Various / 2008-08-02 00:00:00
And now good night."
"Goornight, sir."
Retiring softly to his own room, under the same roof, the author of "The
Amateur Detective" smiled at himself before the mirror with marked
complacency. "You're a long-headed one, my dead-beat friend," he said,
archly, "and your great American Novel is likely to be a respectable
success."
There sounded a crash upon a floor, somewhere in the house, and he held
his breath to listen. It was the Ritualistic organist going to bed.
(_To be Continued._)
[Footnote 1: The few remaining chapters with which it is proposed to
conclude this Adaptation of "_The Mystery of Edwin Drood_," should not
be construed as involving presumptuous attempt to divine that full
solution of the latter which the pen of its lamented author was not
permitted to reach. No further correspondence with the tenor of the
unfinished English story is intended than the Adapter will endeavor to
justify to his own conscience, and that of his reader, by at least one
unmistakable foreshadowing circumstance of the original publication,
which, strangely enough, has been wholly overlooked, thus far, by those
speculating upon the fate of the missing hero.]
[Footnote 2: See Chapter III., _The Mystery of Edwin Drood._]
* * * * *
An Old Saw with a Modern Instance.
The Farthing Candle of New York journalism appears to be trying to find
what political party he can best bully into offering the largest reward
for his conscientious support.
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