great railroad, was known even further than the great railroad itself
had stretched its system.

At six o'clock one morning he was found by his butler lying at the
foot of the hall stairs with two pistol wounds above his heart. He was
quite dead. His safe, to which only he and his secretary had the keys,
was found open, and $200,000 in bonds, stocks, and money, which had
been placed there only the night before, was found missing. The
secretary was missing also. His name was Stephen S. Hade, and his name
and his description had been telegraphed and cabled to all parts of
the world. There was enough circumstantial evidence to show, beyond
any question or possibility of mistake, that he was the murderer.

It made an enormous amount of talk, and unhappy individuals were being
arrested all over the country, and sent on to New York for
identification. Three had been arrested at Liverpool, and one man just
as he landed at Sydney, Australia. But so far the murderer had
escaped.

We were all talking about it one night, as everybody else was all over
the country, in the local room, and the city editor said it was worth
a fortune to any one who chanced to run across Hade and succeeded in
handing him over to the police. Some of us thought Hade had taken
passage from some one of the smaller seaports, and others were of the
opinion that he had buried himself in some cheap lodging-house in New
York, or in one of the smaller towns in New Jersey.

"I shouldn't be surprised to meet him out walking, right here in
Philadelphia," said one of the staff. "He'll be disguised, of course,
but you could always tell him by the absence of the trigger finger on