McAllister and His Double

. He thanked God he had no brats to buy moo-cows and bow-wows for. The very nonchalance of these victims of a fate that had given them familie

filled before him. His select and exclusive circle called him "Chubby," and his five-and-forty years of terrapin and cocktails had given him a graceful rotu

. Everybody had gone out of town to spend Christmas with someone else, and the Winthrops, on whom he had counted for a certain

by the smouldering logs on the six-foot hearth. A servant in livery entered, pulled down the sha

!" growled McAllister.

. Tomlin

swore under

r," repl

hot a quick

y anything.

er got almost

Tomlinson if he w

h the intelligence that Mr.

r to himself. "No one ever knew

rt had been made to conceal the absence of news by summarizing the ac

OF PR

-House Commission

ED OF PRIS

er than the people who lived in them deserved. He recalled Wilkins, his valet, who had stolen his black pearl scarf-pin. It increased his ill-humor. Hang Wilkins! The thief was

served,"

bored. Tomlinson was a thin man who knew everything positively. McAllister hated him. He always felt when in his company like the woman who invariably answered her

t is outrageous! The people are crowded in like cattle; t

last straw

our prisons. The law of supply and demand regulates the tenements; and who pays for the prisons, I'd like to know? We pay for 'em, and the scamps that rob us live in 'em for nothing. The Tombs is a great deal better

about it? I tell

n hesitated politely, remembering tha

now," affirme