The Gates of Chance

eman's Vi

Call at 4020 Madison Avenue at a quarter before eight this evening.

rush hours, and, as usual, there was a jam of vehicles and pedestrians at the Fourth Avenue and Twenty-third Street crossing. The subway contractors were still at work here, and the available street space was choked with their stagings and temporary footwalks. The inevitable consequent was congestion; here were two of the principal thoroughfares of the city crossing each other at right angles, and with hardly enough room, at the point of intersection, for the traffi

it out of the way in the shortest possible time consistent with the avoidance of the threatened catastrophe. Meanwhile, the jam of cars and trucks kept piling up until there w

was forced forward willy-nilly. Arrived at the other side of the street, I drew out of the press as quickly as possible, and it was then that I discovered Mr. Indiman's carte de visite tightly clutched in my left hand. Impossible to conjectu

e a seat at his table. I loathe Jeckley, and so I explained polite

am finishing my coffee," persisted th

r earlier than usual

in the least about Mr. J

what do you think of that by way of an extra assignment?" He took a card from his pocket-book and tossed it over. It was anothe

eature who would stick at nothing in the manufacture of a sensation. The Scare-Head is his god, and he holds nothing else sacred in heaven and earth. He would sacri

I read aloud. "

the name?" a

"It's unfamili

," he said. "And the name isn't to be found in t

men; I never should have thought

erefore?" I ask

ard was shoved into my ha

he

lot of people around, and I haven't the

does i

head. "What will

e the call,

cour

tain is not until eight-thirty. Tell you what, old man; come along with me and see the thing to

featured, along with the other exhibits in th

time. Adios!" He disappeared, and I let him depart willingly enough. Later on I went up to the library for a smoke-no fear of encountering any Jeckleys there, and, in fact, the room was

eing one on the big writing-table in the

empty tray-the fragments of a torn-up visiting-card.

tty well what I should find. Completed, the puzzle read, "Mr. Esper Indiman,"

for example. I'm supposed to be a gentleman of leisure and means. Leisure, certainly, but the means are slender enough, and proceeding in a diminishing ratio. That's the penalty of having been born a rich man's son and educated chiefly in the arts of riding off at polo and thrashing a single-sticker to windward in a

creditors there was left-I'm ashamed to say how little, and, anyway, it's no one's business; the debts were paid. What is a man to do, at thirty-odd, who has never turned his hand to

life membership in the club-what a Christmas present that has turned out to be!-and twice in the week I dine the

t rate of expenditure, I could hold out until Easter, but there have been contingencies. To illustrate,

of the pawn-shop and the dropping down one degree at a time. If, in the end, it shall be shown clearly that the line is to be crossed, I shall walk over it quietly and as a man

y of No. 4020 Madison Avenue. A tall man was descending the steps; I recognized Bingham, a member of my

ht one glimpse of his face as he hurried away, and it looked gray under the electrics. Call it the effect of the a

on-charity, if you insist upon it. But I had been unfortunate. None of my particular friends had chanced to be around, and Jeckley's cocktail had been the only hospitality proffered me. You remember that my pocket had been picked yesterday morning, a

chosen to fish in muddy waters, and his rashness but matched my necessity. A h

nd a most respectable lookin

y," he said, before I had a chance

small reception-room on the right of the entrance hall. "Will you have the Po

about me, for the room, while handsomely furn

eight o'clock, and for obvious considerations I did not wish that he should find me waiting here. It was eight

istinctly; he seemed to be put out about so

isn't it? Mr. Indiman-I was asked

me the answer. "This is No. 402

an-Mr. Esper Indiman

ard the n

then, who doe

ohnson Snell. But he's at dinn

nder his breath as he turned to go. T

son Snell, who was this Mr. Esper Indiman, whose identity had been so freely admitted to me and so explicitly denied to Jeckley? The inference was obvious that Jeckley had failed to pass the first inspection test, and

r Mr. Indiman. To each caller the answer was returned that no Mr. Indiman was known at No.

at nine o'clock. The series had, therefore, come to an

otherwise empty stomach. Whatever the cause, I suddenly became conscious that I was passing into a state of high mental tension;

not after the fashion that might have been expected. As though by magic, the horrible tension relaxed; my ne

table when I entered the room; now I saw three objects lying there. I walked up and examined them. As they lay towards me, the first was a ten-thousand-dollar bi

rp and requests the honor of his company at dinn

adison

I'm not ashamed to confess it. Perhaps the choice I made may seem inevitable, but what if you had seen Bingham's face as I did, with the arc

the gardenia blossom that lay beside the letter and stuck it into the button-hole of my dinner-jacket. I looked down at the table, and it seemed t

s forty years of age. An agreeable face, for all of the tired droop about the mouth and the deep lines in the forehead; it could light up, too, upon occasion, as I was soon to discove

dently was, rose and bow

own; but, as my note said, I dine at nine. I

begin with the filet

mbled, but I succeeded in helping myself

over the Roman punch. "To particularize, there is the curious impertinent, the merely foolish person, and the man in extremis rerum. Now I have no liking for the dog-faced breed, as

ar Mr. Thorp, shall we drink to our bet

nued, airily. "It is sufficient that we are of the same mind in our a

they are positive; one may overcome or, at least, forget them. But suppose you stand confronting the negative of existence; the

That last amused me-a little. I was the second man to arrive at Bordeaux in the Paris-Madrid race of

ss band. Where is the heart of life, if not at one's elbow? At the farthest, one has only to turn the corner of the street. It is

. I selected you, tentatively, from the mob; later on I made

the silver bowl in the centre o

rdenia-" I looked at my bu

ption-room. Merely the effect produced by a mixture of certain chemical gases turned on from a tap under my hand. Then the c

ggest to your mind the three objects on the table, and you saw them. The bank-note, the

ould have destroyed the value of the test to me. But, as I had hoped,

r two days, and I detected the odor of that exquisite filet. No

try door closed. But it does not matter; I am sat

emarkable portrait-little as I know about pictures, I could see that clearly enough. A three-quar

host, carelessly. "You may have see

ted and glazed? The edges of the canvas were jagged and uneven, as though it had been

e phantasms of a disordered digestion; where had I eaten that Welsh rabbit? The morning paper had been thrown over the transom, and, f

t have been stolen, cut bodily from its frame and carried away. The theft took place several months ago, but the secret has just become public property. The absence of the picture from

ich I had not noticed until now.

re rather taken with my 'Red Duchess'; we will ask the lady to preside over o

tend to accept