A DICKER IN TITLES.

Dunstan Times, Issue 2677, 4 August 1913, Page 2

A DICKER IN TITLES.

(By George Randolph Chester.)

There’s your place, old scout,” declared Ben Smiley, stopping the driver with a poke in the back. Autione Poivrade looked at the four points of the road and then at his ad- j viser, incredulous and shocked. '‘Notj this magnificent chateau!” he ex-; claimed, feasting his eyes again on the stately house set back in a wilderness of green and surrounded by a vineclad wall. . ‘■Best corner within ten miles or Paris!” insisted Smiley, who was a sharp-angled man, with a hard-muscled face. “More thirsty Americans pass this stand than ever found your little old New York roadhouse.” “But, Smiley,” protested Antoine, studying an elaborately explicit sign, “this is the ancient chateau of the Marquis de Blanchesaug!” “Great!” approved Smiley. “You can use that in the business. Call 't the Marquis Blauchesaug Roadhouse, and put a picture of the old boy up over the gate.” Fifteen years in had not taken all revenence from the soul of Antoine. “Impossible!” he cried. “Why?” argued the practical Smiley. “I can’t read French; but if that isn’t a real estate sign I’ll out horseradish on it and eat it.” “It is now the property of the Comte Gruyere de G-assepompeaux,” interpreted Antoine “Ho would not sell it for a roadhouse.” “Show him some money,” grinned Smiley. “Also, the price will be too great, worried Antoine, already planning a new terrace for little marble-topped tables. “Never mind,” chuckled Smiley. ‘Get the property first. You can tie up a bundle with a shoe-string.” Antoine’s eyes twinkled and the curls of hie black moustache perked upward. “That is the language of New York, 1 he smiled. “1 heard it at every tabic m my roadhouse. But there is another difficulty; the Count himself lives in the ncljoining chateau.” “Let’s go look him over,” offered Smiley: and ho again poked the driver. Scatl-ring gravel with reckless impudence. the taxi dashed up the driveway of tno old Grassepompeaux estate. An ox-eyed gardener, with a fuzzy moustache; a workman, with no forehead and a droopy moustache; another, with cheekbones Like horns and wiry moustaches like bunches of celery; and another one with a nose that started at the roots of his hair and ended in a round red knob over a moustache that was a merciful fringe—all these looked up and scowled at the passing vehicle. This vvas a daj of scowls in the chateau or the Comte Gruyere do Grassepompeaux; for it was the first of the month, and no wages or bills had been paid for the last year. Even as the taxi whirled up the drive, little Luoien Lafaim, who had the thinnest waist and stvffeat pompadour and most bristly moustache of any private secretary between Paris and Versailles, rushed into the kitchen and threw his portfolio on the standing desk of branoois, the cook. Ho was in despair! “Again 1 am discharged!” ho exclaimed. Francois, broader than ho was tall, and adorned with moustacUes like spikes, stood his half-sliced carrot on end and brought out the absinthe. “Again 1 resign!” he fiercely declared, and he loosened his apron-strings to breathe more freely. “It is because you have asked Monsieur lo Comte for money 1” ‘‘Monsieur Lucieu! Monsieur Lucien !” cried the shrilly exeiteci voice of I lorette, who rushed into the kitchen and out again, then back, remembering that she had seen the secretary there after all! “Mademoiselle Madeleine desires me?” queried Lucien, again in despair. “Now!” directed Florette with her hands and her eyes and her mouth and her haid —particularly her hair, which fairly radiated impatience. “It is of no use!” sighed Lucien. There is no money!” The contempt of Florette for Lucien was beyond mere words. She rushed madly up the back stairway. On the Landing she nearly upset thick Emilio and that bewildered scrub-person was stili crossing herself when Lucien dashed past her and upset her pail! In her blue boudoir, amid the priceless old furniture, and beneath the glitter of cut glass, stood Mademoiselle Madeleine herself, tali, well rounded, black-haired, carmine-cheeked and thirty-two. There was a glint in her black eyes. “1 require five hundred and twentyfive francs, Monsieur Lucien, if you please,” she coldly informed him. “Mademoiselle, I am in anguish!” protested Lucien. “There is no money.’ “It is necessary,” stated Mademoiselle Madeleine. “Four bonnets are hero from my modiste. There is some error, for the account comes to collect by the messenger. Attend to the affair.” Monsieur Lucien Lafaim was driven to his last extremity, “i am discharged!” he explained. Mademoiselle Madeleine know the worst at last! Lucien was always discharged in a towering passion when her brother, the Count, had not a centime. She turned to Florette with calm dignity.^ “You will toll the messenger of the Mansion Clauric© that mademoiselle <a insulted. Ido not wish tho bonnets. I will not have the bonnets. I desire that the Maison Clan rice shall send in tho account complete.’” “Yes, mademoiselle,” accepted Florette with vigorous joy; and in three seconds the shrill voice of tho maid, v ; - ‘ brating with indignation, could bo heard ; telling tho messenger of the Maison [ Claurice just iiow much mademoiselle ! was insulted! Mademoiselle Madeleine listened to 1 Florette with gloaming satisfaction, calmly dismissed Secretary Lafaim, ana 1 took a vase from the mantel to place' it 1 on a tabouret. Midway of tho floor she : heard the impertinent voice of tho mes- 1 senger of tho Maison Claurice, and the red flame of her cheeks spread up to hor temples and 1 down to her round nock. 1 Suddenly she threw the vase into the fireplace, and soothed a portion of her soul with a thousand of those clashing 1 tinkles; then gwept out into tho hall in | her morning gown, down the grand ; marble staircase, and into tho door of i her brother’s library! There she stopped, confused; for Monsieur lo Comte | was just receiving Antoine Poivrade late of America, and Ben Smiley, also of that rich country. Monsieur Ben Smiley turned discreet- ' ly away; but Antoine Poivrade, plump 1 and sleek, with beautifully curled I moustaches, fixed his astonished eyes in • surprised 1 adoration on the charming Mademoiselle Madeleine de Grassepora- j peaux! “Pardon!” she murmured, and fled. 11. “Monsieur himself would use the chateau as a residence?” speculated the Count, who with tho largest face in France necessarily had tno tiniest moustache. “Naturally.” smiled Antoine. Tho Count did not look so overjoyed as ho might have done after this announcement. It was no particular pleasure to have the chateau of the Marquis occupied by one of tho bourgeoisie! Ben Smiley, distressed and distract- I ed bv the mazes of a language of which | he had no comprehension, touched An- , toine’s foot with hia own. “Show him some money; and don’t tell him why you want the place,” ho warned. 1

“Pardon, monsieur ?” observed the Count, looking at Ben Smiley in a puzzled manner. Antoine was blandnees itself. “Monsieur Smiley advises me to come to the business of the affair,” he explained. “What would bo the price of the chateau of the Marquis ?” The Count breathed heavily, torn between the distractions of how mucn money he needed and how much he could probably get. _ “Six hundred thousand francs,” he finally estimated, allowing himself the useful margin of a hundred thousand francs above his ' mortgages. Antome turned speculatively to bus friend. . , “It will be difficult,” ho worried. 1 “Show him some money 1” insisted Smiley. “lie desires a hundred and twenty thousand dollars I” Ben Smiley immediately rose and the angles on his face became intensely obtuse. . “If it’s cash, kick him on the shins and lot’s go home 1” i . ‘lt is not ail to be paid at one time, hastily urged the Count, seeing that they were about to go. “One hundred thousand francs might be paid now, and ' the balance at your leisure.” Antoine resumed his chair. “What did .<e say?” demanded Bon Smiley suspiciously. “That twenty thousand dollars would be suiliciont at the present time,” Antoine informed him. “Mortgaged, to the neck!” judged Smiley, sitting down and pushing a hard fortliuger into Antoine’s knee. “Now, pal, don’t pot stung! Find out just how stiff these mortgages are and hold that much out of the price; then cut him to a whisper on the balance. Show him some money, Tony.” The Count studied Ben Smiley with deep thought spread over his entire countenance. A factory had been erected adjoining tho chateau of Comte Beaupauute - an apartment hotel had been built overshadowing the chateau of tho Duo d’lvrogae; Ben Smiley looked like a business man! “Monsieur is certain that he wishes tile onauau of the Marquia for his own residence?” he queried. Antoine hesitated. “What did he say?” rumbled Smiley, returning the Count’s suspicion with interest. He listened gnniimgly to Antoine’s explanation. "Toil him you intend to entertain some of your American friends,” he suggested. “Why don’t you show him some money!'’ Antoine, at Last heeding the advice of his friend, produced his pockotbook and opened it. Thy well-stuffed wallet contained a thick shoal of thousand-franc notes; and Bon Smiley with much satisfaction saw that the Count s eyes glistened ! . “I shall not pay Monsieur 1c Comte all he lias asked,” Antoine stated; "but i shall bo pleased to advance him twenty thousand francs in cash immediately—at this moment —‘to retain the bargain, as we say m America.” The Count hud never hungered and thirsted so much for money as at that instant; still his duty toward hunsell and toward the dead .Marquis, Horn whom he had won the Blancliosauy estate at cards, hold him back. That expression, “to retain tho bargain,” in itself sounded like business. “1 must know in advance to exactly what u*e monsieur wishes to put the chateau.” ho insisted. “What did ho say?” inquired Ben Smiley. , . , TTorette ot the streaming hair burst into Lite library out of a sudden bubble oi confusion which seemed to fill tho house as if by magic! “Fire!” she cried; and rushing on through the library, hot illtlu puiK hands gesticulating in so many direciions that there seemed a circle of them, she dashed down into the abode of Francois and up the oac-k stairs into the sewing room, leaping over thick Fannie on the Landing, through tho hall, and down the front stairs again, shrieking Fire! at every jump. The Count proved himself u man ol action —ho rang a bell! “Yea, monsieur,” answered Lumen, darting in from his tiny little office at the roar of the library. “Fire!” announced tha Count, still ringing Luoien’a boll. “Holy bine!” gasped Lumen, ami sat down. “it is desperate!” cried Antonio J’oivradu, jumping from hie seat and catching the contagion of tho occasion. TTorette appeared again in the doorway, tho mere centre of a quivoiing a ureolo of hair. “Fire!” she screamed, and again dashed away. , Unco again the Count proved hmisou a man oi deeds! “Lucieii, telephone to tha fire brigade!” he ordered. “No; but wait; Toll T'hilippo to ring the chateau bell. All! Another thought! 101 l Henri to Ur.Up, up the hand-grenades from the cellar! Well, cochnon —you do not move! Aliens!” Lucie n Lai aim rose. Ho was pale. Ho staggered. Ho put his hand to his heart. He fell! “Ah, my child,” cried tho Count m remorse; and stooping over, with his own hands ho loosened Luc ion's stays- “ Fire;” screamed Florotto outside ufio windows, running round tho house in both directions. Some ono else now had tho brilliant idea ci ringing the chateau boll ; and, in spite of tho crack it had acquired in tho iUvolutiou, it clanged forth bravoiv and scared everyone had not been previously frightened! The Count himself now plunged to the telephone, though he despised and feared that mysterious and unreliable French instrument. “‘Fllo! ’Elio!’ ’Elio! ’Elio!” ho began, pleading into tho transmitter, and never left off bo long aa tho excitement lasted. Thick Emilio came thumping into tho library with her scrub-pail. Her mouth was wide open but voiceless. She placed liar pail on tho table and crossed herself; then she upset the water on the floor, picked up bar empty pail and plodded out, convinced that she had displayed great presence of mind. Henri, of the wine cellar whoso moustache was kinky, hurried up the stairs with tho Land-grenades, which were lull <,-f a chemical guaranteed to extinguish any lire into which tho grenade might bo thrown. With a deft cork-screw ho pulled the stoppers of four; but, sine® tho liquid would not stay in any of them, ho gave up the task and ran out, dripping! A flash of rod passed tho library door. It was Mademoiselle Madeleine dc Grassepompaaux! Antoine Foiyrade, gallant to the very core, immediately sprang out after her. “Fear not, mademoiselle, I will save you!” he earnestly assured her; and together they ran away to a safe distance and looked at tho house. Tho four workmen who had scowled at the taxi carne running with a reel of hose. They pushed and pulled and wriggled up the stops; and wedged d tightly in the doorway. The ono with the moustaches like bunches of celery had been most in everyone’s way; but now ho proved to bo tho genius of tho occasion. He tore off tho side of the reel awl began plucking at tho coils of hose. Alas! they-, too, were wedged! All four wore in despair; but the ono with the moustache like a fringe suddenly thought to open the other door, and they pushed the apparatus into tho hall. The fuzzy-moustached one came running out with an end of the hose in his hand-. His eyes wore distended and his nostrils were expanding. Ho galloped straight into the garden at top speed. The drooped-moustached one followed him madly, with two nozzles

in his hands! The celery-moustached one, who had given birth to the brilliant idea about breaking the reel, stopped and pondered; deeply for a monont; blieii he screeched at the other two, "Haiti You have the wrong ondl” They did not stop, however, until they had) reached the waterplug by the hydrangea bushes; and then the fuzzymoustached one proved to them that either end was now —with this new patent coupler —the right end for either the plug or the nozzle. hirst he screwed the ihoso to the plug, to show them ho was right in that portion of his contention; then ho unscrewed the hoso from the plug and screwed on a nozzle in triumph. ihoa ho unscrewod the nozzle and screwed the hose back on the plug while hlorette ran round and round the house screamir Fire! and the Count pleaded 'Hilo! into the telephone. ' The three workmen were very much interested in the patent coupler 1 Was the fringe-moustached workman to bo idle in all this need for activity Y Ho was not! He took the other end ol the hose and rushed with it to the nearer watorphig at the side ol the well. Ho was deft! Ho was clover! Ho was cool-headed! He fastened the hose to the waterplug in only live attempts! Then ho remembered that he had not used the patent coupler, and did it all over again—but he did it welt! Floret to varied her course. She dashed in through the reel-cluttered hall and mad© a round of the kitoheu. where Francois was stuck in a Hour barrel: the sewing room, where Fhnelie had retired to put on her best apron; the boudoir and the corridors by way of the library, screaming Fire! at the top of her lungs. The Count stopped saying ’Elio! Something must be done- He went to the library window. He looked out at the idle hose, which curved almost up to the steps. ‘‘Turn on that water!” he commanded in a voice of „reat exasperation. There was instant obedience. Both the fuzzy-moustached man, at the waterplug by the hydrangea bushes, and the fringe-moustached one, at the plug by the well, turned on the water at one and the same time —and into the bright and shining nozzles under ins same hoso! The man with the two arms immediately started running, in order ro ho somewhere or other. The hoso filled with a thud. Water spurted irom the patent couplers at both ends, tint nothing else happened. The celery-moustached man followed the solidly filled hose from one plug to the other. He saw instantly what was the matter. He stopped and thought; then ho chased the nozzle man and brought him back, and, seizing an axe, chopped the hoso in two! The nuzzle man barely rescued him from drowning. •■fire's out!” called lien Smiley. ‘‘f found it in the pantry and 1 spanked it to death!” Antoine Poivrado was not siow in translating that glad news to iiis coin patriots; and the gratitude of the Comte (Jruyoro de Hrassepompeaux was beyond adequate expression. He stepped up to Bon Smiley, threw his arms round that sturdy American, and kissed tlu* struggling friend ol Antoine on both cheeks! “And now, monsieur," he said to Antoine, "1 (.ball consent tu take your money I” 111. "But 1 have only sixty thousand dollars-.” fretted Antoine at the Hotel of the Seven Seas, "i shall require leu thousand to remodel the chateau ami ten thousand to begin business. • 'That's the■ way to figure it!” approved Ben Smiley, "Tiiat leaves US lorty thousand to spend lor tho property.” Antoine shook his head. "Tho mortgages are lor a hundred thousand dollars,” lie objected. "It would take all my profits to pay the interest. “You talk like a sucker!” eluded Smiley. "Those mortgage* Tout worry your Cncie Ben for a minute! Cue oi ilium has been running 11 A, y years, u that I oehiedook ing intio lawyer ol yours knows anything.’' “There's whore wo re up against if, mured Antoine. “That mortgage uuuf ho very strong.” “The hundred thousand -dollar,-, Das been paid in interest hail > a dozen limes,” declared Smiley. "Tile mortgage is old enough to dm. Antoine speculated on tluii, ala lemon t with a dawning sparkle iu ms eyes. “1 like American business,” ho saia. “How shall wo proceed:-” and lie in lolled his clumsy slufied chair cioser. “Show idiom some money!” was Smiley’s instantaneous advice. Antoine looked vague. “But howr” ho protested. “That’s up to you,” urged Sniiic.y. ‘T have a hunch it can lie done. Hero s a box of cigarettes. Tho government retail price do three and a fourth francs. This i»wt‘ll hotel scatcli.cs off the tag and charges me six. The guy downstairs in the Prince Albert —•that j. thought was the proprietor —cats with tho servant and guts twenty dollars a month. A soldier draws two cents a day. You go right over to your lawyer and show him some money!” Antoine was completely reassured, lie rose smilingly and buttoned his coat, “That is tho talk of all tho gentlemen who paid three dollar*, lor a lobster at my Mew York roadhouse,” ho observed. “1 go!” Antoine did not return until dinnertime, and he wai, lobbing with excitement. "It is true!” he cried. "1 have scon ill 1 do not suppose there is another case like it now lull! Ihu properly of the Marquis came to him in the Restoration, and it i*> not clear Hint lie paid the government,” "How much will it cost to make it dear that ho didn’tH’ grinned Smiley. "Pouf!” exulted Antoine, slapping himself on the chest. “! leave already paid two thousand dollars—half 1 I shall bo a rich man in Krai ice, like my Wall Street customers 1” "1 guess the old Marquis relied on his pull,” mused Smiley. “Look!” went on Antoine, who seemed to have grown an inch round the chest. “J buy tho property from the Count, 1 have the government bring suit to set aside my title. Then tho property is to be sold for its price in the Restoration, which waa sixt en thousand dollars. As the owner ol the property J have first chance to buy ii.” Smiley grunted his approval. i "Same old stuff!” he commented, j "Innbcent-owuer gag! That clears vour title and cuts out any incumbrances that happened since the Reid to rat ion was.” "Voila!” sang Antoine, stalking up and down tho floor and laughing like a hoy. "The mortgage, it is pool ! The money was loaned on property that belonged to no .one!” Smiley did some rapid figuring. "Ten thousand for expenses, sixteen thousand to the government, and ten thousand to the Count—thirty-six thousand in all for an estate worth a hundred and twenty thousand!” "Voila!” exclaimed Antoine. “I shall be rich in France! I shall ho a millionaire!” Ben Smiley looked at his figures thoughtfully. "It’s a shame to pay all that money to tho Count!” ho thought. !V. "Comic opera for mine,” insisted the silk-hatted Smiley as he stood at tho curb in front of the Hotel of the Seven Seas. "Grand opera makes mo sao and the Moulin Kongo makes me ashamed of myself.”

“It is only innocent fun,” laughed Antoine; “but you shall have comic opera. The Merry Widow is at- the Apollo.” “Me for that,” accepted Bmilloy; and he turned to Hie boy with the hundred brass buttons and told him to call a taxi. A big brown limousine stopped just in front of them. On the drivers seat wore ft chalfeur, with a kinky moustache, and a footman, with moustaches like bunches of celery. The footman jumped down. He was proud in in* brown livery, more proud than everfor ho had three excessively bright brass buttons to replace three oi the dull ones that had long been absent., lie opened the door. A huge man iu an opera hat and c wide velvet collar clambered down sidewise. Ho had an enormous face and tho smallest moustache it was possible to grow. “The Count!” observed bnuiey, touching Antoine’s elbow as Do Grassepompeaux strode into the hotel, prec( cl<d by the footman with tho celery moustache. Antoine did not bear him. Tie was doffing his silk hat and bowing profoundly to the charming mademoiselle iu tho limousine; but she was looking coldly out of the other window. The concierge of the hotel, who was an Italian and looked like a German, but .spoke English like an Irishman, came bustling out. “Beg pardon, sir,” he said to Antoine. “You have a visitor. He straightened Ids shoulders. He expanded his dies.. He stiffened his neck. “Monsieur lo Comto Gruyere do Grassepompeaux.” , Antoine boned profoundly to tno lady iu the limousine, who was still looking coldly out ol the opposite window, and hurried into the hotel, ro!iowe’il by the Ben Smiley. “Ah, mv dear Count!” cried Antoine, rushing forward In tho gray salon with outstretched hand. ;i he Count threw back his velvetcollared coat to display the broad front of his new evening shirt. ‘'Cochon!” ho hissed. “I repudiate oiir agreement! 1 refuse to complete Hie sale of tiio Chateau Blauchesaug! You are tho proprietor of clip Chatelet Boivrade, of New York! You would conduct a care in tho chateau of the Marquis!” , , Antoine bristled. Tho fact that he was bourgeois had been considerably driven out of turn in America—and he had just been called a pig!

“C-ochon I” he hissed iu return. “What did he say?” demanded the over-attentive Smiley. “Ho has the goods on ns,” frownmglv stated Antoine. “Ho knows of tho roadhouse.” “Well, what’s ho going to do about it ” Smiley gruffly challenged.

• Hu will not complete tho sale of Hie propel ty,” explained Antoine; and. finding the Count glaring ferociously at him, ho glared ferociously hack. Ben Smiley studied tho .situation thought fully. The Count wore new patent-leather pumps; Ins white evening tie was fresh from tho shop; Ids gloves had never helore been stretched. “Tull him to give hack the money,” directed Smiley. “But no!” protested Antoine. "1 do not want the money.” “He hasn’t a cent of it left,” chuckled Smiley. “Look how new he is!” The eyes of Antoino softened. Ho smiled suavely.

“Monsieur lo Comte is quite right,” lie admitted, “ft was my intention to open a elite in the ancient chateau ol tho .Marquis do Blanehesang; but if Monsieur It- Comto objects wo shall dis-inl.-s the affair. -Monsieur will return the twenty thousand, francs.” The Count swelled with indignation. “No!” ho red. “You have devolved ~e! Hu; iorf.it the money!” Tno Conn;, having delivered his ultimatum, stalked out. Antoino turned to Bon .Smiley wi fi snapping eyes. “Voila!” ho said. “1 am finished! The beans have been spilled!” buck up!” remonstrated Smiley. It’s the Count who lias spilled tiiu beans. Here’s where we save v. Tfiero uas auuiKO consternation in ti.o chateau of Monsieur io Comte Gruyoro Uo G ra*s^pompeau x. The golem men t had served notice that it intended to set libido tlie Count s Irauuu,il ii 6 tille to tho ehta-te of the late Marquis cU Bhaieiimaug! Tho Count rang every bod in the lmu.se; and when moustaches oumo iu answer he sent ihcixi away. 'melon Lftjft.im, immediately on .earning the cause oi the, excitement, hurried dov,u to his li'ieud i' raucous in Hie kitchen, ami together they hastily mixed a bsiutue frappes oi double strength. Thick Emilio, forever scrubbing tho back st. p», I'fft her pail on tho landing for kinky-moustached Henri to stop into presently, ami running into the gard, n locked at tuo chateau. Phdipeu, Hie butler, wit'll tho naturally curly moustaches, remembering He/ Tvst turmoil and having gained wisdom by experience, rang the cracked chateau bell; and the four workmen at onco brought out tho hose

reef. The gardener, with the calory moustaches, however, wan bound there .should be no awkwardness this time. Hu had boon thinking, and ho already had a nozzle screwed uu each end of the hose! The Count had also ‘been thinking. My grasped the telephone to rink with bis advocate; but before he did so bo took the precaution of sending Henri to that gentleman with a note requesting him to call at once. Ho was still pa'.ientiv pleading “’Elio!” into the transmitter when his lawyer arnveti. “it is very simple, monsieur,” explained the advocate from beneath bis tape ding moustache. “Monsieur le Comie has but to pay the eighty thousand francs the Marquis should have paid to the government and ho will | have no more trouble.” “Is there no other solution?” inquired tim Count with contempt. Tim advocate tapped his nose significantly and smiled. “Perhaps if monsieur will spend forty or fifty thousand francs ho may ho able to prove by the records that the ancient Marquis did pay the price to the government at the time of tiro Restoration.” “Fifty thousand frames!” gasped the Count, fooling nervously for his moustache but losing it in the fold of his lip, “Very well, monsieur I’Avocat. You must secure me the money.” Monsieur I’Avocat rose and bowed courteously; then lie put on his hat. “You flatter mo!” ho replied, and was gone. VI. There was excitement and surprise in the chateau of Monsieur lo Comte Gruyero do Grassepornpoaux. The gardener, with the celery moustaches, saw Antoine Poivrado and Ben Smiley and an architect, with up-pointed moustaches, taking measurements about the grounds of the Chateau Blanchesang. Twenty minutes later he observed that they were still at it. Half an hour later lie discovered that they had not yet left. After pondering deeply over itho matter ho decided that this was unusual and so reported to the Count. The Count immediately Hew into a rage and ordered the interlopers off the place. “Beg pardon, Monsieur lo Comte,” responded Antoine pleasantly. “It is rou who are the trespasser. This on-

tato belongs now bo Autoiuo Poivrade!” “Impossible!” cried the Count. “Quite the fact!” exulted Antoine. “The authorities, after your refusal to pay, accepted my contract of option with you as first claim to complete fcho ownership ol the property, and 1 have bought it for eighty thousand francs.” “Then you will pay me the balance of our contract!” the Count spluttered in a rags. ■•But, no,” gently refused Antoine. “Air title dates from the ITostoration, and there are no claims of any sort against it —except tho mortagago 1 am now putting on ii for tho payment to Monsieur lieu Smiley for his share in tho transaction.” Antoine paused and raised himself four times to Ids tees in a posture of groat complacency. “We are fifty thousand francs —‘to the good,’ as we say iu Amorioa, Monsieur k> Comte!”