The hall was brilliantly lighted, and from the dining-room came 
 sounds of music and merriment. The "help" employed in the house 
 were enjoying a hop, and having a right happy time. Before they 
 reached the head of the stairway, the four halted simultaneously, and 
 gazed with undisguised admiration upon the loveliest young girl they 
 had ever seen! She was walking slowly toward them, on the arm of a 
 man of their own profession, who had been in their room that very 
 evening George Trussell, a handsome, dashing, liberal, popular sport, 
 who seemed always "in luck" not only at cards, but in winning the 
 attentions and affections of the ladies. But the men had no eyes for 
 George they were devouring the marvelous beauty of the voluptuous 
 girl, whose bare and shapely arms, whose raven tresses, whose heaving 
 bosom, whose glowing cheeks, whose lustrous eyes, and whose faultless 
 figure were displayed to wonderful advantage by the glaring gas light. 
 She was indeed a perfect picture of lovely womanhood; and the men 
 hardened libertines though they were seemed spell-bound for the mo- 
 ment, as though a charm of some heavensent enchantment had been 
 thrown over them. 
 
 George Trussell and his fair companion were so wrapped up in 
 their whispered conversation that they did not even see the New Yorkers, 
 much less notice the ardent, admiring glances that fell upon the queenly 
 belle of that night's ball. And it was well that they did not, for George 
 was a man of quick passion, and an improper look, even, upon the girl 
 at his side would have kindled a dangerous flame in his combustible 
 bosom. He had met her that night for the first time, and the dashing 
 young sporting man was "struck;" he was desperately in love: he was 
 infatuated so completely fascinated that his whole earnest soul beamed 
 in his expressive eyes, and his flushed face told of a passion as uncon- 
 trollable as the wild winds or the mad waves.
 
 "Who is that beauty?" asKed the leader of the four entranced 
 sports, whispering in the ear of a colored waiter. 
 
 "Dat gal?" was the reply, indicating with a wink and a nod; "why, 
 boss, dat's one 'o de biskit shooters." 
 
 "She waits on the table, does she?" 
 
 The nig nodded and grinned. 
 
 "And doesn't she do cliatnber-worK, also?" 
 
 "Lawd Gawd, no ! She's not one o' dem gals dat a feller can fool 
 wid a bit! Oh, no, honey, yer can't get none o' yer monkey work in on 
 dat gal! She's a daisy, she is!" 
 
 The gambler slipped a silver half dollar into the hand of the porter, 
 and drew him to one side. 
 
 "You think she's a square girl, then I should iudge ?" 
 
 "Suah! suah's you're a born man!" 
 
 "But that man she's so sweet on is a sport a gamb a rodnder a 
 b'hoy, who never had anything to say to a decent girl in his life. 
 What's lie doing with her?" 
 
 "Dunno, dunno; but he'll git left if he means bad, for dar's not a 
 crooked har in de head of dat little chile!" 
 
 "You told me she was a dining-room girl, but did not tell me her 
 name. Do you know it?" 
 
 "Her name's Mollie." 
 
 "Her/wW name, I mean Mollie what?" 
 
 "Dat's what I dun can't tell. Some of us calls her Moll, stvme 
 Mollie, and when we want to 'stinguish her from the other Mollies in 
 dis yer house, we calls her Irish Mollie !" 
 
 "Ah, that's the name, is it ! IRISH MOLLIE ! And a right nice name 
 it is, too, my boy. But let her be careful, very careful, or the dear little 
 dove will be soiled before she knows a feather's stained or a hair 
 scorched!" 
 
 The man then joined his companions, and, as if by mutual under- 
 standing, they returned to the room they had left, without speaking a 
 word. 
 
 The one who had questioned the porter, and who seemed to take it 
 for granted that he was the party most interested in the somewhat 
 strange episode, broke the silence, after the door had been closed. 
 
 "Boys," he said, as they all stood face to face, "I've altered my 
 mind. The programme for this evening's entertainment has been 
 changed! That little beauty out there has turned my brain bottom side 
 up! I'm clean gone on her! She's the most lovely little witch that ever 
 wore petticoats, and if I don't catch her, all for myself, before the sun 
 wakes up in the morning, you may call me the rankest sucker &at ever
 
 heeled a bet or called a turn on the odd card ! But I may need help. 
 Perhaps the little fool won't appreciate my beauty or winning ways, 
 either. She may kick; and if she does, I want you all to stand by me, 
 and help me out. Will you do it?" 
 
 The three scoundrels did not for an instant hesitate to pledge 
 themselves to do the dirty work of their leader, and he continued : 
 
 "We have engaged a hackman, and we'll keep him. I'll put up a 
 job on this square little piece of proud flesh. In less than two hours 
 from now we'll have her in that close carriage and then 
 
 "Oh, then she's a goner!" chimed in the gang, with coarse leers; 
 for they knew their man, and were well aware that he would resort to 
 the most daring measures to secure any prize of that kind that he might 
 covet. 
 
 Ten minutes later and they were all in the large dining-hall, mixing 
 freely with the merry-makers, and apparently enjoying themselves as 
 thoroughly as any one in the jolly throng. But that evil-minded man 
 was watching his intended prey as a wolf would watch a lamb he was 
 about to devour! He had planned a bold scheme, and was determined 
 to accomplish his base ends at any hazard, let the result be what it 
 might! He was drunk with the sweet delirium of an overpowering and 
 consuming passion ! The one thought uppermost in his mind made him 
 a very lion of bravery, if the carrying out of a wicked plot by desperate 
 means can be called bravery, and that dark thought made him wild to 
 frenzy. But he was a man of wonderful self-control, and could wreathe 
 his handsome face in smiles while his heart beat with maddened fury, 
 and his mind was gloating with lascivious delight over the accomplish- 
 ment of an act that would burn with a red brand of shame the spotless 
 brow of a pure young girl! 
 
 "That Chicago boy thinks he's got a soft thing! He's playing his 
 trump cards well, but he'll lose the game, he'll lose the game ! Before 
 the last trick is taken the little joker will sweep the board, and the gay 
 George Trussell will find himself euchered ! Irish Mollie shall be mine 
 to-night!" 
 
 These were the words that ran through the man's mind, but they 
 were not spoken, and for an hour or more he waltzed to the sprightly 
 strains of the violin, and made himself agreeable, as a thorough gambler 
 always can, to the working girls in whose honor the dance was given. 
 
 All the time, however, he was on the watch, preparing to act when 
 the time should come for quick movements and energetic measures. 
 
 Irish Mollie seemed greatly pleased with the attentions of the hand- 
 some young man. She did not know that he was a gambler; and even 
 if she had, that fact would have little weight, for she was but an ignor-
 
 ant working girl, unused to the ways or the world, and with no seated 
 prejudices of any kind. She was honest and true herself, and from lack 
 of experience, perhaps, believed others to be equally so. George Trussell 
 was a man whom a trusting girl, like Mollie, could not well dislike, but 
 would, on the contrary, be very apt to please. Noble and manly in 
 appearance, with smooth tongue and fluent speech, and very graceful in 
 his movements, he was a dangerous youth to be thrust among unlettered 
 and untutored girls, if he was really bad. He had seen Irish Mollie be- 
 fore, while at her work, but had never spoken to her nntil that night; 
 and that each of them was greatly pleased with the other, could be seen 
 even by those most stupid of comprehension. They had been together 
 nearly the entire evening, and had engaged only in ordinary conversa- 
 tion: but there was a hidden something an unseen and unexplainable 
 bond of sympathy that drew them together and kept them there, as 
 securely and inseparably as though they had been fastened together like 
 convicts on a chain gang. They spoke no words more endearing than 
 could be properly said in a ball room yet they felt that they knew 
 each other as well as though they had been born under the same roof, 
 and had eaten ever after at the same table. 
 
 Time passes quickly when happiness rules the hour, and the dial 
 pointed to 1 o'clock before George and Mollie dreamed it was so late. 
 Up to that time he had not left her side, and even then the idea of 
 parting from her for a single moment was farthest from his mind; but 
 a friend called him to another part of the room, and, politely excusing 
 himself, Irish Mollie found herself without a companion. 
 
 But she was not unobserved. A pair of sinister, steel-gray eyes had 
 followed her for more than an hour, and the mind of that bad gambling 
 man had perfected a scheme he was certain would enable him to ac- 
 complish his wicked aim. He could rely with perfect confidence on his 
 three male confederates for assistance, and a fourth, a chambermaid in 
 the hotel, had been secured through the potent agency of a crisp bank 
 f bill. 
 
 As soon as Mollie had been left by the infatuated and handsome 
 j Chicago gambler, she was approached by this girl. 
 
 "Mollie," she said, feigning faintness from the effects of the heat 
 of the overcrowded room, "let's go out a minute or two and get a breath 
 of fresh air. It's not cold, and a walk of half a block will revive both 
 of us. Why, this room is like a heated oven, and I shall faint if I can't 
 get out of it long enough to draw a good long breath !" 
 
 Mollie did not particularly feel the overpowering heat described by 
 the other girl, but she was not one to refuse to do a kindness, and con- 
 sented without offering a word of remonstrance.
 
 i! E 
 

 
 10 
 
 The beautiful queen of the ball suspected nothing. An impure 
 thought had never found a place in her mind; in fact, she was as inno- 
 cent and spotless in character as she was perfect in mold and matchless 
 in beauty. 
 
 The girls walked leisurely along, conversing on the pleasures of the 
 evening. About fifty feet from the hotel doors stood four men, but 
 Mollie did not look at them or seem to notice them. Had she done so, 
 perhaps, untutored as she was in the world's ways, she would have read 
 the warning signal of danger, and avoided the first peril that had ever 
 fallen in her path! 
 
 When directly in front of them, the men stepped forward, and in 
 another moment Mollie felt the strong arm of a man around her waist, 
 while her companion fled from the spot with all possible speed ! 
 
 "To the hack!" shouted in a hoarse voice the man who had seized 
 her; "quick, boys! hustle her in before she squeals!" 
 
 Throwing up her plump white arms, with her hair streaming wildly 
 in the night wind), the beautiful Irish girl, with horror in her face and 
 terror in her voice, shrieked. 
 
 "HELP!" 
 
 Twice the cry of alarm was repeated, but no help came, and in 
 another instant poor Irish Mollie was a prisoner in a close carriage, in 
 the arms of A MAN! and the rumbling of the carriage wheels, as they 
 fairly bounded over the cobble pavement, told her that her weak voice 
 would be but a faint whisper when the big thunder roar, and that she 
 was a lost, a doomed, A KUINED GIRL! 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 Among the many who attended the social entertainment given to 
 the "help" of the Matteson House, alluded to in the preceding chapter 
 of our romance, was a young man who boarded at the hotel, but who 
 seemed to hold himself aloof from all intercourse, except such as com- 
 mon politeness forced upon him, with either man or woman. He was a 
 youth who would attract attention anywhere. Though not what would 
 be termed handsome, he was far from plain looking; and there was 
 something about him his earnest look, his honest face, his manly 
 appearance that made a favorable impression upon thoise he met, 
 without any effort of his own. He seemed to be a stranger to all ; but 
 on occasions of that kind even total strangers were accorded a freedom 
 that would not usually be given them, and hence the person spoken of
 
 11 
 
 found himself frequently annoyed by familiarities that he could not re- 
 buff, though he did not relish. 
 
 His name was James Parker, and he had but recently arrived in 
 Chicago from the East to accept a positionof trust in a prominent mer- 
 cantile house. 
 
 Ordinarily, he would have joined right merrily in the evening's en- 
 tertainment, for, though not a "fast" man, he was always jovial and 
 good-natured, and never so happy as when assisting to make others so. 
 But a shadow had that day crossed the pathway ot his life, and his 
 thoughts were too grave, too sober, too solemn to permit a levity that 
 would have brightened his brow at any other time. What was that 
 shadow? He was in love! In love with a girl he had never seen be- 
 fore, and had not yet spoken to! The great beauty of Irish Mollie had 
 penetrated to his soul, and made him mad with love's ravishing passion ! 
 Insane and foolish that love might be, but he had not the power to re- 
 sist; and as the hours sped by, his aim seemed to be to hover near her, 
 to be where he could catch the sound of her soft, sweet voice, and to 
 gaze upon the beauty that made his heart beat wild and furious. Oh, 
 if he could only speak to her! There were scores of other bright beauties 
 in the room, who had almost asked him to favor them with hk att^n- 
 tion, but Irish Mollie would not even look at him; and her okisHng 
 face, as she recognized and accepted the blandishments of George 
 Trussell, told James Parker that the dashing sporting man had warmed 
 the heart of the Irish girl, and that the fire already kindled would re- 
 quire but little encouragement to fan it into a mighty and unquench- 
 able flame ! That encouragement, he could see, was not lacking. The 
 gambler was bringing into play every art at his command, and was sure 
 to win ! He was towing with an innocent girl's affections, with a cer- 
 tainty that the prize would be all his own whenever he might ask. He 
 had only to win her love, and then ! 
 
 But, to do George Trussell justice, he intended no harm to the 
 young beauty upon whom his smiles were showered. He. too, loved 
 her. He had met with many women in his day; he had flattered them, 
 coaxed them, pleaded for their favors, but, as for love, it had, up to that 
 memorable night, been a stranger in his breast. The passion that had 
 slept so many years had, however, been fully aroused, and for the first 
 time in his life felt the terrible power of a yearning, burning, irresistible 
 love for woman! Had any man told him, then, that he was playing the 
 part of libertine and seducer, he would have resented the insult with 
 manly indignation, for he meant nothing of the kind. Yet he was 
 treading upon dangerous ground for love and lust, deny it who may, 
 go hand in hand; they are the fruit of the same womb^ twin apples from
 
 12 
 
 the same tree! Ah! George Trussell, little did you think, as in Irish 
 Mollie's earnest and honest eyes you saw reflected your own image, that 
 they were the beautiful but baleful stars that would lead you to your 
 destiny! 
 
 James Parker saw that he was distanced in the race, and that he 
 might as well withdraw, and make no effort to win; "but he was not a 
 man to give up without a struggle he would wait and watch, and hide 
 his love as best he could; and if the opportunity should come, he would 
 show that lovely little waiter-girl that she had one true friend ! 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 George Trussell's engagement, att the time he left Irish Mollie in 
 the ball-room, was but momentary, and he quickly returned, eager to re- 
 join the companion whose society had made him so happy. Where was 
 she? His eyes made a rapid exploration, but no Mollie could they find. 
 The beauty that he had worshipped had certainly left the hall, and he 
 was about to search ,for her in the parlors, when his ears caught the 
 sound of a shrieking voice, seeming to come from the street, and there 
 flashed across his mind the thought that it was Mollie who cried for 
 help! Like a bullet from a gun, he* shot down the broad stairway, and 
 reached the sidewalk just in time to see a carriage rolling rapidly away, 
 the driver furiously lashing his horses, and a man clinging with desper- 
 ate tenacity to the rear of the hack! 
 
 Naturally, Trussell was a brave, chivalrous man, who believed that 
 fair play was a jewel, and was always ready to fight for it, if necessary, 
 even in behalf of strangers. He could see that something wrong was 
 going on. The signal of distress that he had heard certainly came from 
 a woman. "His Mollie," as he fondly hoped to some time call her, had 
 suddenly and mysteriously disappeared. Perhaps she was in peril! The 
 very thought made his already hot blood boil, and he rushed wildly in 
 the direction the fugitives had taken. 
 
 "Carriage, sir?" shouted a hackman, who saw his haste, and drew 
 up at the next corner. 
 
 He did not answer, but sprang upon the driver's seat. 
 
 "Follow that hack!" he whispered hoarsely; u no matter where it 
 goes, keep it in sight, and for God's sake keep close to it! There's some- 
 thing crooked going on! I don't know what it is; but if any d d 
 scoundrel has dared to lay his dirty hands on any woman, against her 
 will, there's going to be a fight!"
 
 14 
 
 Perhaps, if the gambler had not suspected who that woman was, he 
 would not have been so zealous in the cause of innocence; but as it was 
 he was beside himself with excitement, and his greatest fear was that he 
 would be robbed of a chance to prove his valor with good, sturdy blows. 
 
 The chase was long and exciting. Over the Clark street bridge the 
 two carriages flew, less than a block apart, rattling past the old North 
 Market Station, leaving the few policemen there on duty to wonder 
 what it all meant, and utterly powerless to make even a weak effort to 
 solve the mystery. Block after block they thundered along, the one 
 intent of leaving the city behind as quickly as possible, the other de- 
 termined to follow in its wake, no matter where it might go. 
 
 George Trussell was laboring under torturing mental excitement; but 
 the cool night air, as it fanned his heated brow, produced a marked ef- 
 fect, and very soon he was in condition to view the situation with calm- 
 ness, and with a deliberation that made him a dangerous enemy. He 
 saw the man clinging to the rear of the flying hack, and it puzzled him. 
 Who could the man be ? Surely, he was not in league with the others, 
 for there was a vacant seat beside the driver, where he could ride with 
 comfort, instead of occupying a position of actual peril. But whether 
 friend or foe, he was there for some special purpose, that time would 
 soon reveal. The pursuing gambler was well armed; and, being a man' 
 who never knew what fear was a man who would fight a giant as 
 readily as he would a stripling he awaited with eager anxiety for the 
 meeting that was inevitable. 
 
 The New York gamblers were not long ignorant of the fact that 
 they were pursued. Had they known that but one man comprised the 
 force to be contended with, they would have laughed defiance in his 
 face, and made no effort to get out of his way. But the probabilities 
 were that a whole hack-load followed, the scoundrels trembled with fear, 
 and would have willingly given up their fair booty if by doing so they 
 could avoid meeting their unknown pursuers. It was not the fear of 
 personal danger that troubled them, for they were "game men," who 
 would rather get pounded out of shape than show the white feather; 
 but they knew that abduction was a serious crime in any shape, and 
 that, coupled with the intent of rape, it was one of those offenses that 
 required the law's most rigorous treatment, and frequently received the 
 attention of old Judge Lynch. That was what made them nervous, 
 excited, and sorrry for what they had been foolhardy enough to at- 
 tempt. 
 
 Poor Irish Mollie, from the moment she was forced into the car- 
 riage, lost all consciousness, and lay quiet and unresisting in the arms
 
 15 
 
 of the gambler who had been lured by her loveliness to commit an aw- 
 ful crime. 
 
 The old City Cemetery was reached in quick time, and here the driver 
 of the abducting party was ordered to halt. It was a lonely, deserted 
 spot, with nothing to be seen more cheerful than the weeping willows, 
 the grim tombstones, and the little mounds that marked the resting- 
 places of those whose games of life had ended with the turn of the 
 spade. Seeing that further flight was useless, they had determined to 
 make a halt, and "make a fight," if they were compelled to. As soon 
 as the hack stopped, all four jumped out, and the man behind secreted 
 himself in the shadow of a tombstone. 
 
 George Trussell bravely leaped from his seat, and confronted them. 
 They knew him in an instant, and knew that he was alone; but the 
 shades of night did not reveal to him their dark faces, madfe darker by 
 the vile conspiracy into which they had entered for a foul and hideous 
 purpose: 
 
 "Well, sir, you have given us a. good chase; now what do you 
 want?"'" 1 
 
 It was the leader of the gang who spoke, and his manner as well 
 as his words were offensive and menacing. 
 
 "I want to know what racket of the devil you're working up, and 
 who you've got in that hack!" replied Trussell, advancing, with his 
 hand on his cocked revolver. 
 
 "Stop!" ordered the dark-browed man; "you are interfering in some- 
 thing that does not concern you. I don't want any trouble, but unless 
 you make tracks away from this right quick, you'll get the worst of it 
 and don't you forget it." 
 
 "I will, will I?" cried George, drawing his revolver and firing. 
 "Take that, and carry that with you too!" 
 
 The trusty weapon spoke twice, and the New York sport threw up 
 his hands, staggered, and fell. 
 
 His companions had been taken by surprise, but they rallied in a 
 second, and rushed in a body upon their single-handed opponent. 
 
 One of them, however, never reached him. A blow from behind 
 sent him senseless to the ground, and when the two others grappled 
 with Trussell they found, to their surprise, that it was to be a square 
 fight after all TWO AGAINST TWO! 
 
 They were powerful men, all four of them; but he who struggles 
 with justice on his side has wonderful advantage, and George Trussell 
 and his unknown assistant were not long in putting to flight the two 
 strangers, who, feeling that they were getting the worst of it, took the 
 first opportunity to retreat, and disappeared by means of the friendly
 
 16 
 
 shelter offered by the thick growth of underbrush and shrubbery that 
 grew with great thrift in the old cemetery. Their hackman, who saw 
 bow the battle was going, was just in the act of whipping up his horses, 
 when, with revolver pointed ani at full cock, Trussell cried: 
 
 "Hob, 'or If net* 
 
 The driver pulled up with a jerk. 
 
 A faint moan, or groan, from Irish Mollie, fell upon the ears of her 
 lover, and in a second he had opened the door, and was pulling her Jrom 
 her hateful prison. 
 
 Then her lovely lips parted, and there escaped from them a long, 
 wild, piercing shriek of agony. 
 
 "Mollie!" cried George; "you are saved! Don't you know me? I 
 am your friend! I followed the scoundrels who got you into a trap, and 
 prevented God only knows what kind of an outrage! Speak to me. 
 Mollie, oh, speak to me!" 
 
 Slowly the eyes of the beautiful girl opened. There was a charm 
 iii the voice that fell in such pleading tones upon her glad ears. The 
 death-pale face was again tinted with a rosy flush. With all the im- 
 petuous ardor of her Irish nature, she threw her arms about his neck, 
 and in a low whisper, murmured : 
 
 "George, my George! 1 ' 
 
 And then the fair girl swooned again. 
 
 Trussell then turned to thank the mysterious stranger who had 
 been of such service to himself and Mollie. 
 
 What was his astonishment to find that the man had disappeared! 
 
 With the assistance of his hackman, George gently placed the un- 
 consious form of Irish Mollie in the carriage, and leaving the two de- 
 feated ruffians lyin~ where they fell, the horses' heads were turned, and 
 they were soon makiu good time back to the city. 
 
 That Irish beauty had escaped one great peril; but oh! how little 
 did she dream that she had fallen into another and more terrible one! 
 
 CHAPTER IV- 
 
 George Trussell had led a wild life of excitement, but he had never 
 experienced anything that could compare in novelty and surprises with 
 the adventures of that night; and when he found himself alone in the 
 hack, with the lovely Irish girl's head reclining upon his breast, a variety 
 of emotions agitated his mind. His intentions toward Irish Mollie had 
 been honorable; he had all along meant to deal square by her; but a
 
 THE GAMBLER'S TRIUMPH. 
 
 Other Ears than Their Own Listened to Every Word the Gambler Spoke.
 
 IS 
 
 gambler's conscience ia as elastic as a rubber string, and Trussell could 
 not be expected to successfully resist a "terrible temptation," such as 
 the one he was called upon to encounter. His heart beat tumultuously 
 with a wild desire; and as he pressed closer the form of the unconscious 
 girl that he had rescued from a perilous fate, his thoughts were busy in 
 marking out the events yet to be consummated on that night of strange 
 happenings and almost miraculous mysteries. 
 
 It has been said that when a woman hesitates, she is lost; and the 
 same theory when applied to a man, especially a gambler and libertine, 
 could lead to no other conclusion, without reversing the law of Nature. 
 The evil that is in us requires but little encouragement, when circum- 
 stances favor its development. Better men than George Trussell have 
 surrendered to the dictates of Passion, when the demand was made un- 
 der even less powerful influences. 
 
 "I ought to take Mollie back to the hotel," he argued in his mind; 
 "the poor girl has been fearfully frightened, and may need careful at- 
 tention to save her from the effects of her fright but shall I go 
 there?" 
 
 He hesitated; but the good that was in him readily gave way to 
 baser motives, and the driver was ordered to carry them to his private 
 room! 
 
 Irish Mollie was not long in recovering from the stupor that had 
 resulted from the great shock to her sensitive nerves. She seemed, 
 however, to feel that she was secure from all harm, for no convulsive 
 starts accompanied her return to consciousness, and she opened her eyes 
 with the same sensations that would follow a sweet dream. Though it 
 was dark, she realized that a pair of earnest, loving eyes were looking 
 down upon her, and that she was encircled by the strong arms of a man 
 for whom she felt an affection that was something new, something 
 strange, something unaccountable in her simple mind. Before, she had 
 always felt a shy aversion when approached by men; now, she could not 
 in the slightest way repel the advances of this man, in whose embrace 
 she found herself whem she avoke. The magic spell of first love was 
 upon her! 
 
 "This is you, George ?" she whispered, nestling like a dove under 
 its mothers wing. 
 
 "Yes, Mollie, it is me, and you are safe !" 
 "I know it! You would not harm me, would you, George?" 
 "Harm you! No, darling, I would sooner cut off my right arm 
 than injure one hair in this dear little head!" 
 
 And he stroked her fair brow caressingly vriU* his soft hand.
 
 For more than a minute Irish Mollie gave herself up to silence and 
 to dreamy unspeakable bliss. 
 
 "Are we not almost home ?" she at length inquired, partially arising, 
 and making a feeble effort to look out of the hack window into the 
 darkness that enveloped the sleeping city. 
 
 "We shall soon be there," was the reply and the gambler, in his 
 turn, was silent. He wanted time to think what next to say; time to 
 invent some plausible excuse for not taking Mollie to the place she 
 called "home;" time to conjure up some scheme that would enable him. 
 to secure her consent to the plan that he had already resolved upon! 
 
 The hack rolled over the bridge, and the time had come when he 
 must act and speak. 
 
 "Darling," he said, boldly, "we cannot go to the hotel to-night!" 
 
 The girl raised herself up quickly. 
 
 "I do not understand you, George," she replied, with just a trifling 
 tremor in her voice. 
 
 "Do not be frightened again, my dear," he returned, soothingly; 
 "it is late, very late. The dance is over. The hotel is closed. Every- 
 body there supposes you to be in bed. Should you go there now^ what 
 would they think? I would not for the world have even a breath of 
 suspicion rest upon you! Trust me! I am your true, loyal, loving 
 friend! I would not for all this world do anything that could possibly 
 injure your good name ! Go with me to-night ! Give yourself up to my 
 charge! Let me be your protector and your friend! Witt you trust me?' 1 
 
 There was a short pause. 
 
 Placing her hand in his, and laying her head again upon his bosom, 
 the fair girl softly murmured : 
 
 "I WILL! V 
 
 The carriage halted. 
 
 "Here at last!" exclaimed George Trussell, with delight in both 
 speech and manner. 
 
 He assisted her to alight; and as they entered a Clark street hall- 
 way a shadow darkened the threshold. Looking up quickly, Trusssli 
 started as though a bullet had been shot into his brain! 
 
 There, calm, stern, almost ghost-like, stood, like a statue, the 
 stranger who had so mysteriously disappeared at the cemetery !
 
 20 
 CHAPTER V- 
 
 James Parker, fascinated by the beauty of the Irish waiter girl, 
 followed her and her treacherous companion, as they left the gay circle 
 at the Matteson House, for a breath of outside air. He did not intend 
 to be rude, and had not the slightest idea of attempting to make their 
 acquaintance; but he would be near the girl who had charmed his heart, 
 and that at least would be a secret satisfaction. He saw them as they 
 slowly walked along Randolph street, and heard Mollie's shrill call for 
 help. But he was not quick enough to save her. The frightened girl 
 had been forced into the carriage, and the horses were on the jump be- 
 fore he reached the scene of the struggle. He could not be of immediate 
 service, but he was a man of quick impulses, and, bracing himself for a 
 mighty effort, he sprang upon the rear of the retreating carriage, and 
 managed to remain there during the drive to the cemetery. His 
 mysterious presence, and the aid he rendered the girl who had been 
 trapped so cleverly and carried away so successfully, have been narrated 
 in a previous chapter. No sooner had the baffled villains disappeared 
 than he, too, stepped out of sight. He did not want to be thanked by 
 his more favored rival. He did not want to be even known. He ad- 
 mired George Trussell's bravery, but had no confidence in his honor, 
 and a pang shot through his heart when he thought that the stirring 
 events he had witnessed and taken part in were but paving the way to 
 the beautiful girl's ruin! He returned to the city the same way that he 
 had left it, having merely changed carriages, and his second mysterious 
 appearance can therefore be easily explained to the reader. Though the 
 conversation between George and Mollie had been carried on in low 
 tones, his quick ear had heard it all, and the startling conviction settled 
 upon his mind that before sunrise the unfortunate girl was doomed to 
 a fate darker than would have been hers had the bold New Yorkers met 
 with no stumbling-block in their villainous scheme of abduction. 
 
 What could he do ? He had no reason to interfere. Irish Mollie 
 was going willingly, trustingly to her doom. That she loved the gay 
 gambler, he knew; that she would be ruined and betrayed, he believed; 
 and yet he was powerless to save her from this second and more fearful 
 peril! 
 
 He saw them alight; he saw that Trussell recognized him; he saw 
 the gambler start; but he remained as silent as one of those ghostly 
 tombstones in the old cemetery, and as they slowly ascended the stair- 
 way, and he heard a door open and close, and an iron bolt clicked in its 
 fastenings, his breast heaved with a great sigh, that sounded like the 
 sob of an aching heart!
 
 21 
 
 "Lost! Lost! Lost!" he murmured; "Oh, God! the poor girl has 
 only escaped from one great danger to fall willingly into another, and 
 I, who would die for her, am left powerless, utterly and completely 
 powerless to protect and shield her! She has been snatched from the 
 reeking jaws of the fierce and furious tiger, to be charmed by the irre- 
 sistible spell of the seductive serpent ! Poor girl ! poor girl ! You will 
 waken from your next sleep to look upon a stain that an ocean of tears 
 can never wipe away! You are ruined, Irish Mollie, you are ruined! 
 But when the dark days come, when he whom you now love and trust 
 has deserted and cast you off; when the lips that now kiss your sweet 
 mouth shall hurl curses at you ; when your soul is sick with horror and 
 your eyes are red and swollen with weeping, then 7 will be your friend! 
 Then Jim Parker will stand up for you like a true man, and claim a 
 place in your wrecked and bruised affections ! He will watch you from 
 clay to day, from week to week, from month to month, from year to 
 year! He will be near you when your sun of life shines brightest, and 
 will be nearer when clouds and shadows and darkness make your path- 
 way gloomy! I love you, Irish Mollie, I love you madly! I love you in 
 your innocence, and I will love you though the scarlet robe of shame 
 shall cover you ! You may be lost to me, now, Mollie, but as sure as 
 you and I both live, the day will come when you will be mine all 
 
 mine ! 
 
 And he walked sadly away. 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 When George Trussell turned the key and found himself locked in 
 the same room with an innocent young girl a girl who owed him a 
 great debt of gratitude, and who had no idea that a danger more terrible 
 than that from which she had escaped confronted her he had fully de- 
 termined that her ruin should be accomplished before morning, but had 
 not marked out in his mind the course to be pursued in bringing to a 
 successful termination his villainous scheme. He knew, as well as he 
 knew that he was alive, that no serious difficulty lay in his path. If the 
 victim of his lust had not been so pure, so innocent and so trusting, 
 there might have been a grave doubt in the gambler's mind; but her 
 ignorance of the world and its dark ways gave him perfect assurance 
 that with his smooth tongue, and his perfect knowledge of the seducer's 
 art, she would be in his hands like putty, that could be molded at will. 
 He knew that he was doing wrong, and his conscience rebelled; but the
 
 22 
 
 baser instincts of his nature prevailed against the good; Pity was stran- 
 gled by Design; and the fate of the poor working girl was sealed from 
 the moment that her lips had uttered the fatal word's, "/ will trust 
 youT 
 
 Mollie was the first to speak. 
 
 "Oh!" she exclaimed, when the gas had been turned on^ "what a 
 beautiful room! You must be a very rich man! 1 ' And her eyes wan- 
 dered admiringly from one article of furniture to another. 
 
 The room was, indeed, furnished with regal splendor. Everything 
 was there that money could buy. 
 
 Trussell caressingly stroked her fair brow with his soft hand. 
 
 "The room is good enough for me," he replied, "and I am only too 
 glad that I have such a safe and comfortable retreat for a poor, 
 frightened, dear little friend like yourself!" 
 
 The girl did not resist the embrace that followed this cordial wel- 
 come to the luxurious home of her lover. The spell of enchantment 
 was upon her. She hardly knew whether she was really awake, or in a 
 dream. But this sensation soon passed away, and Irish Mollie com- 
 menced to run over in her mind the peculiar position in which she was 
 placed. Never before in her life had she been locked up in a room with 
 a man! At any other time, or under any other circumstances, she would 
 have been frightened and screamed an alarm, as she had done once be- 
 fore that night; but George Trussell's magnetic powers had so complete- 
 ly fastened themselves upon her that the idea of harm overtaking her 
 had not entered her mind. 
 
 The gambler conducted her to a sofa, and they sat down, side by 
 side, one of his arms encircling her waist, and one hand clasped in both 
 of hers. 
 
 "Oh, this will be real nice!" gleefully exclaimed Mollie; we can sit 
 here until morning, and have a good long talk, and then I can go orer 
 to the hotel and go to work, and nobody will know that I haven't been 
 to bed, the same as the rest of the girls !" 
 
 If. Trussell's thoughts had been coined in words he would have 
 said: 
 
 "Irish Mollie, you shall never work more! You are to beautiful! 
 To soil those little hands toiling, as do common girls, shall never again 
 be done while I live! Your next sleep, and every one that follows it, 
 shall be in these arms! I love you, sweet angel, and to-night you shall 
 be mine /" 
 
 But he was very careful not to say this. To have done so would 
 have torn off the mask of villainy, and exibited him in his true colors. 
 
 "Oh, yes, we will have a nice time!" This was his reply, and he
 
 23 
 
 meant every word of it meant more than the little Irish girl was cap- 
 able of understanding meant that a nice girl was to be sacrificed on the 
 altar of Lust ! 
 
 For an hour they sat there, conversing in low tones, on such tri- 
 fling matters as happened to enter the girl's head. Trussell, who was 
 playing a part, always answered her questions in the way he thought 
 would please her best. He was worming his way into her confidence; 
 he was leading her astray without her knowing it; he was creeping 
 slowly toward the point that his cruel heart yearned to reach! And she, 
 poor thing! sat there and chatted merrily, and submitted to his coy 
 caresses, little thinking that she was on the brink of an awful gulf, in 
 whose black depths she would surely perish! 
 
 Trussell, sure of his prey, was not impatient to seize it. He enjoyed 
 that hour's talk, probably, better than any other that in his life he had 
 ever experienced. He was infatuated with her great beauty, and to be 
 with her, to fold her in his arms, to press his lips to hers, was in itself 
 ecstacy! His darker and baser designs he could well afford to leave for a 
 time in the background. He was willing to make haste slowly. But 
 all the time he was insinuating himself further and further into her 
 confidence, making bolder advances than he would have dared at first. 
 His kisses were hotter, his embraces were closer, and his declarations of 
 love more ardent. 
 
 "Mollie," he inquired, "do you really believe that I truly love you?" 
 
 "Why !" exclaimed the girl, with a start, "of course I believe it! 
 Didn't you tell me so?" 
 
 "And do you love me?" 
 
 "I love you better than any one else in the world!" 
 
 The girl nestled, closer to his bosom, and looked trustingly up into 
 his eyes. 
 
 "What would you do for me, Mollie?" 
 
 "I would die for you, George!" 
 
 "Darling! I would rather cut out my heart than see you die! But 
 there is something you can do for me that would give joy to both our 
 hearts! Will you do it?" 
 
 "I will do anything for you, dear George !" 
 
 "Are you sure of that?" 
 
 "As sure as that I am alive this minute. Tell me what it is you 
 want, and see how quickly I will do your bidding." 
 
 "Mollie," he exclaimed, with a wild, passionate embrace, "J want 
 your 
 
 Irish Mollie, quicker than thougnt, pushed him away, and sprang 
 to her feet with a scared look.
 
 24 
 
 "George!" she said, reproachfully, "oh George! what do you mean?" 
 
 "Do not be frightened, dear Mollie, " he replied, "for I meant no 
 harm. I mean that I love you ! I mean that you must be mine, to-night, 
 to-morrow night, the next, and forever mine alone all mine /" 
 
 "I do not quite understand you," she responded; but doubt and fear 
 had disappeared, and again she was at his side. 
 
 "I want you for my ivife, Mollie/' 
 
 "Oh, George, if you only knew how happy those words make me! 
 I had almost commenced to fear that that that eh, dear, I don't 
 know what I did think!" 
 
 Another embrace, more fervent than any of the others, followed 
 Mollie's words. Trussell was advancing rapidly. 
 
 "Mollie," he said, "you are now my promised wife, and of course I 
 cannot consent to have you go back to the hotel again !" 
 
 "Not go back to the hotel? Why, I must go my clothes are all 
 t-here." 
 
 "Clothes? Do you think I'll let you wear those common duds any 
 more? This very day it is now morning, you know you shall have 
 silks, satins, laces, furs, diamonds ! You shall have as good as any lady 
 in Chicago!" 
 
 Mollie's eyes were wide open with astonishment. 
 
 "But where can I stay," she said, blushing scarlet, "until until 
 we are married ?" 
 
 "Can't you stay here?" 
 
 "Then where would you go?" 
 
 "There is room enough for both of us!" 
 
 The girl shook her head. 
 
 "I could not consent to do that," she said, still ignorant of his 
 meaning, "because it would not look well. People would talk about it." 
 
 "What people? Nobody knows you; nobody would knew you are 
 here." 
 
 "But it would not be right, George, /would knowpt; and, George, 
 God would know it, too !" 
 
 The gambler turned pale. He, too, had been born in the Catholic 
 faith, and perhaps the memory of a dear mother's teachings flashed for 
 an instant across his mind. But if such a blessed sunbeam did light up 
 the darkness of sin that had been there many years, it was but momen- 
 tary; the clouds quickly drove away the rays, and George Trussell, again 
 possessed of the devil, returned to the attack upon a weak girl's virtue. 
 
 "I will talk plain to you, Mollie," he said, in soft, earnest accents. 
 "Marriage is but a mere form a simple ceremony, that can be perform- 
 ed at one time just as well as at another. Better love without marriage
 
 OABBIB WATSON, 
 One ol Irish Mollle's Favorite Associates.
 
 16 
 
 than marriage without love ! We can 'marry ourselves, and God in heaven 
 will seal the nuptials with His blessing and His love ! He will hold ua to 
 the contract closer than can the customs and the laws of man ! In His 
 sight, after we have plighted our troth, and pledged each to the other 
 eternal love, we are already married ! I am ready to make that t>ledge 
 are you ?" 
 
 "The man's imploring eyes, his earnest voice, his pleading expression, 
 as well as his eloquent words, went straight to the poor girl's heart. She 
 believed that he was in solemn earnest. She did not think that was 
 possible for any human being to invoke the aid of High Heaven in ac- 
 complishing an act of villainy. All the diamonds, all the silks, all the 
 treasures that he could have piled before her, as the price of her virtue, 
 would have been spurned with scorn, and she would have spit in his face 
 for offering them ; but he had made his plea with high and holy, and 
 what she believed to be noble arguments, and she hesitated! 
 
 Trussell knew that he nad gained his cause ! It was not altogether 
 acting on his part. He did love the little beauty, and this love glowed 
 with a fiercer fire when he found that, deep-seated in her heart, there 
 dwelt absolute virtue and perfect purity. Drawing her close to his 
 throbbing bosom, he whispered 
 
 "Mollie! DearMollie! Will you be my wife to-night?" 
 
 "Oh, let me think, George, please let me think !" 
 
 "Think, darling," he replied, passionately, "but think only of my 
 great love!" 
 
 "If I only knew that it was right, George, I would with a cry of 
 joy, fall into your open arms and say, 'take me my darling ! I am yours, 
 now and forever! 1 Way over across the deep sea, on the dear old Green 
 Isle where I was born, I have a mother, George! When I wafls a little 
 child, almost as far back as I can remember, that mother taught me to 
 pray! She taught me, as I grew up, to know right from wrong; and 
 when, only a few months ago, I kissed her farewell, she invoked God's 
 blessing on my head, and prayed that I would never forget the teachings 
 of my childhood! l Mollie, darling,' she said, 'when you are far away 
 from your old mother, in far-off America, and hour of temptation may 
 come, perils may surround you, and dark days may hover over and around 
 you ! Never listen to the voice of the tempter, as you value your moth- 
 er's blessing and as you fear her curse!' Oh, George Trussell, could you 
 be that tempter? Could you lure me to an act which would not be right, 
 and that would call down on my poor head the curses of the mother that 
 brought me into the world?" 
 
 The child-woman's face was livid; there were tears in her eyes; in
 
 27 
 
 all her life she nad never been so thoroughly excited by the thoughts 
 that rushed wildly through her brain. 
 
 Trussell never hesitated a moment. 
 
 "I too, had a mother once," he said, impulsively, "but she has laid 
 many, many years in her grave! The daisies have blossomed and drooped 
 many times since I saw her dear face. Before she died, she gave me a 
 little Bible, as a sacred keepsake by which to remember her. That Bible 
 is now in this room. Let us kneel together before it now ! Let us kiss 
 its dear lids, and swear to forever love and cherish each other, to live 
 only for each other, and to be, from this hour, henceforth and forever, 
 MAN AND WIFE!" 
 
 "But this must not be the only ceremony, George ? The Priest must 
 also unite us?" 
 
 "Yes, as soon as you can be suitably prepared for the happy event." 
 
 "And you will swear to that, also, on your mothers last gift?" 
 
 "I will, I will!" 
 
 "George," cried Mollie, "I believe you, I love you, I will trust you! 
 We will take the oath. I AM YOUBS, ALL YOURS!" 
 
 In the solemn stillness of the winter's night, with no one looking 
 at them save the All-Seeing Eye, George Trussell and Mary Grossgrove* 
 were made one. Kneeling 1 together in the presence of the Maker, with 
 His word before them, they took the oath of fealty, and declared them- 
 selves one flesh. On her part, she firmly believed that she was doing 
 right, and that the ceremony in the Church, that her lover had agreed 
 to, was but a mere formality. On his part well, let us charitably be- 
 lieve that he intended to fulfill every pledge he made. 
 
 After the oath had been taken, George Trussell saluted Mollie with 
 a kiss. 
 
 "You are MY WIFE now," was his exultant greeting. 
 
 "And you MY HUSBAND," she returned, with the light of a great love 
 in her blue and truthful eyes. 
 
 Opening a door leading to another room, George Trussell threw up 
 his arms, Mollie buried her head in his bosom, and he carried her to 
 what she firmly believed to be her bridal couch. 
 
 The gambler and libertine had triumphed. 
 
 IRISH MOLLIE WAS LOST ! 
 
 *The right name of "Irish Mollie".
 
 28 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Jim Parker, though he did not expect to see her, watched eagerly 
 for the appearance at the hotel of Irish Mollie on the morning after the 
 exciting adventures in which he had participated. He knew in his heart 
 that she would never come there again. He knew, as well as though his 
 own eyes had witnessed everything that had taken place, that Irish 
 Mollie was a ruined girl. He knew that she had taken the step that, 
 once made, can never be retraced. He knew, too, that she had been de- 
 ceived, and there was a lurking hope in his bosom that, when the charm 
 of TrusseH's presence should be broken, a feeling of revulsion would find 
 a place in her heart, and she would turn upon the gambler with that 
 indignation and loathing that the great crime against her merited. It 
 was a strange sensation that he experienced that morning. He was in 
 love with a girl he had never spoken to in his life, and who was even- 
 then, he had not the slightest doubt, pressed close to another man's 
 breast! What would be the outcome, he did not know; but he had firmly 
 concluded in his mind that he would form the acquaintance of the peer- 
 less little beauty, that he would be her friend at all times, and that he 
 would persevere patiently and heroically until his devotion should finally 
 be rewarded. 
 
 He waited in vain. He heard the clock strike nine and ten and 
 eleven, and then strolled out, not entirely aimlessly, but with no settled 
 purpose in view. Naturally, his footsteps led him in the direction of the 
 place where he had last seen the object of his thoughts. Halting on the 
 west side of Clark street, directly opposite the hallway where Trussell 
 and Mollie had disappeared, he raised his eyes, and involuntarily started 
 back, while a great pain shot through his heart; for there, looking down 
 into his face, stood the beautiful Irish Mollie beautiful still, but pure 
 no more ! The stain of sin was on her then, and it never could be wiped 
 out ! This was the dagger that seemed to sink into his bosom as though 
 it were literally cold steel, and not "a dagger of the mind." Trussell 
 also was there, and the eyes of the two men met, with a stare that neither 
 of them ever forgot; it was so earnest, so intense, so suggestive of trouble 
 to come. 
 
 "Mollie," said Trussell, "do you know that maa ? Is he a friend of 
 yours?" 
 
 U I have seen him at the hotel, George, but I never spoke to him, and 
 he does not know me y except perhaps by sight," was Mollie's answer. 
 
 The gambler did not volunteer any information concerning the 
 events of the night before, and the strange interest manifested by the 
 mysterious man in behalf c" the waiter girl; but he was well aware that
 
 29 
 
 he was not -without a rival, and, he feared, a dangerous one. He had 
 given up all idea of marriage, relying upon his wonderful powers of per- 
 suasion to put the poor girl off from time to time, until the matter would 
 die out, and never again be spoken of or thought about. He had no idea 
 then of being untrue to her, but marriage well, it was an inconveni- 
 ence that he did not care to encumber himself with. Why should he 
 marry? Had he not already secured a husband's place in her affections, 
 and had he not already received the great gift that none but a husband 
 should receive ? His ideas of morality were loose. He had won a girl, 
 and to "keep 1 ' her was, in his way of thinking, all that could reasonably 
 be expected of him. The oath that he had taken, and that was regarded 
 by the ignorant girl as sacred, had already nearly faded out of his mem- 
 ory- 
 Reminding Mollie of the presents he had promised her, he kissed 
 'her good bye, and descended to the street. Trussell was not disappointed 
 when, at the foot of the stairway, he met the stranger. He felt that a 
 meeting was unavoidable, and did not shrink from it, for George Trus- 
 sell was as brave a man as ever lived, and was always ready to meet 
 friend or foe, and settle his disputes in a manly way. He was a gambler, 
 a libertine, and a bad man in many ways, but he was not a coward. Ad- 
 vancing without hesitation, he confronted Jim Parker. 
 
 "We seem to meet under somewhat strange circumstances," he said, 
 by way of introducing himself, and continued: "If these encounters are 
 really accidental, it is indeed wonderful; and if otherwise, we may as 
 well understand each other now as at any time. For your timely as- 
 sistance at a critical time last night, I feel in honor bound to thank you; 
 but I don't like to be watched, to be dogged about the streets by any- 
 body, and I now ask you, plainly and frankly, why you take so much 
 interest in my affairs, and watch so closely my movements. You will 
 find me a square man. I talk to you now bluntly and honestly, the 
 same as I would like to have anybody talk to me. I want to like you; I 
 want to be j r our friend, and will be if you will let me. But we must 
 have no mystery we must understand each other thoroughly, at the 
 start!" 
 
 What could Parker say? Trussell had never wronged him, and the 
 affairs of that night were really none of his business ; but he well knew 
 that the gambler had taken advantage of Irish Mollie's innocence to se- 
 duce her, and this knowledge stirred up all the indignation that was 
 in him. 
 
 "I will tell you candidly, George Trussell," he said with a hard, 
 cold, stern look out of his honest eyes, "that you and I can never be 
 friends."
 
 30 
 
 "Then we may as well be enemies!" 
 
 Trussell glared at the man in a half savage way. He was nettled, 
 and wished to let the other know it, without any evasion or equivo- 
 cation. 
 
 "Very well, sir," replied Parker, hotly, "let it be understood, from 
 this out, that you and I are as cordial and sincere enemies as were ever 
 men before! You are a scoundrel, and the day will come when Jim Par- 
 ker will call you to the front and exact from you a terrible settlement." 
 
 The man turned upon his heel and walked away without giving 
 Trussell an opportunity to reply. He did not care to engage in a street 
 encounter just then, as he knew must be the case if the controversy of 
 words was kept up. 
 
 Trussell looked after him wonderingly, and for the life of him he 
 could not understand why a stranger should feel toward him that way; 
 but he was not disturbed by fears of serious results, and proceeded on 
 the errand that he had started out to accomplish. 
 
 When Jim Parker reached the corner of Randolph street he stopped. 
 His mind was almost paralyzed. He did not know what to do. For 
 more than a minute be stood there, hesitating whether to go forward or 
 retrace his steps. Then his thoughts seemed to settle down; he became 
 calmer, and if his lips had uttered what his heart dictated, this is what 
 he would have said: "Irish Mollie cannot be held morally responsible 
 for what she has done. She has hardly arrived at years of discretion. I 
 ought to have interfered in her behalf last night. Then I could have 
 saved her. This man Trussell has accomplished his unmanly, cowardly, 
 cruel purpose, and I have no doubt that not very many days hence, he 
 will be glad of an opportunity to cast her off. Then oh ! then she shall 
 be mine mine to protect, mine to cherish, mine to love! Let George 
 Trussell ever give me that right, let me ever stand in the position that 
 he does now, and God help the man who shall attempt to step across my 
 path! I will wait as patiently as I can. I will avoid Trussell, because 
 otherwise I might murder him. But I will never be far from the lovely 
 girl he has ruined and will surely betray. The little Irish waiter girl 
 will never be far from a friend who will stick to her with all the power 
 that his manhood can command! 
 
 In joy or pain, on sea or shore, 
 I'll love you, Mollie, evermore! 
 
 It may only require days or weeks, and it may be months and years be- 
 fore my hopes are realized, but as sure as there is a God it will come, it 
 will come, and I can wait, I can wait !" 
 
 He little thought how soon the hour would approach in which his 
 friendship and his courage would be put to the test!
 
 /? 31 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Two weeks from the night on which our Romance commences, 
 Irish Mollie sat in a cushioned chair, in the room were she was, as she 
 at the time believed, married. Trussell had more than fulfilled his pro- 
 mise to clothe her in silks. She wore the most brilliant diamonds, and 
 the most fashionable and costly garments. Nothing was lacking that 
 would make her wonderful beauty more enchanting. She was, PS she 
 sat there, toying with a trinket that George had given her, as perfect a 
 specimen of womanhood as ever the admiring eyes of man rested upon. 
 So thought George Trussell, who was half reclining on a sofa, dividing 
 his attention between the evening paper in his hand and the companion 
 he had so recently sworn to make his wedded wife. The gambler thought 
 he perceived a shadow on her face. 
 
 "Has anything gone wrong with you to-day?" he inquired, in the 
 soft accents he knew so well how to use. 
 
 "Nothing, George," she replied, going to his side and caressingly 
 throwing around him her arms, "but for all that, I do not feel as happy 
 as I shall feel very soon." 
 
 "If there is anything that I can do that will bring joy to your 
 heart, tell me, and it shall be done. Do you want money, Mollie?" 
 
 "Oh, no, my darling; I have more money this minute than I ever 
 had before in my life. But happiness cannot be bought, no more than 
 can grief be dispelled with a price." 
 
 Trussell kissed her. 
 
 "Tell me what it is, then," he said, "that drives the sunshine from 
 the fair brow of my little angel wife." 
 
 "You will not be offended? 17 
 
 "I can never be offended at anything that you may say to me, be- 
 cause I know that there is only love and goodness in your heart, dear 
 Mollie!" 
 
 "It is two weeks to-day, George, since I first met you." 
 
 "And they have been the happiest two weeks of my life," he added, 
 enthusiastically. 
 
 "And I, too, have been very, very happy," she continued; "indeed, I 
 never knew before what perfect happiness was." 
 
 Mollie hesitated, seeming to be at a loss for words with which to 
 express her thoughts. A second of silence, sometimes, seems a long 
 time. Trussell, who had no idea as to what was coming, waited for an 
 explanation. She finally resumed: 
 
 "George, my dear and only love," she said, earnestly, "/ have been 
 to confession t*-dayl"
 
 The man started as though he bad been stabbed, and turned pale. 
 
 "I hope you did not mention this matter between you and I?" lie 
 said, breathlessly awaiting an answer. 
 
 "Why, how could I help it?" she inquired, wonderingly. "You 
 know that we are required to lay bare our hearts, and that I would be a 
 sin of sins to wickedly withhold anything that we have done." 
 
 "I did not think you would do such a thing without consulting me 
 first," said the gambler, with just a little of reproach in his voice; "but 
 now that you have done it, tell me all what did the Father say to you?" 
 
 "He told me that / was not a wife /" 
 
 Trussell's agitation was so great that he could not conceal it. 
 
 "Well, what else ?" he asked nervously. 
 
 "He explaned to me that t had done wrong, but that, as I did not 
 know it, the sin was not so great as it would have been had I knowingly 
 erred." 
 
 With a great effort, George Trussell shook of the spell that un- 
 nerved him, and braced himself up for the unpleasant interview that he 
 knew could not be avoided. Thinking that, possibly, Mollie would pur- 
 sue the subject no further, he pressed his lips to hers in a tender kiss 
 and said soothingly: 
 
 "Never mind, my dear, everything will be all right very soon. I 
 am sorry that this has ocurred, but I do not blame you, and we will say 
 no more about it. Would you like to go to the theatre this evening, 
 dear?" 
 
 "But, George, I have something more to say to you something 
 very important very serious, too." 
 
 "Oh, never mind; some other time will do as well. Let's goto lunch 
 now." 
 
 "Some other time will not do," replied the girl firmly, "and it will 
 not take me a minute to tell it, for it is only this you and I must be 
 married to-night!" 
 
 "Why this haste, dear?" said Trussell, persuasively, "we have been 
 living together two weeks already, and another week or two wouldn't 
 make any difference, would it?" 
 
 "Oh, yes! The Father told me that if, after knowing I was doing 
 wrong, I continued our intimacy, I would be no more nor less than a 
 prostitute ! He said that I must bring you to him this very night, that 
 he miglit marry us and bless us! Shall we go now, George?" 
 
 "Not quite yet, Mollie! To tell you the truth, I cannot go to-mgnt, 
 but I will in a few days, and then all can be forgiven, and we will be 
 none the worse for the delay."
 
 34 
 
 9' 
 
 "No, no, no!" she exclaimed, bursting into tears, "tnere must be no 
 delay! You must marry me to-day! 1 ' 
 
 "Supposing I should say that I will not do it?" 
 
 Trussell spoke harsher than he had ever done to her before. 
 
 "Oh, George! you cannot, you dare not say that!" 
 
 "Oh, yes, I could do so easily; and as to daring, why, I dare do 
 anything!" 
 
 "Dare you break a poor girl's heart? Dare you throw her onto the 
 world with the mark of shame that you have put there ? Dare you break 
 that oath?" 
 
 Irish Mollie stood erect as she said this, the color mounted to her 
 Tery temples, and her eyes gleamed with a fire that had been strangers 
 to them before. 
 
 Trussell was losing his temper. He had made up his mind that he 
 would not marry the girl he had seduced, and there was no argument 
 strong enough to make him change that resolution. 
 
 "I do not care to have a scene just now," he said, coldly, "and to 
 avoid one I am going out. If you will go with me, your society woultf 
 be very pleasant, if you choose to make it so." 
 
 t At that instant there came to Irish Mollie a revelation. Her love^ 
 stood before her like a transparency. She could look clear down into 
 his heart. She could see that she had been decoyed to ruin and shame. 
 She knew that the man who had sworn a solemn oath to be her hus- 
 band, had done so with the intention of breaking it. She knew that, if 
 she continued to live with him, it would be as mistress but never as 
 wife! 
 
 "George Trussell," she exclaimed, passionately, "you have lied to 
 me! You have deceived me! You have brought upon me shame! You 
 have ruined my body and murdered my soul ! You have made me a wan- 
 ton! I ought to fall down on my knees and curse you! I ought to take 
 you by the throat and strangle you to death ! But I will not, for I love 
 you! Oh, George, I love you better than honor, good name, religion or 
 life! You have seduced me, and I forgive you! You have debauched me, 
 and I bless you ! George ! take me, press me to your heart, and keep me 
 there forever do you hear, George, my George forever! If you will not 
 let me be your wife, I will be Irish Mollie, THE GAMBLER'S MISTRESS!" 
 
 She fell into TrusselFs outstretched arms, but quickly started back 
 in alarm ; for there, not three feet away, with arms folded, looking at 
 them calmly with eyes of steel, stood Jim Parker.
 
 S5 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 George Trussell was never so astonished in his life as he was when, 
 turning quickly, he saw confronting them an intruder and an intruder 
 whom, of all others, he wished to avoid. A thousand thoughts rushed 
 through his mind in a second's time. Prominent among these was the 
 fact that Jim Parker had heard the impassioned declaration of Irish 
 Mollie that she would willingly become the gambler's mistress. 
 
 "Sir," he said, with anger in voice and look, "how came you here, 
 and what do you want?" 
 
 "How I came here is a matter of no importance; why I came you 
 shall soon know!" 
 
 "I ought to throw you out o the window for your impudence," 
 Trussell replied, "but I will wait and see what you have to say first. 
 And say it quickly, too, for I am in no humor for needless talk now!' 
 
 "Do you remember, George Trussell, what took place the last time 
 you and I met?" 
 
 "I believe I have an indistinct recollection of meeting you." was the 
 cold reply. 
 
 "And what did I tell you?" 
 
 "I really don't recollect, and certainly don't care !" 
 
 "Perhaps you will care, though, and for your information I will 
 tell you what I said. I told you that you was a scoundrel, and that the 
 day would come when Jim Parker would call you to the front and exact 
 a terrible settlement!" 
 
 "And I suppose I am left to infer that you have come here now to 
 settle?" 
 
 Trussell's terrible temper was fast getting control of his senses, his 
 face was livid, and he trembled with excitement. 
 
 Irish Mollie, during all this time, stood back like one in a trance, 
 hearing all that was said, but powerless to stir or speak. 
 
 "George Trussell," said Parker, calmly, with great self-control, "I 
 did not come here to quarrel. If you will listen, I would like to tell you 
 a little story. After that, you can act at your pleasure as to any further 
 intercourse between you and I." 
 
 "Go on with your story, but make it short," replied the gambler, 
 with almost a sneer, and a trifle of sarcasm in his voice. 
 
 "I will make it as short as I can, and I beg you to listen with all 
 calmness, and as attentively as you may. Not many months ago, many 
 thousand miles from here, there lived an aged man and woman, surroun- 
 ded by a family of children. Their home, it is true, was but a rude hut, 
 and Poverty and Want were its most frequent guests. But they were
 
 26 
 
 honest people, who rallied their virtue as above price, who labored hard 
 for the scant necessities of life, and whose brightest hope was the gleam 
 of sunshine that came to them from the far, far West the land that 
 they had been told was the home of the free, where there were no oppres- 
 sors 1 heel-prints, and where honest industry was sure to meet with just 
 reward. One of the children of this couple that fortune had so frowned 
 upon, was a young girl. She was fair, and it was their pride, as they 
 caressingly stroked her smooth brow and wound her silken hair about 
 their fingers, to call her their little Rosebud. She was very, very dear 
 to them ; and when, one day, an opportunity came for this loved darling 
 to sail for the land they all hoped some time to reach, though it almost 
 broke their hearts they gave her a last kiss, a last fond embrace, and bid 
 her God speed on the journey that was to decide her destiny for life, and 
 perhaps for eternity ! She was an ignorant little girl, but as innocent as 
 she was ignorant, as pure as she was beautiful. Time wore on ; the 
 great ocean was crossed, and soon thereafter half a continent was tra- 
 versed. It was in the winter time. The untutored and unlettered child 
 sought and readily obtained employment, and sent back to her old home 
 the cheering news that she would be soon able to aid those who were so 
 dear to her. That was then the main object of her existence; and when, 
 after the labor of the day was over, and she had remembered in her pray- 
 ers those who were so fair away, she laid her head upon her pillow, and 
 slept the sweet and untroubled sleep of innocence, the dream-god carried 
 her with lightning speed across land and water, she saw again the dear 
 faces at home, she talked with father, mother, sister, brother, and she 
 awoke refreshed and happy. One day this little girl's eyes fell upon a 
 man whom she greatly admired. He was a man of the world, fluent of 
 speech, elegant in attire and manners, and in every way calculated to 
 win the affections of any woman. To this fresh flower he was simply 
 perfection. Fortune favored him. A great danger threatened her. He 
 was a brave man in the hour of peril; but he was a coward when, that 
 very night, with arguments that to her simple mind seemed plausible, 
 he succeded in seducing her! He took an oath, and broke it! And she, 
 poor thing! learning at last that she had been betrayed, threw herself on 
 that man's breast and declared that she would be his mistress! Another 
 man a true man had seen and loved her! Though he was entitled to 
 equal credit with his more favored rival when she was assaulted by and 
 rescued from ruffians, he put forward no claim, for he knew that his 
 love was hopeless! He listened to words that he knew were false, and 
 that came from a false heart! He knew that the being he loved would 
 coiue to ruin and shame, but he had no means of averting that calamity ! 
 Days and weeks passed, and then he confronted this man in the precence
 
 37 
 
 of the child he had debauched, determined to demand from him 
 And now, George Trussell, he appeals to you! Think of this girl's inno- 
 cence! Think of her poor old father and mother! You can save her, you 
 can save them! Be a man, George Trussell, and go with me now to a 
 place where you and Irish Mollie can be made man and wife!" 
 
 The earnest and eloquent words of Jim Parker had a wonderful ef- 
 fect upon Irish Mollie, and the allusions to her home in dear old Ireland 
 brought a flood of tears to her eyes. This, too, was the first intimation 
 that she had received that another than Trussell loved her. She looked 
 upon Parker, and could not but admire him; but as for love ah! she had 
 that only for her George ! 
 
 Trussell, also, was deeply moved, and his conscience smote him; but 
 this feeling was only momentary. He turned like a tiger upon his ac- 
 cuser, and for a moment the two men one convulsed with terrible ex- 
 citement and the other calm as a summer morning stood face to face! 
 
 Irish Mollie, young and inexperienced as she was in the world and 
 its ways, was quick to perceive that there was danger when two deter- 
 mined men met under such strange circumstances. She knew that the 
 words uttered by Jim Parker were true, and for his efforts in her behalf 
 she felt grateful. Had there been no George Trussell, a warmer feeling 
 than gratitude might have stirred her heart; but she had surrendered her 
 all to the gambler she had linked her fate, for better or worse, with his, 
 and there was no escape. With genuine Irish impulse she jumped be- 
 tween the two men, because she believed that the next argument would 
 be one of blows. Throwing her arms around TrusselFs neck, she turn- 
 ed to Parker and exclaimed, pleadingly: 
 
 "For the love of heaven, sir, please go away! For all that you have 
 done for me I thank you but if you remain here, to cause trouble that 
 could do no one good, I shall hate you to your dying day! Go, now, for 
 your own and for my sake!" 
 
 Jim Parker, had he been made of iron, could not have maintained 
 more perfect composure. Contrary to what most men would have done, 
 he submitted to the plea of the girl he loved, but before he turned, in 
 passionless voice he said: 
 
 "For yoar sake, and for the sake of your respect and regard, I will 
 go ! But I will see you again ! I will see you often ! I will watch you ! 
 I will be your friend!" 
 
 Trussell did not attempt to stop him and thus the two men parted. 
 
 To give the details of the life of Irish Mollie for the few years that 
 followed would be a monotonous story. She soon became a wom^a of 
 the town, frequently quarreling with Trussell, and receiving from him, 
 on occasions, blows as cruel as they were cowardly. Her life was such
 
 as is experienced by the unfortunates of all cities, and but for more ex- 
 citing events that followed, the story of Irish Mollie would now be near- 
 ly complete. As it is, the real romance in the life of this beautiful 
 woman is yet to be told. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 On Monroe street, not a stone's throw from the present site of a 
 great dry goods emporium, there stood in the summer of 1864 a neat 
 two-story-and-basement brick dwelling. The exterior, to a passer, would 
 not indicate anything strange or peculiar about the house or its inmates. 
 Everything was modest, and there seemed to have been a studied effort 
 to make the appearance of the establishment entirely respectable. There 
 were no flaming red window curtains (peculiar to disreputable houses 
 in those day,) no glaring figures over the transom of the door. On the 
 silver plate was the only indication of a suspicious nature. Cut in plain 
 letters were the words, 
 
 "MISS LOU HARPER. " 
 
 To those who are familiar with the criminal history cf Chicago as 
 far back as that date, the fact need not be stated that the house describ- 
 ed was what was then considered a magnificent palace of sin. It and 
 one kept on Buffalo street (now Fourth avenue) by a woman named 
 Delia Waterman, were the two most notable resorts for the vicious in 
 the Garden City. There were many others, it is true, but these were the 
 fashionable dens. One of them, though much reduced in status, still 
 stands ; the other fell a victim to the devouring fiend on that Red Mon- 
 day of October, 1871. 
 
 It was in the walls of this house that the scene to which this chap- 
 ter of our story is devoted was enacted. 
 
 The second story of the house was divided into bed rooms, some 
 large and airy, and others with more limited quarters. The front room 
 was usually occupied by Harper and a gambler named Ben. Burnish ; but 
 on this occasion two entirely different personages were its inmates. 
 
 Reclining languishingly upon a tet-a-tete, attired in costly, flashy, 
 tasty apparel, was a young and beautiful woman. Tall, queenly, majes- 
 tic, without a single defect to mar tne symmetry of her figure, with 
 heavy, silken brown hair flowing in tresses over faultless shoulders, with 
 eyes neither blue nor gray, but rather hazel in their hue, with a neat, 
 small foot encased in worked slippers and silk hose, with bare arms, as 
 fair and plump and white as the eyes of man ever rested upon, Mollie
 
 39 * 
 
 Trusseli was indeed beautiful. No woman in Chicago, in high life or 
 low, could compare with her, when, in the parlor or on the street, she 
 chose to display her loveliness of features and perfection of form. 
 
 The years that had passed over Irish Mollie's head since she first 
 met the man whose name she had taken, had developed even greater 
 loveliness than was hers at the time of the opening of our romance, and 
 she was universally regarded as the most beautiful woman in the Wes- 
 tern country. She had lived with Trusseli, as his "woman," ever since 
 that fateful night, the events of which have already been recorded in 
 this true tale. He had treated her kindly at times, humoring her whims, 
 lavishing upon her freely the money he had won at the gaming table, 
 and endeavoring in every way he could to make the handsome girl happy; 
 but there were times when, flushed with liquor, sometimes from the in- 
 fluence of "hard luck" at cards, he was morose, irritable, ugly and 
 then Irish Mollie did not escape abuse and frequently blows at his 
 hands. 
 
 At the corner window, facing Monroe street, in an easy chair, with 
 a cigar in his mouth, and with one hand stroking a thin chin whisker, 
 while with the other he toyed with the ermine tassel of the rich curtain, 
 sat George Trusseli, the celebrated sporting man. He was looking list- 
 lessly in the direction of the dreary old gas house, but his mind was not 
 there. He was absorbed in deep thought. 
 
 "George !" said Mollie, awakening from her apparent stupor, and 
 arousing from what seemed to be an indifferent feeling of something 
 akin to ennui. 
 
 "Well," was the response, and the gambler turned his keen eyes full 
 upon his mistress, with an inquiring look. 
 
 "I have something to say to you, George something serious some- 
 thing that has been on my mind for a long time!" 
 
 There was a faintly perceptible frown upon Trussell's usually com- 
 placent face as he said: 
 
 "Well, unbosom yourself; say anything and everything that you 
 may wish! You and I may as well come to an understanding now as at 
 any time/' 
 
 His tone was not menacing, but cold and harsh, and there was a 
 cruel, mocking glitter in his clear blue eyes. 
 
 The flushed face of Irish Mollie with the quickness of thought as- 
 sumed an ashen pallor, but with an effort she subdued the angry words 
 that were struggling for utterance, and she calmly spoke: 
 
 "George, can you remember as far back as eight years?" 
 
 The gambler started, but the only words he uttered were 
 
 "Yes, lean! 1 '
 
 40 
 
 "I am glad you have not forgotten," returned the woman, with 
 forced composure. "Perhaps, then, you can recall to mind what occur- 
 red between you and I at your room on the night of that ball at the 
 Matteson house?" 
 
 "Mollie! for God's sake, I hope you are not going to rehearse that 
 old, old story of yours!" 
 
 "George Trussell!" the woman spoke with a sharp, shrill voice 
 "I am going to speak to you of what you choose to term that old, old 
 story! It was not old then, George! 0, no! The poor little Irish 
 waiter girl, whose fair face then caught your eyes, was fresh! She was 
 innocent! She was as pure then as she is impure to-day! Her young 
 heart knew no guile, her feet had not turned from the paths of virtue ! 
 She was ignorant; she was friendless; she was a waif, with no mother to 
 direct her thoughts, no father or brother to avenge her wrongs! With 
 your fine words, your lavish attentions, your magnificent presents, you 
 won the little waiter's first and only love. You seduced her! But that 
 deed was not accomplished without a promise-raw oath made upon 
 your dead mother's Bible, and registered now in Heaven ! Do you re- 
 member what that oath was?" 
 
 There was a grandeur in that woman's every look as .she arose and 
 confronted the abashed gambler, her eyes burning like coals of fire, and 
 her voice quivering with the excitement that the eftort had produced. 
 
 "Really, Mollie, you are getting excited without a cause. Come, 
 now, be a good-natured girl, and don't look so savage. Let me order a 
 bottle of wine now, and let us make up ov.er the sparkling bowl that 
 cheers." 
 
 Trussell made a movement toward the door, with the intention of 
 calling for the che&ring beverage. 
 
 "Stop!" cried the woman, with a commanding gesture of the arm, 
 "Wine accursed wine has no power to quiet the fire that burns here!" 
 and she wildly, almost frantically, clasped her jeweled hands over her 
 left breast. 
 
 Trussell making no answer, she continued: 
 
 "You well remember the promise that you made. You said that 
 you would marry me. You SWOKE I should be your lawful wife! Dur- 
 ing all these years I have waited, vainly waited for you to redeem your 
 pledge. I suffered the pains that none but a wife should suffer. I have 
 borne you a child, George Trussell a bright, beautiful boy. He is now 
 only a few miles from here, and, oh, God, can I, his mother, say it he is 
 A BASTARD!" 
 
 The gambler groaned, but the agony was only momentary. Livid 
 with rage, white with passion, with his clenched fist he struck the wo-
 
 42 
 
 man a powerful blow in the face, and she reeled, tottered, and fell her 
 full length upon the carpet, as the enraged man slammed the door and 
 rushed into the street! 
 
 The fair cheek of the woman was crimsoned with blood, a dark cir- 
 cle gathered about her eyes. Slowly she arose, glanced at her face in a 
 large mirror, and, looking more like a fiend than the acknowledged 
 beauty of Chicago, she muttered between her teeth: 
 
 "J love that man, BUT i WILL HAVE A TERRIBLE REVENGE! He shall 
 strike Irish Mollie down but once more /" 
 
 Turning from the mirror that reflected a picture of hate, she stag- 
 gered back with surprise, and a crimson flush shot like lightning to her 
 cheeks. Another instant, and she was closely clasped to the heaving 
 bosom of a man! 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 A strange sensation made the bosom of Irish Mollie throb wildly 
 and fiercely when, having been cursed and struck to the floor by the 
 man she loved, she found herself folded in the arms of another! She 
 sobbed like a grief-stricken child, and for a brief space the two who had 
 met under such peculiar and painful circumstances remained silent 
 the one smarting from the effects of a cruel blow and the remembrance 
 of a great wrong, the other moved to pity by the tears that rained upon 
 his breast, and goaded to anger by the assault of the cowardly ruffian, 
 who years before had won the love of the sweet little Irish girl that he 
 then held in his strong arms. 
 
 After the violent exhibition of feeling had passed, Jim Parker 
 spoke. 
 
 "Mollie," he said, "my dear girl, I would to God I had been here 
 one minute sooner! 1 ' 
 
 "And I thank heaven that you were not," she replied, with a pow- 
 erful effort to control her emotion. 
 
 "Why not? Why is it that you would spurn the protection of a 
 true friend, when assaulted and bruised as you were just now by " 
 
 "Stop ! I will not listen to one word against him I George Trus- 
 sell and*l have been all that man and woman can be to each other! He 
 has loved me, he does love me! And I? Why, I worship him! Were 
 it not for him, and the hope of a happier day to come, the lake or the 
 dark river would before another hour has passed closed o^er me- and hid** 
 the shame that is upon me!"
 
 43 
 
 Jim Parker's lips quivered, and a sigh that came from the bottom 
 of his heart told that he was suffering a pang greater than any bodily 
 affliction could produce. Then he spoke: 
 
 "Mollie! there is another who loves you with an affection deeper 
 and truer than any gambler is capable of feeling! There is one who 
 would sooner tear out his* arm at the socket than strike you, and who 
 would pull out his tongue, roots and all, before he would curse you! 
 There is one who loves you at morning, at noon and at night! His de- 
 votion is as true and lasting as any ever felt by man for woman! He 
 loved you before you fell into the toils of a libertine ! Week after week, 
 month after month, year after year he has watched you with a jealous 
 eye and aching heart, and with the full knowledge of your shame he 
 loves you still! Nothing on earth can wipe out that love! He will fol- 
 low you to the ends of the world! He will cling to you wherever you 
 may be, whether in palace or hovel, silks or rags! Mollie! that man 
 stands before you now! Spurn him, curse him, drive him from you if 
 you will, but when he goes he leaves his heart behind!" 
 
 Mollie Trussell did not spurn him, nor drive him away. But she 
 released herself from his embrace, and appeared wonderfully calm for one 
 who had so recently been controlled by a passion that was maniacal in 
 its fury. 
 
 "Be seated, my good friend," she said, "and I will try and talk to 
 you as a sister would talk to a dear brother." 
 
 Jim Parker mechanically obeyed, and Mollie, taking his hand in 
 hers, sat at his side on the sofa. 
 
 "There are times in people's lives," she said, "when all the world 
 looks blacker than the darkest night, and life seems a burden too heavy 
 to bear. When you came here, so short a time ago, you found me des- 
 perate, reckless, in the midst of a great trouble. At that moment I was 
 capable of committing murder, had any weapon that would kill been 
 within my grasp. Thank God there was none, and now you see how 
 calm I am! That you love me, I know; that you have loved me long, I 
 have felt in my heart and oh, I wish you could know how sorry I am 
 for it! Though a bad woman, I am a true one. To love you in return 
 would be impossible. I shall always feel for you kindly, and wish you 
 that happiness that may never be mine; but further than that you must 
 not ask, you cannot hope! The destiny of Irish Mollie, as they call 
 me, is fixed. I am a child of misfortune, and what my fate may be I 
 dare not think. The future is a blank, and I cannot read it. It may 
 be full of sunshine, and it may be a never-ending shadow ! If you love 
 me, as you say, go away from me now, and leave me to joy or to misery, 
 whichever it may be! Do not speak and make me more unhappy than
 
 44 
 
 I am, but go, and forget that you erer met the girl who would love you 
 if she could, but who could not if she would!" 
 
 Mollie avoided the look of pain that she knew was upon his face, as 
 she motioned him away. 
 
 "Give me one kiss before I go," he pleaded with faltering voice. 
 
 "No, no, no! Irish Mollie sells kisses to strangers, but she can give 
 them but to one!" 
 
 Jim Parker said no more. Cut to the heart, he left the room as 
 suddenly as he had entered it ! 
 
 Once more a crimson flood rushed to the fair but disfigured face, 
 and Irish Mollie was convulsed with the terrible thoughts that preyed 
 upon her mind ! Once more she was almost a maniac ! 
 
 CHAPTER XIL 
 
 Irish Mollie was confined to her room tor several days with the to- 
 ken of affection which she had received at the hand of her passionate 
 lover. As is almost invariably the case among those who live as they 
 did, the violent outburst was not succeeded by lengthened estrange- 
 ment. Abuse her as he might, and sometimes did, George Trussell 
 loved that woman. In his life of adventure he had met and associated 
 on terms of intimacy with hundreds of women, but not one of then* 
 had ever made other than a temporary impression on his heart. But he 
 could not banish Mollie. Her smile was the one that charmed his soul, 
 her caress was the sweet enjoyment by the side of which all others fad- 
 ed. Whenever they quarreled, the whole nature of the man was chang- 
 ed. He could not sleep, he could not enjoy the society of his friends. 
 He was nervous, ill-tempered, irritable and uncompanionable; and at 
 such times it was his invariable custom to drink deep and incessantly, 
 and in that manner attempt to drown recollection, and destroy the 
 burning thoughts that haunted his disturbed mind. 
 
 The great imperishable love of the desperate gambler was recipro- 
 cated to an extent seldom manifested on the part of woman. Had peril 
 threatened her lover, Irish Mollie would have laid down her life to save 
 him. Her whole soul was wrapped up in him, and not even brutality 
 and blows could drive away such fervent love. 
 
 When anger had subsided, tears and remorse followed. For hours 
 she vrould lay upon her bed, and, unmindful of the aching, bandaged 
 head, forgetful of the bruised and bloodshot eyes, weep and mourn, and 
 sob, and call pitifully and frantically for her George her darling.
 
 45 
 
 Sometimes the separation would be for a week, sometimes a month. 
 
 About two months subsequent to the altercation recorded in a pre- 
 vious chapter, George and Mollie were seated in the same room. The 
 old beauty had all returned, and not a scar remained to tell the .tale of 
 trouble. Upon her face there was a, gentle, winning, loving smile, and 
 the gambler, as he gazed with admiration and love upon the peerless 
 woman, was the happiest man in the 'universe. 
 
 Both had forgotten and forgiven all. 
 
 "Darling," said George, placing one arm around her slender waist 
 and drawing her closer to his side, "I am going away." 
 
 The woman turned a shade paler, and her eyes sought his with 
 something like alarm in their expression. 
 
 "Going?" she inquired falteringly, "where are you going, George?" 
 
 "To Buffalo/ 1 he replied; "the races take place there next week, and 
 I can't afford to remain away. I expect to make a big stake, and when 
 I come back I shall be owner of the fastest .horse that ever trod the 
 turf the great Dexter! If money can purchase him he shall be mine!" 
 
 "Can't I go too, George?" said Mollie, while unwilling tears were 
 fast gathering in her eyes. 
 
 "My dear," was the prompt reply, "nothing in the world would 
 give me greater pleasure than to have my own beautiful Mollie near me 
 all the time. But on this trip I shall be so entirely engaged in business 
 that you would be sadly neglected, and could not enjoy yourself as 'I 
 should like to have you. At the race course in the day time and at 
 the faro bank at night, I shall have my hands and head full, and let us 
 hope, when it is over, I shall have my pockets full also." 
 
 Mollie saw that there was reason in what he said, and did not ex- 
 press a further wish to go. 
 
 But something troubled her mind. George, too, was indulging in 
 deep thought. 
 
 They sat thus for a few moments, when Mollie broke the silence: 
 
 "George!" 
 
 His only reply was with an inquiring inflection: 
 
 "Mollie darling?" 
 
 "Before you go, George, will you take AN OATH?" 
 
 "1 will do anything to please you, Mollie.'' 
 
 "I will ask for nothing that I am not willing to return. Let us 
 take an oath of jealty, one to the other!" 
 
 "It is the very request that I would have made to you! Where 
 shaD Ave take it, and hoiv?" 
 
 "Here," she said, taking from a drawer in her dressing table a small 
 Bible; "let us take it on this?"
 
 "I am ready," were the gambler's next words. 
 
 In the perfect stillness of that room, out of the reach of scenes of 
 revelry below,the gambler and his mistress knelt upon the carpet, clasp- 
 ed hands over that little Bible, aaid took this terrible oath: 
 
 "We two, George and Mollie Trussell, call on the great God above 
 to witness that, now, henceforth and forever, we will be true to each 
 other! Kneeling here, with the Holy Bible in our hands, we swear 
 never to be false to this our vow! We will be to each other as MAN" and 
 WIFE, and may whichever proves false to this oath be paralyzed on the 
 instant, and never receive forgiveness for a single earthly sin. So HELP 
 us GOD!" 
 
 They kissed the Bible, arose, embraced, and, gambler and prostitute 
 though they were, wept like children. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 When George and Mollie Trussell took the solemn oath of fealty, 
 in one of the upper parlors of Lou Harper's house of infamy, both of 
 them were in earnest, and both pledged secretly in their hearts, as they 
 had done in words, that the oath should be kept. There was a strange, 
 almost unaccountable bond of union between these two beings. That 
 they loved each other truly and devotedly, there is no doubt. Then 
 why ; the reader will ask, did they not marry ? The question can be an- 
 swered in but one way. George Trussell was not a man of refinement, 
 or of c4ture. He was a coarse, vulgar man of the world a gambler 
 who ha<! not, as some gamblers have, the refined and delicate sensibilities 
 that prevail in good society. Mollie Trussell, though she looked like a 
 queen, was in fact but a simple, unlettered Irish girl. She could neith- 
 er read nor write, and graduated from the dining-room of a hotel to a 
 brothel. With such coarse, vulgar natures, the necessity of a marrige 
 did not present itself with such force as it would under more civilizing 
 circumstances. When they traveled, it was as man and wife; at home, 
 among those who knew them, it was the gambler and his woman. And 
 yet they loved! 
 
 Trussell, as he had contemplated, departed for the races at Buffalo, 
 after having kissed Mollie an affectionate good-by. 
 
 "Remember your promise your oath George, dear," was Mollie's 
 parting salutation. 
 
 "And remember that you do not forget," was the half-playful, half- 
 serious reply.
 
 47 
 
 He had promised to be back in a week. The telegraph had brought 
 news daily of the exciting contests on the turf, and not one in this 
 great city listened to the reading of the particulars with more intense 
 earnestness than did Irish Mollie. The last day's race was recorded, and 
 then the news came over the wires that George Trussell had purchased 
 a half interest in the great Dexter the king of the turf and the mar- 
 vel of the age. 
 
 Two weeks had passed, and Mollie, with a female companion, Ida 
 Preston by name, was sitting in the lower parlor. 
 
 "It is strange, 1 ' said Mollie, "that he does not come back as he 
 promised, or that he does not even write. I have not had a single line 
 from him since he went away." 
 
 "Have you inquired at the postoffice ?" suggested Ida, the compan- 
 ion of the dejected fair one. 
 
 "Every day regularly, until to-day, and a short time ago I sent a 
 messenger to inquire for me." 
 
 At that moment the door opened, and a young African, grinning at 
 iiis success, held out a daintily-enveloped missive, directed, "Miss Mollie 
 Trussell." 
 
 "Thank God!" exclaimed Mollie, as she seized the letter, "he has 
 not forgotten me! Here is news from George at last! Oh, read it for 
 me, Ida read it quick! I am dying to hear every word this precious 
 sheet contains!" And she nervously tore off the envelope, and handed 
 the letter to her companion. 
 
 "But oh, how short it is!" she continued, with a grieved tone and 
 look; "he certainly ought to find time to send his Mollie a little longer 
 letter than that! Why, a tailor's dun. could hardly be so brief!" 
 
 While Mollie had been talking Ida had glanced over the letter, and 
 had read the signature. 
 
 "This is not from George, Mollie," she said. 
 
 "Not from George I Not from my darling? Why, Ida, who is it 
 from, then?" 
 
 "It is merely signed 'A Friend,' and no name is at the bottom." 
 
 A shadow of disappointment passed over the face of the beautiful 
 courtesan, and with a tremulous voice she said ; "Read it! Read it!" 
 
 Ida Preston then read as follows : 
 
 CLEVELAND, Ohio, Aug. 25, 1866. Mrs. Trussell: As a true friend, 
 I deem it my duty to inform you of facts that I am sure Avill be un- 
 pleasant, but that my conscience tells me you ought to know, because I 
 am aware of the oath of fealty between yourself and George Trussell, 
 taken on the eve of his departure for Buffalo. Mollie, I grieve to tell 
 you, George has broken his oath ! He is false to you ! A Buffalo girl
 
 48 
 
 came here with him, and they are registered at the hotel as man and 
 wife! He will leave for Chicago with his new-found loye in two or 
 three days. If you are the woman I take you to be, you will ascertain 
 for yourself whether I speak the truth. I will telegraph you the day 
 and the hour that he will reach Chicago. Yours faithfully, 
 
 A FBIBND. 
 
 It would be difficult to describe Mollie Trussell, as Ida Preston, 
 with slow and measured voice, read this cruel message. The color for- 
 sook her face, and, rigid as a marble statue, without a single tremor, she 
 gazed with glassy eyes upon the scrap of paper that conveyed intelli- 
 gence of such dreadful import. For a full minute the peerless beauty 
 stood thus; then, clutching the arm of her companion, she said in a 
 hoarse and unnatural whisper: 
 
 "Ida! Is that a hoax? Is some one trying to play on my affec- 
 tions? Do you believe what you have read?" 
 
 "I really cannot say," replied Ida. "but it is possible that such may 
 be the case." 
 
 "Possible! Is it not probable? 0, tell me you think it a lie!" 
 
 "How can I tell ? This friend, whoever he may be, tells you to 
 wait and watch, and promises to advise you of the day and hour when 
 George will arrive with his new girl. If he does this, you will have no 
 trouble in arriving at the truth/' 
 
 "I will wait I will watch /" was Mollie's response, as she fell upon 
 the sofa and gave vent to a violent outburst of sobs and tears. 
 
 Ida, who sympathized deeply with her friend, quietly left the apart- 
 ment. She was a child of misfortune herself, and knew how vain 
 would be the attempt to administer consolation in that hour of grief 
 and woe. 
 
 A week elapsed, and no further tidings had been received from the 
 unknown informant. Mollie Trussell did not want to believe, but she 
 could not suppress a doubt at her heart, an_d it may be imagined that the 
 days and nights did not afford her that pleasure that would have been 
 hers had the letter of a week before been a loving epistle from her faith- 
 ful heart's idol. Whenever the bell rang, day or night, even far in the 
 morning, she was at the top of the hall stairway, watching with eager 
 eyes for the appearance of George or, if fate would hare it that way, 
 for the dreadful dispatch that had been promised. 
 
 It came at last! 
 
 On the 3d day of September, a lad from the telegraph office rang 
 the bell of 219, and handed the. housekeeper a dispatch addressed as tkc 
 other had been.
 
 JUST BEFOEE THE TEAGEDY. 
 Mollie Trussell Preparing to Meet Her Lover on the Night of his Death.
 
 Again Ida Preston was called upon, and the faithful girl trembled 
 as she read the following: 
 
 CLEVELAND, Ohio, Sept. 3, 1866. Mottle Trussell: George will 
 reach Chicago at 3 o'clock to-morrow afternoon. His girl is with him. 
 
 A FRIEND. 
 
 The shock, though not unexpected, was none the less terrible. 
 
 "OA, my God!" These words were uttered in accents of utter 
 despair, and poor Mollie would have fallen to the floor had it not been 
 for the strong-armed housekeeper. 
 
 When she returned to consciousness, a deep sigh escaped from a 
 grief-burdened breast, but that was all. Apparently she had marked 
 out her course while in a condition of unconsciousness, and with a look 
 cf stern determination a dangerous look she proceeded to her room 
 and closed the door. 
 
 "If this is false, God forgive the author! If it is true, God have 
 mercy on George Trusselfs soul!" she said, as, without disrobing, she 
 cast herself upon the bed, hid her face in the soft pillows, and abandon- 
 ed herself to the black thoughts that madly coursed through her excited 
 brain. 
 
 In a condition of utter prostration tired nature gave away, and 
 troubled sleep came. 
 
 Her mind, however, was at work in the land of dreams. Youth and 
 innocence were restored. The mother that she loved pressed the beau- 
 tiful and pure young girl to her heart, blessed her, and chanted the 
 sweet lullabys of dear old Ireland. Then, in the miraculous transfor- 
 mations peculiar to dreams, the scene changed, and George Trussell 
 came wooing. Oh, his words were smooth, his voice was soft, his arms 
 caressed her, his lips met hers, and she was as happy and as contented 
 as only a woman can be who has truly loved and a true woman never 
 loved but once ! Then darkness came; clouds gathered; she saw her 
 lover in the arms of another, and hideous phantoms mocked her tears 
 of anguish ! He who had loved renounced her with curses, and Mol- 
 lie Trussell awoke! 
 
 It was broad daylight. The almost crazed woman looked in the large 
 aiirror, and started back in horror! Was that the beautiful Irish Mollie 
 of a month ago, or was it a fiend who had come to taunt her? The 
 change was indeed terrible. The outlines were the same, the form was 
 there, but in the face there was a lurking devil, so fiendish in his look 
 that she herself shuddered as she gazed upon the reflection that con- 
 fronted her. 
 
 'This is my day of destiny, 11 she said, as she bathed hef feverish 
 temple, and arranged as well she could her disordered garments and dis-
 
 51 
 
 heveled hair. "If Oeorge Trusseil is true to me he shall feel how loving 
 are my caresses, how fervent my kisses ! But if he is false, he shall be 
 made to feel how a scorned woman can hate, and how an Irish girl can 
 avenge her wrongs!" 
 
 At 11 o'clock, Mollie, calm and apparently at peace with all the 
 world, breakfasted with the other girls. 
 
 The meal over, she invited Ida Preston to her room. Motioning 
 the latter girl to a seat at her side, she said: 
 
 "Ida, I believe you are my friend." 
 
 "You know I am, Mollie," was the earnest reply. 
 
 "Then you must prove that friendship to-day. I shall meet George 
 at the Michigan Southern depot at 3 o'clock. If he has that girl with 
 him, Ida, I ivill kill him!" 
 
 Ida Preston turned pale as she saw how terribly in earnest was her 
 friend. 
 
 "It may be all a mistake," she said; "perhaps George is escorting 
 the wife of a friend to the city. There are a thousand circumstances 
 under which he might come with a woman, and yet be true to you. 
 You should not act rashly on mere suspicion, Mollie. Be certain first, 
 and then let the guilty suffer." 
 
 "You are right," replied Mollie, "and I thank you for your kind ad- 
 vice. I will go to the depot disguised. I will watch George as a cat 
 would watch a mouse. I will follow him wherever he may go, like a 
 shadow; and when I am sure, when I know that he is false, then Ida, 
 Mollie Trassell will act? Will you be my friend in this matter? Will 
 you go with me, and stand by me?" 
 
 "I will go with you, advise, and be true to you," was the reply of 
 the affectionate girl and the two prostitutes embraced each other with 
 a tenderness seldom witnessed within the walls of a house of evil name 
 and bad deeds. 
 
 At precisely 3 o'clock, the shrill shriek of a locomotive was heard, 
 and the passenger train from the East came thundering into the dilapi- 
 dated depot that then stood on the site of what is now the grandest 
 railroad statioji in the West. 
 
 Among the first to alight was the celebrated sporting man, George 
 Trusseil. But he paid little attention to the score of friends who had 
 assembled to greet him on his return. A young lady a girl of tender 
 years and great beauty followed him, and the gambler quickly hailed 
 a hackman. 
 
 "Drive to the Tremont House," were his orders to the driver, while 
 to the woman he remarked in low and tender accents, "let us hurry out
 
 52 
 
 <>f tliis crowd, pet, for I don't want the boys to know any tiling about 
 this!" 
 
 Two heavily veiled w r omen were within a foot of him as he said 
 this, and they both heard every word. 
 
 Mollie Trussell held a dagger in her right hand, and half raised it, 
 to strike a deadly blow, but Ida Preston seized her arm and whispered: 
 
 k 'Wuitl This is not the time, nor is it the place. Give him a 
 chance! Perhaps he can explain. He may be at the house within an 
 hour. Come, let us go home, and make ready to receive him." 
 
 "I will go home; I will wait for explanations; I will pray^that all 
 may be well but I hav^ no hope, Ida, no hope ! And I swear to you, 
 and to my God above, that George Trussell will either come back to me 
 or li/.-t nc.t't sleep will be eternal!'' 1 
 
 These fearful words were uttered in low tones, but the girl who 
 heard them shuddered at their terrible earnestness, as she walked slowly 
 back to Madame Harper's home of luxurious debauchery. 
 
 The two women were not the only ones in disguise who shadowed 
 the footsteps of the great gambler on that eventful day. A man the 
 "friend" who had sent the letter and the dispatch was within a foot 
 of Mollie and Ida, watching with quick eyes every movement of the 
 Irish Queen. Who \vas he? What was his object? We shall see. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 After herself and Ida Preston arrived at their home on Monroe street, oa 
 Hie afternoon of the 4th of .September, 1866, Mollie locked herself in her v room 
 (in the rear of the building, the entrance a little north of the head of the stair- 
 way,) and, reclining upon the outside of the bed, gave herself up to thoughts 
 like these: 
 
 "What shall I do V" she muttered, "what shall I do V" My George is false 
 tome! He has broken his oath ! That puny little girl is his pet! I heard 
 him with his smooth tongue, call her sweet names! She has not lived with 
 him for more than nine years, as I have, and she is fresh and attractive now! 
 Curse her' Curse him! Curse all who stand between Irish Mollie and the 
 man she loves I I would have been true! I would have died before I would 
 have broken my oath! But I love George Trussell, false as he is, deceitful as he 
 is! I luve hiui so well that I swear by the God who made us both that, unless 
 he returns with me to-night, he shall lie in my arms a corpse! I have the re- 
 volver George presented to me to protect myself from burglars! 1 will take it, 
 I will array myself in the best I have, and no one can wear better! I will glit- 
 ter with diamonds! 1 will show him how beautiful Irish Mollie can make 
 herself, and how comiupn in comparison is his other love! I will go out and 
 find him; I will speak to him in accents of the most tender love, wherever I 
 find him; I will tell him the heart of his Mollie is breaking! I will tell him 
 that at the Notre Dame University there is another George Trussell that I have 
 borne him; I will call up all the old and the sweet memories of the past; I will 
 kneel before him and cling to him, and beg, and pray! If all these fail; if he 
 spurns me; if, he says, 'Mollie, leave me,' I will thro'w off the mantle of love 
 and submission, and put on the garb of hate and vengeance I The weapon that
 
 53 
 
 he gave me shall send every tmllet that it contains to his false heart! I will 
 shoot him down like the dog that he is! If I cannot have him alive; if he will 
 not come to me, warm and Fender in the flesh, he shall not go to that other wo- 
 man, except as a corpse!" 
 
 With such thoughts in her mind, and with such words on her lips, the ex- 
 cited woman remained in her room for more than three hours. She then sum- 
 moned Ida Preston once more. 
 
 "Ida," she said, "where is my pistol the revolver George gave me?" 
 
 "It is in.your bureau, Mollie but surely you are not going to use it to-night ? 
 There are no burglars here to shoot at, that I can see." 
 
 "I hope there will be no occasion to use it! I pray that there will not be! 
 But I am going out, and before the clock in the Court House strikes twelve, 
 one of two things will happen George Trussell will either be herewith me, or 
 he will be in hell!" 
 
 The last word was pronounced with such stern emphasis that Ida Preston 
 trembled and turned pale, for she could understand from their earnestness 
 that they conveyed a deadly meaning. She tried to pacify Mollie, and to deter 
 her from the trip she had marked out, but no words that mortal lips could ut- 
 ter could have had that effect. The wronged Irish girl was fearfully aroused 
 she was insane with jealousy she was ready to fall down and worship the 
 idol of her heart, and forgive all, if he would only come to her, but she was 
 also prepared to redden her hands and blacken her soul with his heart's blood 
 rather than permit him to desert her for another! 
 
 "You waste your words upon me, Ida," she said. "Once to-day you have 
 saved his life! I would have killed them both this afternoon had it not been 
 for you! My mind is fully made up, now, and no power on earth can change 
 it. If he will come to me, I will forget and forgive all; if he will not, let the 
 consequences fall on his own guilty head!" 
 
 Ida turned away with a sigh, and tears gathered in her eyes, for she loved 
 Mollie as well as one erring sister can love another. 
 
 "Ida." said Mollie a minute afterwards, "I want you to write a note for 
 me to George. I want you to tell him that he has broken his oath, and that I 
 will not keep mine, but that I must see him before I break it." 
 
 Procuring paper and Ink, Ida sat down at the table in the room and wrote 
 as follows: 
 
 DEAR GEORGE You have not kept your oath, and I cannot keep mine. I 
 want to see you before I break it, and must. Come to me to-night without 
 fail. Your loving MCXLI.I i;. 
 
 "Does that suit you ?" said Ida. 
 
 "It is just what I wanted," replied Mollie, as she carefully folded the mis- 
 sive and put it in her pocket. 
 
 The enraged and desperate girl had attired herself with great care, and 
 never in her life had looked more queenly in her rare beauty. 
 
 It was then 10 o'clook at night, and a hack was driven to the door by 
 Shang Noyes, who had been summoned by Mollie. 
 
 "Shang," said Mollie, "You know George Trussell well. You would know 
 him a block away, on the darkest night. I want to see him. I must and will 
 see him to-night, wherever he may be found. \I want you to take this note, 
 and drive around town until you find him. I think you will lind him on Ran- 
 dolph street." 
 
 Shang had no idea that any serious mischief was intended, and, placing the 
 note in his pocket, led the way, followed by the woman who was destined to 
 commit an awful crime on that eventful night. 
 
 "To Randolph street!" exclaimed Mollie, with just a ripple of excitement 
 in her usually musical voice. 
 
 "To Randolph street it is," returned Shang, as the whip cracked and the 
 horses bounded in the direction which they were guided by the steady hand of 
 the driver. 
 
 ftiere vrere any number of resorts for sporting men on that thoroughfare, 
 *t the time of which we write saloons, gambling houses, shooting galleries, 
 billiard rooms and places of amusement; out none of them were so popular as 
 the famous "Tremont Livery Stable," kept by William Price, (who has sine*) 
 that time left tbte world for, we trurt, * better one Chrt bleu hie memory!)
 
 54 
 
 In this place, at 11 o'clock on the night of which we write, were gathered 
 about fifteen sporting moii. They were congregated in the saloon of Seneca 
 Wright, which, though partioned with boards from the stable, was really a 
 part of it, with a door leading to the carriage-way and anothei to the street. 
 Overhead there was another saloon, with a gambling house attached, kept by 
 Mike McDonald, in which it was supposed that Trussell had an interest. There 
 was to be a race at the Driving Park next day; and nearly all present were 
 "horse men," who had assembled to talk over the wonderful exploits of the 
 great Dexter, who was already at the race track, and to make such speculations 
 as to the race as their judgment might suggest. 
 
 George Trussell stood leaning against the counter of the bar, as Shang en- 
 tered, conversing with Geo. B. Ackerly on the topics of the hour. 
 
 "Here is a note for you, George," said Shang, as he handed him the written 
 message. 
 
 The gambler seemed to know who it was from, for his brow contracted, 
 and he put it in his pocket without reading it, and did not speak a word. 
 
 In about a minute, however, he took out the note, read it by the glaring 
 gas light, and again pocketed it, still saying nothing to Shang, who waited 
 three or four minutes, and then went out to Mollie, who still remained in the 
 hack. 
 
 "Did you give George the note ?" she inquired, eagerly. 
 
 "I gave it to him, and he read it, but said nothing," was the reply. 
 
 "Go in again, Shang. Tell him I am here, waiting for him. Tell him ta 
 come out and speak just one word to his Mollie!" 
 
 "I don't like this business," muttered the hackman, as he once more was 
 about to start for the barn, "but I'm in for it now, row or no row." 
 
 Budd Doble, the driver of Dexter, then came \ip, and inquired what the 
 trouble was. 
 
 "Will you please go in and tell George Trussell that his Mollie is here, in a 
 hack, and wants to see him ?" 
 
 "Certainly I will," replied Budd, and he accompanied Noyes to the stable, 
 and from thence to the saloon. 
 
 The errand was performed, and Trussell turned upon Dobl-e with a frown, 
 and said angrily, "Budd, this is something that don't concern you. I wish you 
 would attend to your own business!" 
 
 The great driver turned upon his heel at these words from his employer, 
 and left the saloon. 
 
 Previous to this time, those not directly interested were not aware that 
 anything unusual had been taking place. But they were not long to remain in 
 ignorance. 
 
 When Mollie found that her last message had been treated with scorn, she 
 opened the hack door with her own hand, and with an elastic spring, that be- 
 token mischief, jumped to the walk. 
 
 She did not rush wildly to the saloon, as would naturally be looked for from 
 one laboring under great excitement. She was excited, it is true; but she had 
 studied well the part she was to enact, and walked with the linn and steady 
 step of one who, having resolved upon a desperate act, proposed to accomplish 
 it with a slowness and decision that would insure a complete success. 
 
 Stepping quietly up to Trussell, who stood leaning against the ice box, and 
 who had not deigned to look at her, although he knew well she was coming, 
 Mollie said, with a slightly tremulous voice, putting her hand upon hisshoulder: 
 
 "George, come out / want to speak to you /" 
 
 George Trussell was a man who, on ordinary occasions, was as genial, 
 as sociable, and as agreeable as any man could be; but when passion took pos- 
 session of him, no human being could look or act or talk more like a fiend. 
 
 When Mpflie spoke to him in the saloon, and he felt the pressure of her 
 hand upon his arm, the color forsook his face in an instant, and, white as mar- 
 ble, and with a wicked gleam of hate and anger in his eyes, he turned upon 
 her, and raised his arm to strike. 
 
 "Don't, Georf/c, don't fttrikff" 
 
 There was more meaning in these words, than would casually strike the 
 reader. It was an appeal and a threat combined in a single sentence.
 
 55 
 
 It was as much as to say, "George, for God's sake don't strike me; but if 
 you do, God help you!" 
 
 Disregarding her appeal, George Trussell shoved the woman, struck her, 
 and, with the assistance of Seneca Wright, forced the struggling girl from the 
 saloon to the street door, and from there to the walk. Such violence was used 
 that a great portion of Mollie's clothing was torn from her person, and her 
 diamonds fell through the grating in front of the door. 
 
 Go hmne, 6f d dn you, go home !" he exclaimed, as, after having succeed- 
 ed in ejecting her, he aimed a blow at her head. 
 
 "I will send you home to hell!" she whispered hoarsely, so that none but 
 Trussell heard the words. 
 
 "Take that, traitor !" 
 
 A sharp report rang upon the midnight air. 
 
 "Bang! bang! bang!" Three more shots followed the first, and Trussell 
 threw up his hands wildly and cried out : 
 
 "/ am shot, boys, I am shot!" 
 
 They were the last words of the gambler. The first bullet had passed 
 through his heart, another had entered the abdomen, and another was received 
 in the back, lodging in the spine. Either might have proved fatal, but the 
 first was certain and instant death, and within five minutes George Trussell 
 was no more. 
 
 When Mollie saw the man Avho had brought her to shame and ignominy 
 lying senseless upon the barn floor, all her old love returned, and, falling upon 
 the prostrate body, she kissed the dumb lips, caressed him with delirious frenzy, 
 and called him by every endearing name that the tongue of woman could ut- 
 ter or the mind conceive. 
 
 "George! Darling! Speak to your Mollie! Do not die, oh, do not die! Come 
 back to me, oh, come back to your own darling Mollie !" 
 
 Hot tears rained into the face of the dead man, but he knew it not, for his 
 spirit had already taken its flight to the land of the hereafter. 
 
 Officer Asa Williams soon arrived and conveyed the murderess to the Cen- 
 tral Station, and there she passed a night of misery such as is seldom exper- 
 ienced in this world of trouble and there, for the present, we will leave her. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 No man was ever more fascinated with woman's charms than was Jim Par- 
 ker with those of Irish Mollie. It was not alone her great beauty that kin- 
 dled in his bosom a flame of love. He knew that her fall from virtue was 
 not voluntary. He knew all the circumstances that led to her enlistment in 
 the ranks of the courtesans. He knew that she would have bedn an honest 
 woman had not her girlish affections been lavished upon a sporting man a 
 man whose ideas of virtue were vague and chimerical. He knew that she had 
 been misled through the subtle promptings of a holy passion, and had been 
 blsndly led into evil paths through an influence that she had not the power to 
 resist. And knowing the purity of her heart, knowing the temptations that 
 beset her, knowing all the baneful circumstances that enveloped her in the 
 hour that she consented to relinquish her hold on purity, this man followed 
 her through all the dark labyrinths of her wayward life, in the firm faith that 
 sooner or later his faithful and overpowering love would be rewarded. Ho 
 could read the gambler's heart as one can read a poster on the wall. To him 
 it was but a breathing transparency. That George Trussell loved Mollie, in 
 his reckless way, he was aware; but he would have wagered his life that the 
 sportsman never intended to marry his mistress. He knew Trussell better than 
 Mottie did. He had watched him closely. He had witnessed scenes that were 
 positive proof of the infidelity of the great gambler to his favorite "woman." 
 He followed his rival from one part of the city to the other, and was familiar 
 vrith att his intimacies with the women of the town. He even acquired an in- 
 timate friendship with a woman in the house of Lou Harper, in order that he
 
 56 
 
 might have an opportunity to know something of the secret transactions that 
 might occur under that roof. Everything that took place was faithfully re- 
 ported; and hence it was that he followed the gambler to Buffalo and there 
 learned of the infidelity that made glad his heart! 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 The trial of Mollie Trussell, for the murder of her paramour, took place 
 on the 14th and loth days of December following the tragedy, and created great 
 excitement throughout the city and for hundreds of miles around, for "Irish 
 Mollie," the courtesan, and George Trussell, the gambler, were well known 
 among the sporting fraternity of the whole country. After the first spasm of 
 remorse", repentance, or excitement, whatever they may be called, were over, 
 Mollie devoted her entire attention to the single object of escaping from pun- 
 ishment. True, many believed she was entirely justified in taking the life of 
 the man who had ruined, betrayed and assaulted her; but a deep-seated preju- 
 dice existed against her in many quarters, for the sole reason that she was an 
 outcast. In order, if possible, to remove this, Mollie pretended to experience 
 religion, and large numbers of the best and most pious ladies in Chicago daily 
 visited her in the jail, prayed with her and for her, and exerted themselves in 
 every possible direction in her behalf, because they believed she had been 
 shamefully wronged, and was sincere in her professions of reform. The trial 
 took place in the Superior Court before Chief Justice John M. Wilson, and the 
 jury brought in a verdict of manslaughter, fixing the* punishment at imprison- 
 ment for one year in the penitentiary. As a matter of some interest we give 
 a few extracts from the opening address of the Hon. E.G. Asay, Mollie's coun- 
 sel, and then, as now, a leading lawyer of the Northwest. Mr. Asay said: 
 
 "May it please the Court and Gentlemen of the Jury : I am assured that 
 you will have little difficulty in getting at the proof and reaching the righteous 
 result a verdict for the prisoner. This woman (pointing to Mollie) when an 
 untutored girl, scarcely fifteen years old, having left her mother's home on the 
 green isle across the sea, was found by George Trussell. She was then a waiter 
 girl at a hotel a girl whose innocent, child-like beauty was acknowledged by 
 all who saw her. George Trussell marked her, but not for good. He saw her 
 as she waited upon the table, and her beauty fascinated him. He sought the 
 acquaintance of this innocent, ignorant Irish girl, and w r on her love. 
 
 "Gentlemen of the Jury, I knew George Trussell well; and as I shall one 
 day stand with him in judgment before the God that made us both, I will say 
 that there were many things about him that I liked. His smile was fascina- 
 ting, his powers wonderful. They were fatal to this unfortunate prisoner. He 
 had inveigled men and ruined women, but she knew it not. When she came 
 to Chicago, and fell under the eye of Trussell, she was an innocent Irish peas- 
 ant girl; to day she is What? 
 
 "In less than a hundred miles from here there lives the result of the un- 
 holly alliance between George Trussell and the prisoner a living George Trus- 
 sell a boy ten years of age, the legal and acknowledged heir of his dead 
 father. From the time that this boy was born, Mollie Trussell has been an 
 outcast. "True, he did not kill her; but he did worse he destroyed her virtue 
 and forever blasted her reputation I and this woman's seducer, with thorns up- 
 on his brow sharper than unknown and untold agonies is I will not say 
 where! It is enough that he made Mollie Trussell what she is! 
 
 "In life, Trussell would not give her up. She could not give him up. He 
 was all she had to cling to. A woman thus abandoned, thus thrown out of 
 society, thus banished from everything that is good and pure, clings as ivy 
 never clung to oak to the man who brought her to ruin. Mollie TrusselFs 
 only sunshine was the smile of the man who destroyed her. 
 
 "The earnings sf this woman's infamy, the price of her shame, have been 
 shared by George Trussell. Not satisfied "with the destruction of her body and 
 soul, hp has, filled his pockets with the shame-bought money of the victim of
 
 his lust. "When I think of tliis, my very soul revolts with loathing, nd the 
 thought comes irresistible, can so foul a creature be a manf 
 
 "There is nothing but unhappiness in this world for this woman and her 
 child. She will go through the world marked. She will be shunned as an 
 abandoned outcast. And this bright, innocent boy of hers, when he goes 
 among his schoolmates and his comrades, will be pointed at by them, and the 
 taunting cry will be, 'There goes the bastard son of George Trussell, the gam- 
 bler r 
 
 Mr. Asay conducted the entire case with great ability, and the verdict was 
 generally approved. 
 
 But Irish Mollie was not satisfied; and when she was conducted to her cell, 
 after the verdict had been announced, she said to a fellow prisoner: 
 
 "By G , the pious dodge must get me out out of this yet; I can't go down 
 a year, and I won't. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Were this a tale of fiction, and not a true story, the author would proba- 
 bly have made the plot more pleasant and less tragic; but the life of Irish Mol- 
 lie and the fate of George Trussell are so well known, that to deviate from the 
 truth would be an insult to the intelligence of those who read these pages. 
 
 During the three months that intervened between the killing of the gam- 
 bler and the murder trial, Mollie was provided with comfortable quarters in the 
 county jail. Though charged with murder, she was treated like a princess, and 
 provided with every luxury that heart could wish. Other prisoners could receive 
 visitors oniy on certain days and at certain haurs; but the acknowledged beau- 
 ty of Chicago was free to entertain callers at any time that she might desire. 
 The motion of her finger brought an attendant; a whisper from her lips was 
 law. She had everything but liberty and that was not altogether denied her, 
 for on many occasions, had a dark veil been lifted in a carriage that sped around 
 the town, the face of Irish Mollie would have been revealed! True, she was 
 accompanied by a bailiff,' but what mattered that? she was at liberty to call 
 on her friends, to drink, to carouse, and to do anything she wished. Many a 
 morning, when sympathetic Christian ladies called on her, and found her red- 
 eyed and bloated in the face, they supposed that she had been weeping with 
 repentant grief, when in fact she had been out on a roaring drunk and wild 
 debauch. 
 
 Probably no prisoner that ever looked from benind the bars in the Cook 
 county jail received more earnest and heartfelt sympathy than did Mollie 
 Trussell. The good ladies of the city organized an association and combined 
 to labor without ceasing in her behalf. They prayed with her and for her 
 every day, and she actually experienced religion, as they imagined, though in 
 reality she was only acting a part! Though an unlettered woman, she was 
 quick to comprehend and swiff, to commit to memory. She soon learned to 
 pray and some of her appeals to the Throne were as eloquent as any that ever 
 fell from the lips of a distressed mortal, even though they had been written 
 for her by a friend, dear arid steadfast, and committed to memory as he read 
 from the manuscript! So perfect was her acting on these occasions that great 
 tears rolled down her cheeks, accompanied by sighs and sobs so heartrending 
 that those who had doubted at first were firmly convinced that the Magdalen's 
 heart had undergone a complete change, and that she was indeed a Christian 
 woman! The writer of these lines, to whom she made no concealment of her 
 hypocrisy, heard many of her prayers, and could only be convinced of her ut- 
 ter depravity by the sly wink given for his benefit as soon as she was off her 
 knees! / 
 
 A day never passed that Jim Parker did not visit her, and many times he 
 remained with her from early in the morning until late at night. He believed 
 that she was justified in what she had done, and he knew that in a great meas- 
 ure he was responsible for the terrible tragedy. Knowing; that an oath of 
 fealty had. been exchanged between the gambler and bis mistress, and belie v-
 
 58 
 
 ing that Trussell would violate it, Jim Parker followed his rival to Buffalo, 
 dugged his steps with the pertinacity of a blood-hound, discovered the spert- 
 ingman's infidelity, and forwarded the messages that have already been record-" 
 ed. But he did not anticipate a tragedy. He wanted to wean Mollie's affec- 
 tions from George. He wanted her to see with her own eyes how false was 
 the man who professed to love her. He took no unfair advantage, told no lies, 
 concocted no seemes, but merely reported what he saw. To say that he was 
 sorry when he saw the gambler in his coffin would not be true for was not 
 the road to Mollie's heart so much the shorter ? But the first interview he had 
 with her in jail was not calculated to give him hope. Unwisely, perkaps, but 
 naturally, he sppko of his own love; but hardly were the words out of his 
 mouth when Irish Mollie checked him with a look that almost froze the blood 
 in his veins. 
 
 "Love!" she exclaimed, bitterly, "Jim Parker, if you value my friendship 
 never speak to me of love again! The only man I ever did or ever will or 
 ever could love is now in his coffin! In a mad hour, when jealousy and fremzy 
 were my masters, I killed him; but if by plunging a dagger into my own keart 
 this minute I could bring my George back to life again, I would do" it and die 
 happy I I like you, Jim; I know that you are my friend: I appreciate your kind- 
 ness; I want you for a brother; but as for Zowe, I hate the word!" 
 
 "Then I am your brother!" returned Parker, with more enthusiasm than 
 he felt; for he would not, could not abandon the wild desire, kindled years be- 
 fore, to some day hug the beautiful Irish girl to his heart and call her all his 
 own. 
 
 "Am I indeed your brother, Mollie?" he asked, after an interval of perhaps 
 a dozen seconds had elapsed. 
 
 "My own dear brother!" was the ardent, affectionate reply. 
 
 "Then I claim a brother's right!" he exclaimed, triumphantly; and before 
 Irish Mollie understood the meaning of the words, she found herself folded 
 tightly in his arms, his lips glued to hers!" 
 
 "Stop, Jim Parker, stop!" she almost screamed, as soon as site could release 
 herself from the unexpected embrace. 
 
 "Why, what's the matter?" he said, with a smile; "haven't I a right to kiss 
 my sister ?" 
 
 Mollie could not well even seem to be offended, and she smiled as she re- 
 plied: 
 
 "Oh, yes, once in a great while; but as I have found the world, brothers 
 and sisters are not so fond of kissing and hugging as you seem to be, But se- 
 riously, Jim, you must not and shall not repeat the offense you have just com- 
 mitted. If you wish to visit me, and refrain from such indulgences, you are 
 more than welcome, for 1 tell you candidly that you are the only man this side 
 of the ocean that I like and I do like you. I would like to see you every day 
 I might say every hour in the day. I look on you as my best friend. Will 
 you be good and conduct yourself as I have requested, or must I tell the turn- 
 key to refuse you admittance ?" 
 
 "Oh, do not do that! dp not, I beg you, do that! I will be very good! I 
 will admire you, I will befriend you, I will stick to you closer than a brother, I 
 will love you but I will never, no never tell you of it!" 
 
 "Then the compact is sealed!" said Mollie. 
 
 "Sealed with wnat ?" and he advanced with a questioning smile on his 
 honest face. 
 
 "With this!" she replied, clasping his right hand in hers; "you and I, from 
 this out, are dear friends I" 
 
 He in mute reply pressed her hand with a warm, hearty grip and every- 
 thing was understood between Irish Mollie, the murderess, and Jim Parker, 
 who loved her. 
 
 Three months in jail, with liberties such as she enjoyed, passed quickly; 
 the trial came; the verdict was announced; and Irish Mollie walked from the 
 court room to her parlor-cell with the determination that sweet liberty 
 should soon again be hers if a false face, false tears, and false words could ao 
 complish the resultl We shall see how well she played her part]
 
 59 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The ladies who had taken upon themselves the task of freeing Irish Mol- 
 lie from the fetters that the law had bound her with, renewed their efforts with 
 fresh vigor after she had been convicted and sentenced to a rear's imprison- 
 ment in the peniteatiary. The "penitent" prisoner, the deformed" outcast, 
 had completely won their hearts, and powerful influences were brought to bear 
 upon the Governor to secure a pardon before she left the jail to serve out her 
 term at Joliet. In this, however, they were unsuccessful. The Chief Magis- 
 trate held out with a firmness that they had not expected, and on one cold, 
 biting winter's morning, Irish Mollie, "the beautiful courtesan," as she was 
 called, was conveyed to the Jiock Island depot ia a close carriage, and put 
 aboard the train that was to carry her to a dungeon cell in the State, Prison. 
 The scene at the depot was one that Will be ever memorable to those who wit- 
 nessed it. She did not go as other prisoners do, solitary and in shackles, friend- 
 less, despised, and discarded as worthy of her doom. No princess ever em- 
 barked on excursion of pleasure with a train of more devoted friends to wish 
 her God speed, than surrounded Mollie Trussell at the railroad depot, when, 
 in charge of the Sheriff, she stepped aboard the train that was to convey her 
 to her destination. They were not the kind of sympathizers that usually cling 
 to a convicted outlaw; they were ladies as pure-minded as any that ever lived, 
 occupying the highest rank in Chicago society. They wept as bitterly as did 
 the prisoner herself, kissed her good-bye with sighs that were almost groans, 
 and waved her their sad adieus after the train had started. 
 
 During this leave-taking, Jim Parker was a silent but very far from disin- 
 terested observer. He was sorry to be compelled to see the woman he loved 
 taken away from her home and friends, to become the inmate of a convict's 
 cell; but he felt that, with such a powerful array of advocates as clung to the 
 fortunes of Mollie Trussell, her term of imprisonment would be of short du- 
 ration. When the whistle shrieked and "ail-aboard" was shouted, Parker did 
 not, like the rest, remain behind to look wistfully at the receding train. 
 Bounding upon the platform of the car that contained the fair prisoner, he 
 was quickly at her side. The Sheriff in charge, Rot fearing an attempt to es- 
 cape, considerately seated himself some distr~"e away, leaving the friends to, 
 converse in secret as long as possible. 
 
 "How long do you think you will remain in Joliet ?" inquired Parker, af- 
 ter the first greeting was over. 
 
 "I am not positive now but that I shall have to stay the whole year," she 
 replied with a serious, troubled look; "I would have sworn, two weeks ago, 
 that I would never make this trip. I was sure that the ladies who converted 
 me would get me out of the fix in some way, if begging, praying, crying, coax- 
 ing would do it, and they have promised me that they will keep on without 
 ceasing, until snccessful; but I am discouraged, and have almost reconciled 
 myself to the fate that perhaps must be mine. A year, anyway, isn't much. 
 Had it been ten, instead of one, with no hope of pardon, they would never 
 have taken me.'over the road,' for Irish Mollie would have put a bullet through 
 her own heart, rather than spend the best years of her life behind the grates of 
 a prison/' 
 
 "Had you done that," interrupted her companion, "there would have been 
 two funerals on the same day." 
 
 Irish Mollie's face flushed when she heard this. It did not please her, she 
 tried to make herself believe, but she : involuntary leaned closer to her friend, 
 for she knew as well as he did that his love was the kind that lasts through 
 thick and thin, that no sun could fade and no storm turn cold. She made no 
 reply to what he said, and after a short pause continued : 
 
 "If I am compelled to serve out my sentence, Jim, will you be there a year 
 from to-day to see me home?" 
 
 "A year from to-day! Dojyou think I shall stay away from you that time ? 
 Don't yon know that visitors are admitted at regular intervals } You may be 
 sure that I will see you as often as I can, that I will write you as often as the 
 rules permit, and that I shall not leave Joliet until you do, whether it be a day, 
 a week, a montfh or a year!"
 
 60 
 
 "You are indeed my friend, Jim," she replied in a voice that betrayed 
 emotion, "and it is only right that I should thank you with all my heart before 
 we separate by the cruel edict of the law!'' 
 
 "I shall be your friend as long as I live!" 
 
 The words were hardly out of his mouth when the train halted, and the 
 conductor shouted, "Joliet." 
 
 "This way, Miss Mollie!" commanded the sheriff. 
 
 Fifteen minutes elapsed, and Irish Mollie was duly installed as an inmate 
 of the penitentiary ! 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The beautiful prisoner found confinement in the penitentiary and in the 
 County jail two very different forms of punishment. In the one place she had 
 been visited daily and hourly by friends, and had been treated with a consider- 
 ation that only distinguished prisoners are accorded; in the other, strict dis- 
 cipline prevailed, and Irish Mollie was no exception the handsome face, the 
 faultless form, the eyes that could flash with the fire of hate or melt with the 
 sunlight of love, were powerless to secure her favors after the gates of the 
 State prison had closed upon her! She was a prisoner absolutely and uncon- 
 ditionally for the first time since she sent a bullet to the heart of her lover. 
 The rules of the prison were adhered to, and that night found her in a cell ex- 
 actly similar to those occupied by other female convicts. In that damp place, 
 alone, in the darkness, with no luxuriesanciL no one to talk with, it may be im- 
 agined that her thoughts and feelings were far from being pleasant. 
 
 "Oh, God!" she exclaimed, as a feeling of despair crept into her heart, "If 
 I only had that revolver now, how quickly would I end all this misery! A 
 year in such a place as this' A whole long year! Can I endure it ? Can I live 
 through it? Can I, who have for years enjoyed every comfort of life, look 
 only on prison scenes and prison walls day after day, night after night, for 
 twelve dreary months and not go mad? Where are my gay companions? 
 where the brilliant parlors ? where the wine ? where the merriment ? and where 
 oh! merciful God! that I should think of it now! where is my George f Oh, 
 if I could but see him again, I would wait here a hundred years, and never in 
 all that time ask to see the light of day! But I shall never, never see him any 
 more! Did I do wrong in killing him? Did he not seduce me? Did he not 
 desert me for another? Did he not scorn to look at me? Did he not strike 
 me down like the false, cruel coward that he was?" 
 
 Could the dark cell have been illuminated at that time, there would have 
 been revealed the features of a demon crouching on the hard bed. 
 
 In another instant tears started from her eyes, and she moaned: 
 
 "Oh, I loved my George! I loved my George!" 
 
 Yet, had the gambler been alive, and remained false to his oath, she would 
 have hunted him to death, much as she loved him! 
 
 Sleep finally came to her relief, and thus passed Irish Mollie's first night 
 in prison. 
 
 The nextmoroing, soon after she awoke, the matron handed her a letter, 
 and was al'kmt to depart without speaking, when she was attracted by the 
 strange conduct of the prisoner. She held the letter in her hand, without at- 
 tempting to open it, and burst into tears! 
 
 The matron knew that, Mollie had not read a line, and could not have been 
 affected by anything that the letter contained, .and the tearful demonstration 
 was, therefore, something that the good woman could not account for. 
 
 "This letter is apparently from a friend," said the matron, kindly, "and the 
 contents seem to me to be very cheering." 
 
 "I do not know what the letter contains," replied Mollie, "because because 
 because I cannot read. It is shame that makes me cry, Madame, but I was 
 only a poor ignorant Irish girl when I came to this country, und then trouble 
 came, and I have never learned to cither read or write!"
 
 62 
 
 The matron was a kind- hearted woman. 
 
 "You have certainly been unfortunate," she said; "as I have already read 
 the letter the rules make that my duty I will, if you wish, read it to you." 
 
 "Thank you! I shall be very grateful," was the earnest reply. 
 
 The matron then read: 
 
 NATIONAL HOTEL, JOLIET, Dec. 19, 1866. My Dear Friendf,: Knowing 
 how dreadful must be your feelings, how dark your thoughts, how cheerless 
 your condition, I take the first opportunity to convey to you intelligence that I 
 hope aad think will lighten the great load of grief that now lays heavily upon 
 your heart. After you were taken from me, yesterday, I saw and talked with 
 several parties from Chicago people of standing and influence. All of them 
 are positive that you will remain where you now are but a very few days. The 
 Governor cannot resist the pressure that will be brought to bear in your favor. 
 There are powerful influences at work, and there are those who declare that 
 they will never bleep until you are free, Cheer up, dear girl, be brave and 
 hopeful, for the clouds are passing away, and soon the light of liberty will 
 shine on you once more. I will see you soon ; and though all others should 
 fail, you will never lack a friend so long as this earth contains 
 
 JIM PARKER. 
 
 "A friend like that is worth having," remarked the matron, as she handed 
 Molliethe letter. 
 
 The prisoner pressed the envelope to her lips a little act that, could it 
 have been seen by the sender, would have made his heart bound with joy. 
 
 "Yes," replied Mollie, "he is a true friend, and 1 know that he will do all 
 for me that he can." 
 
 The matron then withdrew, and soon after the proper official appeared, the 
 door was opened, and the new prisoner was instructed in the duties that would 
 be required of her. 
 
 ******** 
 
 The incidents connected with the prison life of Mollie Trussell, were not 
 of a nature that requires any elaborate mention in this romance. The ladies 
 who had interested themselves in her behalf, were true to their promises, even 
 if she was not true to hers, and the Governor who could long resist their en- 
 treaties, backed as they were by monster petitions that these same good ladies 
 had procured, would be a man of almost more than human firmness. 
 
 The Executive held off for a time, but finally yielded; a pardon, attached 
 to which was the great seal of the State, was signed, and, in thirty days from 
 the hour she put on a convict's dress, Mollie Trussell was again a free wo-man. 
 She had made up her mind that BO relief would come, and had become parti- 
 ally resigned to her fate. It was a dull, monotonous life, the same one day as 
 another, and God kno'Vs dreary in its least unpleasant features: Jbut the first 
 shuddering herrar had worn off, she had been accustomed to the way of the 
 prison, and was looking forward with patience to the time whea her sentence 
 should expire. 
 
 One morning, while she was performing her usual duties, her keeper tap- 
 ped her on the shoulder. 
 
 "Mollie Trussell," lie said, "you are wanted." 
 
 "Where?" was, tier listless inquiry, supposing that work was required of 
 her in some other part of the prison. 
 
 "In the reception room," was the response, and the keeper could not help 
 but smile, for he knew that great joy was in store for her. 
 
 Even then she did not comprehend, but followed the officer in her usual 
 quiet way. 
 
 But when the door of the reception room was opened, and she saw Jim 
 Parker, his face blazing with excitement, hope sprang with a quick leap to 
 her heart! 
 
 "Mellie, you are free!" he cried, grasping both her hands. 
 
 "Thank God!" she exclaimed, and fainted in his arms.
 
 63 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 FREE! 
 
 Irish Mollie had never fainted before. But when she heard the glad words, 
 "Mollie, you are free!" joy leaped to her heart, dizziness followed, and in the 
 ecstacy of delight that followed she lost consciousness. 
 
 Recovering, the news was re-told. The prison doors were open, and she 
 was at liberty to go whenever she felt inclined. The clothing that she had 
 worn thirty days before was restored to her, and, half an hour from the time 
 the good news was carried by her faithful friend to the prison door, she was in 
 a carriage, rolling rapidly towards the central part of the city of Joliet. 
 
 "Shall we go to a hotel and remain over night ?" asked Parker, when they 
 were wheeling along. 
 
 "Remain here? Stay in this hateful city a minute longer than necessary? 
 No! I hate the place! I hate any place where the wall of such a dreary place 
 as that, (indicating the prison) can be seen to remind me of the hell from 
 which 1 have just escaped!" 
 
 "Where shall we go, then, Mollie ? Your word is law, your wish is a com- 
 mand with me." 
 
 "Where should we go but to the city of my heart, the city of my love, the 
 city where I have spent so many happy hours? beautiful, grand, lovely Chi- 
 cago!" 
 
 "Pardon me, my sister, but I thought the sight of Chicago might revive 
 memories that would not be pleasant ones!' 
 
 Parker spoke earnestly, solemnly, and with deep feeling, 
 
 "You are right, Jim," replied Mollie, with a tinge of sadness in her voice; 
 "but if I could recall the events that preceded my departure, I doubt if it would 
 be wise for me to do it. When in the cell that has held me for the past thirty 
 nights, I have had time to think, and think deeply, too. I have recalled to 
 memory every day's experience since that first night's ride, when I was rescued 
 by two brave men from the custody of villains. I have followed, hour by 
 hour, the incidents of the life I have led. I have tried to be _an impartial 
 judge of my own and of others' acts. I have wept scalding tears as memory 
 has taken me back to the happy hours when I was blessed with a love that I 
 believe to have been real and sincere. I never lost sight of you, my friend, as 
 I conjured up the good and the dreadful deeds of the past. The thought that 
 I had one friend left has been a source of great happiness to me, notwithstand- 
 ing the blackness in which my past and future has been enveloped. As I have 
 arrayed before me all the evidence, and weighed it carefully, I have become 
 convinced that there could have been no other ending to the intimacy that 
 made George Trussell my husband in everything but name. It was life or 
 death his life or mine ! I would have been true to George why was he not 
 true to me ? If I thought that I was in the sight of God guilty of the crime 
 of murder, I should, as judge in my own case, have convicted myself, sen- 
 tenced myself, and become my own executioner! This I was firmly resolved 
 to. I did not kill myself, because I did not believe that I was guilty. My own 
 conscience, in the light of all the evidence, acquitted me. A great load was 
 lifted from my heart. Where I had been sad, morose, conscience-stricken, 
 became light-hearted, cheerful, happy, and the days and nights passed lightly 
 over my heard. I tell you now, Jim Parker, that I have no regr^e for the act 
 to which you so sadly alluded. I can only think of George Trussell as I saw 
 him at the depot when he returned from the East, a perjured, false-hearted, 
 fickle, deceitful man ! I can see that other woman on his arm! I can see him 
 look down upon her with the light of a great love in the eyes that once fell on 
 me with the same tender regard! I can see that he was false when he wooed 
 me, false when he won me, false when he wore me as a jewel to be discarded 
 at his own caprice, false from first to last ! I loved him, I adored him, I wor- 
 shiped him and what did I get in return ? What did I get oa that last dread- 
 ful night? Curses! Blows'. 
 
 Irish Mollie was not excited when she said this. She was calm, composed, 
 earnest. She was glad she killed George Trussell glad that the blood of the 
 perjured gambler had expiated the breaking of that oath of fealty!
 
 64 
 
 As Jim Parker listened, joy and hope came to his heavy heart. Had the 
 Irish beauty schooled herself to hate the memory of the man she once loved? 
 Had she torn from her heart the idol that had so many long years held it pris- 
 oner? And if she had, was there not room in the vacant place for a love that 
 would be true, manly, holy ? Could it be possible that there was happiness in 
 the love of Irish Mollie's warm, impulsive heart in store for him ? There was 
 oliss in the hope! 
 
 But he dared not whisper one word that his heart prompted. Mollie Trus- 
 sell had issued a mandate forbidding any mention of love on penalty of her 
 hatred, and he would obey though his heart might break. 
 
 A forenoon train took them to Chicago. Mollie enjoyed the trip much bet- 
 ter than on that dreary day that saw her embark for Joliet. She was lively, 
 cheerful, gay. Her laugh was clear and pleasant, and no sigh of sorrow fol- 
 lowed it. 
 
 As they approached the city limits Jim Parker, in as careless a manner as 
 he eould, asked Mollie what were her intentions regarding the future. 
 
 The woman turned upon him with a stare that made him recoil and 'shud- 
 der. She was not offended, but in her eyes there lurked a look that sent a chill 
 to his heart. 
 
 Then she spoke. 
 
 "Am I not looking well ?" she asked, harshly, coldly. 
 
 "As well as ever in your life !" he replied, quickly, and with flushed face. 
 
 "Am I really handsome, Jim ?" 
 
 "Lovely, Mollie, lovely!" 
 
 "Has care, has trouble, has dissipation, have these years of excitement left 
 any trace-marks on my face? Are there any lines of sorrow here?" 
 
 Her fair fingers swept over a face that was indeed beautiful. The ripple 
 of excitement that coursed through her blue veins had heightened the charm 
 that was always on her brow, and her brown eyes beamed with a fire that was 
 brightened by the same inciting cause. 
 
 Jim Parker told the truth when, with rapt admiration in his voice and 
 look, he assured Mollie Trussell that she was a very queen of beauty. 
 
 "Well," she questioned, "can you not guess the nature of the calling to 
 whiofr the corning years of my life will be devoted ?" 
 
 "I really cannot," he candidly replied. He could not understand the mean- 
 ing of the woman's words. 
 
 "And must I tell you plainly what I am going to do ?" 
 
 "Yes, please plainly." 
 
 "Then you shall know the truth." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 He leaned forward eagerly, and there was an anxious, wistful look on his 
 honest face. 
 
 "I am going to become famous!" 
 
 "Are you not famous already, Mollie ?" 
 
 She laughed, but there was no glee in that laugh. 
 
 "Yes infamous !" 
 
 Tears moisted her eyelashes, but they were quickly, nervously brushed 
 aw r ay. 
 
 "Are you answered ?" she said, avoiding the searching look that glistened 
 from his soulful eyes. 
 
 "Xo, I am not! You have not told me! You have merely excited the cu- 
 riosity that istjDurning within me!" 
 
 "Then let that curiosity burn no longer! I am beautiful! That beauty 
 must be my fortune! From this time on I will be known the whole world 
 over as" 
 
 She hesitated a lump in her throat seemed to choke off her words. 
 
 "As what ?" gasped the man who loved her. 
 
 "As IRISH MOLLIE, THE COURTESAN QUEEN!" 
 
 These words were spoken in a hoarse whisper, but they fell with a heavy 
 weight upon the ears of an agonizing listener. 
 
 "Mollie! oh, Mollie, unsay those words! Tell me that you are joking that 
 you are playing with my feelings anything, anything, Mollie, except that you 
 are in earnest!"
 
 66 
 
 "I never was more-in earnest in my life," she quietly and firmly replied. 
 
 With a mighty effort she had beaten back the surging flood of excitement 
 that had momentarily embarrassed her, and she looked the picture of a deter- 
 mined, resolute woman. 
 
 There were words of reproach upon Jim Parker's lips, but he caught them 
 in his teeth and held them back. He would not censure her, he would not 
 curse her. 
 
 Irish Mollie could read his thoughts. She was waiting for the denuncia- 
 tion that she knew was struggling for utterance. His silence was oppressive. 
 A rebuke, stinging and eloquent, would have been a relief. 
 
 Men sometimes form sudden resolutions. Thoughts flash in their minds, 
 and on the instant secret determinations, binding as though they had been de- 
 liberated upon for weeks, are made. 
 
 Jim Parker had sealed in his heart a secret resolution. 
 
 "You do not speak," said Mollie, after waiting in vain for the words she 
 had expected to kear; "have you no kind wishes of luck and prosperity to 
 offer?" 
 
 "Pardon me," said Jim, with forced calmness; "I hardly know how to ex- 
 press the thoughts that this surprise have sent whirling through my weary 
 brain. That I wish you well, my friend, my sister, you must know. That I 
 had hoped for better news than that, you can readily infer. But, if the reso- 
 lution you have made is irrevocable, no words, no entreaties of mine can avail 
 to change them, and I bow to the will of the queen. I am your friend, what- 
 ever may come!" 
 
 The train stopped. They were at the depot. They were in Chicago! 
 
 "Mollie," said Jim, as they stepped from the cars, "I must leave you now. 
 I may not see you again for several days. Will you tell me where you are 
 going to stop where you can be found if your brother should seek for you ?" 
 
 Mollie was astonished. She had not expected that the man who loved her 
 would abandon her so soon. Indeed, she had been worried by the thought 
 that the parting would be a most painful one to both of them. She did not 
 show her astonishment, however, nor did she exhibit the shadow of chagrin 
 that, battle with her feelings as she would, could not be kept down. Her an- 
 swer to his question was prompt and commonplace: 
 
 "I have decided to make the house of my friend, Ruth Thomas, my tem- 
 porary home. To-night I shall send for Ida Preston, and, with the aid of 
 good old wine, will bury care, banish trouble, cast sorrow to the winds, and 
 make this good old town howl!" 
 
 Parker looked at her steadily, sternly, but his only words were, "Good bye, 
 I will see you again!" 
 
 And he turned and left her. 
 
 "Yes," he muttered, communing with himself, "/ will see you again, Miss 
 Mollie Trussell-- TO-NIGHT!" 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 Mollie Trussell met with an unexpected surprise when Jim Parker, with-' 
 out explanation and apparently without regret, left her at the depot. When 
 she was deprived of liberty, no friend could have been more constant, more 
 persistently devoted than he was. Through all the miseries and excitements 
 of the later years of her life, he had stuck to her as close as a dear brother 
 could. She had sternly, firmly rejected his lover-like advances, and his possi 
 ble importunities in that direction had troubled her mind; yet when he turned 
 his back upon her with so little Concern, seeming to abandon her without re 
 gret, she could not keep back a feeling of disappointment and regret trom l 
 
 ' "i imagined that he loved me," ske thought; "I really believed the man 
 weuld persist in his attentions and force me to repel him with words 
 it would wring my heart to use. Had any one told me that he would turn from
 
 me as he has done, I should have been offended. What dees he, what can he 
 mean? He loved me; I know he did; I could swear to it. Has that love left 
 his heart ? Do I hope it has ? Oh, heaven ! I do not know I do not know !" 
 
 A coldness crept over her, battle against it as she would, and there was lit- 
 tle joy in her heart as she felt herself pressed with sisterly affection to the 
 heart of Ruth Thomas. 
 
 Miss Thomas was waiting with a conveyance to take the released convict 
 to the mansion of shame kept by her on the North Side. 
 
 "Mqllie!" exclaimed Ruth, impetuously, "why are you so sad? why so 
 solemn in look, when blessed freedom, sweet liberty is once more yours?" 
 
 The courtesan queen, as she had styled herself, could not speak. In her 
 bosom there was a heavy load. She could only return the embrace, press the 
 warm hand of her friend, andjpillow her aching head on the sympathetic bosom 
 of Ruth Thomas. . 
 
 Little was said as they drove to the North Side bagnio. 
 
 "Give me something to brace up on, Ruth," she said, almost as soon as the 
 door was closed. 
 
 "Shall it be wine?" responded the party addressed. 
 
 "No! Wine is not strong enough to drown the thoughts that press upon 
 me so heavily now. Give me brandy!" 
 
 The effects of one drfnk, when a person feels despondent and disconsolate, 
 cannot be realized except by those who have experienced the sensation. In 
 Mollie's case the "blues" vanished as by magic, her eyes brightened, her spirits 
 rose, and she was once more the dashing woman whose brilliancy and beauty 
 had turned the heads of men renowned for solid depth of character and 
 breadth of brain. 
 
 Ida Preston and Lou Harper were sent for, and at the dinner-table none 
 enjoyed the feast more than Irish Mollie. none were more reckless than she in 
 the extravagance of delight that marked the merry event. Brandy had re- 
 vived her. Wine sparkling, bubbling, nerve-giving wine had fired her slug- 
 gish blood and sent its effervescent merriness to her heart and brain. 
 
 "We shall have a great time to-night," suggested Ruth Thomas, as they 
 enjoyed the flavor of the viands. 
 
 "Why so?" inquired Mollie, as she emptied a wine-glass. 
 
 "Oh, I had forgotten to tell you," exclaimed Ruth. "We all knew that you 
 were coining, and have made preparations for a select jubilee to-night. That 
 friend of yours the one I saw you with at the depot as you got off the cars 
 has worked harder for you, I really believe, than any man ever worked for 
 woman before. I have heard of him wherever I have been. He has haunted 
 the houses of those ladies you fooled so with the pious racket, and I don't be- 
 lieve you would have been pardoned but for his devotion and his sleepless en- 
 ergy. I wouldn't ask for a better friend than that man, if I was in trouble. 
 He must be a lover of yours, Mollie. Send for him, and let him enjoy with us 
 the pleasures of the hour as we celebrate the release he did so much to se- 
 eure!" 
 
 Mollie's face crimsoned. 
 
 "Oh, that man is a mere acquaintance," she said. Then a sudden thought 
 struck her, and she continued : 
 
 "I would not for the world have him know that I am in a house of this 
 kind. He is a religious man, and has interested himself in my behalf because 
 he believed I was sincere in the play I was making. I expected to meet some 
 of my old friends, and sent him away purposely, because I did not want to 
 hurt the poor man's feelings by letting him know the truth. I shall probably 
 never see him again. I shall surely never see him in a house of this kind!" 
 
 The lie was well told. The women believed it. 
 
 The hours rolled on. Evening came. The parlors were illuminated, and 
 preparations were made for a grand celebration of the event that made them 
 all happy. 
 
 The'house kept by Ruth Thomas was not patronized to any extent by the 
 class of people who are in the habit of frequenting ordinary sporting houses. 
 Solid citi/.ens judges, lawyers, artists, merchants, business men were the 
 people upon whom she relied as patrons. She was largely acquainted in the
 
 68 
 
 city, and was qualified to Delect for that night's guests only those who could 
 mingle agreeably together. 
 
 They came early, and long before midnight the parlors were comfortably 
 filled, The most of them had seen the heroine of the evening, but she was 
 personally acquainted with but few of them, and was intimate with none of 
 them. 
 
 Irish Mollie had never appeared more lovely than she did that night. Stim- 
 ulants had assisted greatly in preparing her for the merrymaking. The rosy 
 flush upon her faultless face was not natural, but it was beautiful. She was 
 dressed with care, and had purposely attired herself so as to display, to the 
 limit of decency, the wondrous perfection of her magnificent form. 
 
 All who met her admired her. Compliments, earnest and sincere, were 
 showered upon her. Other beautiful women were there, but their beauty could 
 not shine in the presence of a star of such brilliant magnitude. 
 
 Several gentlemen were more than courteous in their attentions. It was 
 understood that the famous woman had determined upon a continuance of gay 
 life, that she was even then ready to accept advances, and that the man with 
 the greatest powers of persuasion, with the most eloquent tongue in the way 
 of flattery, with the most gifted accomplishments in the art of infatuation, 
 would be the lucky winner of the coveted prize. 
 
 With such an "inducement it maybe imagined that the rivalry was hot, and 
 the. efforts to secure her smiles and her favors earnest and exciting. 
 
 One man seemed to be favored more than all others, though for what rea- 
 son it would be impossible to guess. He had held aloof a long time, giving 
 the others every opportunity to court the smiles of the queen. He was an elder- 
 ly gentlemen. FuJly fifty years had sprinkled his head with the frost that 
 betokened the early autumn of life. There was no flash, no style about him. 
 He was, too, a stranger. Mollie could not recollect having ever met him be- 
 fore; yet he talked to her as though they had been acquainted for years. 
 
 Gradually the other suitors gave up the contest. The stranger, with his 
 quiet, dignified appearance, his courtly, gentlemanly manners, and his calm, 
 passionless, sedate conversation, had outstripped his dashing rivals, and he 
 was gracefully recognized as the victor. 
 
 "Who is that lucky old man ?" whispered Lou Harper to Kuth, late in the 
 
 3 "f really do not know his name, but he was introduced to me this after- 
 noon by a banker one of our company to-night and came here with him, on 
 my invitation. He is a solid bloke, I guess, and Mollie is a sensible girl to se- 
 lect him instead of these handsome young fellows, who have more attractions 
 in person but less money in pocket than he has. Don't you think so, Lou ?' 
 
 "I do, indeed," was the reply. "Mollie has had all the love she wants, 1 
 guess, in this business. Money is what she is looking for now. Money is what 
 any girl must have if she wants to hold up her head and reign as a queen of 
 beauty You and I have lost our charms, Kuth, and we are qualified, I take it, 
 to act as judges in cases of this kind. Mollie Trussell could not have done 
 better if she had placed herself under our instructions and obeyed our orders. 
 I like to see a woman have sense. Butterflies are handsome, but the bees are 
 the ones that provide the hoaey. These young and fawning lovers are sweet 
 but the old cove has got the rocks, and he is the man for Mollie to tie to. J5ut 
 he is plain, though, and I am astonished that a girl as highly strung as Mollie 
 has always been should take him in preference to some of the more agreeable 
 
 1 Mollie's "mash" did not^seem to be affected by the wine he had drank, but 
 no one in the party was more liberal than he was in ordering it. Bottle after 
 bottle was cracked by his invitation. He was pleasant, gentlemanly but not 
 boisterous. Had Mollie Trussell been on trial again for murder, and he the 
 Judge, he could not have been more reserved, more frigidly calm and un- 
 
 The reason why others failed where he had won can be easily explained 
 He did not seek to attract the attention of the famous beauty until all the 
 others had been introduced. Then, approaching her in a gentlemanly, reserv- 
 ed manner, he said, in low tones, so that he could not be overheard : 
 "Miss Mollie, I should like to have a few quiet words with you?
 
 69 
 
 They retired to a corner not then occupied. 
 
 "1 take you to be a woman of sound sense and solid judgment, after the 
 experience of the past few months," he said. 
 
 Mollie inclined her head. 
 
 "What I have to say to you now is a matter of business" the man contin- 
 ued. And then he resumed without waiting for a reply. 
 
 "I am an old man, Miss Mollie, and have none of the pleasing ways that 
 make these young gentlemen who are now playing for your smiles so attrac- 
 tive. I infer, however, that, if you are to lead the life of a gay and dashing 
 courtesan, you had rather be an old man's darling and wear diamonds, than a 
 young man's pet without them." 
 
 "Go on," said Mollie, with encouragement in voice and manner. She was 
 pleased with the old gentleman's frankness. 
 
 "I am rich," were the banker's next words, "and I have no one on whom 
 to lavish the wealth that is daily accumulating in my business, I do not 
 tell you that I love you, do not ask you to dream of loving me. I am not so 
 blind nor so foolish as that. But I will tell you, plainly, that I admire you; 
 that I am infatuated with your great beauty ; that I have sought this interview 
 to make a bid for the loveliness that has so pleased me; and that, if you will in 
 a lady-like way, as pleasantly as you can, command all others to keep at a 
 respectful distance, and give them to understand that, for this night, I am to 
 be your friend, you will be one thousand dollars richer to-morrow than you 
 are to-day. This proposition is plain and blunt. As to my financial standing, 
 Miss Thomas can consult with the friend who brought me here, and who will 
 become surety for any sum earned by me." 
 
 Mollie was not slow to decide. She admired the old man's candor; and he 
 was not such a repulsive old man, either. 
 
 The reader now knows why the stranger was favored by the heroine of 
 that evening and this romance. He had bought her. 
 
 Irish Moliie drank freely, and her new-found friend, instead of restraining 
 her, as most gentlemen under the circumstances naturally would, encouraged 
 her in the indulgence that could only end in partial if not absolute loss of 
 self-control. She became boisterous, and demonstrative in a marked degree. 
 
 "This is my solid man!" she cried, as she held high a glass of sparkling 
 champagne, and placed a fair, round white arm around his neck. 
 
 Her grave companion did not smile, but he touched glasses with her, 
 drank, and kissed her. 
 
 One by one the guest departed. Lou Harper had gone, and Ida Preston 
 and her gentleman friend were all ready to leave, and had come to bid Mollie 
 good-night or good morning, rather, for daylight Avas not far away. 
 
 "Won't you go home with me ?" asked Ida, as she took the hand of her for- 
 mer associate and friend, and pressed it warmly. 
 
 "Oh, no, Ida. dear, my place is here," responded Mollie. laying her head 
 upon the old gentleman's breast lovingly, confidingly, almost affectionately. 
 
 "It is settled that way for sure, is it ?" playfully remarked Ida ; "well, it 
 has looked that way all the evening, and I am not much disappointed. Permit 
 me to wish you much joy!" 
 
 They were the last couple to go. Irish Mollie and her chosen companion 
 were left alone. Even Kuth Thomas had bid them good night. 
 
 "Come!" said Mollie, rising, gently pulling him towards her. 
 
 For the first time that night the old gentleman exhibited indications of 
 pleasure. Joy beamed on his honest face, and from his eyes there shot glances 
 of ardent affection, while from his lips there came but a single word: 
 
 "DAKLING!" 
 
 What was it that made that beautiful courtesan start and tremble ? Why 
 did she turn pale as the frescoed ceiling! What horror was it that made her 
 heart stand still ? 
 
 Ah! well she knew what it was! That word, darling, had never greeted 
 her before except from the lips of one whose pale, dead face even then stared 
 at her, outlined by a memory that she would have blotted from her mind if 
 she could! 
 
 With a mighty effort she regained the composure that for a moment had 
 deserted her, and again, with forced hilarity, she said:
 
 70 
 
 "Come!" 
 
 The old man's arm encircled her waist. He pressed her passionately to 
 his bosom. She could feel the mad, wild beating of his heart! 
 
 Without another word they left the parlor, another door closed upon them, 
 the key turned with a musical click, and they were alone! 
 
 Little did Irish Mollie dream of the startling sequel that would follow 
 that night's revels ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Ida Prestoa was an interested spectator of the merrymaking in the house 
 of Kuth Thomas, on the night following the day on which Mollie Trussell was 
 released. Ida was Mollie's tirm, true, honest friend. They confided in each 
 other, loved each other. They were prostitutes, it is true, but they loved as 
 affectionately as though they had been sisters by blood, pure as the purest. 
 Though Ida led a fast life, and would not hesitate to take part in any wicked- 
 ness usual to resorts of sin, she was really a girl of principle ; at the base of all 
 her badness there was a solid ground-word of honesty and integrity. She was 
 the first to notice the tokens of favor bestowed upon the eld gentleman by 
 Irish Mollie, and the circumstances troubled her. 
 
 Why did it trouble her ? Her own words, further along in this chapter, 
 will explain. 
 
 When the festivities of the evening were at their height, and Irish Mollie, 
 sitting on the knee of her new-found friend, was sipping wine and bringing 
 all her powers of fascination into play, she chanced to look across the room. 
 
 A pair of eyes were staring at her with a meaning that made the merry 
 girl start! 
 
 "What is the matter with Ida?" she thought; "why does she stare at me 
 BO seriously, so reproachfully ? What can I have done to offend her?" 
 
 It required an effort to turn from that steadily staring girl ; but she was 
 equal to the occasion, and the few minutes of merry conversation that follow- 
 ed banished from her mind the incident that had momentarily annoyed her. 
 
 Again she looked across the room, and again her eyes were confronted by 
 the same searching, penetrating gaze that had sent through her a cold, creep- 
 ing chill. 
 
 The beautiful courtesan was alarmed. 
 
 "Will you excuse me, while I speak to a lady friend ?" she whispered to the 
 old banker. 
 
 "Certainly, dear," he replied, with the dignity and courtesy that always 
 mark the well-bred gentleman ; "but do not remain long away," he continued, 
 "for without you I should feel strangely out of place in the society of these 
 free-and-easy revelers these dashing men and brilliant women of the town." 
 
 "I shall return soon," replied Mollie, "and when I do come you shall have 
 a sweet kiss as a reward for your kindness in consenting to let me go." 
 
 "A kiss from your lovely lips will repay the torture of a whole hour's ab> 
 sence," was the gallant response of the old man. 
 
 "Flatterer !" whispered the smiling charmer, as she arose and playfully 
 boxed the ears of her ardent but aged admirer. 
 
 "How beautiful she is!" he thought; "and for to-night she is mine all 
 mine!" And, victor that he was in the race for a fair woman's favor, he sigh- 
 ed with a depth that spoke of a deeper feeling than the passing frivolties of 
 the hour seemed to warrant. Was he in love so soon ? 
 
 Like a flash the smile faded from the face of Irish Mollie. 
 
 Not a word was spoken when the two girls met: but both knew that an 
 explosion or explanation of some kind must follow. Silently Ida arose, and 
 they retired to the privacy of an adjacent room. 
 
 "Ida!" whispered Mollie, earnestly, "what has happened? What have I 
 done ? How have I offended you ?" 
 
 "Have I said that I was offended, Mollie ?"
 
 71 
 
 "In words, no ! In looks, yes 1" 
 
 "And can you not guess ?" 
 
 "Oa my soul, BO!" 
 
 "Mollie Trussell, tkink!" 
 
 "Think! Oh, Ida, do not ask me to think! I cannot, I dare not think!" 
 
 "But you shall think, Mollie Trussell! I will drag you from the arms of 
 that man and make you think !" 
 
 She spoke frowningly, threateningly. 
 
 There dawned upon the mind of Irish Mollie a startling suspicion! She 
 folded her sinning sister in her arms and kissed her. 
 
 "Ida," she whispered, tenderly, "forgive me! I did not dream that I was 
 taking your place in the affections of that man ! I did not even suspect that 
 you ever saw him before! Banish these ugly frowns, my little friend, go back 
 with me to the parlor that we came from, and see how cleverly I can surren- 
 der him, and how nicely I can throw you back in to his arms the rascal!" 
 
 Once more her face wore smiles, but no smiles mingled with hers! Ida 
 Preston, pale, solemn, serene, answered slowly: 
 
 "I never, saw that man until to-night! He is nothing to me, Mollie!" 
 
 The Irish girl was nettled, and a sharp reply was on her lips, but before 
 she could speak Ida's bloodless lips were loosened. 
 
 "Do not be off ended, my friend," she said, "at what I am going to tell you. 
 I cannot think that you are so hardened and toughened by the experience of 
 the past few months that you will refuse to listen when I speak to you of- a 
 matter that has already affected -me to tears." 
 
 Mollie Trussell was completely mystified. 
 
 "Go on; I will listen," she said, wonderingly. 
 
 "Have you a heart, Mollie ?" queried Ida, earnestly. 
 
 "The same warm, affectionate, loyal, loving heart I always had!" 
 
 "I doubt it!" 
 
 "Tell me why! Tell me all you think!" 
 
 "I am afraid that what I have to say will not fall upon willing ears; but I 
 will say it, and you must listen!" 
 
 "I am eager to hear!" 
 
 "Mollie," resumed Ida, "I had a visitor this afternoon a friend of yours!" 
 
 "A friend of mine? Ah, you are mistaken this time, Ida, dear, for I have 
 no friend. You are my only, my dearest, my best loved friend!" 
 
 "And can you think of no other V" 
 
 "None! In the whole world, not one!" 
 
 The tears came to the Irish girl's eyes as she said this. 
 
 "You are strangely forgetful, Mollie Trussell!" 
 
 "I do not understand you." 
 
 "The man who called upon me to-day is a friend of yours, who has proved 
 his devotion by acts that it seems to me would melt any heart that was not 
 made of stone!" 
 
 Irish Mollie trembled as she said: 
 
 "You refer, I suppose, to" 
 
 "Jim Parker!" 
 
 Ida snatched the words out of the mouth of her beautiful companion. 
 She would not allow that man's name to be mentioned in such cold, uncon- 
 cerned, freezing accents. 
 
 "Mr. Parker was my friend, I do believe," said Mollie, with a trifle of feel- 
 ing in her voice, "but he is so no longer. Why, he left me to-day with us little 
 ceremony as one would part with a street acquaintance. He almost hurried 
 from me, as though he were ashamed to be seen with a released convict!" 
 
 The haughty queen of beauty spoke as though she felt hurt. 
 
 "And yet that man loves you! He loves you madly, truly, fervently! He 
 would marry y9u to-night if you would consent!" 
 
 Ida spoke calmly, seriously. 
 
 "How could he marry me to night when he is not here V" 
 
 "But he will be here! The last words he said to me were, '/ shall see Irish 
 Mollie to-night /' Has he not been here already '?" 
 
 A crimson tinge reddened the cheeks of Mollie Trussell as she heard these 
 words. She was pleased against her will. Jim Parker bad not forgotten her, 
 after all.
 
 72 
 
 "No," she said, answering the question of her friend, "I have not seen Mr. 
 Parker since I saw him at the depot; and he will certainly not be here, for it is 
 late already, and some of the guests are even now getting ready to go. I sin- 
 cerely hope he will not come, for his presence might prove an annoyance rather 
 than a source of pleasure." 
 
 She tried to appoar indifferent, but could not. There was a lump in her 
 throat. She spoke with a great effort. Ida could read her thoughts, and she 
 smiled. 
 
 "Your lips do not speak the words that your heart dictates," she said; "I 
 believe you would be glad to see Jim Parker walk through that door this min- 
 ute. You cannot spurn love like his." 
 
 "I respect him very much; it would be painful to displease him, and for 
 that reason I do not want to see him here. But you say you saw him to-day. 
 What did he say ?" 
 
 "He said, 'You will see Irish Mollie at the festival. Tell her I have not 
 forgotten her, and that if she should see me when she leasts expects to, she 
 must not be alarmed, must not be offended. 1 have watched and waited for 
 years, and I will win her, by fair means or by foul !' Those were his very 
 words Mollie; and I tell you that, knowing such love burns for you in a true 
 man's breast, it makes me hate you when I see you throwing yourself away on 
 an old lecher like the one I saw you entertaining so affectionately in the par- 
 lor!" 
 
 "So this lover of mine has made threats, has he ?" 
 
 The hot Irish blood of the fair heroine was rising. 
 
 "He spoke like a man." 
 
 "Then hear me speak! I tell you now, and I would tell him were he here, 
 that I will never be anything more to Jim Parker than I have been ! He can 
 be to me as a brother, but, so help me God, he can be nothing more!" 
 
 Was it a groan they heard ? 
 
 The door was slightly ajar. Both girls rushed to open it, but there was no 
 listener there! 
 
 The conference was over. Irish Mollie. was restored to the old gentleman, 
 who smiled pleasantly as he said: 
 
 "I had almost feared that you had forgotten me entirely. I trust you have 
 enjoyed yourselves while away ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, dear, we have had a lovely little chat together. But it was dry 
 talk, though!" 
 
 "Cleverly said," returned the banker, merrily, as he ordered wine. 
 
 Many more bottles followed, and Irish Mollie appeared eager to drink to 
 excess ambitious to become drunk'. 
 
 She was afraid Jim Parker would keep his word! She wanted thesupport 
 of such courage as wine gives, when he came. She knew he would be there; 
 she believed he was there; she was wild, crazy, mad; and, when the time came 
 to say good-night to all, it required all the courage in her heart to drive haunt- 
 ing suspicions away, and bid her elderly lover come as she led the way to a 
 bed-chamber 1 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 As recorded in a previous chapter, Mollie Trussell and her elderly suitor, 
 after bidding good-bye to all, entered the room that had been set aside by 
 Kuth Thomas for her use, and the key was turned that made their privacy 
 more secure. 
 
 "Thank God I am safe !" exclaimed the courtesan queen, involuntarily, 
 without seeming to realize that she was in the presence of a man a stranger. 
 
 There was surprise in the voice of her companion as he said: 
 
 "You seem to be excited and alarmed, dear. Tell me the reason, please, 
 for I cannot understand that danger of any kind has menaced you." 
 
 "Excuse me, sir. I was only thinking. There was no meaning to the
 
 74 
 
 words you heard. I am a poor, foolish, excitable girl, and the slightest causes 
 sometimes produce effects that are ridiculous." 
 
 "Then there must have been a slight cause for that exclamation, "/ am 
 fOfeF Confide in me, dear, I will be your friend. If there is danger in your 
 path, tell me. I am an old man, Miss Mollie, but I have some strength and 
 courage left, and if the necessity should arise I would fight for you as zealous- 
 ly and as bravely as could any of those young lovers you have^. abandoned for 
 
 The old man spoke as though he meant what he said. 
 
 "Really, there was nothing in that foolish, hasty, thoughtless remark. I 
 do not and have not anticipated danger of any kind." 
 
 "But there is something in it! What were you thinking about, Mollie ?" 
 
 "I do not know ! Wine might have muddled my brain. I have drank more 
 to-night than I ever drank before, in one night, in my life. And yet I do not 
 feel the slightest effects of drinking. I wish I did, oh, how I wish I did!" 
 
 The old man invited her to a seat on a sofa, at his side. He did not act 
 like a man accustomed to adventures such as he was then engaged in. 
 
 "Did you lock the door V" shte asked, nervously. 
 
 "I did, my dear." 
 
 "Are you sure V" 
 
 "Of course I am sure; but supposing the door was not locked are there 
 any robbers about the house?" 
 
 "No, not robbers but some one might possibly come in." 
 
 His word would not satisfy her. She tried the door, examined all the clos- 
 ets, peered into every corner, and firmly convinced that they were absolutely 
 alone, sat down. A sigh of* relief swelled in her bosom as she did so. 
 
 She did not mean to betray her fears, but the old gentleman seemed quick 
 to catch and comprehend them. 
 
 His arms encircled her waist, He held her hand in his. He was just as 
 calm, just as solemn, as he had been, with a single exception, during the whole 
 evening. Irish Mollie had expected a demonstration of exultation and joy 
 over his victory, but she was disappointed happily disappointed. 
 
 The beautiful girl liad sold herself to this old man, and he was proving a 
 most desirable purchaser. 
 
 "Mollie, dear," said the kind old gentleman, "kiss me!" 
 
 She kissed him. The request, she thought, was quite reasonable, and to 
 be expected. 
 
 "Press me to your heart and tell me that you love me!" he commanded. 
 
 She treififoled and did not comply. 
 
 "I cannot do that, sir, because, bad woman that I am, I am honest, and 
 will not lie. I do not. cannot love you!" 
 
 "I knew it," he replied, pleasantly, "and I am glad you refused. I can res- 
 pect you now, but if you had consented, as I requested, I should have known 
 you to be a hypocrite 'and a wanton, whose soul was for sale, as well as her 
 charms!" 
 
 Mollie was silent. 
 
 "Tell me, Mollie," he continued, coaxingly, "what is it that troubles you so 
 this morning ? Be frank with me. Trust me." 
 
 Convinced that she could not deceive him, Mollie decided to reveal at least 
 a portion of the truth. 
 
 "I rather expected a disagreeable visitor," she explained, "I have been told 
 that a man threatened to come here to-night, whom I did not wish to see. I 
 did not know when to look for him, nor where; and when, at last, I reached 
 this room, after the house had closed, and became certain that he could not 
 possibly keep his word, a great feeling of relief overcame me, and the words 
 you heard came to my lips without my really knowing whut I said. So now 
 you know all. I have really told you the truth. 
 
 "But this man that you speak of who is he, and what reason have you for 
 fearing him V" 
 
 "He is a man who has greatly befriended me. I do not fear him, though. 
 I do not think he would harm me were all the riches in the world laid at his 
 feet. I respect him, I like him, but well, that is all I I did not wish to be 
 annoyed by his importunities."
 
 75 
 
 "Does this man love you, Mollie ?" 
 
 "He has told ine so. Yes, I think, I know he loves me. I only wish that 
 he did not." 
 
 "Has he loved you long ?" 
 
 "Years, sir." & 
 
 "Is he an honest man V" 
 
 "Honest, noble, kind he is all these, and more." 
 
 "Don't you think you could love him a little if you tried V" 
 
 "Oh, do not ask me! I do not know!" 
 
 "Suppose he should come here now, and I should withdraw and ask him t 
 take my place, what would you say ?" 
 
 "I would despise, scorn and hate him!" 
 
 "Why ?" 
 
 "Because he would be a sneak! But why talk of him V I know he will 
 not come in that way, for he is too manly." 
 
 "Do you think he will quietly leave you, and find some one else to caress 
 and love ?" 
 
 A pain shot through that girl's heart, and she shook as from an attack of 
 ague! 
 
 Why did this old man question her so closely ? She could not understand it. 
 
 "Pardon me for being so inquisitive," he continued, "but I have a strange 
 fascination for the romances of this life that we are all passing through. I 
 like to learn of the mysteries and miseries that gladden with joy or rend with 
 despair the human heart. I believe that you would be jealous if you were to 
 see this young man that you have spoken of in the arms of another woman. 
 Now, tell me truly, Mollie, would you not ?" 
 
 No reply came to the lips of Irish Mollie. She was dumb. There was a 
 far-away look in her eyes, and she stared at vacancy. She looked like one in a 
 trance. 
 
 That mysterious, emotionless old man was also silent. He did not want 
 to interrupt the train of thought that was rushing at high pressure speed 
 through the brain of the woman whose attentions he had paid for. 
 
 Suddenly remembering where she was, Mollie with an effort shook off that 
 oppressive sensation that had mesmerized her, and turned to her silently-gaz- 
 ing companion with a look that meant an apology and an appeal. 
 
 "You did not answer my question," he said, quietly. 
 
 "It is not a fair question, and I cannot answer it." 
 
 "In what respect is it not fair ? Are you not mistress of your own mind ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, I suppose I am. But it is preposterous improbabler-impossible. 
 Jim Parker is incapable of an act like that!" 
 
 "Jim Parker! That, then, is the young man's name." 
 
 "It is. I was careless, thoughtless in speaking it." 
 
 "Well, now, suppose I should tell you that I know Jim Parker well ; sup- 
 pose I should tell you that I have seen him this very evening; suppose that I 
 should tell you he loves" 
 
 "Stop!" gaspetl Mollie. 
 
 "Why should I stop?" 
 
 "Because I command you! I will not listen to one word against that 
 man! If you should tell me that he loves another woman I would tell you to 
 your teeth that you lie!" 
 
 "I did not tell you so. I did not tell you that I know him. I did not tell 
 you that he loves any one. I was merely supposing !" 
 
 "Your are right, sir, and I was wrong, but I am weak Jiere," placing her 
 hand upon her brow, "and you must overlook my folly." 
 
 "Will you permit me to continue?" 
 
 "If you insist, yes." 
 
 "I do not insist, Mollie. I would not pain you. If to talk of that man 
 annoys you, I will stop short and say no more." 
 
 "It does not particularly annoy me. I will listen to anything that you 
 may say." 
 
 "As I was saying, then, we will suppose that I do really know Parker; 
 we will suppose that lie sent me here in his place!" 
 
 "Oh, heaven!" cried Mollie, clasping her hands with impassioned vehe- 
 mence -
 
 76 
 
 jrds 
 
 vwy . , i_, i^vx^\^ijxAA^ VA.v*UV,'\A iJ.V> UO-AVyV* uO Ov/11 l*i V/l 11J.O W1VC. UllO lit' I. 
 
 Seizing hold of her arm and pulling her towards him, he whispered- 
 
 "We will suppose, Mollie Trussell, that" 
 
 "What ?" shrieked the excited girl, beside herself with exciten 
 1's sake tell me what!" 
 
 "We will suppose that JIM PARKER is MY SON!" 
 With a low moan tke beautiful Irish girl fell back upon the sofa, insensible, 
 
 The old man did not heed her words or her despairing, agonizing face. HA, 
 too, was becoming excited. He tried to control his voice, but he could not. 
 zing hold of her arm and pulling her towards him, he whispered- 
 
 "We will suppose, Mollie Trussell, that" 
 
 "What?" shrieked the excited girl, beside herself with excitement, "for 
 God's sake tell me what!" 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 There was a strange expression on the face of that old man as he looked 
 down upon the woman who had swooned in his presence. He had arisen from 
 the sofa, and stood over her, his eyes riveted on her face. His heart beat wild- 
 ly, his breast heaved with emotion, and he seemed to be enduring an agony 
 that found no expression in words. He was dumb, but in every fibre of his 
 body there was that mute eloquence that sometimes thrills the beholder as 
 nothing else can. 
 
 Irish Mollie's shock was but momentary. She opened her eyes, sLowly and 
 shuddered as they encountered the earnest, passionate gaze of that strange man. 
 
 Then she remembered what he had said "suppose that Jim Parker is my 
 son!" and it required all the courage that was in her to retain the coascious- 
 ness that the sensational scene had deprived her of. The mental struggle was 
 soon over, and again she was herself. 
 
 "Sir," she said, breaking the oppressive silence, "it was cruel of you to take 
 advantage of a poor girl whose troubles should have commanded pity. Had I 
 known who you were, all the money in Chicago could not have tempted me to 
 do even so little as I have already done." 
 
 The man did not speak. 
 
 Irish Mollie resumed: 
 
 "I am grateful, Mr. Parker, that you lifted the mask so soon. I release 
 you from the obligation the price you bought me with and now, if you will 
 be good enough to retire, and leave me to mj borrows and my thoughts, I shall 
 esteem it a great favor." 
 
 She tried to appear haughty and queenly, but there was a pathos in her 
 voice that her looks could not dispel. She was laboring under excitement 
 and endeavoring to suppress it. 
 
 The man was still stone. He did not speak. 
 
 "You do not go, you do not speak," exclaimed Mollie, after a moment's 
 pause. 
 
 "I did not come here with the intention of going away so soon," said the 
 old man, slowly. And then he continued : 
 
 "I bought you, Mollie Trussell, and you are mine! I do not care to break 
 the contract! I hold you to the bargain 1" 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Parker!" 
 
 "Did I say my name was Parker ?" 
 
 "You said you was Jim Parker's father!" 
 
 "I did not!"* 
 
 "What do you mean ?" 
 
 "I said, Miss Mollie, as you will perhaps remember if you recall my words, 
 'suppose that Jim Parker is my son.' Those were my exact words." 
 
 "And you are not his father V" 
 
 "I am not! You, Mollie, are as near related to me by blood, so far as I 
 know, as any human being in Chicago!" 
 
 "Then you were playing upon my feelings!" 
 
 "I was testing you. I wanted to sound you, I wanted to know to what 
 extent your affections were encumbered. I wanted to learn, by strategy, 
 whether your heart was tied up or free." 
 
 "You led me to believe that you had seen Parker that he had sent you
 
 77 
 
 here that there was some secret understanding between you and him. "Was 
 that true, or was you only supposing all the way through ?" 
 
 He evaded the question. 
 
 "Come, come," he said, pleasantly, "let us talk no more on this upleasant 
 subject; let us think no more of it; let us drown passing cares in wine! Will 
 you ling for a servant and a bottle, dear ?" 
 
 "No! I have had wine enough. I will drink no more with you!" 
 
 "Are you seriously offended, Mollie ?" 
 
 "Yes, I *n." 
 
 "And can't you forgive me ?" 
 
 "I cannot I will not." 
 
 "And why not, dear ?" 
 
 "Address me no more, sir, in endearing terms. I do not want them. I 
 do not want your money. I do not want your company. I hate you !" 
 
 "Indeed! If I was Jim Parker perhaps my society would be more pleas- 
 ant and my presence more congenial ?" 
 
 The old man assumed a tone of sneering sarcasm. 
 
 "I am free to say that it would," was the prompt and quickly-uttered 
 reply. 
 
 Irish Mollie did nor notice the gleam of exultation that shot its radiance 
 across the old man's face. She did not notice that the answer pleased him. It 
 was her aim to offend him, and drive him away. She wanted to rid herself of 
 an unwelcome visitor. 
 
 "But I will not go," he ventured to remark, resuming his seat and looking 
 at her defiantly. 
 
 "Then I will!" said Irish Mollie, sharply, springing to the door. 
 
 It was locked, and the key was missing! 
 
 The old man laughed. 
 
 "Why don't you go, darling?" he sneered; "your lover might be waiting for 
 YOU on the outside!" 
 
 "Give rne the key !" she almost shrieked. 
 
 Anger was fast getting the proud girl under control. 
 
 "What a foolish man I would be to do that," he replied, with exasperating 
 sangfroid; "don't you think it would be folly for a man who had chased a 
 valuable bird to a trap to open the cage door and let the imprisoned beauty ily 
 away ?" 
 
 "I am not a bird, sir, and you have not captured me, as you may think, 
 even though you have stolen the key to my door! I am not afraid of you, 
 either, old man!" 
 
 She spoke hotly. She was mad. 
 
 "You need not be afraid, dear," he interrupted, mildly; "I would not harm 
 you. and I would die right here in this room before I would let harm come to 
 you!" 
 
 "You would?" 
 
 She spoke wonderingly, thoughtfully. 
 
 "Yes, Mollie, I surely would." 
 
 "You would die for me ?" 
 
 "If necessary to protect or shield you, I would." 
 
 "Why would you endanger your own life for my safety, old man? It is 
 not more than seven hours since you first spoke to me." 
 
 "Isn't it?" 
 
 "No, sir, it is not. And another thing I believe you are 'guying' me. 
 You think I am a fool." 
 
 "Do not say thaf," the old man said, seriously, reproachfully; "in all that I 
 said I was in earnest every word!" 
 
 '-Then explain why you take such remarkable interest in a poor friendless 
 girl like me. Tell me all. Hold nothing back." 
 
 'You will not be offended ?" 
 
 "Xo, sir, I will not be offended." 
 
 "It is because because, Mollie Trussell, I love you!" 
 
 "His face flushed, He was really in earnest. The girl felt it, knew it, and 
 all feelings of anger and resentment vanished as quickly as they had risen, 
 
 "You ? You love me V" she said, "It is impossible!"
 
 78 
 
 "But I do! I love you so well that I will marry you this very morning, 
 Before the sun is an hour high, if you will consent!" 
 
 "Oh, you foolish old man!" 
 
 Mollie laughed. She could not help it. It was comical, in her mind, to 
 Lave a man old enough to be her grandfather on his knees to her the first day 
 after her release, protesting love. 
 
 "I may be foolish, but I am sincere," he replied, without seeming to notice 
 her merriment. 
 
 "Will you marry me, Mollie?" he asked, after a moment's silence. 
 
 "Bless your old soul, no!" she replied, pleasantly; "I am not 'on the marry' 
 now. You have bought me, and what more can you ask ?" 
 
 "Consider my offer seriously," he pleaded; "I am a man of means; I will 
 take-you away from the hateful scenes of the past; I will give you a name; I 
 will make you respected, honored, loved and I will make you love me, too, 
 Mollie!" 
 
 She felt kindly towards the old man as she placed her arm around his neck 
 and kissed him affectionately. 
 
 "It is the wine that you have drank that is talking, and not you," she said, 
 softly, "and even if I could accept your offer I ought not to and would not do 
 it. It would be taking a mean advantage of an innocent old gentleman, and I 
 should never forgive myself. Do not think of it any more, say no more about 
 it, and let us speak of other and more pleasant things. I will join you in 
 another bottle, if only to drive away the seriousness that seems to have fas- 
 tened itself upon us. But the servants are abed and asleep, and I shall have 
 to open it myself." 
 
 "Oh, no! I could not permit you to do that! I know where the wine 
 vault is, for I saw the black woman opening wine in it last night. You re- 
 main here, and see how nicely I can perform for you a menial's duties!" 
 
 "As you will," she laughingly replied, taking a magazine from a table and 
 busying herself by looking at the engravings, for she could not read a word. 
 
 "The old man is gone quite a while." she thought, as she studied the pic- 
 tures; but she did not feel that anything was wrong, and was so engagevl and 
 entertained at what she was looking at that she did not raise her eyes from the 
 pages of the monthly, when the door was opened and the wine, in a silver 
 tray, was placed on the marble table. 
 
 The man stood behind her, his hand upon her shoulder. 
 
 "Let me offer a sentiment, Mollie," he said. 
 
 It was the old gentleman's voice, and Mollie did not look up, but took her 
 glass mechanically and responded; 
 
 "A sentiment? I will drink with pleasure to anything you may propose!*' 
 
 "Before we drink, though, Mollie, let me ask you to be calm, be womanly, 
 be the heroic woman I know you are, for a great surprise awaits you!" 
 
 He was leaning over her. His lips almost touched her cheek. 
 
 "If there are more surprises for me to-night, or this morning, for the night 
 has passed, let them come, said Mollie, gaily. 
 
 She could not conceive of anything more serious than another avowal of 
 love, and that, from an old man, could be treated with levity as a joke. 
 
 "Touch glasses!" he commanded, still standing behind and bending ever 
 her. 
 
 She obeyed. 
 
 The man slowly repeated: 
 
 "Here's to the love that lasts for years; here's to the love that feasts n 
 tears; here's to the love that gladdens the giver, that causes maidenly hearts 
 to quiver; here's to a love that is steeped in folly; here's luck to the man who 
 loves Irish Mollie!" 
 
 The beautiful courtesan queen, supposing the lines he had spoken had 
 been committed to memory from some book, had listened with mere polite at- 
 tention ; but when her own name was made to rhyme so neatly she turned 
 quickly and looked wonderingly up. 
 
 The glass in her hand dropped on the marble table and was shattered to 
 fragments! 
 
 Pressing both hands upon her fair brow Irish Mollie shrieked: 
 
 "Great God! why did I not suspect this!"
 
 79 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 The scene in that room in the House of Euth Thomas, when Irish Mollia 
 looked wonderingly up into the face of the supposed old man whose lips had 
 pronounced the strange words 
 
 "Here's to the love that is steeped in folly, 
 Here's luck to the man who loves Irish Mollie!" 
 
 was one of the most thrillingly dramatic ever witnessed, on the stage or off. 
 
 The exclamation, "Great God! why did I not suspect this?" came involun- 
 tarily to the beautiful courtesan's lips. 
 
 The face she saw was not that of the old gentleman. 
 
 Jim Parker stood before her! 
 
 Was it a wonder that she was surprised ? 
 
 The truth flashed through her quick brain instantaneously. During the 
 whole night, whenever she had looked into the eyes of her apparently aged 
 purchaser for such she regarded him a feeling of mystery crept over her. 
 Those eyes were familiar, though the man was a stranger. The voice, too, 
 had occasionally sounded strangely like that of of an old friend. And when- 
 ever she looked at him quickly she always found him regarding her with such 
 affectionate, tender glances that it almost pained her. 
 
 It required no words to tell the whole story. Jim Parker had been with 
 her all night! The disguise he had worn was complete. It would have de- 
 ceived anybody. It had.pruelly, as she then thought, deceived her. 
 
 He did not speak, but waited in silence for the words that should follow 
 the exciting tableau. 
 
 Jim Parker did not have to wait long. There was a volcano in that pas- 
 sionate woman's breast, and there was anger in her wondrously beautiful 
 eyes. 
 
 "Sneak !" she hissed. 
 
 Still he did not speak. 
 
 "Coward!" she littered, spitefally. 
 
 Jim Parker had nerved himself for this exciting scene. He was under 
 complete control of himself, and not a muscle moved. 
 
 ''Mollie," he said, calmly, "you promised me that you would meet any sur- 
 prise heroically. Before you saw me as I now am, and when you believed I 
 was an old man, I told you that a great surprise awaited you. It has come. I 
 have been with you this whole night. I have pressed you to my bosom. I 
 have kissed you, and you have returned those kisses! I have, with the aid of 
 a clever disguise, triumphed over you! But, Mollie Trussell, before you hurl 
 ;it me too many curses, before you bury me too deep under the load of male- 
 dictions that come so hot from your heart, I ask you to give me one great 
 mark of credit. I ask you to reflect upon the fact that I revealed my true 
 identity at a time when / could have gone much further, and enjoyed a 
 triumph such as man seldom gains when battling with a woman so shrewd as 
 you are. I did not profit by the advantage that was mine. Where would we 
 be now, Mollie, if I had really been a base sneak and cruel coward ?" 
 
 The man raised his arm, and with his forefinger pointed in the direction 
 of the bedroom. 
 
 Merciful heaven! Where would they have been ? 
 
 That was a lucky speech for Jim Parker. It was manly in him to unmask 
 on the very threshold of victory, and Mollie's heart softened as wax softens 
 under blazing heat, when she thought of it. 
 
 She did not hesitate to speak: 
 
 "I was hasty, Jim, and unjust, and I recall the words. I expected to see 
 you vras looking for you but, fool that I was, I did not know you. You de- 
 ceived me thoroughly. Why did you do it ?" 
 
 "Can you not imagine the motive that prompted this night's masquerade, 
 Mollie?" ' 
 
 "Xo, I cannot. I have been frank with you, and I was le.-l to believe that 
 you had finally concluded that I was in earnest, and had given me up." 
 
 "I will never give up hope, Mollie!"
 
 80 
 
 The girl was not displeased. His was a romantic love, and she admired 
 him. If she could ever love any man it would be Jim Parker, she thought. 
 Repeating the question, "why did you do it ?" she continued : 
 
 "If you had come here to-night just as you are now, you would have been 
 well treated. You have been very kind to me, Jim, and I would be a most 
 ungrateful wretch if I did not appreciate it." 
 
 "Would you have treated me just the same as you did the old man, Mollie ?" 
 
 The girl blushed and hesitated, but soon replied: 
 
 "No, Jim, I would not." 
 
 "And I knew you would not I That was my reason for coming the way I 
 did. I had learned from your own lips that you intended to go baek to the 
 old and awful life. Ida Preston told me of the reception here, and I told her 
 that I should come. The banker who came here with me assisted in the plot, 
 furnished me the disguise, and encouraged me to play the part to the end of 
 the drama! There was a devil in me when I catae here! The check I gave 
 was good, and will be honored when presented. I knew that money would 
 buy you, and I knew, too, that a thousand dollars would make the purchase. I 
 did not intend to undeceive you. My purpose was to carry out the deception. 
 I half believed that you would marry the rich 'old man,' and I should have 
 married you this morning, and trusted to your kind heart for forgiveness when 
 the hour for recognition came. But when you refused I relented. I could not 
 carry deception as far as that. I have succeeded, however, in the one grand 
 purpose that brought me here I have kept others away from you! ' 
 
 The girl did not reply, and her persistent lover in soothing words asked: 
 
 "Are you so seriously offended that you cannot forgive me, Mollie V" 
 
 "I ought not to forgive you," she replied; but there was no angt-r in her 
 voice. 
 
 "Won't you fill up another glass, Mollie? Won't you drink luck to the man 
 who loves Irish Mollie ?" 
 
 "Yes I wish you all the luck in the world, and I will drink to the toast!" 
 
 "Brave, true, noble girl; I thank you!" exclaimed Jim, with a joy that 
 showed itself in his flushed face. 
 
 "Don't presume too far," warned the girl, fearing that her impetuous lov- 
 er might imagine that she meant more than she said. 
 
 "I am glad it is all over, anyway," she resumed; "and I am not sorry that 
 tins night's adventures turned out as they did. I hate this fife that I have 
 commenced, and I dread the hour that will see me once more in the ranks of 
 the women of the town!" 
 
 "Why do you embrace it, then, if you dread it so V" 
 
 "Oh, do not ask-! Leave me now, Jim, please, like the good, kind friend 
 that you are. I will see you again goon. I am tired excited nervous 
 crazy!" 
 
 I shall not leave you, Mollie," he said, firmly; "I shall hold you to the con- 
 tract made to-night! The money is yours! You are mine!" 
 
 "Jim Parker! are you crazy?" 
 
 "No; I ana a business man, talking to a business woman! I have paid your 
 price, and I demand the delivery of the goods!" 
 
 The girl was thunderstruck. 
 
 'Money!" she said, sharply, "do you think I would take money from you ? 
 Do you think I would have accepted of one thousand or ten thousand dollars 
 4f I had known who it was that made the offer? No, sir! I will not touch it!" 
 
 Parker acted as though he expected just such a reply. 
 
 "I came here for a purpose," he said, "and I have half accomplished it. 
 The other half may not be completed to-day, but I tell you. Mollie, that the 
 next effort will be more successful! I love you! I have loved you for many 
 years! I have proved my love! The most heroic, courageous act of my life 
 was the unmasking that took place only a few minutes ago I ought to have 
 been as heartless as you are. I ought to have kept up the deception and re- 
 vealed myself to you after a day or a week of licentious revelry had passed. I 
 did not do it, because I foolishly thought you would relent and throw your- 
 self, with love and affection, into my arms! It seems that you have determin- 
 ed to resist not only my entreaties, but the pleadings of your own heart, and 
 travel the road to ruin ; I now tell you, Irish Mollie, that I shall not be so fool-
 
 THE CRUEL ASSAULT, 
 Miraculous that Irish Mollie Escaped Instant Deat
 
 82 
 
 ish again! This morning I shall leave you. But mark my words, the time 
 will come when Jim Parker will meet you just the same as he did to-night, 
 and when you recognize him it will be when WAKING IN HIS ARMS!" 
 
 He left the room and the house without another word. 
 
 The girl was amazed, What did the man mean? What would be the 
 next move in this strange game of passion ? 
 
 She slept until evening, awoke, dressed herself with care, and seemed to 
 those who met her to be a contented, happy woman. But she was not. She 
 feared that something dreadful would happen. She believed that Jim Parker 
 would make good his threats. 
 
 But she diduiot fully realize that on that very nigkt another exciting ad- 
 venture awaited her! 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 Irish Mollie had made up her mind, while in prison, that as soon as libera- 
 ted she would throw off the cloak of hypocrisy that had fitted her so well, and 
 at once renew her old bad calling. The good people who had interested them- 
 selves so zealously in her favor she could avoid; but there was one friend she 
 could not shake off if she would. Did she want to? Would she, if her will 
 was law, send Jim Parker away, never to see him more? 
 
 She liked that man. Had there never been a George Trussell, she would 
 have loved him. He was very dear to her. If she should see him in another 
 woman's arms, there would be murder in her heart. And yet, realizing this; 
 knowing that he loved her with a devotion such as few men had ever loved 
 before; knowing that he was ready and anxious to give her his name and the 
 protection of his arm, she battled against herself, and madly determined that, 
 come what would, she would shake off all obstacles and take the position she 
 had once held as the courtesan queen of Chicago! Jim Parker could be her 
 brother nothing more! 
 
 He had left her with a threat. She was forewarned. There could be no 
 danger, she thought. But still, the last words of the man who loved her ke.pt 
 ringing in her ears: "Jim Parker will meet you, and when you recognize him 
 it will be when waking in his arms!" 
 
 She laughed at his threat, but it was a doleful laugh. There was doubt, 
 uncertainty, fear in the sound. 
 
 "1 will not see him to-night I will not see him for a week," she thought; 
 "when the poor foolish boy comes here again in disguise he will iind no Mollie 
 to deceive, and he will be a clever detective if he succeeds in hunting her to 
 her hiding place." 
 
 She had formed a resolution, and immediately took steps to carry it out. 
 One of the young gentlemen who had attended the reception had been much 
 more demonstraty* in his professions of friendship than any of the others. 
 She really believeaThat he cared more for her than his words betokened, for 
 his looks had plainly spoken a grievous disappointment when he failed to win 
 her favors on that festive evening. He would, she was sure, welcome with 
 joy a message to come to her. She would send for him, they would go out to 
 some private resort, and for a week she would be free from fear of the pres- 
 ence of a lover whose attentions she began to consider in the light of persecu- 
 tion. 
 
 "I will write to him" she was whispering to an imaginary friend "I will 
 explain all, ask him to help me, and beg of him to come soon. 
 
 Then a shadow passed over the beautiful face of the famous queen. 
 Alas! she could not write one word, did not know one letter from another! 
 
 "Ida Preston can write, if I cannot," she thought, and a servant was sent 
 out to order a hack. 
 
 An empty carriage was met by the messenger, and engaged with less de- 
 lay than had been anticipated. 
 
 "Luck seems to be coming my way," she said, smilingly, to the servant; '
 
 83 
 
 expected you to be gone at least half an hour, and here you are back again In 
 less than five minutes." 
 
 Then she turned to the hackman: 
 
 "Do you know where Miss Lou Harper lives, over on Monroe street ?" 
 
 "Know it well, ma'am ; bin there a hundred times, I reckon ; want to ride 
 over?" 
 
 "No, I do not wish to go there novy, but I want you to carry a message for 
 me. It will not be necessary to send it in writing. I wish you to go there, as 
 soon as possible, inquire for Miss Ida Preston, and say to her that her friend 
 Mpllie wishes to see her at once, on important business. She will ride back 
 with you,and then I presume I shall want you for the remainder of the night, 
 or the best part of it, anyway." 
 
 "All right, ma'am," said the hackman, respectfully, "I'll be over there ia 
 five minutes. Ida Preston that's the right name, is it V These gals have so 
 many names, sometimes, that they themselves forget exactly what name to 
 answer to. But I'll remember, ma'am Ida Preston." 
 
 "That's right, my man, and hurry over as soon as you can." 
 
 The carriage rolled rapidly in the direction of the South Side. 
 
 The hackman was soon pulling at the bell of the Monroe street palace. 
 
 "I wish to see Ida Preston," he said to the housekeeper, as she opened the 
 door. 
 
 Ida was called. 
 
 "Is this Ida Pressman ?" he inquired. 
 ' "Preston, sir," was the short reply. 
 
 "Oh, yes, that is the name, come to think of it! Well, a Woman over on 
 the North Side Mollie somebody or other wants you to come over, right 
 away, on important business, and I'm to draw you over, ma'am I" 
 
 "Did she send no written message ? No note ?" 
 
 "Nary a note. I've told ye jest what she told me. Ye're to git into that 
 are kerridge, right away them's the orders and I'm to hev ye over thar jest 
 as quick as them are bosses can pull ye!" 
 
 Ida did not care to exchange words with the hackman, though she did not 
 exactly relish the air of authority and importance he assumed. She knew 
 that Irish Mollie had sent for her, knew that something unusual had taken 
 place, and was anxious to learn more of the mystery, if mystery it was. 
 
 "Very well, my good man," she said to the driver, "I will hurry and get 
 ready. Don't go away. I shall be ready to start within five minutes." 
 
 "All right, Miss," said the driver, as she closed the door. "Five minutes!" 
 he growled, as he returned to the hack; "a woman's five minutes! Half an 
 hour, if it's a second! 'My good man,' she called me. Maybe she won't think 
 I'm such a good man, by the time she gets through with me! 'Good wolf 
 would sound better! Yes, old boy," he continued, talking to himself, and 
 pounding his broad breast to keep him warm, "you're a wolf to-night, sure! 
 Let the lambs be careful, or they'll wake up in the morning and find them- 
 selves all chawed up. I'm hungry for blood, I am!" 
 
 The door opened, and Ida Preston came hurrying out. ,_x 
 
 "Great Caesar! Beady so soon ?" exclaimed the hackman; who was really 
 astonished. 
 
 "I generally keep my word," was the quiet response, as she stepped into 
 the carriage. 
 
 "All right, miss, all right!" 
 
 The whip cracked and away they went. 
 
 "Yes, it is all right, Miss Ida Preston," mumbled the hackman to himself, 
 "and if it ain't I'll make it all right before morning bet your life I will!" 
 
 The house of Kuth Thomas was reached without accident or incident. 
 
 "Thanks for your promptness," said Mollie, smilingly, to the hackman, as 
 she met her visitor at the door. 
 
 "Don't go away," she cautioned, without giving him a chance to speak, 
 "for I shall want you again, in a very short time. You can consider yourself 
 engaged until relieved by my order." 
 
 The driver turned his back and walked to the carriage without sayiag a 
 word.
 
 84 
 
 When the two girls were alone, Moilie, with as few words as she could, ex- 
 plained everything. 
 
 Ida did not attempt to conceal her astonishment. 
 
 "If I had such a friend as Jim Parker is to you," she said, warmly, "I'd 
 not run away from him! I'd just throw myself into his arms and say to him, 
 'Jim, here I am, all yours! Take me, keep me, love me, and make me happy as 
 you can!' That's the kind of a girl I am, Moilie!" 
 
 "But I am not that kind, Ida! He has deceived me, threatened me, and I 
 am determined to avoid him, for a week or two at least, and learn him that ke 
 is not smart enough to fool me again, as he did last night. You have been my 
 friend through all the troubles of the past, and you will not desert me now, 
 dear. I know you won't !" 
 
 "I have promised, Moilie, to be a sister to you, and I will keep that prom- 
 iSe faithfully and truly; but at the same time I shall not feel bad if Jim Par- 
 ker makes good his threat! You deserve to be whipped, Moilie Trussell, for 
 the part you have taken in this romantic affair you know you had!" 
 
 She spoke chidingly.but pleasantly. 
 
 "Now to business!" exclaimed Moilie; "you know my friend, who felt so 
 badly at my coldness last night. Write him a note to come at once; that I 
 wish to see him and go with him to-night, that I am sorry for my rudeness, 
 and will repay, and more than repay that coldness, by the warmest reception 
 ever given by woman to her lover!" 
 
 The note was written almost exactly as it had been dictated by Irish Moi- 
 lie, and properly directed. Then the hackman was summoned. 
 
 "Can you read, my man ?" asked Moilie. 
 
 'A little bit, if it's writ good," said the man, avoiding the light as much as 
 he could. 
 
 "Do you think you can make that out ?" was the next question, as the note 
 was handed him. 
 
 "West Monroe street! Way out to Kucker ! That's a long drive, ma'am, 
 but I can find it. It's a dark night that I can't hunt up a house anywhere in- 
 side the limits. Any answer ?" 
 
 "You will know when you get there, and the gentleman reads what I have 
 written. He will probably come back with you. Be as quick as you can. 
 You will be well paid for all you trouble." 
 
 The man mounted to the driver's seat, and wa out of sight before the 
 girls closed the door. 
 
 Ida, in particular, looked after him with a strange, wondering, mysterious 
 expression in her face. She did not know why, but she mistrusted the mes- 
 senger who had been employed as the bearer of an important Document. She 
 discreetly kept her thoughts to herself, however, and without a word of sus- 
 picion returned to the parlor of Euth Thomas with her friend. 
 
 The reader will be interested in knowing the thoughts and acts of the 
 strange hackman. 
 
 "I'll know when I get there, will I? The gentleman will probably come 
 back with me, will he? Must be quick, must I ? She's in a hurry, is she? 
 I'll be well paid, will I ? Well, yes, 1 think I will be well paid! Better paid 
 than she imagines! They don't know I was at the window, and heard every 
 word they said! That girl Ida's a good one! She's a trump, she is ! I like her, 
 I do! Whoa-a-a!" 
 
 The horses were pulled up in front of a building on Randolph street, near 
 Clark, opposite the Museum. The driver mounted the stairway, entered a 
 room, locked the door after him, lit the gas, sat down at a table, and tore open 
 the notel
 
 85 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 The mysterious hackraan well knew the contents of the letter before he 
 tore it open. He had heard almost every word of the conversation between 
 the girls, and could imagine the wording of the note. He read it slowly, care- 
 fully, critically. Mollie and Ida might be in a hurry, but he was not. In fact, 
 he did not propose to drive over to Kucker street, nearly two miles away, when 
 it was just as easy, by clever forgery, to answer the little missive himself! 
 
 The reader may be curious to see the dainty note. It was well written, 
 with delicate shades and flourishes, and was worded as follows: 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND Partly to explain my seeming coldness and rudeness 
 of last night, but more particularly to ask of you a favor that will place me 
 under many obligations, I venture this bold manner of seeking an interview.' 
 I wish to see you on a matter of, to me, very great importance. Can you make 
 it convenient to come in the carriage driven by the bearer of this message ? 
 And can you arrange your Hffairs so as to remain away a few days ? If you can, 
 you don't know how well I shall be pleased; but by all means come to me at 
 once, and let me explain a matter that can be told better and plainer in the 
 way of conversation than by cold words, written on dreary paper. Please 
 come, my dear, good friend, and confer a lasting blessing on 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 MOLLIE TRUSSELL. 
 
 It would have puzzled a professional mind-reader to have penetrated the 
 brain of that hackman and interpreted his thoughts, as he sat with that open 
 letter before him. He smiled, but there was no merriment in his face. There 
 seemed to be a devil at work within him, plotting desperate schemes for the 
 accomplishment of some infernal purpose. If ever villain was written on any 
 man's brow, the word could be plainly seen stamped on the forehead of that 
 hackman, as for a third time he read the words of the note signed by Mollie 
 Trussell. 
 
 Who was he, anyway, and why had he selected as a victim a fair girl whose 
 troubles should have appealed to the sympathies of even a thief or a murderer ? 
 Was it chance, or was it a pre-concerted purpose, deliberately planned, and 
 then in process of being carried out ? Was he a robber ? Or, more plausible 
 of all, was he a relative of George Trussell ? a human blood-hound, tracking 
 to death the slayer of his kinsman ? The facts revealed further along in this 
 romance will divulge the story of that strange man, and explain the causes 
 that made him look, on that night of adventure and excitement, so like a 
 demon. 
 
 The hack-driver hesitated. His looks and actions told he was in doubt as 
 to what he would do. 
 
 "Affectionately!" he sneered, with a smile such as villians force when they 
 send a blade or a bullet into a victim's heart. 
 
 "She's an affectionate girl, she is! But I'm losing time. I must be back 
 to the North Side in just about an hour just the time it would take me to 
 drive over to the house where 'her dear friend' lives! Business is business to- 
 night, and I must get in my work quick!" 
 
 Something must have suggested itself, for he at once took paper, pen and 
 ink from a writing desk in the room, and wrote with great rapidity in a dash- 
 ing, business man's hand. 
 
 Was he a hackman V 
 
 Could a hackman dash off words on paper with as little effort as he did ? 
 No! 
 
 Would a hackman be liable to have a room fitted up with the extrava- 
 gance that this one was ? No! 
 
 Completing his literary work, he ran his eyes over it, and was pleased 
 with what he had done. The writing was as follows: 
 
 MY DEAR MOLLLE Your dear, kinc? note was received just as I was leav- 
 ing home this evening, and you may be assured that is was read with unusu- 
 al pleasure. I would respond in person immediately, and be most happy to do 
 so, but circumstances are such that a delay of a few hours is unavoidable. I 
 have invited a few gentlemen friends to go out riding with me this evening.
 
 86 
 
 They have accepted, and are now waiting for me at our club room. We shall 
 drive out to Downing's roadhouse in Bowman ville, but I shall try and get away 
 much earlier than was my original intention. I cannot possibly avoid this 
 necessary delay. I will certainly see you before the night is over probably 
 between 1 and 2 o'clock and I shall expect to be received in such a kind, affec- 
 tionate way that to tear myself away before noon the next day will be an im- 
 possibility. Believe me, the next few hours will have no pleasures for me. 
 After that, dear Mollie, I hope to be a happy man. Until then, dear one, good 
 bye. Faithfully, YOUR FRIEND. 
 
 The mysterious man folded it carefully, enclosed and addressed it, button- 
 ed up his coat, and mounting the hack drove leisurely to the house of Iluth 
 Thomas. 
 
 A ring brought Mollie to the door. She was nervous and excited anxious 
 to get away, and hide from the man she believed was, or would be, watching 
 her movements. 
 
 Mollie's face was all smiles when she opened the door; but the absence of 
 the friend she had expected soon drove them away. 
 
 "The young man told me to give you this," said the hackman, handing her 
 the letter he himself had written only a few minutes before. 
 
 She took the letter with disappointment. 
 
 "You saw him, then V" 
 
 "Course I did. He didn't hand me the letter through the key-hole!" 
 
 "Oh, yes why, of course, you must have seen him. You may wait on the 
 outside until I have read what he has sent me. Do not go away, for I shall 
 probably need your services further." 
 
 "All right, Miss, I'll wait as long as you wish all night, a week, a month, 
 if you say so." 
 
 "Very well, sir," she replied, coldly, as she hastened to the parlor where 
 she had left Ida Preston. 
 
 "Ida! for God's sake read this to me, quick! I'm dying to hear what he 
 says !" she exclaimed, placing the envelope in the hands of her friend. 
 
 Ida opened and read it. 
 
 Mollie Trussell was offended. 
 
 "I did not think he would let a trifling engagement keep him away," she 
 said, with some spirit; "I am sorry we sent him the note at all." 
 
 "The engagement was not so trifling as you suppose," said Ida, "and I do 
 not see how he could well avoid keeping it. He belongs to a club; has invited 
 a number of his companions to a ride, perhaps a supper and a dancing frolic. 
 You have been out to Downing's yourself. Mollie, and know what kind of a 
 place it is a resort for fast people. It is quite probable that there will be la- 
 dies in the party to-night, too, and I really can't imagine, under the circum- 
 stances, how he could get out of keeping his word. It would be unpardonable 
 to disappoint his friends that way. Your ntfte to him was a surprise, you 
 know. If he gets here as early as 2 o'clock, in my opinion you ought to con- 
 sider yourself as the recipient of a high compliment." 
 
 "Come to think of it that way, Ida, I guess you are right; but I can't wait 
 until even 10 o'clock!" 
 
 "Gracious, Mollie! are you so badly smitten as that? Are you really crazy 
 all of a sudden for this man's society ?" 
 
 "Xonsense Ida! You know better. I want to use him, nothing more. I 
 care nothing for him whatever. Indeed, I do not belieye I care as much for 
 him as I do for for well, I will say as for the hackman who brought me the 
 note!" 
 
 She emphasized these words why, she did not know. Both girls started! 
 Was it imagination, or did they hear a hoarse, chuckling laugh in the direction 
 of the window ? They listened intently, but all was still, save the rattle and 
 clatter of a passing carriage, and the incident passed without further thought. 
 
 "What shall I do, Ida?" questioned Mollie; "you are my friend, my sister, 
 my adviser tell me now, what to do, where to go, by what means I can avoid 
 meeting Jim Parker for the next week !" 
 
 "If you would take my advice you would not avoid him. replied Ida; "but 
 I know you will not listen to me if I talk that way, and so I won't say another 
 word. You are not afraid of him, are you, Mollie V"
 
 87 
 
 "In what way ?" asked Mollie. 
 
 "You are not afraid he would strike you, or injure you in any way?" 
 
 "Heavens I no! A thousand times no! I wish to God he would though!" 
 
 "Wish he would strike you ?" 
 
 "Yes! I would like to have him come through that door now with clench- 
 ed fists and beat me, and kick me, and drag me around the room by the hair of 
 the head, as as as George Trussell use to do!" 
 
 "Oh, Mollie! Why do you recall anything so dreadful ? Why would you 
 want a good friend to turn upon you that way?" 
 
 "I will tell you, Ida," said Moilie, placing her arms around her companion's 
 neck. 
 
 "Please do," was Ida's tender, affectionate appeal. 
 
 "It is because it would make me hate him!" 
 
 Ida shuddered. Turning her face so as to meet that of Mollies, she asked 
 earnestly: 
 
 "Mollie Trussell, do you love that man ?" 
 
 "Never ask me such a question again, Ida! I have sworn that I will never 
 love any man, and I repeat the oath now and here! I will tear from my heart 
 every tender feeling for any son of woman! I will crush with an iron will 
 any sentiment, anything that approaches love for mortal man! I will be a 
 man-hater as long as I live, so help me God and the Holy" 
 
 "Mollie, be careful!" 
 
 "Careful of what ?" 
 
 "Of committing a mortal sin ! We are bad girls, both of us outcasts 
 wantons prostitutes! The world despices us and scorns us! Society classes 
 us with the dogs of the street! But, Mollie, there is One who does not despise 
 us, who does not desert us, who does not banish us from His thoughts, who 
 does not take from us the hope of Heaven nor the prordise of His mercy! Be 
 careful that you do not offend that Friend, Mollie!" 
 
 The Irish girl was subdued as thoroughly as though she had been para- 
 lyzed with a blow. Like all others of hfir race, reverence for religion was 
 born in her, and nothing could wipe it out. The author of this romance never 
 saw an Irish girl so low that she could not be moved to almost abject submis- 
 sion by well-timed words of admonition from the lips of any one entitled to 
 respect. 
 
 "I did not mean anything wrong," explained Mollie, humbly. 
 
 "I know you did not, dear ; I merely spoke to caution you," replied Ida. 
 
 After a long silence the conversation was renewed. 
 
 "I believe you think more of Parker than you wish you did, Mollie," re- 
 marked Ida. 
 
 "I do not deny it." 
 
 "And you want to force yourself and him to be unhappy!" 
 
 "I want to keep away from him, and I want him to keep away from me. 
 As things now stand we are fighting a regular battle. He has not threatened 
 me with danger he could not, it is not in him to do that but he has declared 
 that he would win me, 'by fair means or by foul.' Those were his very words 
 to you, Ida. He has been fair so far, I must acknowledge he has been good 
 and noble but I can expect no mercy from this time to the end. I dare not 
 stay here. If he should come as Jim Parker, I could avoid him; but, when he 
 lias already deceived me so cleverly, how am I to know where or when or in 
 what shape to look for him ? You know the threat he made when he went 
 away this morning? Well, my defense must be secrecy and flight. I must 
 leave here within half an hour!" 
 
 "Have you any idea as to where you can go ?" asked Ida. 
 
 "I was thinking about that. Why not drive out to Downing's now, and 
 meet my new lover before he starts for home?" 
 
 "An excellent idea!" exclaimed Ida, who was getting to be quite excited 
 over and interested in the "battle," as Mollie called it. 
 
 It required but a few minutes to get ready. Mollie had no trouble in pre- 
 vailing upon Ida to go with her. It was romantic, and where is the girl who 
 would hesitate to embark in an adventure that gave promise of unusual and 
 exciting events ? 
 
 Let us go back to the mysterious hackman.
 
 88 
 
 As has probably been surmised, be did not go back to the carriage, when 
 the doors had been closed, and wait quietly and patiently, as drivers are ex- 
 pected to do. He wanted to know what the girls were saying, and had no 
 difficulty in finding out. The window was convenient, no one was watching 
 him, and few words escaped his ears. 
 
 The girls decided upon the very course he had anticipated. His scheme, 
 whatever it was, was working admirably. 
 
 Returning to the carriage, he gave a peculiar signal , and in less than a 
 minute a man came walking briskly along, and stopped in front of him. 
 
 "You are prompt, my friend," said the hackman, pleased that his confed- 
 erate had been so faithful. 
 
 "I was waiting for the signal," the man replied. 
 
 "What I want of you now is to go out to Downing's, as quick as you can 
 get there, and wait for me. You will not have to wait long. Take the single 
 buggy and the fast roadster. When you see me there don't recognize me un- 
 til we are alone. Then I will give you instructions." 
 
 "AH right, sir," was the reply, and the man was off. 
 
 Not a minute later, the two girls came from the house, and Irish Mollie 
 said: 
 
 "Driver, how long will it take you to draw us out to Downing's ?" 
 
 "Oh, 'bout an hour an' a half, I reckon." 
 
 "Well, you may drive us out there as quick as you can. We are in a hurry. 
 And one thing more. See that nobody follows us!" 
 
 "I pledge you my word nobody shall follow us. If they do, I shall take 
 pains to find out the reason why. Oh, no, ma'am; it's a dark night when any- 
 body can pipe me off, if I have a pointer to work on!" 
 
 "Oh, no, Miss Mollie/' chuckled the driver, after they had started, "there 
 isn't much danger of being followed, I guess. I guess there ain't anybody 
 wants to see you on any more particular business than a man I know of does! 
 It's a cold night, but there'll be thunder an' lightin' before mornin', or I'm no 
 good on guessin'." 
 
 The horses seemed to have caught the spirit that the occasion demanded, 
 the journey was over in surprisingly fast time. 
 
 The driver conducted his load to the VvHes' parlor, where he found the 
 laan he had sent before him. 
 
 "Jump onto the box and drive away my learn, &s though tho devil was af- 
 ter you!" he whispered. "I will take your place and your rig. We \vilJ change 
 coats and hats, and that will put them off the scent. Now, my friend to the 
 barn, and be lively!" 
 
 After Mollie and Ida had ordered wine and refreshments, and had thought 
 it rather strange that they had not seen nor heard of the party they expected 
 to meet, Mollie sent for the landlord. 
 
 "Is there a party of gentlemen here from the city, Mr. Downing? she 
 asked, with a dread or fear creeping over her that she could not keep back, 
 battle with her feelings as she would. 
 
 "There has been nobody here from the city to-day except ene gentleman, 
 and he is here now," was the reply. 
 
 The gentleman alluded to had been seen by them. He was an entire 
 
 fti" T"i3 T\ 0*PT* 
 
 "Perhaps they have not come yet. We will wait," said Mollie, but she 
 began to fear that something, she could not guess what, was wrong. Then, 
 hearing the sound of a retreating carriage, she asked: 
 
 "Who is it that is going away in that hack ?" 
 
 "That! Why, that's your own driver, and he's whippm' up the horses like 
 the very devil!" 
 
 "Therascall The traitor!" exclaimed Mollie, wild with passion and ex-
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 "What's the matter with that are driver?" exclaimed Mr. Downing, as the 
 carriage and its eccentric driver vanished in the distance; have ye paid him 
 for the job, and is he shell-roadin' ye ?" 
 
 "No, he has not been paid," said Ida, who did not seem to share in the ex- 
 citement, "and I presume he will be back soon. He certainly could have no 
 object in leaving us in this way. Perhaps he lost something on the way, and 
 has gone back to hunt for it:" 
 
 "It don't look much like a man hunting for anything; it seems to me as 
 though he is trying to make time, by the way he drives," was Downing's dry 
 response, as he looked curiously down the road. 
 
 "It does have that appearance," said Ida, wonderingly;and then she turned 
 to Mollie. 
 
 The Irish girl stood motionless, blank with amazement. She looked like 
 a stone statue. Her eyes were fixed in the direction of the city, as though 
 she were endeavoring to penetrate the darkness and overtake the fleeing hack- 
 man. 
 
 "What can be the meaning of this ?" asked Ida, approaching her. 
 
 "God knows I" was the vague, wondering reply. 
 
 Then, collecting her wandering, dazed thoughts, she exclaimed: 
 
 "Ida, we have been betrayed! There is treachery in this! That hackman 
 was employed to do this dirty work by an enemy! We are in danger! We 
 are far away from the city, far away from friends, and a great danger threatens 
 us!" 
 
 It was not fear that prompted these words, for Irish Mollie was no coward. 
 But where is the man or woman who would not quail before an unseen, mys- 
 terious, cowardly, snake-in-the-grass foe ? 
 
 Old man Downing heard the words of his fair guest, and they seemed to 
 touch a sensitive chord, for he spoke up promptly: 
 
 "You needn't worry yourselves, gals, about being molested when in my 
 house. Nobody has ever been robbed or murdered here, and nobody ever will 
 be as long as my name's on the door. So don't be troubled a bit, Maybe you 
 ean't get home to-night, but I'll send you in all right in the rnornin', and you'll 
 be none the worse for a snooze under the rafters and a little fresh country air. 
 You folks in the city need a little bracing up, now and then, and here's where 
 you can get it." 
 
 Neither Mollie nor Ida had paid any attention to the old man's assur- 
 ances. They were thinking trying to solve the mystery that had placed them 
 at the mercy, as they believed, of some unknown and invisible enemy. 
 
 The strange gentleman, who had heard everything, then stepped forward. 
 
 "I beg your pardon, ladies," he said, with great politeness and a slightly 
 foreign accent, "but from the conversation that I was forced to listen to I am 
 led to infer that you are in trouble of some kind. If I can be of any assist- 
 ance to you, in any way, I beg you to qommand me I am at your service." 
 
 He spoke like a gentleman. 
 
 Mollie had been "sizing him up." He was not bad looking, so far as could 
 be asaertained by lamp-light, and he was built in that compact moM that al- 
 ways signifies a muscular, athletic, powerful man. He had approached in 
 such a polite way that it pleased her, and the look of alarm and apprehension 
 on her face quickly made room for a smile. 
 
 "Thanks, sir," she replied; "it may be that my fears are foolish, and that 
 everything will turn out right. But if anything wrong should happen, I shall 
 be pleased to take advantage of your kind offer. Are you from the city, sir ?" 
 
 "Yes and no. I came from the city to-day, for a drive, but I do not be- 
 long there. I am a traveling man, and my home is wherever I may happen to 
 be. 
 
 Mollie was inclined to be "stuck" on this gallant free-and-easy man of the 
 world. Hia words and kis actions greatly pleased her. There was something 
 about him that fascinated her. 
 
 But what of Ida?
 
 91 
 
 She was not so easily captured as Mollie had been. She was more level- 
 headed than her companion. The stranger did not appear to her in the same 
 rose-colored light that he did to her companion. She suspected, doubted him. 
 
 Ida had the opportunity, without being rude, to use her keen eyes search- 
 ingly. He had directed his conversation to Mollie, thus giving her an oppor- 
 tunity to study him with no possible chance of giving offense. Her verdict 
 was given instantly, notwithstanding his words; it was unfavorable! 
 
 Suddenly, a strange light gleamed in her eyes, and a surprised look flitted 
 over her face. 
 
 Mollie and the stranger had entered into quiet, easy conversation, just as 
 men and women of their class always do. Their acquaintanceship had reach- 
 ed a long distance for so short a time, he having already invited herself and 
 friend to take supper with him just as Ida's strange, suspicious looks had denot- 
 ed peculiar thoughts. 
 
 "I shall have to consult my companion," answered Mollie to the invitation 
 alluded to;" if she consents, I am certain I can see no objection. What say 
 you, Ida ? Shall we accept the gentleman's kind offer to take supper with him ?" 
 
 Ida did not hesitate a second. "Willingly, thankfully," she replied, with a 
 smile. 
 
 The gentleman then left the parlor to hunt for Downing, who had shuffled 
 himself away, and ordered the best supper the place afforded. 
 
 As soon as he had gone Ida said: 
 
 "Mollie, I want to ask a favor of you. Will you grant it ?" 
 
 "Certainly. What is it ?" 
 
 "When that man comes back I want you to leave the room five minutes. I 
 want to be with him alone that length of time." 
 
 "Oh, Ida! Can't you let me have him? Can't you see we're mashed on 
 each other?" 
 
 "Nonsense, Mollie! You don't know what you are talking about. After 
 I have had a talk with him, alone, five minutes, you can have him all to your- 
 self for five hours, if you want him." 
 
 Mollie's curiosity was excited. She couldn't imagine what Ida could pos- 
 sibly want to talk to the strange gentleman about, unless it was to make an 
 effort to capture his attentions for herself. But she had no chance for further 
 talk on that topic, for the subject of discussion had again entered the parlor. 
 
 "I must go, I suppose," thought Mollie, with a sigh that was.not so serious 
 as it might be; and then, with the usual plea to be excused for a moment, she 
 went out. 
 
 As soon as she had gone Ida with a quick spring reached the side of the 
 stranger, seized him by the collar, and whispered, sternly: 
 
 "Scoundrel! I know you!" 
 
 The man did not seem to be in the least surprised. 
 
 "1 was aware, Ida, that you recognized me," he said, complacently, but I 
 never dreamed before that you considered me a scoundrel!" 
 
 "You seem to take it mighty cool, Jim." 
 
 "That's the only sensible way to take anything, was the reply. 
 
 "I can read you like a book, Jim Parker this is all your work! 
 
 "It is!" 
 
 "You drove us out here !" 
 
 "I did!" 
 
 "You have been shadowing Mollie for two days! 
 
 "I have!" 
 
 "You mean mischief! You are looking for revenge! 
 
 "No! You wrong me there; Ida, as G9d is my judge I love Irish Mollie 
 with all my heart and soul, and were she in real danger I would take my 
 death defending her to-night!" 
 
 He was an eloquent talker. 
 
 Ida believed him, trusted him. 
 
 The five minutes were up! 
 
 Mollie was returning! 
 
 Pulling Parker towards her Ida whispered, "go on with your masquerade! 
 I will not betray you .'"
 
 92 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Jim Parker, though he had not expected to find in Ida Preston an enemy, 
 was not prepared for such a quick decision in his favor. He had expected to 
 have to argue the matter with her, at any rate, if she had not already made 
 known the discovery of his identity to her companion and friend. When, 
 therefore, without one word of solicitation on his part, she whispered to him, 
 "go on with your masquerade, I will not betray you," the young man who could 
 control himself with such wonderful nerve was so surprised that Irish Mollie, 
 as she entered .the room, saw from the flush on his face that something un- 
 tisual had happened that exciting words had been exchanged between Ida 
 Preston and the gallant, handsome stranger. 
 
 Mollie looked at one and then at the other, and smiled. 
 
 There was guilt written plainly on both their faces. 
 
 The reader knows what caused that look, but Mollie did not know it, and 
 at once, as most anybody would have done, concluded that there was a clear 
 case of love at first sight, and that an agreement of some kind had been made 
 during her absence from the room. 
 
 She was not offended, though. The man was nothing to her no man, for 
 that matter, was anything to the woman whose love had been lavished on and 
 was buried with the body of the gambler she had killed. 
 
 Parker for the mysterious hackman and the polite gentleman at the 
 roadhouse was none other than Jim Parker in disguise advanced to where 
 Mollie stood smilingly. He had entirely recovered his composure, and depend- 
 ed on his ready wit to extricate himself and Ida from the suspicions that had 
 found their way to the brain of the woman they had conspired against. 
 
 "I have just discovered that your friend is an old acquaintance of mine," 
 ke said; "we have known each other for a long time." 
 
 "Yes," chimed in Ida. "I thought I recognized the gentleman when we 
 first came here I was almost sure I knew him and I was never so pleased in 
 all my life as I was when I found that I was not mistaken that I had acci- 
 dentally, providentially, rather, met MY OWN DEAR CHARLIE!" 
 
 She advanced, threw her arms around the astounded man, and forced him 
 to embrace her! 
 
 This was another surprise for Jim Parker, and he blushed. 
 
 Ida was playing a part, but not the part he had cast her for in that comedy. 
 He did not come there to make love to her, and at the very moment when her 
 head was resting so lovingly on his breast, he heartily wished her a thousand 
 miles away. 
 
 Mollie was delighted. 
 
 "I am glad, oh, so glad we have found a friend!" she exclaimed, joyously; 
 "you will stand by us, defend us, protect us, won't you, Charley V" 
 
 She had taken him by the hand with both of hers, and looked trustingly 
 into his face. 
 
 'Madam," he said, "you need have no fear. You shall not be harmed." 
 
 "Call me Mollie, please, and tell me that again ' Do you know that I like 
 you ? Why, I never saw you before, Charley, but something said to me, trust 
 him, the minute you came into the room, and I really believe you would not 
 allow that villain to harm us, even if you was not Ida's old friend!" 
 
 "Mollie I call you Mollie because you have been kind enough to give me 
 permission if Ida were not here, and you were alone, and danger threatened 
 you, I would stand between you and that danger, and no one should harm you 
 without first walking over my dead body!" --a*^ 
 
 "That's the kind of friend I have!" exclaimed Ida, clapping her hands ap- 
 provingly, and pulling Parker into another close embrace. 4 ' " 
 
 "And that's the kind of friend I should like to have!" said Mollie, looking 
 the admiration she fait for the hero who stood before her. 
 
 "Are you speakii./ the truth, Mollie?" asked Ida, seriously. 
 
 "Yes! ' the Irish beauty responded, enthusiastically; "If ever I hare a 
 friend; if ever I have a lover; if ever I love a man, he must be as brave and 
 chivalrous as your friend Charley!" 
 
 Ida glided gently to the side of Jier companion, and in a low voice said:
 
 93 
 
 "Mollie, you have a better friend than this man is to me." 
 
 "You mean Jim ?" 
 
 "You have guessed." 
 
 "He was jay friend, Ida, but I doubt him, I fear him now! Did you never 
 hear of a love that, rejected and scorned, turned to hate? I believe he hates 
 me now. I believe, I am certain, that he is in some way connected with this 
 treacherous plot against us, and that there will be trouble for us, before we 
 leave this place, that we do not dream of!" 
 
 Ida did not share in this fear; but had she known what the next few hours 
 would reveal, she, too, would have trembled aiid turned pale with apprehen- 
 sion! 
 
 "After all that Parker has suffered for you, after all that ho has done for 
 you, do you really believe in your heart that he would harm you ?" 
 
 "Perhaps" and the girl shuddered at her own words "perhaps, Ida, he is 
 INSANE! If he is, his madness will be my death! If I knew he was in his right 
 mind, I should pray for his presence in the moment of peril! He would be 
 the last man to lift a finger against any woman!" 
 
 Parker had overheard all that was said. To say that Mollie's confidence 
 in his manhood pleased him is but to faintly picture his thoughts. 
 
 "You are alarming yourself without cause," was Ida's response to the 
 dreadful words of her friend; "Jim Parker is not one of the kind wn% lose 
 their senses on account of trouble. He is not near so crazy as you are now. I 
 rather thimk he has had something to do with our desertion, and if he has I do 
 not blame him. You heard his threats. If he should come out here to-night, 
 and carry you away forcibly, I would not blame him a bit; it would serve you 
 jUst right; and I don't know but I'd help him do it, too, you ungrateful girl!" 
 
 "Do you think it is really Jim Parker who has put up this job ?" 
 
 Mollie's voice wavered between doubt and fear. 
 
 "I don't think anything about it I know it." 
 
 Jim Parker, when he heard these words, was troubled. It looked as 
 though Ida was going to "give him away," notwithstanding her marked prom- 
 ise not to do so. 
 
 "How do you know it, Ida ? Have you seen him since we came here ?" 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 Parker turned his back. He was agitated beysnd the power of control. 
 Ida had betrayed him! 
 
 "Where did you see him ? Where is he?" Mollie asked, nervously, ex- 
 citedly. 
 
 "Mollie," replied Ida, with great emphasis, without casting a single glance 
 in the direction of Parker, "Jim Parker was t'.ie driver of the carnage that 
 brought us here, and he is much nearer to us now than you suspect!" 
 
 Parker was more hopeful. Perhaps she would not unmask him after all. 
 
 "Are you sure of what you say ?" 
 
 Mollie was intensely interested. 
 
 "I am so sure that I would swear to it. I know it, Mollie. In fact, I saw 
 him, talked to him, and he acknowledged to me that he was Jim Parker!" 
 
 "I am amazed!" was all that Mollie could say at first, but she quickly re- 
 covered possession of all her senses. 
 
 "It is strange that yon did not tell me of this before," she continued, with 
 a trifle of coldness in her voice. 
 
 "I promised him that I would not, Mollie, and I relied on your good nature 
 and good heart for forgiveness. If there was the slightest danger to be ap- 
 prehended from Jim Parker, you may be sure I would conceal nothing from 
 you. But there is not. You may see him again before morning, Mollie, but 
 not as an enemy. He has been masquerading, and has got the best of Irish 
 Mollie, and I give him credit for it. But^ don't be alarmed; where love 
 rules a man's actions, violence is impossible." 
 
 Mollie was mad, but not malignant. It was galling to be outwitted as 
 cleverly as she had been, but that very fact placed Jim Parker a notch higher 
 in her estimation. She admired his audacity, and the skill with which he had 
 worked his scheme. But what would be his next move ? 
 
 Just as the thought was worrying her brain, the "strange gentleman, 
 "Ida's friend," "Charley," advanced, smilingly, with the easy politeness ot a 
 perfect gentleman.
 
 94 
 
 It was a strange incident Parker was there, coming towards her, and she 
 at the same moment, with her eyes on him, wondering what "his next move" 
 would be! 
 
 "I trust, ladies, you are not alarmed or annoyed by fears of some possible 
 danger V 
 
 "Oh, no, Charley, we would be foolish to let such troubles bother us while 
 you are here to protect us," said Ida, with a meaning glance. 
 
 'For my part," said Mollie, "I have dismissed all thoughts that were disa- 
 greeable from my mind. Whatever is to come will come anyway, and we will 
 have to meet it and fight it; in the meantime, let us enjoy ourselves as well as 
 we can. Do you know, Charley, that I am real sorry you are Ida's friend ? She 
 isn't half as lonesome and downhearted as I am, and don't need a friend at 
 all she's got plenty of 'em while I, poor thing, am left out in the cold world, 
 with no one to love, no one to caress. Don't you think it's too bad, Charley ?" 
 
 "It is really a shame," he replied, with mock-sympathy, "and it will not be 
 my fault if another complaint of that kind is made. You have made a slight 
 mistake, Miss Mollie, in ranking myself and Miss Ida as lovers. She will tell 
 you that we were never other than good friends. In fact, she gave me to un- 
 derstand, long ago, that I was a good fellow, and she liked me, but I must 
 keep .my distance, and I have done so. Is not that true, Ida?" 
 
 It was not true. He had never made any advances whatever. But Ida 
 was not scrupulous. She could tell a lie, and did. 
 
 rt My friend is right," she replied, without hesitation; "I did not think 
 enough of him to give my old lover the shake, and thought too much of him 
 to play him for a sucker, and that left us friends no more!" 
 
 "I am glad of that! Will you be my friend, Charley ?" 
 
 "I will be your good friend, your loyal lorer!" 
 
 "Will you right for me?" 
 
 "Try me!" 
 
 "I will!" 
 
 "Supper is ready." 
 
 These were the words that cut short a conversation that was becoming 
 extremely interesting. 
 
 Mollie took Parker's right arm and Ida the left, and they marched merrily 
 to one of those substantial feasts for which Downing was at that time famous. 
 Wine was ordered and drank freely, and the meal was heartily enjoyed by all. 
 
 Mollie seemed to have no thoughts beyond the passing hour she had 
 forgotten the threat of the lover she had rejected, his plot to kidnap her, his 
 mysterious disappearance, and the probability of his action in what shape 
 she could hardly guess that very night. Her new lover was so assiduous in 
 his attentions, so anxious to please her, so fascinating in his speech and man- 
 ners, that she was wrapped up in him as she had never been, with one excep- 
 tion, before. 
 
 The hours sped rapidly on. They always do when pleasure rules. It was 
 12 o'clock before any of them could realize that it was as late as 10. 
 
 After a moment of silence Moliie whispered to Ida, "He has not come yet; 
 it is late; do you think he has given up the battle? Do you think he will be 
 heard from again to-night ?" 
 
 "I do not believe you will be disturbed or annoyed before morning," was 
 the reply; and Ida glanced wickedly at Parker, who had overheard what had 
 been said in an undertone. 
 
 "She shall have a diamond ring for the part she has played to-night, God 
 bless her!" thought Parker, but he was careful not to think aloud. 
 
 That which followed may be referred to briefly. The men and women 
 who read this romance are in most cases familiar with such scenes as that 
 which took place that night in Downing's dining room. They feasted, drank, 
 smoked, and indulged in pleasant, easy conversation appropriate to the occa- 
 sion. When all was over, and the time came when even night-hawks and 
 revelers begin to think of sleep and rest, it will leave little to the reader's im- 
 agination if he draws a curtain as we do here. 
 
 ********** 
 
 "Murder! Help! help! help!!"
 
 Ida Preston awoke, startled M eh had not been before in along time 
 
 She was alone. 
 
 A stillness like that of death and the grave followed. 
 
 Then she heard a man's voice. 
 
 It sounded hoarse, harsh, horrible. 
 
 A pistol shot followed. 
 
 Then again came a faint cry, sounding as though it was the last gas^ of a 
 dying woman. 
 
 "HELP!" 
 
 "My God! he is murdering her!" shrieked Ida, springing from her bed in 
 wild alarm. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 The situation Jim Parker found himself in, after the feast at Downing's 
 was over, was a most strange and novel one. He was so cleverly disguised 
 that Mollie had not the most remote suspicion of his identity. In pursuance 
 of her determination to again join the ranks of the fast fraternity, she had 
 accepted the advances of the man who had (as she believed) so unselfishly vol- 
 unteered to defend her from any threatened danger. What were his feelings? 
 Why, he had won the battle! Irish Mollie was his! There was no fear of re- 
 cognition. No power on earth could step between him and the gratification of 
 his wishes. 
 
 Yet the man hesitated. 
 
 Should he throw off his disguise, fall at her feet, and beg of her to receive 
 him to her arms and heart ? 
 
 "Xo! I have fought hard for this triumph, and I will not prolong the bat- 
 tle! I will take no more chances 1 When daylight comes, and Irish Mollie, re- 
 clining in these arms, opens her beautiful eyes, they will rest upon her old 
 lover and her tried friend, Jim Parker! Then let the storm come I can stand 
 it!" 
 
 These were the thoughts that ran through the busy brain of Parker, after 
 the door had been locked and he found himself in the same room with the wo- 
 man he loved, The decision lie had arrived at was irrevocable. He would as- 
 tonish her in the morning, and then face the music. Turning to his fair com- 
 panion, he said: 
 
 "We can. both consider ourselves fortunate in meeting as we have done on 
 my part, in finding such a lovely companion; on yours, in meeting with a pro- 
 tector on \vhose strong arm you could rely in case of necessity. But it seems 
 that your alarm was groundless. The enemy you feared did not make an ap- 
 pearance." 
 
 Mollie shuddered in spite of an effort to control herself. 
 
 "Do you think it impossible for a surprise before before we retire?" 
 
 Courtesan that she was she blushed. 
 
 "Perhaps it is not impossible," Jim replied, "but it is highly improbable; 
 and in order to make it pleasant for any night prowlers who may haunt this 
 house, I will place these where they will be ready and handy for speedy use in 
 case of necessity." 
 
 He took a brace of ugly looking derringers from his pocket and laid them 
 on the table that stood near the bed. 
 
 Irish Mollie, greatly agitated, clutched hi* arm. 
 
 "You would not use those?" she asked, nervously. 
 
 "Oh, no, I wouldn't; I would lie still and let robbers and cut-throats break 
 in and do as they pleased !" 
 
 "But there are no robbers here; there is no danger put them up, please I 
 am afraid of them since " 
 
 She did not complete the sentence. 
 
 A pang shot through her heart. 
 
 "If it will please you I will put them out of sight," he said, with a tone of 
 sympathy in. his voice.
 
 96 
 
 He placed them under a pillow of the bed. 
 
 Mollie looked on, and sighed. 
 
 She remembered that it was a pistol that had caused the great trouble and 
 sorrow of her life. 
 
 Ten minutes from that time the light was turned low down. 
 
 "Mollie I any darling!" 
 
 The words escaped the lips of Jim Parker, but the kisses that would have 
 been hers were not given, for a grating sound was heard at the window, and 
 the next instant the sash was raised! 
 
 A man's figure was plainly outlined in the window a large, powerful- 
 built man. 
 
 It seemed but a second from the time of the alarm before the strange visitor 
 was in the room. 
 
 Jim 'Parker, with a deadly weapon in each hand, sprang from the bed, and 
 Mollie as quickly sprang after him, with the cries that, as recorded in the last 
 chapter, had alarmed Ida Preston. 
 
 "Scoundrel! take that!" exclaimed Parker, aiming one of the Derringers 
 direct at the brest of the burglar, and pulling the trigger. 
 
 Mollie Trussell quicker than thought caught his arm, and the bullet lodged 
 in the ceiling instead of the bold intruder's heart. 
 
 "You shall not kill that man ! Fly, Jim, for God's sake fly!" she shrieked, 
 madly endeavoring lo place her body between the two men! 
 
 The burglar for it was a burglar did make an effort to escape. Bushing 
 back to the window, he succeeded in gaining the outside. 
 
 Jim Parker, with the exercise of all his strength, threw Mollie from him, 
 and, taking deliberate aim, fired at the retreating man. 
 
 His hands flew wildly in the air, and with a groan he fell to the ground. 
 
 "Murderer!" cried Mollie, fiercely, "You have killed the best and only friend 
 I had in the world!" 
 
 Concentrating all her strength, she struck Parker a powerful blow in the 
 face. Then jumping like a cat through the window, she flew to the wounded 
 man, knelt beside his prostrate body, raised his head to her knees, kissed him 
 passionately upon his lips, and with agony in her voice exclaimed: 
 
 "Oh, Jim! I tried to save you, but I could not! Would to God that it was 
 me that was shot, instead of you, oh, my own good, true, noble friend my 
 darling!" 
 
 Again she kissed him! 
 
 "Speak! Say that you are not killed! Say that, you are only a little hurt 
 scratched stunned anything but killed anyt!..ng but killed! Oh, God! I 
 cannot live without you! I cannot live unless you do!" 
 
 In pressing the man's hand to hers, she found a cocked revolverl 
 
 Quicker than lightning she grasped the weapon, and turned I 
 
 Jim Parker was standing with arms folded, his heart beating wildly with 
 a great joy! 
 
 She knew it not, knew him not! 
 
 Leveling the revolver, she shrieked: 
 
 "You have murdered my soul's idol, and now, monster, I will avenge his 
 death!" 
 
 A startling report followed, and Jim Parker bounded into the air and fell 
 heavily to the grou-nd! 
 
 Long before Jim Parker could leaTe the house where he had been nursed 
 back to life and strength, he read in all the daily papers that Irish Mollie had 
 sailed from New York to San Francisco. He was pained, but not surprised. 
 As may be conjectured, he determined to follow her at the earliest possible 
 date; and, in compliance with this resolution, three weeks later found him a 
 passenger on an Atlantic steamer, ploughing the seas in the direction of the 
 Golden shores. Arrived at San Francisco, he found Irish Mollie to be already 
 quite a famous character, she having established herself in a house located in a 
 low neighborhood, on a thoroughfare known as Edina place. He went there 
 with no attempt at disguise, determined to confront the Irish girl boldly, and
 
 97 
 
 plead with her to leave her sinful associates and go and be with him through 
 the years to come. He was amazed when he - 1 found that the Irish Mollie he had 
 traveled so far to find was a fraud. She acknowledged to him the deception, 
 and explained all that she knew concerning the parties who had hired her to 
 simulate one whose notoriety was world-wide. Parker could not untangle the 
 web of mystery, but a great peace came to his mind, and his heart was relieved 
 of a sorrow that had made it heavy with grief. He believed that everything 
 would turn out happily in the end, and that Irish Mollie would yet prove her- 
 self to be as noble in mind as she was lovely in all that constitutes physical 
 beauty. 
 
 Returning to Chicago, he waited patiently for the developments he was 
 certain the future would reveal. He saw Ida, Preston frequently, but she denied 
 all knowledge of Mollie, and declared that she had never seen her since the 
 night after the shooting affair at Bowmanville, when they returned to the city 
 together! 
 
 Two years and a half passed, and still Jim Parker had heard not a word 
 from the woman he would have given all his earthly possessions to see. 
 
 On one bright, beautiful spring morning Ida visited him at his hotel. 
 
 ' ' Mr. Parker, ' ' she said, ' ' I have a favor to ask of you. ' ' 
 
 "It is granted before it is named, ' ' was his impulsive reply. 
 
 ' ' I am not so sure of that, ' ' she returned ; ' ' wait until you learn what it is 
 that I would ask you. ' ' 
 
 "Ida Preston," he said, his eyes moistening with tears, "there is nothing in 
 the world in the way of a favor that you could ask that I would not willingly 
 grant you. I can never forget the friendship and true devotion that you felt 
 for Irish Mollie when she was in trouble, and the many sacrifices you made to 
 befriend her. Any friend of Mollie God bless her! shall I ever see her dear 
 face again? must be a friend of mine! What can I do for you to-day, Ida?" 
 
 "Oh, I was feeling ever so dull and lonely this bright and beautiful morn- 
 ing, and I thought it would give me great pleasure if some kind friend would 
 take me out for a drive. Am I asking too much, Mr. Parker?" 
 
 ' ' You could ask for nothing that would give me more pleasure to grant, ' ' he 
 replied, and an open carriage was at once ordered. 
 
 "Now, then, where shall we go?" he asked, after they had been seated, and 
 the driver was awaiting orders. 
 
 The girl hesitated. 
 
 ' < I I do not particularly care, ' ' she said, ' ' but if you have no objections we 
 will drive out as far as Mr. Downing 's hotel and have dinner. ' ' 
 
 "Downing 'si My God, Ida, why do you wish to go there? I have never seen 
 the place since that dreadful night! But if it is your wish I have no objection. 
 You know you acted as my friend there, that night, and I shall never forget 
 you for it. ' ' 
 
 The order was given, and to Downing 's they went, and were soon se:it.c i d 
 in the same parlor where such a strange scene had been acted more than two 
 years and a half before. 
 
 Parker ordered a substantial dinner for two. 
 
 "Make it three," ventured Ida; "don't you think the poor driver will need 
 refreshments when we are satisfied?" 
 
 Parker coincided in her views, and the order for three dinners was given. 
 
 Ida then excused herself for a moment, and left the room. Jim Parker 
 strolled to the front of the hotel, to enjoy the warm sun and the refreshing 
 spring breeze. 
 
 When he returned Ida was in the parlor, as also was another lady, whose 
 face was turned from him, and who appeared to be a stranger. 
 
 "You remember well the time we were once before this waiting for a meal 
 in this room, don't you, Jim?" 
 
 Old recollections made Ida's voice tremble perceptibly as she said this. 
 
 "Eemember it? Will I ever forget it? But, Ida, we were not alone then, as 
 we are now. The woman that I loved then, that I had loved for years, and 
 that I love now as madly as the first day I saw her the beautiful Irish Mollie 
 was with us then. Oh, God in heaven ! if she were only here now, Ida ! ' '
 
 98 
 
 lie faced Ida as he spoke, and tears were in his eyes, so powerful was his 
 emotion. 
 
 Kven as he spoke, the strange woman had advanced from behind, and 
 before he could comprehend her actions her arms were about his neck ! 
 
 The man started, as though to free himself from some forward woman's 
 familiarities. 
 
 Then for the first time he saw her face. The woman was smiling through 
 her tears, and again held out her arms! 
 
 "At last! thank God, at -last!" he exclaimed, as MOLLIE TRUSSELL FELL 
 
 INTO HIS OUTSTRETCHED ARMS ! 
 
 Only a few words, and our story is complete. The romantic plot conceived 
 by Irish Mollie as she lay upon the straw in the cowshed loft succeeded better 
 than she had dared to hope. She disposed of all her diamonds, through her 
 friend Ida, and with the money carried out every detail, just as 'she had planned 
 it. Then, retiring to a small interior city, she found a quiet home, and for more 
 than two years studied as faithfully as any woman could to acquire that knowl- 
 edge without which no woman can move in the society of ladies. Her progress 
 was wonderful. At the end of two years she was regarded as almost any 
 woman's equal in the attainments that befit an accomplished lady. She had lost 
 two years of life, but what had she gained? Something that life would be 
 worthless without! 
 
 In all that time, Ida Preston had been her confidential friend and correspon- 
 dent. She knew all about Parker's visit to California, "and was informed regu- 
 larly concerning his great solicitude regarding her whereabouts and her wel- 
 fare. Her heart ached to relieve his anxiety, but she had vowed that When 
 Jim Parker looked upon her again he should see a lady, and that vow could 
 not be broken. She knew that Parker had faith in seeing her at last and prob- 
 ably that knowledge did much to aid her in her noble resolution. 
 
 The dinner at Downing 's that had been ordered for "the driver" was eaten 
 with relish by the woman who was made Mrs. James Parker that evening, at 
 that place. The ever-thoughtful Ida had secured both a license and a clergy- 
 man, preparatory to the happy ceremony. She was somewhat interested in 
 the affair herself, for Irish Mollie had made her promise to abandon "evil ways 
 and companionships, and become her sister in the home that was henceforth to 
 be one of love and happiness. 
 
 The marriage ceremony took place in the early evening Ida Preston and 
 the aged Mr. and Mrs. Downing being the only witnesses the Dowuiugs being 
 in entire ignorance of the identity of any of the party. 
 
 That night Jim Parker and his wife occupird the same room that had been 
 the scene of bloodshed and terror many months before; but there was no decep- 
 tion this time, no Derringers were concealed under the pillows, and no burglars 
 disturbed their slumber. 
 
 Jim Parker settled up his business affairs as speedily as possible. Mrs. 
 Parker Irish Mollie no more was not recognized previous to their depar-* 
 ture for a new home in a distant city, accompanied by the faithful Ida Preston, 
 who not long afterwards found herself in the toils of love, and married a busi- 
 ness, man of promise and worth. 
 
 Many years have elapsed since these events, but to the writer they seem 
 only a day. Happy in the love of her noble husband, marvelously beautiful 
 still, surrounded by a family of bright children, the eldest now a young woman 
 grdNvn, there is not now in all this broad land a more contented wife and mother 
 than the woman who was once known in Chicago as IRISH MOLLIE, THE COUR- 
 TESAN QUEEN! 
 
 [THE END.]
 
 CO 
 
 CO 
 
 /" 
 
 H 
 
 K 
 
 &* 
 
 t/) 
 
 
 .Jj 
 
 3 
 O 
 > 
 
 +J 
 4) 
 
 a 
 
 > 
 
 Z 
 
 
 
 H 
 
 a 
 
 o 
 
 ^ 
 
 O 
 
 ^ 
 
 , ^ 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
 <^ *2 
 
 >s -^ 
 
 >w <i> ~ 
 
 E ^ 
 ^ s 
 
 K <3 
 
 ll- 
 
 <i 
 
 k 
 
 
 2 
 
 s ^ 
 
 s 
 
 >s> ^> 
 ^* ' '^ 
 ^ **** 
 
 ^^ 
 
 *VA S* 
 
 Ni ^ 
 
 fSi ^ 
 
 ' Vj 
 ^ ^ 
 
 O <^ 
 
 i*
 
 Gee, "'. " lynoids' Famous Queen Elizabeth Series 
 
 . 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 5oc. Each. Set of three for one dollar. 
 
 No. 1 The Mysteries of the Court of Queen 
 Elizabeth 
 
 3 Ada Arundel, or the Secret Corridor 
 3 Olivia, or the Maid of Honor 
 
 INTERESTING EXCITING, ACCURATE, 
 
 AN acknowledged masterpiece in literature. 
 It deals with one of the most important and re- 
 markable periods of British history in the six- 
 teenth century. The scene of the story is at 
 Whitehall, the home of the Queen under whose 
 roof were perpetrated some of the most diabolical 
 Oots recorded in history. To accomplish her 
 >urpose she has men and women entombed in her 
 Astle dungeon until their reason leaves them. 
 Any person who stood in her way fo love and 
 pleasure she finds means to put out of the 
 way. The story is replete with thrilling scenes 
 between the Queen and her courtiers and the 
 diiTViviit princes and princesses of the castle. A. 
 most interesting tate of royal life as it existed ia 
 the sixteenth century. Interesting from the first 
 to the last page. 
 
 These Three Books Sent Securely Sealed, Charges all Paid, 
 
 for $1.00. 
 
 Addres* all orders to GARDEN CITY BOOK CO., 350 State 
 
 Chicago. III.