f. 4 •t AS GOOD AS GOLD. CIIAPTRR Xn. j On entering his own door, after watch- ing h*a wife out of sieht, tlie Mityor | walked on t hroiigh the tunnel-shaped ' passage Into the garden, and thence by the side door towards the stores and granarlea. A litrht shone from the of- fice-window, and there being no blind to jsopeen the interior, Uenchard could see Donald Farfrae still seated where he left him, initialing himaelf into the managerial work of the house by over- I hauling the Ixxiks. Henrhard entered] merely obaerving, " Don't let me inter- j rupt you, if ye will stay so late." He stood behind Farfrae's chair, watch- ing his dexterity in clearing up the numerical fogs which ha<l tjeen allowed to growr BO thick in Hencbard'a Iwoks as almost to baffle even the Scutch- . man's perspicacity. Tbe corn-factor's ^ mien, was half admiring, and yet it was i not without a daah of pity for the i tastes of any one who could care to give | Ina mind to such finikin details. Uen- chard himeelf was mentally and physi- cally unfit for grubbing subtleties f room â- oiled paper ; be had in a modern sense received the education of Achillea, and found penmanship a tantalising art. " You shall do no more to-night," ha â- aid at length, spreading bia great hand over the paper. " There's time enough to-morrow. Come indoors with me and bare some supper. Now you shall I I am determined on't." He shut the ao- oount-books with friendly force. Donald had wished to get to his lodg- ings ; but he already saw that hia friend and employer was a man who knew no mixieratioD in hia requests and impuiaes, and he yielded gracefully. He liked Henchard's warm.tb, even if it in- convenienced him ; the great difference in their characters adding to the liking. They looked Up the office, and the young man followed bis companion tliTough the private little door, which, admitting directly into Henchard's gar- den, permitted a passage from the util- itarian to the beautiful at one step. The garden waa silent, dewy, and full of perfume. It extended a long way back from the bouse, first aa lawn andflow- er-bed.s, then aa fruit-garden, where the long-tied e.«palierR, as old as the old boufie itself, bad grown so stout and cramped and gnarled that they had pull- ed their stakes onu of the ground, and â- toud distort<rd and writhing in ve^e- table agony, like leafy I.,aocoonA. The flowers which smelt so sweetly were Dot discernible ; and I hey parsed through tbem into the house. The hoHpitalities of the morning were repeated, and when they were over Uen- chard said, " Poll your chair round to the fireplace, my dear fellorw, and let's make a blaze â€" there's nothing 1 hato like a black grate, even in September." He a<)plied a light to the laid-in fuel and a cheerful radiance spread around. " It is odd," said Uenclmrd, "that two men Hbould meet as we have done on a purely buiiiue&s gAmnd, and tltat at the end of (he first day I should wish to apeak to 'ko on a family matter. Hut, a it all, I am a lonely man, Faifrae: I have nobody ebte to speak to ; aud why shouldn't I tell it to youf" "I'll be glad to bear it, if I can lie of any service," said Donald, allowing' hi.s eyes to travel over the intricate woofl-carving.'j of the chimney-piece, re- presenting garlanded lyres, sbieUU, and quivers; on either side of a draped ox- sKUll, and flanked by heads of Apullu and Diana in low relief. " I've not been always what I am now," continued Ilencoard, bis firm dee.p voice l)eing ever so little »lvakeii. Ue wait plainly under that strange in- fluenoe which soniotimes prompts men to confide to the new-found friend what they will not tell to t'ua old. "1 lic- gan life as a working hay-trusser, und when I was eighteen 1 married on the strength o' my calling. Would you think me a married man?" " I heard in the town that you were a widower." " Ah, yesâ€" you would naturally have heard that. Well, 1 lost my wife eigh- teen years ajgoâ€" by my own fault. . . I'bis is hmv it canu< about. One sum- mer evening I was travelling; for em- ployment, and she was walkmg at my •ide. carrying tlie h.iby, our only child. We came to a 1m)oI h in a country fair. f was a drinking man at thit titiie." Henchard pau.s<'d a moment, threw himself iMick BO that his cIImiw rested oil the table, his forehead being .shnded liy hia hand, which, however, did not hide the marks of introspective inflexi- bilily on hi.'^ feature.'* as he narrated in fulle.st detail tlie inriilenls of the trans- action with the sailor. The tinge of Indifference which had at first lieen vi.i- Ible in the Scotchman now disappeared. Henchard went on to describe his at- tempts to find his wife ; the oath he swore ; the solitary life he led during the years which followed. " I have kept my oath for eighteen years," he went on ; " I liave riwn to what you see mo now." " Anil it's not a sjnall counterlxilance to t liie immoral years that ye've done so muirhi since I" " Wellâ€" iK> wife rontd I hear of in all that time; and tieing by nature some- thing of n woman-hHler, I have found it no hardship to keep at a distance from the sex. No wife could I hearof, I say, till this very day. And nowâ€" she has come back." " Come Imck, has she f " " This morning â€" this very morning. And what's 1o T«>, done?" "Can't yo take hmr and live wilhher, and «o make amends?" " Thai 's what 1 have planned and pro- posed. But Karfrae," said ITenchhrd floomily, "by doins right with Ru.san wrong another iim<H!ent woman." "Ye di«i't say that?" "In the nature of Ihing.^, Farfrae, it is almost impossible that a man of my sorts should have the good fortune to tid'o through twenty years o' lite without making more blunders than one. Ft h«» 1»*n my custom for many years to run across to .Tersey in the way of business, particularly in the potato and root season. I do a large trade wi' them tfl that line. Well, one autumn when .itopping tbere I fell quite 111, and In my illness I sanlc into one of those glixumy fits I sometimes suffer from, on account u' the loneliness of my domes- tic life, when the world seems to have the blackness of hell, and, like Job, 1 could curse the day that gave me birth." "AK Farfrae. ' Ab, now, 1 never feel like it," said " Then pray to God that you never may, young man. While in this state I was taken pity on by a womanâ€" a young lady ^ should call her, for she was of good family, well bred, and well educated â€" the daughter of some harum scarum military officer who had got into difficulties, and had his pay seques- trated. He was dead now, and her mother, too, and she was as lonely as I. This young creature was staying at the boarding-hoase where I hajipened to have my lodgings ; and when I was pull- ed down she took upon herself to nurse ma. From that she got to have a fool- ish liking for me. IleJiven knows why, for I didn't encoviraire any such thing. Rut, being together in the same house, and her feeling.') warm, there arose a terrible scandal, which did me no harm, but was of cour.><e ruin to her. Though, Farfrae, Ijetween you and me, as man ami man, I solemnly declare that I did her no wrong. Devotion to women-folk has neither been my vice nor my vir- tue. Rut I am bound to admit that she waa terribly careless of appearancea.and that I was perhaps more, fiecause o' my dreary state; and it was through this that the scandal arose. At last I was well, and came away. When I was gone she suffered much on my account, and didn't forget to tell me so in letters (me after another; till, latterly, I felt I owed her sumethiug, and thought that, as I had not heard of Susan for so long, I would make this other one the only return I could tnake, and ask her if she would run the risk of 8usan lieing alive (very slight as I believed) and marry me, sucE as I was. She jumped for joy, and we should no doubt soon have Ijeen married â€" but, behold, Susan api>ears I" Donald shuwed his deep concern at a complication so far beyond ttie de- gree of bis simple experiences. " Now see what injury a man may cause around him. Gvcn after that wrong-doing at the fair when I was young, if 1 nad never l>een so selfish as to let this giddy girl devote herself to me over at Jersey, to the injury of her name, all mi^ht now be well. Yet as it stands, I must bitterly disaiipoint one of tht>.se women; and it is the second. My first duty is to Susanâ€" ther's no doubt about that." "They are both in a very melancholy position, and that's truel" murmured Donald. "They are I For myself I don't careâ€" 'twill all end one way. But these two." Henchard jiaused in reverie. " I feel I should like to treat the .second, no less than the first, as kindly as a man can in such a case." " Ah, well, it cannot be heliied !"said the other, with philosophic w<iefulness. " You must write to the young lady, and in your letter you must put it plain and honest that it turns out she can- not be your wife, the first having come Iwek ; that je cannot see her more; and that â€" ye wish her weel." " That won't do. 'Od seize it, I must do a little more than that. I mustâ€" though she did always brag about her rich uncle or rich aunt, and her exiMtc- tations from 'em â€" 1 must send a useful sum of tuoney tfl her, I suppose â€" just as a tittle recompense â€" poor girl. . . Now. will you help me in this and draw up an explanation to her of all I've told r', breaking it as gently as you can? m so tn<l at letters." " And 1 will." " Now, I haven't told you quite all yet. My wife Su«an has my daughter with her â€" the liaby that was in her arms at the fair; and this girl knows nothing of uie Ix'yond that 1 am some ort ut relation by marriage. She has ifimvn up in the l^elief that the sailor lo whom I made over her molher, and who is now dead, was her father and her mother's husband. What her moth- er hiUH always felt, she and I together feel now â€" that we can't proclaim our disgrace t.o the girl by letting her know I he truth. Now what would you do â€" 1 want your advice ?" "I think I'd run the risk, and tell her the truth. She'll forgive ye Ixitb." " Never I" said Henchard. " I am not going to let her know the truth. Her mother and 1 are going to marry again; and it will not only enable us to retain our child's respect, but it will lie more liropor, Susan liHiks upon herself as the sailor's widow, and won't think of liv- ing with me OS formerly without an- other religious ceremonyâ€" and she's right." Farfrae thereupon said no more. The letter to the young Jersey woman was carefully framed by him, anil the in- Icrveiw en<led, Henchard saying, ns the .Scotchman left: "t fi-el it a great re- lief, FarfriU!, to tell some friend of this I You 8e«i now that the Mayor of Casterliridge is not .so thriving in his mind as if seems be might lie from the slate of his pocket." "I <to. And 1 am sorry for it I" s.'iid Farfrae. When he was gone Henchard copied the letter, and, enclosing a checiue, tiMik it to the past-office, from which be walked li.ick thoughtfully. "Can it lie that it will go off so e.vaily I" lie said. "Pour thingâ€" God knows I Now then, to make amends to Susan I" rilAITJilR XIII. The cottage which Michael Henchard hired for his wife Susan, under her name, of Newson- in pursuance of their plan â€" was in the upper or western part of the town, near the wall,, and the avenue which overahado\ved it. The evening sun seemed to shine more yel- lowly there than anywhere else this autumnâ€" at nilching its rnys, as the hours givw laler, under the lowest syc- amore liouchs. anil steopinp the grouml- iloor of the dwelling, with its (jreen shutters, in a s"lisl ratuiii of rmliaiice which the foliage screened from the up|ier parts. Beneath tliejie syoiunores on the town walla (mhiIiI 1«i seen from the sitting-room the lumiili ami earth forts of the distant iiplamls; making it altogether a ,.'ea.sanl sixit with the .isimI touch of melancholy that a wes- tern proai<ect lends. As soon as the mother and daugh- ter were comfortably installed, wiih a white-apione.d servant and all complete, Henchard paid them a visit, and re- mained to lea. During the entertain- ment Klizalielh was cjimfully hoodwink- ed by a wry general tone of the con- versations I hat prevailed â€" a pru'eeding which seemed to afford some humour to Henchard, though his wife was not pjirtlcuJarly hafipy In it. The visit was repeated again and again with busi- ness-like determination liy the Mayor, who B«!enw>d to have schooled himself into a course of striot mechanical Tight- ness towards this woman of prior claim, at any expense to the latter one. and to his own sentiments. One afternoon the daughter was not indoors when Henchard came, and h' said dryly, "This is a very good op- portunity for mo to ask you to name the happy day, Susan." The poor woman smiled faintly ; she did not enjoy pleasiin tries on a situa- tion into which she had entered solely for the sake of her girl's reputation. She liked them so little, indeed, that there was room for wonder why she had countenanced deception at all, and had not bravely let the girl know her history. But the flesh is weak ; and the true explanation ca ae in due course. "Ob Michael," she said, "I am afraid all this IS taking up your time and giv- ing trouble â€" when I did not expect any such thing I" And she looked at him and at his drees as a man of affluent;, and at the furniture he had provided for the roomâ€" ornate and lavish to her eyes. "Not at all," said Henchard in rough lienignity. "This is only a cottage â€" it coats me next to nothing. And as to taking up my time"â€" her his red and black visage kindled with satisfaction â€" "I've a splendid fellow to superin- tend ray business nowâ€" a man whose like I've never been able to lay hands on before. I shall soon be able to leave everything to him, and have more time to call my own than I've had for these last twenty years." HencJiard's viaits here grew so fre- quent and »o regular that it soon Iie- came whispered, and openly discussed in Casterliridge, that the masterful, ooercive Mayor of the town was cap- tured and enervated by the genteel widow. Mrs. Newson. His well-known haughty indifference to the society of woman-kind, hts silent avoidanne of converse with the sex, contributed a piquancy to what would otherwise have lieen an unroniantic matter enough. That such a poor fragile woman should lie his choice was inexplicable, except on the groiud that I he engagement was a family affair, in which senti- mental piiasion had no place ; for it was known that they were related in some way. Mrs. Henchard was so pale that the boys called he; "The Ghost." Some- times Henchard overheard this epithet when they passed together along the Walks â€" aa the avenues on the walls were named â€" at which his face would darken with an eipreAsion of de- structiveness towards the speakers ominous to see; but he said nothing. He pressed on the preparations for his union, or rather hts reunion, with this pcUe creatuix) in a dogged unflinch- ing spirit which did credit to his con- scientiousness. NolKxIy would h.ive contieived from his outward demeanour to the bustle going on in bis gaunt, great house; nothing but three large resolves: one to make amends to his neglected Susan, another to provide a comfortable home for F,lizalx!th-Jn.ne umler his paternal eye; and a third to castigate himself with the thorns which these restitutory acts brought in their train; among them the low- pulse of romance acting as stimulant erlng of his dignity in pulilic opinion by marrying so comparatively humble a woman. Susan Henchard entered a carriage for the first time in her Ufa when she stepped into tJie pK-iin brougham, which drew up at t he door on i be wedding- ilay to take her and Flizalieth-Jane lo church. It was a windle.ss morning of warm Novemlier rain, which floated down like meal, and lay in a powdery form im llio nap of bats and coats. Few [Woplc bid gathered round the church door, though they were well pjicked within. 'I'he Scotchman, who .assisted as groomsman, was of course, the only one present, lieyond the chief actors. Who knew the true situation of the contracting part'es. He. hmvever, was too inexperienced, too thoughtful, too judiciaj, too strongly con.scious of the serious .side of the business, ,to enter into the scene in its dramatic aspect. Ihat inquired the special genius of Christopher Coney, Solomon Longways, lluzzford, and th<'ir fellows. But they knew nothing of the secret; though lis the time for coming out of church drew on. they gathered on the pave- ment adjoining, and expounded the .,'^*- according to their lights. â- "Tis five-and-forty years sine* I had my settlement in this here town." said Coney; "but daze me if ever I see a man wait so long liefore to take so little! There's a iliance even for thee after this, Nance Mockridge." The remark was atblntssed to a woman who stood liehind his shoulderâ€" the sa'-.c who ha<l exhlUted Henchard's 'â- od bread in public when Klizalieth and her mother entered Casterliridge. "He oust if I'd marry any such as he. or thee, either," replied that lady. "As tor thee, Christopher, we know what ye lie. and the leas said the better. And as for heâ€" well, thereâ€" (lower- ing her voice) 'tis said 'a was a poor prenticeâ€" I woulilii't say it for all the worldâ€" hut 'a w.i.s a poor (larish 'pren- tice, that liegan life wi' no more lie- lonqring to 'en than a carrion crow." "And now he's worth ever so much a minute." murmured Longways. "When a man b said to lie worth so and so a minute he's a man to lie con- â- sidereil I" Turning he saw a circular disc reticu- lated with cre-uscs. and recognised t he smiling counienanc* of th<i fat wouiun who had a.sked for another song at the King of PriL-isia. "AVell, Mother Cnxsom," he said, "how's this ? Here's Mrs. Newson, n mere skellinton, ha." col another husliand to keep her. ivhile a woman of your tonnage have not." "I have not. Nor another to lieat nie. . . Ah, yes, Cuxsnm's gone, and so shall leather breeches!" "Yea: wilh the blessing of God lea- ther breeches shall go." '"TLsn't worth my old while to think of another husbiind." continued Mrs. CiixBom. 'fAnd yet I'll Iny my life I'm as re.spectali|e born as she." "True; your niither was a very good womanâ€" 1 can mind her. She were re- warded by the Agricultural Society for Inying the greatest numlier of healthy children without p.arish a.ssistance, anil other virtuous marvel.s." ""fSvos that that kept us so low up- on groundâ€" that great family." "Ay. Where the pigs l>e many the wash runs thin." "And dostn't mind how mother would sing Christopher?" pontinued Mrs. Cuxsom, kindling at the retro- spoction: "and how we went with her lo the p^irty at Mellstock, do ye mind : â€"at old Dame T#illow'9. farmer Ponny'- slster, do yo piind f â€" shh wo used ti. call Toadaklo, lieoauae her face were .so yeller and freckled, do ye mmd ? "I do. hee-hee, I do I" said Christo- pher Coneiy. ''And well do Iâ€" for I was getuig up husliand-high at that timeâ€" one-halt girl, and t'other half woman, as one may say. Anil canst mind"â€" she pr-jd- ded Solomon's shoulder with her finger- tip, wbS!e her eyes twinkled between the crevioea of their lidsâ€" "ciinst mind the sherry wine, and the silver snuffers, and how Joan Durnmett was took bad hen we were coming home, and Jack Griggs was forced to carry her through the niiid ; and how 'a let her fall in Dairyman Sweetapple's cow-barton, and we had to clane her gown wi gtrass- never such' a me.ss as a' were inf" "Ayâ€" that I doâ€" hee-heeâ€" such dog- gery its there was in them ancient days to be sure I Ah, the miles I used to walk tien ; and now I can hardly step over a furrow I" Their reminisoences were cut short by th<! appearance of the reunited pairâ€" Henchard looking round upon the idlers with that aml*igliou8 gaze of his, which at ion^ moment seemed to mean satisfaction, a^d at anothier fiery dis- dain. "Wellâ€" there'* a difference between 'em. though he do call himaelf a teeto- taller," siiid Nanoe Mockridge. "She'll wish her cake dough afore she's done of him. There's a bluebeady look about 'en ; and 'twill out in time." ".Stuffâ€" he's well enough. Some folk want their luck buttered. If I had a choice as wide as the ocean sea I wouldn't wish for a better man. A poor twanking woman like her â€" 'tis a grxlaend for iSsr, and hardly a pair of jumps to her name." The plain little brougham drove off m the mist, ,and the idlers dispersed. "Well, we h.ardly know how to look at things in the.se times I" said Solomon. "There was a meji dropped down dead yesterday, not so very many miles from here ; and what wi' that, and this moLst weather, 'tia scarce worth one's while to liegin any work of conaequence_ to- day. I'm in such a low key with drink- ing nothing but small table ninepenny this lost week or two that I shall call and warm up at the Prooshia as I pass along." "I d<»'t know but that I may as well go with 'ee, Solomon," said Chris- topher ; "I'm aa clammy as a cockle- snaU." (To be continued). JAPAN TEN YEARS HENCE. Ber rravioloBH for HlrrBCthralBS Her Ami)' HHil Her Vtrrt. Neither the military nor the naval forces of Japan can yet be called very formidable, judged from a Western standpoint. They are remarkable for an Asiatic nation, but relatively to the population are certainly not excessive. Japan called into action men enough for her war with China, and easily brought that huge, lumtiering power to its knees; but the regular troops that she maintains in her establish- ment are not very numerous. A late statement puts the aggregate in offi- cers and men at 73,941. But the new programme, which has received legislative sanction, for an in- crease of these forces until the total l)ecomea nearly double, making the standing army in ISOC not leas than 144,000 strong. That force, which the reserves c«uld swell to perhaps half a million or more, will be sufficient for her, with her comparatively isolated potiiUon and the capalnliUes of her coiists for defence. And yet how little burden will lie impoised on her treasury is clear from the estimate that the annual cost of maintaining this great eoitabllshmeut will !« not over 914,- OUOMM. Ah with the British Isles, however, whuise geographical position relative to the adjoining Continent Japau'.^ great- ly resembles, the greai arm of defence lor her is the navy. There, also a pro- gramme looking forward as far as lyOC is completed. In the first place, the t>aais of the new fleet is the force of vessels which overcame the Chinese navy. Then there are the ships which wore captured from China, or at least the pvirt of them that can be repaired. It further apptuirs that there were at that time building in Japan three fast modern cruisers, while ^he had order- ed in England two fine large battle tdiips, that have since been launched, and before long will be added to her available fleet. But In addition the Ja|>anese Diet h^is provided for many oilier vessels. According to pulili»hed figures there are lo be two suiges in the .shipbuilding prugrauime. The first, which includes ii4 ve.s»el8, reckoning largo and .small, and displacing an aggregate of 45,890 tons. Is to txi compleied in IWJ, while the isecond, comprising 63 vessels, with an aggregate ol (ii>.S95 tons, will be linished uiur years later. Ut^re, then, is a provbiion for no fewer than 117 vessels with an aggregate of 115,785 totus, to be completed ten years hence. Japan is ablu to carry out this rt^markablo plan wiih the more ease from the fact that she has secured a very h«savy war indemnity from China, which can lie laid out on the first cost ot the ships, but their mainienanco will Im! no alight additional burden on the empire, all hough if her naval exiienees are as small relatively to Furopean lus are her military expenses, she will have less to complain of. Her determination, however, to make herself an element lo be reckoned wilh among the navies of the world is plain, and .she at once hastens, the execution of her plan and perhaps deprecates toreign criticism of it by giving a part of the work to European and foreign Shipyards. It Is said that three bat- tle..sliip.s, three cruisers, a torpedo gun- boat, a torpeilo tender, four torpedo de.stroyers, and four first-class torpedo iKxits will lie built abroad, and two of the cruisers are likely to be coastructed in this country. Alike in her indu.strial and her mili- tary and naval development the next ten ',ears will no doubt see great pro- gre-oi in Japan, and .she is plainly pre- par.ng herself for a leading role in de- termining the fortunes ot the far East. HIS COMPANION. L;ist night I took a long stroll with the one (love licvst in all the world. 1 should Ihink you would get tired of walking by yourself. ICNDCNS CMNIBUS THIEVES. Th.-lf Work«» Pr««lable Thai Thej Kaa â- Line ot HIrale Vetalrlrn or Their Ow«. One of tie happieat hunting grounds for a pLi-kpocket is a Ijmdon omnibuol People have Ijeen warned of this over and over again; notices are kept oontior ually posted on the doors and windows of the 'bus; conductors watch with keen and suspicious eyes doubtfaL4ookin|{ passengers, and yet aXi thia energy seejus to make little or no differanos to tihe pickpockets. They seeoa to thrive almost as we.ll as if 'buses wera provided for their special edification, and there are quite a large niunlier of thieves in London who make a liv- ing by working almost entirely is f\xb- lie conveyances. One gang In particular was broken up Long Ago, It caniiL»ted ot about twenty-three men, and was known â€" on account of a practice they bad of sling- ing a hooked stick over their arms â€" a» the "Crooked Stick Gang." It -wa* started in 1893, and the originator waa an exceedingly clever thief with whom the i>oUce desired further acquaintance* He started this brilliant id>;a by giving an "At Home" in the Se /en Dials. H* hired a room in a public .V>uae for tb« purpose (as he informed the landlord^ of holding a "Friendly Lead," but a4 a matter of fact the people who tanr ed up were one and all practised pick- pockets, and Che outcome of this meet* ing was the fonnaiiua of a sort of Thieves' UniuD, the object of which wa« to prey upon unwary people who tra^ vel in omuiliuses and trams and pulv lie conveyances genenUly. The memp bera WORKED IN PAIRS, the one thieving and the other watch* ing that he did not ciieat his fellovirs, Ihia system worked remarkably well for a tune. Each pair of thieves had a number of ingenious dlsgulies; on dif- erent occasions ihey exchanged routes: and OS ihoy kept a particular record of their proceedings and were careful not to work too oiien in the same di» trict, Uhey were for a long time unde- tected. At the end of each day they met at a pul>llc house, previous!,/ appointed, lor diviiliug ibeir spoils; ana a lair idea of the profits uf the concern will be gathered from the foot that they have divided as mui:lt iia 91^0 on a sin- gle day. After a time the conductors of the 'buses (ei^ieoiullly in principal thor- oughfares like Piccadully) got to know ije gang, and beooioe strangely short- Kighied when one of them liailed tbem from the pavement. They treated tbem wi/th an indifference that wa« gaUmg, and ibeir twbavior seemed es- pecially brutal when the passengers with the "crooked stick" happened to le an oM white-haired gentleman with gokl eyegbiKies. When at lust biv^iuess became so in- volved that the directors of the omni- bus companies began to emplK^y deteo- Uves to watch theiu, the gang thought it advtsatile to run 'buses of iheir own, and they did. 'They started a nuiio- ber of "pirate" 'busex. and as just somo- where about this time the company 'buses ralseit their fares, they easily got a Uirge number of paaaengers by retain- ing the oiiit prices. 'Tiiey were very careful, however, lo atop only for well- dressed and reSrecuaiile-Iookiug people, and it was a strange thing it a pas- senger did not miss soiuelhing before hs or she reached the end of the journey. Each person who entered the 'bus vraa, of course, must CAREFULLY WA'ICHED. The cry "AM fares," gave the thievea a clue to the whereabouts of the purses* and a short time after they were ro- placed they were skillfully removed bj the "working members," One of the gang who mampul'ated matters inside the 'bus was a most dexterous pick- poi'ket. It was his boost that ha couki extract a purse with a i>air ot sugar tongs, and ne has been known to steal one, remove all the money, and then quietly replace it in the owner's pocket without exciting the sUghtest suspicion. For a wihile these "pirate" 'buses suo- cceded even better than the others. On some occasions a siiigiie 'bus has yield- ed over twejity purses a day. soime ot them contaLning as much as 975, and it was seldom that a pocket was picked without something of value be'mg found. At last, hawever, complaLnts at Scot- land Yard liecame so numerous that the authorities set a special <letective on the track of the crooked sticks, with the result that one uf the members was caught red-handed, and this led short- ly afterwards to the arrest of several others. After that it was not long lie- fore they were entirely broken up. Without a head they were incapatile of working systematical ly, and they scat- tered ill every direction â€" mi«lly to Port- land, where many of them are stiU "h«». ing time." MAKES HIS HOME IN A TOMB. Ecrenlric Joiinlbau Keetl Ran rnrnUkeA HI* Vault HumpiuouAlr, The officials of Evergreen cemetery, in Brooklyn, N.Y., have asked Jona- than Heed, an eccentric miMiouaire, to cease making the tomb of his wife his daily abiding place. Mr. Ree<l's wife died three year's ago. He was devotedly alt ached to her and a year after her death caused the body to be removed from the tomb ot her father's family and placed In the vault in Evergreen cemeiery. Within the vault are two hamlsome steel coffins of precisely the same size. In tme re- poses the liody of his wife; the other is designed for hiiuself. Mr. Ueed hiis spent a good part ot each day since its construction in beau- tifying the vault and its environmentâ€" in making the interior as miu-h as pos- sible like the home of the dead wife. Thilher he has removed all her trinkets, her favorite books, the cage that once contained her favorite canary, and ths chair she used to sit it. On fine days the bereaved husband occupies a chdir at the entrance of the vault, where he is visited by hundreds of persons, who ask hiiim all sorts of (luestiona: It is the assembling of Iheas curious ones that t)i« cemetery au- thorities object ta