The Argosy, Vol. XXIV, No. 1 — page 153: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE MAJOR’S PLOT. 153 The news spread through Lewisberry and the neighboring country like wildfire. Men on horseback and in buggies pursued the assassin clear into Harrisburg, and full information was telegraphed to the police from the nearest point on the railroad. Eugene Maillard—for by this name we must in future know him—was traced to the bridge, and here the trail ended. Horace Penrose had gone straight to Harrisburg himself; but in the evening he returned to the farm, more than half convinced that his prey had made good his escape. Here he found joyful news awaiting him. A decided change for the better had taken place in the squire’s condition—produced, no doubt, by Dick’s return—and he now had every prospect of recovery. Ford was lying in an upper room with a bullet in his lungs, but Dr. Galen declared that he would probably recover. It was necessary, of course, that the squire should be kept very quiet for some time to come. ‘He must be kept in ignorance of what has occurred,’’ said the doctor. “he strange story°can be broken to him very gently when his strength begins to increase.’’ : The lower part of the house was thrown open that evening, and Betsy prepared such a feast as she had never equaled before in her life. After supper the lamps were lit in the cozy library, and an expectant group gathered about the big table—Dr. Galen, Mr. Grimwood, Dick, Jack Douglas, Walter and Nellie Maynard, and Mr. Dock Dawson, who looked strangely out of place’ in such an assemblage. Horace Penrose sat at the head of the table; and all awaited with breathless interest the story he had to relate. ‘Tt is fifteen years or more since I left this home,’’ he began, ‘‘and little did I dream then of the long time that was destined to elapse before I wouia see it again. I wandered over the Continent, and finally located in Paris. Here I soon formed a circle of friends, and among them was the man who fled from the house today—a young Frenchman, who called himself Eugene Maillard. He was clever, witty, agreeable; in fact, a charming companion ; though what principally cemented our friendship was the perfect resemblance we bore to each other—a resemblance, which as you have seen for yourselves today, is still as strong as ever. He was a brave man—I must say that much for him—ahd through his persuasion I was induced to enlist in the French Army. ‘“T have not time to relate my story in detail tonight. I must deal only with the leading facts. Let it suffice to say that our regiment was ordered to Algiers, where we saw much service among the Arabs. Then came the war with China, and we were ordered off to Tonquin. In that severe campaign I won my promotion and returned to Algiers a major. ‘TI was fated to enjoy my honors but a short time. A few months later Maillard and myself were captured while conducting an attack on a hostile tribe of Moors, and for the last six years we have suffered untold horrors from our cruel captors. Maillard and I were not separated, a fact for which I was extremely grateful at the time. We were slaves of the same shiek, worked CONNICGlOOoOKS.Cc@ 3