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E JAYSTERY//< =f FLANDRINOF «
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BY FRED WHISHAW F
COPYRIGHT 1899; BY THE AMERICAN PRESS ASSOCIATION:
}
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Yont'nued) SYNOPSIS.
The hero of this story.Boris Landrinoff, savyoung Russ ax, who wae sent to Enog~ | and to fhe duc ated. He is Lastly Sul; moned home by his mother owing to the sudden d sappearance of bis father Coun Lai ne Shoruy after, in London, he sas'conistied whena frend tella him he |
- juts bis father, Accompauied by
a fr he returns to Russia. Boris ecovers a Clne,and seteont in search of
iwo me who have as be supposes ab-
C.ea G18 tather.
CHAPTER VIIL IDENTIFIED BY PHOTOGRAPH.
It was but a few hours after the re- ceipt of Percy’s first telegram that a second message arrived. Percy now wired that he had succeeded in discov- ering ‘‘Robinson’s address,’’ which we were not slow to understand was in- tended to intimate that he had tracked father or his double—whichever it was —to some house in which he lived. Percy’s telegram finished up with the words ‘‘starting back tonight.’’ So that in three days we should know all that
ae had to tell us.
These three days were passed—by me at least—in a condition of suspense and anxiety difficult to be borne. f could settle down to nothing; neithet did our little detective display any marked degree of dignified calm. He was greatly excited, and we sp2nt the time together in playing billiards at heme and discussing at great length aud with much vain repetition the
| chances for and against the success of
Percy’s efforts. Borofsky was, though much excited, quite sanguine and al- most confident that for some inexplica- ble reason my poor father had fied to London without warning mother of his departure and that Percy had acci- dentally found him there. He would not discuss the question as to why fa- ther shonid have donethis. There would be plenty of time for explanations, he said, afterward. The main point now was to make sure that the ccunt was safe and well and to know where to find him at any moment. It might not even be necessary to bring him back at once should he have good reason to de- sire to remain away. There might be financial troubles or a quarrel with the authorities.
‘‘Both utterly impossible, Borof- sky!’’ I said. ‘‘My father isa rich man, and the authorities from the lowest chipovnik tothe czar respect and esteem him.”’
‘*My dear young sir,’’ said Borofsky. *“‘neither you nor I can see in the dark. Rather than grope about and knock bis shins against the furniture the wise man will wait for light, and so will we!’ ;
We had not mentioned to mother the object cf Percy’s trip to London. She had naturally concluded that he had business of his own to attend to, and was nieased and grateful when he vrom-
a a ae There is + e oe implanted in every man 4 love of life
strong enough to make him tremble and kneel before death when he thoroughly rec- ognizes its ap-
proach. The trouble with men is that
they do not rec- ognize death unless it comes ; in some violent ~ or rapid form.
tw Consumption
y
a /
- ——F4
kills more men than wars, fam- ines, plagues and accidents, but its approach is insidious, and men do not realize that they are in its clutch. While consumption is a germ disease, the bacilli will mot in- vade sound and healthy lungs. The lungs must first be in a diseased condition.
First a man feels a little out of sorts. Probably he is overworked and has given too little time to eating, sleeping and rest- ing. His appetite falls off. His digestion gets out of order and his blood does not receive the proper amount of life-giving nutriment. The liver becomes torpid and the blood is filled with impurities. These are pumped into every organ of the body, building up unhealthy, half-dead tissues. The most harm is done at the weakest spot, and most frequently that spot is in the lunes. A slight cold leads to inflamma- tion, the bacilli invade the lungs and we have a case of consumption.
Ninety-eight per cent. of all cases of consumption are cured by Dr. Pierce’s Golden Medical Discovery. It is the great blood-maker and flesh-builder. It restores the lost appetite, makes the digestion per- fect, imvigorates the liver, purifies the blood, builds new and healthy flesh and drives out all impurities and disease germs. It cures weak lungs, spitting of blood, cbsti- nate coughs and kindred ailments. No hon- est druggist will recommend a substitute.
Mrs. Ursula Dunham, of Sistersville, Tyler Co., W. Va., writes: “I hada pain in my side all the time, had but little appetite and grew very thin. The ‘Golden Medical Discovery’ promptly cured the pain, restored my appetite and im- creased my weight.”’
|
| ised her, at parting, that he would not
be absent long and would return to help me in my discouraging task of finding father so soon as ever he could get away. We met Percy on the afternoon
| of the third day, and as Borofsky and I
tramped the platform of the Warsaw awaiting the arrival of his
train, I, for one, was in such a state of
excitement and expectation that I had not a word to say to my companion by reason of the quaking of my jaws and the rapid beating of my heart, and I fancy Borofsky, though be had so much less at stake on the result of Percy’s trip, was not much less agitated than I to hear what he should have to tell us.
Slowly and laboriously the train drag- ged itself into the station, as Russian trains do. There is none of that fine rushing in at full speed and pulling up short at the very platform in the ad- mirable manner of our English engine drivers. The poor old Russian engine, a lumbering, wood burning thing, has had an immense distance to go, you see, and is no doubt so tired that it can scarcely drag itself and its heavy load of carriages into the haven where it would be. However, Percy’s train crawled slowly and mournfully in at last, and out jumped Percy.
I could see at once by his radiant face and the pleased smile with which he greeted us that the dear old fellow had been successful, or believed himself to have succeeded, in his enterprise. I sprang to him and seized his hand.
“Well, old man,”’ I murmured, scarcely able for excitement to articu- late the words, ‘‘what luck?’’
‘‘The very best, as I sincerely be- lieve!’’ said Percy, pressing my hand very hard. ‘‘I found the man, as I tele- graphed, and I know where he lives and’’—
‘‘Oh, is it father?’’ I blurted, a sort of black mist seeming to form before my eyes for very intensity of excitement.
‘‘Dear old Boris, I firmly believe it is,’’ said Percy. ‘‘I cannot say for cer- tain, but there could hardly be another so like him that I could be mistaken about. He has no twin brother, has he?”’
*‘Oh, no!’’ I murmured. ‘I think it must be he. But why, why’’— Idid not finish my sentence. I believe I burst into tears and was hurried into the carriage by Percy and Borofsky. There were not very many people about, the train having been nearly empty. I hope there were few witnesses to my weakness.
Borofsky took up the conversation in the carriage. ‘So you think it is really the count?’ he began. ‘‘Tell me, did you get a snap shot?’’
‘I got three,’’ said Percy with pride, ‘and was not caught at it. Twice, I
This is a hand camera,” I said, “and Pve just taken a snap shot.” know, he did not even see or notice me. The third time he looked straight at me and suspected me, I suppose, for he
asked what I was doing.
‘¢ ‘This is a hand camera,’ I said, ‘and I’ve just taken a snap shot of Marylebone church, with your kind permission.’ He only grunted and passed on.” Percy paused and laughed.
‘*How did he talk English ?’’ I asked.
‘‘Rather brokenly—but that was all he said, so that I cannot judge very well.”’
‘My father speaks perfectly, as you know,’ I said.
‘It ig nothing!’’ exclaimed Borofsky. “He would assume a foreign accent, supposing that he does not wish to be recognized as the count. Are the por- traits successful ?”’
“The photos are not developed yet.”
replied Percy. ‘‘We’lldo them together after dinner, or before, if there’s time.”’
The developing of those three plates was an exciting operation. The printing from the negatives next morning was even more so, The prints represented a man whose dress and general appear- ance were plebeian and altogether unlike my dear patrician locking eld father,
RHE DAILY HXAMINER, CHAMLU'I'TETOWN, NOVI BER 9, 1&99,
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Poere was iltlie oF
said Borofsky.
ell ' y. when I had mude a prolonged and silent inspection | Aj each of the three phot s “i. word, is it the count or is if not?” * heaven « hiy ken ws,’ Iu ri tir l ‘The clothes and the hat are things that father would never think of wear
iti ‘‘Do remember,” said Borofsky, kewhat impatiently, *‘that if this is father, he is—-for reasons of his own Which have nothing to do with us at this point of the investigation guised. The main question is not as to the clothes, but the man
son
your
Gis-
imgside ther
and that a very siaill
, . , 4 + , ‘ DOU vers r33 printed ot: \ 3 ] 7
ls it your father or is it not? Go by the
face. Is this the face of the another’s?”’
‘If I must judge by the face alone,” I said, ‘I should say this is a portrait of my father. ’’
‘*Good!’’ exclaimed Borofsky. ‘And very good! I now propose that we show the portrait to the countess and obtain her confirmation of your opinion. When we have that, I shall know what next to do. Mr. Morris, you have done won- ders and are to be congrutulated. Speaking personally, you have no doubt that this man whose portrait you have taken so cleverly is the very Count Landrinof himself ?’’
‘*Personally I never felt any doubt about it until Count Boris pointed out that his father would never dress him- self in this way. which is perfectly true.”
‘‘Ah, the clothes again!’’ said Borof- esky. ‘‘xou wil] not see that the count might desire to disguise himself.’’
‘It is so unlike him todo so!’’ said Percy and I almost in one breath.
‘*Very likely. But is he any more ac- customed to disappear suddenly with- out warning?’’ continued Borofsky per- tinently. ‘‘A man who has done the one thing may do the other, both actions being,’ as you say, unlike him ordi- narily.”’
There was no answer to this argu- ment so far as my poor dazed brain could discern.
CHAPTER IX. THE COUNT’S CRIMINAL BROTHER.
There was a great surprise for me at least, in my mother’s reception of the news, which it fell to Percy and myself to convey to her, that Percy, while in London, had seen one whom he believed to be my father, and had even photo- graphed him and found out the house in which he was living. She fell on her knees and thanked God aloud for his mercies.
“I knew, I knew that my beloved was alive and that God would return him to usin his good time!’’ she sob- bed. ‘‘You have seen him alive, dear Percy, and that isenough—the rest will all be clear cne day, when my dear hus- band is restored to himself again—and tome. He has been poorly of late. Boris, but I never suspected that the malady was of this type, until—until that ter- rible day of his disappearance. I have feared that in some horrid spasm of temporary irresponsibility he might have—but God is werciful—he bas been seen alive, all will be well.”’
My poor dear mother laughed and cried, and cried and laughed again. She looked at the little photos and kissed them and said, ‘‘Oh, yes, there can be little doubt—but oh! poor dear, what a terrible suit of clothes and hat! Do you know what I think, Boris? the new tar-
| iffs have made a great difference of late
in the profits of his iron works. He has been haunted by the idea that one day we shall be ruined, and this specter has driven him, for a little while, out of his senses, so that he has run away, poor dear soul, and dressed himself meanly in order to disguise himself from some imaginary creditors! Did he recognize and speak to you, Percy?”’
‘‘No, be did not, countess,” Percy dejectedly.
‘‘There, it is all of a piece!’’ cried the mother. ‘‘He desires to remain dis- guised and unrecognized. I see it all, oh, how plainly!"
said
‘To be Continued.)
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