He knocked confidently, and was at once ushered into the midst of a number of guests. Coming as he did, from the darkness, the glare of the lights blinded him; but as he advanced into the room, Cal Wagner said, “We were waiting for you, sir. Please be seated.” Turning to the group near the center of the room, he continued, “Reverend sir, this is the guest we were expecting; will you now proceed with the ceremony.” Looking radiantly happy, Mollie and Phil took their places in front of the minister, and the solemn marriage service commenced. Sam made a bolt for the door; but Cal’s great hand closed over his shoulder like a vise, and he was compelled to stand and see his last shred of revenge slip away from him, amid the happy smiles of those around him. Then he crept out into the darkness, out of the ken of those who knew him, blaming everybody but himself, yet at war with himself and all the world, because he had not succeeded in ill-doing. Phil said to his wife: “I am sorry for him; I wish he had been content to be my friend; I did like Sam.” Of course there was not the slightest opposition to Phil’s assuming control of his own property, but his conscience troubled him because Sam had built the shafthouse: “I had much rather have paid him for it,” he remarked; but when later he learned that neither lumber nor labor were paid for, and all bought upon his credit, he had no more regrets. A TALE OF THE X RAY. Christopher Hembold had a mania for experimenting. He had tried everything from hypnotism to electricity, when the “X” ray was first talked about. He could think or talk of nothing else; he perused every magazine and paper with greedy avidity in search of articles concerning it. “Christopher, do put that paper down and eat your breakfast,” said his wife. Mrs. Hembold was a nervous little woman, and it annoyed her to hear the newspaper rattle, and she disliked to have it held so as to hide her Christopher from view. “But, Maria, just listen, here’s more about that wonderful discovery—” he exclaimed excitedly. “Christopher Hembold! Eat your breakfast! I care much more that the steak and coffee are getting cold than I do for that nonsense.” “You have no sympathy, Maria; the mysteries of science are beyond your appreciation!” he exclaimed, as he folded the paper in dignified displeasure. “Appreciate fiddlesticks!” angrily retorted Maria, stirring her coffee vigorously. Said Christopher, the next morning at the breakfast table: “Maria, I am going to Abbeyville on business, and shall in all probability be detained a month.” “What business have you in Abbeyville?” asked Maria in surprise. “It is business of a private nature, which you wouldn’t understand,” answered he loftily. “Which is a polite way of telling me that it is none of my business,” retorted Maria in a huff.