.v A **'“'ch*.’... iii In the Whole of my long and eventâ€" lul experience as a tracker of criminals there is one failing which has puzzled me more than any other thing in conâ€" [motion with the men whom I have been fortunate enough to hunt down. and that is the extreme careâ€" kssness shown by the clevercst of scoundrels. A man will plan out a crime with the utmost subtlety and ingenuityproviding for wellâ€"nigh ev- ery contingency, and altogether show- lng himsolf to be a Napoleon of orim< inality, but all the some, by sheer care- lessness or want of foresight, he will leave one glarineg obvious clew which brings his house of cards to the ground and delivers him into the clutches of the law. It is the history of such a scheme, ruined by such an oversight, that I will set down in the lines that follow. One. morning I was instructed by my chief at headquarters to go to the of- fice of John Pennythorpe, in Golden Square. to inquire into a. forgery case. I at. once took my steps to the office named. and, after a short delay, was shown into Mr. Ponnythorpe’s room. He was a gonial~looking, clean~shav~ on man of some 35 years. and he rose to greet me with a smile. "Good morning, Mr. Blake,†he said, as he motioned me to a chair. “I am glad that you have come so promptly, for there has been some bother over a check of mine." I prepared to listen to the details. and he continued: "Last Monday I re- ceived from the bank the usual. paid checks which they are in the habit of returning to me every month. There were fifteen, in all, most of them for Small sums. One of them, however, was for no less an amount than £500, and directly I looked at. it I knew that it was a forgery. “The signature and the body of the check were apparently in my own handâ€" writing. but as I had not drawn anyâ€" thing like such a, sum for months past. I knew of course, that the business was I. fraud. I at once communicated with the managers of the bank and also with Scotland Yard." "You seem unnecessarily agitated,†I remarked, after a pause, “for after all the bank, I presume, will bear the loss and not yourself. in the case of forgeries the bank is always liable." "Quito so, quite so," he returned. "I myself do not lose a penny, but what agitates ms is the knowledge that I must have a forger near me, for no- body but a man intimate with me could have so gauged the amount of my ac.- c-ount. It was just £550, so that after paying the amount of the check, only £50 remained. The bank has treated mix very honorably, and has writtcn alrmidy to say that my account has, been credited with the. £500 in quesâ€" tion. My interest, therefore. in find- ing the forger is purely from the point l of view of justice to the bunk. Doubtm less. if the scoundrcl is discovered imâ€" mediately, some of the money may bel refunded." I "No doubt," I returned. quietly; "and now, perhaps you will be good enough to let me see the check, also :12 Check bearing your tune." He took from a drawer in his table a couple of checks. "Here is the forged dorumcnt." he said, "and here is the genuine one. Compare them, and you Wlll detect absolutely no difference." No. There was no noticeable difâ€" ference. I scrutinized the forged chch with the aid of my glass, but the. mag~ nifying process elicited absolutely no- thing. "This is the must strikingly clever forgery that I have ever come across.†I said, after a pause. "I do not won~ Aer that the bank people were deâ€" oeived." "Nor I." he made answer, "for upon my word I myself should have been taken in by so extraordinary an imL tation. And now, if there are any de- tails i can give you which may be serâ€" vu‘eable, pray command me.†"First of all," I said slowly, "1 should like 'to ask you where you usually keep your check book." “i am afraid,†he answered, "that I have been rather careless in that re- spect. its usual place is an exposed position on this desk." “V“\’lio has access to this room l“ "l. have only one clerk. and he comes and goes when he likes." "Do you suspect. him?†"My dear sir," he answered, as he rose and paced the room, "it is impos- sible for me to say. He has always apIs-arcd thoroughly reliable." "How long have you had the man l?" “'l‘hme years. He came to me with admirable testimonials. I do not think he could possibly be guilty.†"‘Vould this youth be acquainted with the state of your passbook, so that. he would be in a position to know how far he might go \\ ilhout overdrawâ€" lag; the account?" "Oh. yes. You see, he usually goes to the bank for me, and checks the asshmk with the returned checks. l ave always had so much confident-e in Jenkins that .l have allowed him ah- solulo control of my bank business." "I see. Has he appeared to you latth i ly to be in want of money 1" He pans. ' ed for a. moment, and then said: "Well, yes; no“; I come to think of; it, only a week ago he asked for an adâ€" ‘ Vance of salary." “That may or may not mean any genuine signa- thing. A man may be hard up and desire an advance, and yell hesitate about a deliberate forgery. Have you any of his writing that I can look at I" "Plenty. How will this suit you 3" He handed me a. note from the clerk, in which the latter made some unimâ€" portant communication. As I was something of a graphologist, I thought that doubtless the youth’s caligraphy might give a (-low to his character, but :1. shade of disappointment. crossed my face as I scrutinized the letter. It was the stereotyped commercial hand which is the bugbear of the handwritâ€" ing expert, and which gives absolutely no Glow to the writer‘s tendencies. I tossed the paper from me, and said: “That won‘t help us a bit. Is the young fellow here to-day '9" "Oh, yes. I (:0qu ring for him, and you could have a. look at him without his knowing your business. Shall I do so 3" He rang the bell, and 399.11, thin young fellow answered it. From B. sign made by Mr. Pennythorpe I knew that this was the clerk in question. and i watched him narrowly while his employer gave him some instructions invented on the spur of the moment. 'thn he was gone the otherfurned tome. “Well,†he think of him 3†"He looks a simple. honest young fol- low," I returned. as I ross to go; "but of course. appearances are not often Delia-bio. My next move will be to go down to the bank and interview the cashier who paid the £500 over the bank counter." Mr. Penn 'thorpe rose and held out his hand. ' I am. sure you will do your best for all of us." he said, as I took my leave. asked, "what do you I 0 II . Arrived at the bank I had to wait a few moments before I could see the manager. as he was engaged. with a customer. At length, however, the vis- itor departed and I was ushered into his room. “Glad to see you." he said, heartily. “I presume you have just come from Mr. Pennythorpe‘s office, as he wrote us that he was communicating with Scotland Yard I" “Yes, I have seen Mr. Pennythorpe," I returned; "but the interview has elicâ€" ited very little. He seems much agiâ€" tated about the loss, although it is the bank's, I presume, and not his." "Quite so," returned the manager, gloomily. "As you know, the law pro- vides that in case of forgery the bank and not the customer suffers. As to the justice or injustice of that law I will not speak now. Our object is to find. the culprit." "Which may be far more difficult than you may think.†I Said. "I have always found cases of this kind the hardest to unravel. At least 50 per cent of modern forgers are never brought to justice.†"Let us hope," he replied, quickly, "that. this case will belong to the other fifty." “With all my heart," Isaid; “and now, if you will allow me, Ishould like to have a chat with the cashier who cashed the check in question. which I have brought with me from Mr. Pennythorpe's office." The manager's face fell. “It is rathâ€" er unfortunate,’ he said, “but; Wilson, the clerk who paid over the money. is laid up just now with influenza. Still, you might go down to his house and interview him." “What is his address l" I asked promptly. "I will ro down there with- out a moment’s de ay." The clerk, it seemed, resided at Clap~ hum, and a few minutes later I was hailing a cab outside the bank, "lfern Villa, Melthorpe Road, Clapâ€" ham,‘ Icricd, and presently we were bowling along in the direction of the southwestern suburb. During the journey I turned. my thoughts to other subjects for I have always found it a good rule to give the brain a rest when on a hunt of this nature. To allow one idea to re- main uppermost for any considerable time is almost ruinous to the perform- unoo of intelligent. work. After nearl threwquarters of an hour's drive the cab turned into a. shady stmet made up of tiny houses, Fern Villa. being the last on the right hand side. Here I alighted and rang the bell. having previously told the cab- man to await my return. A small, white-faced woman, whom I took to be Mrs. \Vilson, opened the door gingerly. "What. can I do for you, sir 1" she asked timidly. . "is Mr. Wilson able to receive a. visiâ€" tor ?" l asked. "I have just come from the London and Suburban Bank, the manager of which place tells me he is laid up. My business is important." "The doctor is upstairs now, sir," she said quietly, “but. he won’t be long. \\'ill you please walk in?†I entered the tiny parlor and sat. down. Presently I heard steps on the stairs, then a slam of the house door, which led me to think that the physi- cian had taken his leave. This was the case, as Mrs. Wilson appeared almost imliietlizzlely and informed me that if I would walk up her husband would see me. "From the bunk, sir 4" he said anx- iously us lentered. “I hope nothing is wrong." . “Nothing so for as you are concern- ed, Mr. Wilson," 1 returned cheerily. “l. have merely come to ask you to be kind enough to give us a, little help. l mu Detective Blake, from Scotland Ya rd. I am given to understand that this check," here 1 produced the docu- ment, "was paid over by you to a cer- tain individual some two weeks ago." He rose in his bed and looked at the slip of paper. “Five hundred pounds. and singed by John Pennythorpe, pay- able to ‘Self,'†he observed. “Yes, I have a very distinct recollection of taking in this check, because it. hap« pound to he the first; I had cashed on . my return from my holidays." .1 brighlvnod considerably. “That is exceedingly fortunate," fl .-lnurkcll. ‘ your description of the be of great an! able .n 11 who cu. l run-\v . S,~,l.‘l.ltllt‘-(7. l , ' ".l to di-sx‘ri'oe him ." 11o frll M ant sud. his eyes, as though striving to aid his memory in that manner. "Yes." he said. after a pause, "he was a rather tall, thin man, of some sixty years. H‘s had a. white heard. hair and mustache. and wore gold glasses. His features, as far as I remember, were commonplace. I think he was dressed in a black frock coat and he wore no gloves." "\Vhat makes you so certain about his not wearing gloves 2" I asked quickly. "Ah, that‘s the point which i an more certain about: than any other. I am positive he wore no gloves, because I remember remarking how shocking- ly his finger nails were bitten. There was hardly anything of them." I jumped up so suddenly that he looked as though he thought me mad. "\Vhat's the matter?" he asked. "What’s wrong i" "Wh'ongl" l echoed. “0n the conâ€" trary; everything's as right as can be. By Joveâ€"the blackguardl Excuse me taking a. hasty leave, Mr. Wilson, but, really, I think your ' more than sufficient. Goodâ€"by. Hope you'll soon be better; and thanks, very much." Rushing down the stairs, I bade Mrs. Wilson a hasty good afternoon, and, jumping into my cab, ordered the man to drive back to the bank where I had engaged him. Curiously enough. the manager was justissuing from the building as we drove up. "Mr. Venn." I said, Speaking very quickly, "I think I have a. clew. May I ask you to accompany me in this cab at once to follow the same up ?" Ho seemgd rather surprised ar my manner. ut acquiesced word. . "Where are you going 9" he asked, as the cab drove off. "We are going," I answered, .“to Mr. Bennythorpe’s office. We shall find our man there, unless I am very much mistaken." The cab set us down in Golden Sguam in twenty minutes, and we at. once took our way to the room which I had quitâ€" ted that morning. Pennythorpe was seated writing as we entered. He recognized the man- agwer. and wished him good afternoon. Then he turned to me and said: "Have you found a clew?" "More than that," Icried. I have found. the man. John Pennythorpe, I arrest you, in the queen’s name, on the charge of attempting to defraud the London and Suburban Bank to the sum of £500.†. In my time I have seen many cases of moral and physical collapse, but never have I seen such an utter breakdown as took place in that little room on that afternoon. Pennythorpe seemed to shrivel upâ€"his face blanched with terrorâ€"his eyes were well-nigh glazed, his knees shook. If ever guilt was written on a. man’s face, it was written on his face then. He clung to the table for support as he gasped out: "The proof-what proof have you '3†"Quite enough," I answered coolly: “your disguise, Mr. l’enn'ylhorp which represented you as a dignified old gentleman of 60, was doubtless exâ€" ceedingly artistic. and would probably haveâ€"insured your against detection had you taken the simple pert-aution of wearing gloves." He looked rapidly at. his hands. and I could see that he understood all and realized the claw which had tracked him. There was a long pause, at the end of which he turned to the manager, who had stood a silent. spectator of the, scene, and said bmkenly: “Mr. Venn. I admit the charge. I was at my wits' ends to know where to obtain a thousand pounds, and l hit upon the idea of obtaining 500 by this trick, the other 5Q0, of course, coming to me in the ordinary way. i wrote and signed the cheque, and, disguised beyond recognition, I cashed it. at the bank. There! now, and I trust you will not be too hard on a man who took a desperate stop because his position was more desperate still.†He broke down and sobbed. The three of us then went to the police station, where Pcnnythorpe was given into custody. The trial came on shortly afterward, but as the bank did not press the charge the prisoner escaped with a light sentence. His case is interesting in view of the fact that; it furnishes one more proof of the carelessness of the most ingenious criminals, for bad he taken the precaution to wear gloves on that fatal morning, the mystery of the "forged" check on the London and Suburban Bank would doubtless have remained a mystery until the end of time. W BEAUTY OF SAXON WORDS. How beautiful does Ruskin, \Vho did so much to popularize art. and harâ€" mony among the lower classes in Engâ€" land in “Sesame and the Lilies,†ex- press his idea of the true( sphere of woman. He says: “\V‘hht do you tthlink the beautiful word ’wife’ comes from? It is the great; word in which the Engilsh and Latin languages con- quer tlhe French and Greek. I hope the French will some day‘ get a word for it instead of their femme. But- what do you think it comes from f The great value of the Saxon words is that they mean something. \Vife means weaver. You must be either houseâ€" wives or house moths, remember that. in the deep sense you must either weave men's fortunes and embroider them, or feed upon them and. bring them to decay. Wherever a true wife comes home is always around her. The stars may be over her head, the glow worm in the night’s cold grass may its the fire at her feet; but home is where she is, and for a noble woman it: stretches far around her. better than houses (to ed with cedar or painted with vermilion, shedding its quiet: light for those \\ ho are homeless. This, [ believe. is the woman’s true place information is without a ~off. ,shine, and they are very double and I have confessed all- M.†l \ \,\ \namAM lie: ’l'ONIC‘S FOR. SPRING. Delicate acid desserts or salads are especially wholesome and delicious at this season of the year, when almost every one feels the need. of this kind of diet. Pickles are by no means deleteriâ€" one to the. health as some would have us believe. Used in moderation, they are necessary to some, and the. old say- ing "Onc man's mead, is anotlher's pois~ on," certainly applies here. The best way of meeting the loss of appetite and languor so common in the spring, is with acid salads of good green- he-rbs and of fruits used in desserts. Lemons are in good supply at this season, and they make excellent. pud- dings as well as pies. A properly pre- pared lemon sauce is one of the best accompaniments of an apple 011‘ a bat- ter pudding. Valencia and other for- anges, from the Mediterranean, are now sold at a low price, and nothing could be better for dessert, either with hot pudding or cold jellies. The veri- ezty is much larger than the popularâ€" ohloioe desserts would indicate. us about one-fourth of the peel of. oranges or lemons should be used with juice; in- deed, orange deserts are almost tasteless if made without grated peel. Only the reddish skinned ones haven sweet rind, and hivereliore are the only ones valuable in cookery. They are raised now in California as well as on the borders of the Mediterranean. Ev- ery scrap should be saved to be pwt in (the dessert or to be candied or made into orange extract. The bitter rinds of paleskinncd orâ€" anges, which usually have the sweetest pulp, may be uscd for kimdling. and will prove as useful as kerosene, Uhough i not at all dangerous. They must be' kept. in a warm place where they can dlry, and the odor given forth when they burn will make them pleasant as well as a. desirable substitute for fuel. Only a few peels are needed to kindle a fire. The strawberry pineapple is another cheap fruit which may be advantag- eously used in uhe Spring. it makes a delicious hot dumpling or fruit frit- tor, and mixed wihh. roooanui. or with- out. a good jelly or Bavarian cream can be produced. The juice of the pine- apple has sometimes cured obstinate cases of indigestion. Grape fruit. is also a valuable tonic for breakfast food, and is served after the bitter skin and rind have been torn FLOWER NOTES. Foxlrloves arebest planted away from scarlet flowers as their purplish pink spikes do not harmonize with that col- or. The pure white foxgloves are ef- fective against a. background of dark foliage, when planted in large clumps, having astalely effect. They remain in flower a. long time. They can be planted in April and only ask :ltliinâ€" ning out if too thick and an Occasional stirring of the soil. The dwarf, otherâ€" wise known as the California sunflowâ€" er, is a variety which well deserves a good word and a good place in the garden. Its foliage is clean and of an attractiVe dark green; its blossoms of a clear bright, yellow, the hue of sun~ about the size of a well grown dahlia. In fact they resemble the old form of that flower to a considerable degree. As a low hedge a row of dwarf sunâ€" flowers is literally “a blooming sucâ€" cess,†and we incline to give it pres fercnce over the Zinnia for the pun pose. it is tlllflfllljlll to think of sun~ flowers in presence of this compact, clean, bright faced double flower. Afr. Meehan says that the cvomnion defect in flowering shrub bushes ~â€" that they get; too strong at the top; and weak at the bottom instead of forming shapely specimens-can be easâ€" ily remedied by pruning in early sumâ€" mer. the trouble are cut as near the ground as possible the sap which would now go into them goes into the weaker ones and in this way a uniformity of growth occurs throughout the whole. This is the only way to make shapely speci- mens. If left till winter and then simply sheared back, as is often the case, the top branches grow stronger than ever the next season and the bush is made worse than ever. A correspondent of the Garden and“ ’li‘orest tells of some hollyhocks plant- ed five or six years ago on land on- riched by an old wood pile and since left to themselves. They have inâ€" creased and multiplied in the rich soil, sending up many seedlings and group- ing themselves in beautiful colonies. All shades of bloom are now seen from white through pale flesh tints to deep maroon, varied by buff and lemon tintâ€" ed flowers. They have crowded out. the weeds that disputed territory with them, and now own the soil. Hollyhocks are ideal flowers for such waste plaâ€" ces. ’ I l The double zonal geraniums are alâ€" most entirely superseded nowadays by the semiâ€"double forms, which have al- so replaced the single forms, which fade rapidly in the sun. The single forms, however, are good for winter house plants, giving large trusses of bright bloom. To produce the finest plants cuttings should be rooted in July in a compost of equal parts of sand, leaf mold and loam. As the polsl fill with roots the plants should lml slvil‘md on till they are in six-intthl if the strong shoots which makeL pots. The soil for the later shifts need not contain so much sand or leaf mold but should be rich. All flower bud should be removed as they appear on the points of the. shoots be occasionally, pinched in to keep a bushy habit. They may be allowed to begin to blossom in October and will then appreClate an occasional watering with weak liquid ‘ manure water. If properly handled there should be abundance of bloom during the winter and everyone_ knows how bright and gay the geranium is. Mochan‘s Monthly says the win Eng- lish daisy, the “wee, modest, crimson‘ tippct" flower, celebrated by Burns. is abundant. in a wild state, and just as luxuriant in habit, in the vicinity of Victoria, 8.0., as if. in- its English or Scotch home. No doubt it had err coped from cultivation in the first; in- stance, and this shows how, sometimes, plants adapt themselves to a new environment. and become as much at home as if in their own original habi- tat. . ‘ 7.- SOME \VAYS TO COOK EGGS. Tomato 0melet.â€"~Drain half pint 0.! canned tomatoes in a sieve, melt two ounces butter in a frying pan and add the tomatoes, seasoning with half a teaspoonful of salt, a quarter teaspoon. ful pepper, and the same of sugar. Cook} for ten minutes. Beat six eggs until’ very light, :1de them to the tomatoes and stir a few minutes. Then let it) rest, flor one minute. ls‘old. bhe omelet over, slip it on a hot plate and serve. Eggs in Coronaswl’lace a saucepan with two ounces butter, two tablespoon- fuls fineâ€"chopped white onions over the fire and cook for three minutes. :Add half cupful fineâ€"sliced mushrooms, cooking slowly for five minutes. Seas. on wild). half teaspoonful salt. one- eighth teaspoonful pepper and one lea- spoonful parsley. Cook two minutes. Remove and divide these fine herbs in six small earthen saucepans. called 00- lng oxcr them it little salt and a little and put one in each saucepan. sprinkl- ing over them a little salt. and a little melted butter, bake in a hot. oven till the white of egg is firm. and serve. Egg .la‘ondue.~Beat two eggs very, light. add two tablespooufuls milk and beat again, adding two tablespooufull grated olmese. Butter two small earlh~ an saucepans, pour in the mixture and. bake in a .hot oven about, five minutes. Eggs with Cheese in-Cuses.â€"â€"-Butt6r some small china cases. put one rawt egg in each one, sprinkle over a little salt and white pepper, a tablespoonlul of grated cheese and a little melted. butter and bread crumbs. Bake for a few minutes in a hot o'vcu. Egg Croquetlewdehop fine three hardâ€"boiled eggs, melt half tablespoon- ful butter, and half tableslmnful flour, stir and cook two minutes adding hall cup milk, oneâ€"quarter teaspoonful salt, oneâ€"eighth teaspoonful pepper and one- quarter teaSpoonful English mustard. Stir and cook two minutes. then add thoï¬â€˜i‘" r chopped eggs, one Leasnoonful chopped parsley and one raw yolk of egg. Stir a moment and spread the preparation on a dish to cool. Grate some stale Mead and boat. one egg in a soup plate till light. Divide the croquette mix- ture into nine equal parts, take cach' part separately in a spoon and dip it in the beaten egg. 'l‘hen roll in the bread crumbs, lay it. on aboard, and with two table knives form into a cnrk~shap« ed croquelte. When they are llll form- ed. fry them in hot. fat to a. fine golden color and serve wihh- the. following sauce: ~ Anthony Saucerâ€"Boil a mediumâ€"sized white onion in water five minutes, rs« move the onion and chop it fine. Place a saucepan with half tablosposonful but- ler over the fire and add the onion; half, a bayleaf and six whole eppers. Cook three minutes, adding ha f table- spoonful flour. Stir and cook two min- utes. Then add one cupful canned boâ€" matoes, oneâ€"quarter ((‘aspoonful salt, oneâ€"eighth pepper and a pinch of sugar. Cook slowly ten minutes, stirring often. Then rub the tomatoes through a sieve, mix the yolk of an egg with two table- spoonfuls cream; add it; to the sauce and serve. .â€".â€"â€"â€"â€".â€" “LOOK lNDIAN" FOR IT. \Vhen you drop a. small object on the floor, " look lndian†and you're sure to find. it. Here is the modus op- erandi: Somebody drbpped a stickpln in the hall the other day and had hard work to find it. She hunted high and low, and on her hands and knees, and with‘ a. candle specially procured for the purpose, but it was no use; the pin was very tiny and unperceivable, its value being that of association, rather than size or brilliancy. The somebody after a final shake of the rugs, was just about to gilve it. up for her, when one of the children chanced to come along. "\Vhry don't you look ‘Indian' for it 2’" he asked. Before the somebody realized what was meant, down dropâ€" pod the youngster on the floor, his head and his whole body lying sidewise, and just as close‘ to the dead level as posâ€" sible, In this position his eyes roved rapidly over the floor, “I have it," he shouted presently, and sure enough right in the middle of the floor, in so plain in place that. it had escaped notice, was the missing stickpin. The youngâ€" ster then explained that "looking Indian " meant. putting the head to the ground in order to catch sight of the smallest object betwccn oneself and the horizon. "Theav do it on the plains all the time,†he said. " That‘s why they can always tell who's coming. But it works on houses just as well as on tho, pdaj‘ns. W'hy, we never losu any- thing in the nursery nowadays: we just “look lndian' and find it right OLE.â€