"I go," he said, sulkily, "but, mark you, Rube, I shall return again. In a month's time, under the will of Jeremiah Mansfield, which fortunately is recorded in the Surrogate's office, even if you did lose the original, this house and all it contains belongs to me, if I can only catch that cub of a boy and turn him over to the law. Once in my possession, I'll raze it to the foundation stones but I'll discover the secret hidden by its moldering walls." He slammed the door behind them, and descending the piazza steps, started down the avenue leading to the Fort Washington road beyond, regardless of the pelting rain, his companion following without a word. Hard as it had poured all day long, and now far into the night, not at any time had the storm assumed such violence as now. The water fell about them in torrents, the wind swept through the tops of the tall oak-trees with a wild, unearthly moan. Now what possessed the man Tisdale to pause before he had advanced ten paces from the old mansion, and turn to survey its gloomy front once more, is something we cannot tell. But turn he did, and simultaneously with the movement there broke from his lips a wild, unearthly yell. "Lije! For God's sake! There she is again!" And Elijah Callister also turned. From out of the darkness before him there shot a blaze of light. The door of the old mansion stood wide open. The piazza, the great hall, and even the staircase beyond, were to be seen illuminated with the brightness of day. And there, in the midst of that blaze of light, upon the threshold of the door itself, stood the form of the dead Mrs. Marley, pale and rigid, with one thin, white finger pointing directly toward himself and his frightened companion who with chattering teeth stood trembling by his side. For one instant only the apparition maintained its place. The next, and all was darkness again. With a loud cry of terror Reuben Tisdale sprang down the avenue, and was lost from view among the trees, while his companion, now scarcely less alarmed, hurriedly followed in the direction of the gate. CHAPTER XIX. MR. CALLISTER'S CLERK. "Ketchum & Bustem, eight hundred Wabash common, buyer three!" "All right, Ketchum & Bustem--there you are." Out of a little hole in the glass partition, which divided the interior of Mr. Elijah Callister's office, Room 62, ---- Building, Broad street, from the portion which was open to the outside public, a hand was thrust, passing back a receipt book to the waiting messenger of the well-known firm of Ketchum & Bustem, brokers on Broadway. As no further messengers appeared, the transactions of Mr. Callister upon the board that day having been small, the door of the glass partition was presently thrown open, and a young man, neatly dressed, with a pen thrust behind his ear appeared, and began to walk up and down the office with a meditative air.