Produced by Charles Aldarondo, Charles Franks and the
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THE MIDNIGHT PASSENGER
A NOVEL
By RICHARD HENRY SAVAGE
THE MIDNIGHT PASSENGER
BOOK I
UNDER THE ARCH
I. The Danube Picture
II. Tidings of Great Joy
III. In Magdal's Pharmacy
IV. Under the Shadows of the Brooklyn Bridge
V. Breakers Ahead! Checkmate! Mr. Arthur Ferris Works in the Dark
BOOK II
AN INSIDE RING
VI. Dreaming by the Sea
VII. "This May Be My Last Bank Deposit"
VIII. The Strange Tug's Voyage
IX. The Lightning Stroke of Fate
X. A Cruel Legacy
BOOK III
THE MESSAGE FROM AMOY
XI. The Girl Bride's Rebellion
XII. The Lonely Pursuer
XIII. On the Yacht "Rambler"
XIV. Irma Gluyas
XV. Miss Worthington Shares Her Secret
BOOK I.
UNDER THE ARCH.
CHAPTER I.
THE DANUBE PICTURE.
There was no air of uncertainty upon the handsome countenance of
Mr. Randall Clayton as he stepped out of the elevator of a sedate
Fourteenth Street business building and approvingly sniffed the
April morning breeze.
On this particular Saturday of ninety-seven, the shopping multitudewas already pouring from the Scylla of Simpson, Crawford & Simpson'son Sixth Avenue—and its Charybdis of the Big Store—past thejungles of Altman's, Ehrich's and O'Neill's—to dash feebly uponthe buttressed corner of Macy's, and then die away in refluent,diverted waves, lost in the fastnesses of McCreery's and Wanamaker's,far down Broadway.
The pulses of the young man were vaguely thrilled with the comingof spring, and so he complacently took in the never-ceasing tideof eager women, on the street's shady side, with one comprehensiveand kindly glance.
For six long years he had cautiously studied that same sea ofalways anxious faces! He well knew all the types from the disdainfulwoman of fashion, the crafty daughter of sin, the vacuous countryvisitor, down to the argus-eyed mere de famille, sternly resolutein her set purpose of making three dollars take the place of five,by some heaven-sent bargain.
Countless times he had threaded this restless multitude, with analert devotion to the interests of the Western Trading Company. Hewas, to the ordinary lounger, but the type of the average well-groomedNew York business man.
And yet, his watchful eyes swept keenly to right and left, as hebreasted the singularly inharmonious waves of the weaker sex.
His left hand firmly gripped a Russian leather portmanteau ofsubstantial construction, while his right lay loosely in the pocketof his modish spring overcoat.
To one having the gift of Asmodeus, that well-gloved right handwould have been revealed as resting upon the handle of a heavyrevolver, and the contents of the tourist-looking portmanteau beenknown as some thirty-eight thousand dollars in well-thumbed currencyand greasy checks of polyglot signatures.
It was the "short day" of the week's business, and the usual routefor making his bank deposit lay before him. Down University Placeto Eighth Street he was bent, thus avoiding the Broadway cr