Chester opened his eyes inquiringly. “Why, this is all I’ve got,” he said; “what’s the mim–mim–matter with this?” “But your—your luggage?” inquired Mr. Mitts. Mr. Chester waved a much–worn tooth–brush in the air. “Man wants but lil–lil–little here below,” he remarked. * * * * * “You see,” explained Mr. Dudley Winthrop Chester, formerly Quinlan, as he stepped out into the night air with Mr. Mitts, “the scheme is bib–bib–busted here, but I’ve got confidence in it. It’s good—it’ll gig–gig–go. Chicago’s the pip–pip–place for me. I suppose if you flash up ‘amo, amas’ to a Chicago man, he thinks you’re Elihu Burritt, the learned bib–bib–blacksmith.” [Illustration] “Aren’t you tired of this life of false pretences?” asked Mr. Mitts, sternly. “You can bib–bib–bet I am,” responded Chester, frankly; “I haven’t said a cuss–word in six months. Did–did–did–damn—damn—damn—damn!” he vociferated into the calm air of night, by way of relieving his pent–up feelings. “How long is it, Dudley,” pursued the patient Mitts, “since your parents heard from you?” [Illustration] “Two years, I gig–gig–guess,” said Chester. “By Jove,” he added, as his eye fell on the blue sign of a telegraph office, “did–did–damn if I don’t telegraph them right now.” Mr. Mitts was deeply gratified. “That’s a good idea,” he said. “Lend me a kik–kik–quarter,” said Dudley Chester. * * * * * At midnight sharp, Mr. Mitts saw his charge ascend the rear platform of the Chicago train just as it moved out of the gloomy Jersey City station of the Pennsylvania Railroad. A young woman of slight figure, with a veil about her face, emerged from the interior of the car and threw her arms around the neck of Mr. Chester, late Quinlan. “I thought I wasn’t mistaken,” said Mr. Mitts to himself. The next week he received an envelope containing a scrap roughly torn out of a daily paper. It read as follows: [Illustration: MARRILL SCHOFF.—At the by the Rev. Dr. Kroiel, BISCHOFF, daughter of off. to THEODORE BREUSING, of Osnabruen, many. CHESTER—COPERNICUS.—At the rectory of the Church of St. James the Greater, by the Rev. Dr. Wilson Wilson. D. D., FLORETTA, daughter of Thomas Copernicus, of New York, to DUDLEY WINTHROP CHESTER, of Baltimore. Md. No cards. Marriage o h noti ad, without extra char then the London v Re ter.] * * * * * And yet, within six months, Mr. Mitts received cards. They bade him to a reception given by Mr. and Mrs. Chester at the house of Mr. Thomas Copernicus. “_I_ couldn’t have done that,” said Mr. Mitts to himself. [Illustration] HECTOR. [Illustration: “_Three slats!—and a vast black body leaped high in the air._”] HECTOR.