Solution Manual for Concepts of Database

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Concepts of Database Management, Eighth Edition Solutions 1-2

11. It is possible to get more information from the same amount of data by using a database approach as opposed to a
nondatabase approach because all data is stored in a single database, instead of being stored in dozens of separate
files, making the process of obtaining information quicker, easier, and even possible in certain situations.
12. Sharing of data means that several users can have access to the same piece of data and use it in a variety of ways.
13. The DBA (database administrator or database administration) is the central person or group in an organization in
charge of the database and the DBMS that runs the database. The DBA attempts to balance the needs of individuals
and the overall needs of the organization.
14. Multiple copies of the same data in an organization leads to inconsistency because each piece of data can have
different values. Controlling redundancy is the result of eliminating, or at least reducing, the multiple copies.
Improved consistency is the result of this controlled redundancy.
15. An integrity constraint is a rule that the data in a database must follow. A database has integrity when the data in it
satisfies all established integrity constraints. A good DBMS should provide an opportunity for users to incorporate
these integrity constraints when they design the database. The DBMS then should ensure that these constraints are
not violated.
16. Security is the prevention of access to the database by unauthorized users. A DBMS provides security features such
as passwords. As additional security, the DBA can assign users to groups and restrict each group to certain data and
to certain types of access.
17. Data independence is the property that lets you change the structure of a database without requiring you to change
the programs that access the database. With data independence, you easily can change the structure of the database
when the need arises.
18. In a database environment, file size is a disadvantage because the DBMS is a large program that occupies a great
amount of disk space and internal memory. Also, because all the data that the database manages for you is stored in
one file, the database file itself requires a large amount of disk space and internal memory.
19. The more complex a product is in general (and a DBMS, in particular, is complex), the more difficult it is to
understand and correctly apply its features. As a result of this complexity, serious problems may result from
mistakes made by users and designers of the DBMS.
20. In a nondatabase environment, each user has a completely separate system; the failure of any single user’s system
does not necessarily affect any other user. On the other hand, if several users are sharing the same database, a failure
on the part of any one user that damages the database in some way might affect all the other users.
21. The great complexity of a database structure makes recovery more difficult. In addition, many users update the data
at the same time, which means that recovering the database involves not only restoring it to the last state in which it
was known to be correct, but also performing the complex task of redoing all the updates made since that time.
22. [Critical Thinking] Answers will differ but students should have reasons for their responses. Any error to a student
transcript/record, such as incorrect grade, courses not listed correctly; incorrect contact information could be an error
that may cause a student to lose a job opportunity, a scholarship, or a loan. It also could affect whether they
graduate.

23. [Critical Thinking] No. The only attributes that would be the same would be contact and demographic information
such as, name, address, phone number, age, and gender. Other attributes are specific to the database context. A
medical database would have attributes to describe, for example, health conditions, previous appointments, lab
results. and medications. A student database would have attributes to describe, for example, courses taken, advisor,
gpa, number of credits, and academic major. A fitness database would have attributes to describe for example,
membership level, athletic ability, fitness classes, fees, and liability waivers.

Answers to TAL Distributors Exercises

Note: Data and solution files are available at www.cengage.com. Data files consist of copies of the TAL Distributors,
Colonial Adventure Tours, and Solmaris Condominium Group databases that are usable in Access 2010 and Access 2013,
and script files to create the tables and data in these databases in other systems, such as Oracle.

©2015 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be copied, scanned, or duplicated, in whole or in part, except for use as permitted
in a license distributed with a certain product or service or otherwise on a password-protected website for classroom use.
Concepts of Database Management, Eighth Edition Solutions 1-3

1. Toys Galore, The Everything Shop, Johnson’s Department Store, Grove Historical Museum Store, Cards and More,
Cricket Gift Shop, Unique Gifts, and All Season Gifts
2. Patience, Mancala, and Cribbage Set
3. 51617, 51623
4. DR67, Giant Star Brain Teaser, $766.80; FH24, Puzzle Gift Set, $2531.75; KD34, Pentominoes Brain Teaser,
$897.00; MT03, Zauberkasten Brain Teaser, $2,060.55
5. The Everything Shop, Almondton General Store
6. Grove Historical Museum Store
7. $11,406.35 ($1210.25 Toys Galore; $5,025.75 Cards and More; $4,234.60 Cress Store; $935.75 All Season Gifts)
8. 51608, 10/12/2015, 126, Toys Galore; 51610, 10/12/2015, 334, The Everything Shop; 51613, 10/13/2015, 386,
Johnson’s Department Store; 51614, 10/13/2015, 260, Brookings Direct; 51617, 10/15/2015, 586, Almondton
General Store; 51619, 10/15/2015, 126, Toys Galore; 51623, 10/15/2015, 586, Almondton General Store; 51625,
10/16/2015, 796, Unique Gifts
9. 51613, 10/13/2015, 386, Johnson’s Department Store; 51614, 10/13/2015, 260, Brookings Direct
10. 51617, Almondton General Store, Hui Tian; 51619, Toys Galore, Rafael Campos; 51623, Almondton General Store,
Hui Tian
11. [Critical Thinking] Answers will vary but students should have reasons for their responses. Telephone number and
email address are the most obvious choices for contact information.
12. [Critical Thinking] Answers will vary but students should have reasons for their responses. Employee is the most
obvious entity to add to the database. Another entity is department, that is, the department in which the employee
works.

Answers to Colonial Adventure Tours Case

Note: Data and solution files are available at www.cengage.com. Data files consist of copies of the TAL Distributors,
Colonial Adventure Tours, and Solmaris Condominium Group databases that are usable in Access 2010 and Access 2013,
and script files to create the tables and data in these databases in other systems, such as Oracle.
1. Abrams, Devon, Marston, Rowan, Stevens, Unser
2. Bloomfield - Maidstone, Chocorua Lake Tour, Mason’s Farm, Lake Mephremagog Tour, Long Pond Tour, Lower
Pond Tour, Missisquoi River - VT, Northern Forest Canoe Trail, Pontook Reservoir Tour
3. Mt Ascutney - North Peak, Baldpate Mountain, Bloomfield – Maidstone, Cadillac Mountain, Mason’s Farm, Lake
Mephremagog Tour, Lower Pond Tour, Metacomet-Monadnock Trail Hike, Park Loop Ride, Pontook Reservoir
Tour, Pondicherry Trail Ride, Westfield River Loop
4. Bradbury Mountain Ride, Park Loop Ride
5. Mt Ascutney - North Peak, Mt Ascutney - West Peak, Cadillac Mountain Ride, Cherry Pond, Lake Mephremagog
Tour, Mount Cardigan Hike, McLennan Reservation Hike, Missisquoi River – VT, Pondicherry Trail Ride, Seal
Beach Harbor, Sawyer River Ride
6. Mt Ascutney - West Peak, Bradbury Mountain Ride, Blueberry Mountain, Cadillac Mountain Ride, Cannon Mtn,
Huguenot Head Hikde, Low Bald Spot Hike, Mount Battie Ride, Mount Cardigan Hike, Mount Garfield Hike,
Sawyer River Ride
7. 6 (2 for CT and 4 for VT)
8. Mt Ascutney - North Peak, Long Pond, McLennan Reservation Hike
9. Bradbury Mountain Ride, Cadillac Mountain Ride, Mount Battie Ride, Westfield River Loop
10. Gernowski, Mt. Cardigan - Firescrew, Orange; Bretton-Borak, Tamworth

©2015 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be copied, scanned, or duplicated, in whole or in part, except for use as permitted
in a license distributed with a certain product or service or otherwise on a password-protected website for classroom use.
Concepts of Database Management, Eighth Edition Solutions 1-4

11. 13
12. Arethusa Falls, Hiking, Zach Gregory, Hal Rowan; Mt Ascutney - North Peak, Hiking, Miles Abrams, Lori Stevens;
Bradbury Mountain Ride, Biking, Rita Boyers, Zach Gregory; Baldpate Mountain, Hiking, Susan Kiley, Glory
Unser; Chocorua Lake Tour, Paddling, Harley Devon, Susan Kiley, Glory Unser
13. Siam Bretton-Borak, Sawyer River Ride, Biking, Chocorua Lake Tour, Paddling; Brianne Brown, Sawyer River
Ride, Biking, Cadillac Mountain Ride, Hiking; Karen Busa, Mount Garfield Hike, Hiking, Mount Battie Ride,
Biking; Clement Chau, Long Pond, Hiking, Cadillac Mountain Ride, Biking; Sadie Gernowski, Bradbury Mountain
Ride, Biking, Mt. Cardigan - Firescrew, Hiking; Ryan Goff, Mount Cardigan Hike, Hiking, Crawford Path
Presidentials Hike, Hiking; Liam Northfold, Wachusett Mountain, Hiking, Long Pond, Hiking; Arnold Ocean, Mt
Ascutney - West Peak, Hiking, Mt Ascutney - North Peak, Hiking
14. Busa, Mount Battie Ride, Biking; Gernowski, Bradbury Mountain Ride, Biking
15. Gernowski, Chau, Brown, Marchand, Busa
16. [Critical Thinking] No. You can calculate the total price by adding the trip price and the other fees and then
multiplying by the number of people.
17. [Critical Thinking] You would place the trip cost field in the Trip table.

Answers to Solmaris Condominium Group Case

Note: Data and solution files are available at www.cengage.com. Data files consist of copies of the TAL Distributors,
Colonial Adventure Tours, and Solmaris Condominium Group databases that are usable in Access 2010 and Access 2013,
and script files to create the tables and data in these databases in other systems, such as Oracle.
1. AD057, Adney, Bruce and Jean; AN175, Anderson, Bill; BL720, Blake, Jack; EL025, Elend, Bill and Sandy;
FE182, Feenstra, Daniel; JU092, Juarez, Maria; KE122, Kelly, Alyssa; NO225, Norton, Peter and Caitlin; RO123,
Robinson, Mike and Jane; SM072, Smeltz, Jim and Cathy; TR222, Trent, Michael; WS032, Wilson, Henry and
Karen
2. 3, 5, 8, 13, and 14
3. Smeltz, Jim and Cathy, 922 Garland Dr.; Wilson, Henry and Karen, 25 Nichols St.
4. Anderson, Bill, Brunswick; Robinson, Mike and Jane, Springs
5. Anderson, Bill, Brunswick; Trent, Michael, Glander Bay
6. A01, A03, B01, C01, C02, C06
7. Elend, Bill and Sandy, 201; Feenstra, Daniel, 405; Smeltz, Jim and Cathy, B01
8. 1, 201, EL025; 2, A03, TR222
9. 9, 725; 14, 1,540
10. 2, Elend (there are two service requests for CondoID 2 with the word pantry in the description)
11. [Critical Thinking] If the service fees are dependent on the type of service, the service fees would be an attribute in
the ServiceCategory table.
12. [Critical Thinking] Location supervisor attributes would be in the Location table.

©2015 Cengage Learning. All Rights Reserved. May not be copied, scanned, or duplicated, in whole or in part, except for use as permitted
in a license distributed with a certain product or service or otherwise on a password-protected website for classroom use.
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Herbert shook his head sadly. He was silent for a few moments, and
then said with much gravity:
“You mean very well, but you cannot mend matters in this instance.”
Mr. Anderson left the house looking very forlorn. He was anxious to
help Herbert, and keenly felt his inability to do so.
Tomlin had been sent out on an assignment that took him to a
remote part of the State. He remained away for a week, and Herbert
was alone during all that period. Tomlin returned unexpectedly one
evening, very anxious to hear the latest news regarding his friend
and the papers. Herbert came in late that night. His white face,
drooping mouth and hopeless eyes told their own story to Tomlin.
However he tried to disguise the feeling that was within him, and
said with assumed cheerfulness:
“Well, old boy, how have you made out in my absence? Have you
tried any of the other papers?”
“Yes,” said Herbert, “I have.”
“Which one?”
“Everyone,” said Herbert with a bitter smile, “at least everyone that
is worth considering.”
“Well, what are your prospects?”
“I have no prospects.”
“No prospects—not even in the future?”
“No,” retorted Herbert, the anger in his heart making him raise his
voice to a high pitch; “not even in the future. To be plain with you,
Tomlin, they all know about the circumstances under which I left the
Argus, and they refuse to have anything to do with me. I am
blacklisted. Do you understand that? I am blacklisted, and a
disgraced man.”
The tone of Herbert’s voice no less than what he said shocked
Tomlin very much; but he made no reply, and the two friends sat
there for many minutes staring mutely at each other.
 CHAPTER XVIII
WHEREIN A BLACK SHEEP SHOWS A DESIRE TO CHANGE
HIS COLOR

One morning not long after the conversation which has been
recorded in the previous chapter, Tomlin said to Herbert:
“See here, old chap, you are not going to throw up the sponge—I
know you’re not. You’ve got too much grit and pluck for any such
thing as that.”
“What do you mean?” asked Herbert, staring at him in an
unmeaning way.
“What do I mean? I mean that you’ve got to employ strategy. When
a soldier gets in a tight fix with the enemy, he uses the brains with
which he is endowed for the purpose of extricating himself. So it is
with the lawyer, with the business man and with mortals generally—”
“What in the world are you driving at?” interrupted Herbert.
“I know what I’m driving at,” replied the other. “Listen to what I
have to say, and then try to answer me intelligently. Can you write a
good Sunday newspaper story?”
“Can I? Why you know—”
“Of course, of course I know,” cut in Tomlin, “I only asked you that
question as a matter of form. I want you to go out and get a first-
class special story. Write it up in your most attractive style, typewrite
it on the machine we have in this room, and give it to me by this
time to-morrow.”
The hearty manner of his friend furnished just the sort of inspiration
that Herbert needed at that particular time. He went out during the
day and visited the various places where he would be likely to obtain
material for a special story. It grew quite late and he was still
without anything upon which he could base the sort of article that
would answer to the vivid description furnished by Tomlin. On his
way back to his room he stopped at an Old Man’s Home to enjoy a
chat with the superintendent, who had been his friend while he was
on the Argus, and had sometimes rendered him valuable assistance.
“Anything doing about here, Smith?” he asked.
“No,” replied the superintendent, “not a thing. This is the slowest
week we have had for a long while. It’s as dull as dishwater.”
“Sorry to hear that,” responded Herbert; “I thought in a large
community of this kind something was always happening.”
“No,” responded the other, “nothing worth printing. I’ve got a good
joke on one of the old fellows upstairs, however. He was knocked
out by a bat last night.”
“By a bat?” queried Herbert.
“Yes. You see the old chap was a colonel in the Civil War—one of the
bravest men that ever led a regiment. Well, while he was reading a
bat flew into the room, and the things that happened during the
next half hour were funny enough to make a sick cat well. The old
colonel picked up his cane and chased that bird all around the room.
The light bewildered the bat and caused it to flounder around so
blindly that half of the ornaments in the room were broken. The
colonel thought he had it at one time, though, and lifted up his cane
to give the bird its death blow; but he missed by a hair, and instead
of killing the pesky thing, he smashed two big vases that stood on
the mantel-piece. Then when he made another lunge at it his stick
went through an oil painting which I believe has been in his family
for nearly a hundred years. It was daylight before that bird was
thrust out of the room, and when the first streak of dawn penetrated
into the apartment the floors and walls resembled some place which
had just finished an unsuccessful siege with the enemy.”
“Why, that’s a pretty good story,” cried Herbert quickly, “and if you
will give me the privilege of talking to the old colonel and the chance
to look at that room, I will thank you to the day of my death.”
The superintendent was only too well pleased to do this. Herbert
obtained a picture of the valiant soldier, and borrowing a camera
from one of the inmates, made a photograph of the dismantled
room. He hurried home, and before midnight had succeeded in
grinding out an exceedingly interesting special which was entitled
“The Story of the Union Soldier and the Bat.” He turned this over to
Tomlin in the morning, and when they met in the evening again that
young man said with a considerable degree of self-satisfaction:
“Your story is accepted and will be printed, and you will be paid for it
on the first of the month.”
“But I—they—” began Herbert.
“Oh,” interrupted the other impatiently, “I know what you are going
to say. I know that you are blacklisted, but that has nothing to do
with the case. A man must earn a living, and you have a right to
your bread and butter. Besides this is a justifiable deception. I am
going to keep on selling your stuff as my own as long as you have
wit enough to write. The articles will be typewritten, and the editors
who buy them from me will not know the difference except,” with a
little laugh, “they will be a little more brilliant than the kind I am in
the habit of writing.”
“You think it’s all right?” ventured Herbert.
“Of course it’s all right. Where’s the harm? No name is signed to the
articles. The newspapers get the worth of their money. The readers
are satisfied. You are reimbursed, and I am gratified. What more
would you want?”
Herbert soon came around to this way of thinking, and then and
there started in on another article, which proved equally as saleable
as the first. Elated by the success of these two articles, he planned a
series of Sunday specials, chiefly sketches of odd phases of life in
New York City. He was industry personified, and worked so adroitly
in gathering his facts that his identity was fully concealed. One
morning, just as he was about to leave the house he received a
letter; and on tearing open the envelope, found that it was dated
from a small town in the northern part of Connecticut. It was as
follows:
“Dear Herbert:
“I would be an ingrate of the meanest type if I did not
write to you and acknowledge the great debt which I owe
to you now, and which I will continue to owe till the day
of my death. I fully realize that if it had not been for your
interference and kindness I would have been arrested,
and myself and the members of my family disgraced. But
sometimes bad beginnings have good results, and the
merest incidents prove to be the turning point in a man’s
career. I am satisfied now that the little episode which
occurred at the post office a few weeks ago is going to
prove the making of me. I know that I have been indolent
and worthless; that I was foolish enough to contract bad
and vicious associations, and that I have been guilty of
many disreputable things. Somehow or other I went along
doing these things without thinking of the meanness that
was involved in them. Looking back upon them now, I can
see very readily how little incidents repeated many times
led to bad habits, and how these bad habits were
gradually undermining my whole character.
“I do not ask you to believe me, but I am going to tell you
just the same, that from the instant you gave me the
kindly warning in the post office building I made up my
mind that if I were given the opportunity I would lead a
better life in the future. I am now making this effort with
all the courage at my command. It’s a hard job, but I
believe that I am going to come out a winner. I have
secured honest employment in this little town, and I
intend to remain here till I am fully satisfied that I am fit
to associate with manly and self-respecting persons like
yourself. Kindly consider this letter sent in confidence, and
not to be revealed till you hear from me further.
 “Very truly yours,
“Arthur Black.”
Herbert was delighted with this missive. It repaid him for the great
sacrifice he had made—not for Arthur Black—but for his sister. His
first thought was to call on Mary and assure her that her brother
was alive and well; but upon mature reflection he abandoned this as
being unwise. From that day, however, Herbert put more heart into
his work. He still depended upon his voluntary contributions to the
newspapers, and while he longed for a permanent position on the
staff of one of the large dailies, he felt that he would have to bide
his time before he reached such a desirable post.
During these days he often thought of his father, and more than
once he recalled the dramatic scene when his father and the strange
visitor were seated at the table together in their little home at
Cleverly. He had frequently resolved to run out the mystery of that
night, and now he vowed it with more than usual vehemence.
Everywhere he went he tried to discover some signs of the queer
stranger. It seemed a hopeless task, but he resolved to persist in it
till the end. One evening, while he was walking down Cortlandt
street, his gaze was attracted by a big, broad-shouldered man who
was walking along the street four or five yards in advance of him.
There was something very familiar about those bulky shoulders. He
looked again, and as his glance traveled upward he suddenly
realized that the man had a shock of bushy red hair. Recognition was
instantaneous; it was the man he had been looking for for so long.
He pushed his way through the crowd, and at one time was almost
able to reach the mysterious person by stretching out his hands; but
at that critical moment a heavily laden truck intervened, and the
queer one gained several yards on him. It was evident that he was
making for the ferry house to take the boat which ran to Jersey City.
Just before they reached the pier the bell began to ring its warning
signal. The crowd hurried. The man with the red hair and the bulky
shoulders ran rapidly towards the boat, with Herbert after him
panting for breath.
“Hurry up!” shouted the gateman to the approaching crowd.
The big man redoubled his speed, and just as he entered the ferry
slip and got aboard the bell rang for the second time, the iron gate
was slammed to with a bang, and Herbert found himself standing on
the wharf, gazing at the boat churning its way towards the shores of
New Jersey.
 CHAPTER XIX
PERSISTENCE HAS ITS REWARD AND HERBERT FINALLY
MEETS THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER

Herbert Harkins was now consumed with a burning desire to meet

the mysterious stranger. He had an actual interest in clearing the
memory of his father; but above and beyond that he was now filled
with a boyish curiosity which insisted upon being satisfied. The
thought of the stranger occupied his waking hours, and even
disturbed his rest at night. When he was out of doors he stared at all
the big men he happened to meet, in order to discover, if possible, a
burly man with broad shoulders and a shock of red hair. At times this
peculiar quest seemed so absurd that he felt like abandoning it
altogether; but such periods of depression were invariably followed
by a resolution to persevere till he had accomplished his desire.
This sort of thing went on day after day without bringing any
practical results. Just when Herbert was beginning to tire of it, the
thought flashed across his mind that publicity was frequently a way
of obtaining things that could not be found by ordinary efforts. In
other words, he flew to the personal columns of the daily
newspapers for assistance. The result of this was the following
advertisement which appeared one morning in the New York Herald:
“Will the stranger who called on David Harkins at Cleverly very late
one night about five years ago kindly send his address to H. H., care
of General Delivery, Post Office. By doing so he may be the
instrument of redeeming the memory of a good man.”
Herbert was very much pleased with the phrasing of this
advertisement. There was an air of romance about it that appealed
quite strongly to his youthful fancy. The day after its appearance he
hurried to the post office with the expectation of receiving a letter,
but he was doomed to disappointment. No reply of any kind had
been received. On the second day he called at the post office again,
and this time was rewarded by the receipt of a very much soiled
postal card. The writer informed him that he had called on David
Harkins at Cleverly about five years ago and would be glad to meet
the person who was in quest of information. The address given was
that of a low-grade lodging house on the Bowery. Herbert felt a trifle
disappointed at the tone of this communication, but nevertheless
resolved to run it out to the end. He visited the Bowery that
afternoon, and was received by a short, stout man with a very red
nose and a somewhat husky voice.
“You sent me this postal card,” said Herbert, exhibiting the square
piece of manila board.
“Yes,” said the other, with a leer, “what is there in it for me if I give
you the information you are after?”
“I don’t know that that has anything to do with it,” said Herbert.
“Oh, yes,” retorted the other, with a chuckle, “it has everything to do
with it, my young chappie. I’m a business man.”
“A business man?” queried Herbert.
“Yes, sir, a business man. My motto is, no cash no information.
That’s plain enough, isn’t it?”
“Too plain,” said Herbert, picking up his hat and starting towards the
door.
“Hold on!” cried the other, jumping up; “I don’t want much from you,
and I’ll tell you anything you wish to know.”
“I have no doubt of it,” replied Herbert; “but unfortunately you are
not the man I want.”
“Oh, yes, I am,” insisted the other eagerly, “I’m the man that called
on David Harkins at Cleverly.”
Herbert shook his head and shrugged his shoulders; then as if it
were an afterthought, he turned to the seedy-looking person and
said:
“Do you insist that you are the identical man who called on David
Harkins?”
“I insist,” repeated the man, trying to draw himself up in a dignified
way.
“Now, I am sure that I have no business with you,” said Herbert,
“because it so happens that the man who called on David Harkins
had bright red hair—it was bushy, too, while you are almost bald-
headed and your hair is black.”
The fellow snickered a little at this, and said:
“I lost me hair durin’ a very bad attack o’ fever.”
Herbert could not forbear smiling himself.
“I suppose the color turned, too, at the same time.”
“Yes,” answered the man, “it did indeed. You needn’t laugh.
Scientific men will tell you that a man’s hair often changes color in a
single night.”
“Well, good-by,” said Herbert, “I’ll leave you to settle that with the
scientists.”
Three weeks passed by after this amusing episode and Herbert
received no further replies from the personal that he had inserted in
the Herald. He was reading the paper one afternoon, and while
running his trained eye down the many columns of small
advertisements, happened to see his own name in print. He looked
closer, and this is what he read:
“If Herbert Harkins, son of the late David Harkins, of Cleverly, New
Jersey, will make his whereabouts known to the undersigned, he
may learn of something to his advantage. Write without delay to
Captain Thomas Janson, Anchor Inn, Jersey City, N. J.”
Feverish with anxiety, Herbert immediately sent a letter in response
to this advertisement. Within forty-eight hours after that he received
an answer, written in a large, sprawling hand, inviting him to call on
Captain Janson at his domicile in Jersey City. He responded without
delay. He found Anchor Inn to be an obscure hotel in a deserted part
of the town. It was a popular resort for seafaring men. Upon inquiry
for Captain Janson, he was informed that the Captain had removed
that very morning to a new two-story house which he had erected
on the outskirts of the city. He had left a message for Herbert,
however, giving him explicit directions where he could find his new
domicile.
Herbert listened very carefully, and then made his way to the
address that had been given him. He found it to be the quaintest
looking house it had ever been his good fortune to gaze upon. The
front of it was shaped like the prow of a boat, and under the eaves
of the house was a wooden effigy of a mermaid, shaped and painted
like those used upon sailing craft in the Eastern waters. He rang the
bell, and the call was answered by a colored youth dressed up in
blue clothing, with brass buttons, to represent a cabin boy. He was
ushered into a small, low-ceilinged apartment which resembled the
captain’s quarters upon a boat. The beds on either side of the room
were fitted up to resemble bunks. The windows had been so
constructed that they were perfect reproductions of port holes. A
little desk, a brass-rimmed clock, such as can be seen in the cabins
of pleasure yachts, a coil of rope, a large marine glass, and cheap
colored pictures of the admirals of the United States Navy adorned
the walls of this strangely furnished room.
Presently the door of an adjoining apartment opened and a big,
brawny man, with the rolling gait of a sailor, entered the room. His
face was as red as a boiled lobster; his hands were thick-skinned
and broad. He had wide shoulders and—this detail made an
immediate impression upon Herbert—he also possessed a heavy
shock of red hair. The identification was complete. This man, beyond
a doubt, was the person who had been with his father on that
eventful night.
“Avast there, my hearty!” shouted the newcomer, putting out his
broad hand to meet the outstretched palm of his caller; “what are
you doing aboard my craft?”
“My name is Herbert Harkins,” said the young man, “and I came
here in response to your letter.”
The seaman stopped short with an exclamation on the tip of his
tongue. He stood in the center of the room with his hands on his
hips and rolled his head from side to side as he stared at Herbert
with unblinking eyes. The scrutiny appeared to satisfy him.
“So you’re Dave Harkins’ boy, are you? Well, you look like him; you
look like him just as he appeared when he was a young man. You’re
different from him in some ways, but the resemblance is there just
the same. You’re more like a chip off the old block than the old block
itself. Now, boy, take a seat on that steamer chair there, get out
your log book and tell me all about your journey through life.”
“All right, sir,” replied Herbert, taking the proffered seat; “I’ll do so.”
“By the way,” interrupted the Captain, “before you talk about
yourself, tell me about your father.”
“You know that father is dead?” began Herbert.
“Yes, I know that,” answered the other, “but I want some details
about it.”
“All right, I’ll try to give them to you.”
“By the way,” he interrupted again, as Herbert started to talk, “will
you have a glass of grog to wet your whistle?”
“No, sir,” replied Herbert, “I don’t drink.”
“Good for you; you’re a good deal better without it; but an old salt
like myself couldn’t do without his pipe and his grog, especially in his
old days.”
Herbert then proceeded to tell the old sailor all about his father, and
when he spoke of the mysterious midnight visit and the cloud of
false rumors that had arisen therefrom the Captain’s face clouded
and he walked up and down the floor of his little cabin shaking his
fist.
“The lubbers!” he shouted, “they ought to have been tied to the
mast and given a dose of a cat o’ nine tails.”
Having finished this part of his narrative, Herbert then proceeded to
tell the story of his own life, and at its conclusion the old salt put out
his brawny hand, and taking Herbert’s, gave it a hearty grasp.
“Your story is mighty interesting. I’m mighty glad to hear it, and I
think I am in a position to be your friend.”
“I am glad of that,” responded Herbert, “and I’m very curious to find
out the real meaning of that midnight visit.”
“I’ll give it to you, my boy, and in mighty quick order. I was a
boyhood chum of your father. We grew up together, went to school
together, and one never had a thing that wasn’t shared by the other.
I had no idea of the sea in my youth; but shortly after I got to be a
boy of about your age I was entrusted with a sum of money
belonging to another person. I was a sort of trustee. In an evil
moment some fellow came along and showed me how it would be
possible to double the money without any risk. I tried it, and lost
every cent. While I was in this condition, I was called upon to make
an accounting of the trust money. In my extremity I went to your
father and explained everything. He gave me every penny that he
had in the world in order to make good the loss, and my reputation
was saved and I had learned a lesson that I have never forgotten
since then. I was a wild boy in my younger days. I owed a great
deal of money, and finally determined to take to the sea as a means
of cooling down my hot blood. During the next ten years I sailed
over every part of the civilized globe. I became a master and traded
extensively in the Chinese seas. I was fortunate, made money, and
finally came home to retire upon my savings.
“The first man I thought of,” said the Captain, leaning back in his
easy chair, “was Dave Harkins. I determined to hunt him up and pay
him the few hundred dollars he had so generously given me at a
critical time in my life. I got to Cleverly late at night; the hotel was
closed so that I was unable to secure accommodations there. The
thought struck me that I might find Harkins at home. I went to his
house, and fortunately found him at a moment when he needed my
help just as I had formerly needed his. I compelled him to take that
thousand dollars, and I made a condition that he was not to tell of
my whereabouts until I got ready to make myself known to the
world. I wanted to clear up all of my old debts and to rehabilitate
myself before my old friends before I revealed my identity. After
leaving him I went to New York, and carrying out a program that
had already been arranged, went abroad to settle up some business
interests that I had in Liverpool. I came back, only to hear that
David Harkins was dead. I was told that the family had moved from
Cleverly, and accepted the report without attempting to verify it.
Years went by, but I was never quite satisfied. I hunted around in a
vague sort of way to find Harkins’ boy. Only last week it occurred to
me that a personal in the Herald might bring some results, and
thank goodness it did, because here you are with me in the flesh.”
“I am very grateful to hear all of this,” said Herbert after the old
sailor had finished; “I can assure you that it makes me very happy
indeed. I never doubted my father at any time; but it is a great
satisfaction to have the whole matter settled and to have these
painful rumors dispelled as you have dispelled them.”
The Captain arose from his chair, took a turn or two around the
room, and then putting his arm around Herbert’s shoulder, said:
“My boy, we’ll dispel them in such a way that they’ll never be heard
of again. Mark one thing down, and mark it down plain: I’m your
friend, and your friend for life.”
 CHAPTER XX
IN WHICH A STAIN IS REMOVED FROM THE MEMORY OF AN
INNOCENT MAN

Herbert remained with Captain Janson for several hours. The man
and the boy were mutually attracted. After some further
conversation regarding David Harkins, the sailor said:
“Now tell me your story.”
Herbert did so as briefly and as modestly as possible. He told of his
difficulty with the Argus; but discreetly avoided all reference to
Arthur Black and the manner in which he had saved him at the
expense of his own position.
“My boy,” said the Captain, when he had concluded, “it’s all right;
don’t worry about these little things. The first thing we have to do is
to straighten out the memory of your father with the people of
Cleverly. You know how these stories stick in small communities. My
boy, we’ll hoist sail and bear down on the port of Cleverly at once,
and when we land there we’ll let the natives know a thing or two.
We’ll let ’em know that David Harkins was one of Nature’s noblemen,
and now that he’s gone to Davy Jones’ locker, he has left a friend
and a son who will take care of his memory.”
The following day they both took the train and went to Cleverly.
Their first visit was to the office of the Cleverly Banner, where
Captain Jansen was introduced to Noah Brooks. The editor and the
sailor had not talked for ten minutes before they became fast
friends. Presently they were joined by Horace Coke, the lawyer, who
had always been a friend of the Harkins family, and who was
delighted with the turn things had taken. After a general
conversation in which all hands joined, the sailor suddenly pounded
his hand on the desk, and said earnestly:
“Messmates, I’m here for a purpose, and a specific purpose. Dave
Harkins was an honest man. I want everybody else to know that
fact. How can I do it?”
Noah Brooks scratched his head for awhile, and then said musingly:
“You might print a story in the Banner, telling all about your visit that
night, and explaining how you came to give him those ten $100 bills.
How does that strike you?”
“Pardon me,” interrupted the lawyer, “but that doesn’t strike me very
favorably. It would look forced. Besides everybody knows that
Brooks is a friend of Herbert Harkins, and some people might be
inclined to think the story was a little overdrawn.”
“Yes, that’s so,” admitted Brooks, “but I hardly know how you can
get around it in any other way. Besides, I would do this thing freely
and voluntarily. It is not a question of expense or money.”
“Money!” shouted the old sailor, “who said anything about money? I
want you to understand that money is not to stand in the way of this
business. There isn’t any expenditure that I could make that would
help the memory of Dave Harkins that I wouldn’t undertake.”
“Do you mean that?” asked Brooks.
“Of course I mean it. By the way, while I am here I would like to do
something for this town of yours. What do you need just now?”
The lawyer laughed at this.
“You talk like a millionaire.”
“Well,” responded the sailor, “I am not a millionaire, but I’ve got
enough to live on and a little over, too, and if I can make somebody
else feel happy I’m going to do it.”
“You asked me just now,” said the lawyer musingly, “what you could
do for the town.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Well,” responded the other, “a little fountain in the middle of the
main street wouldn’t be a bad thing. It would be the means of
slaking the thirst of both man and beast. We had one there some
years ago, and it was mighty useful; but it’s worn out now, and we
have no means of replacing it.”
“What will it cost?” asked the sailor.
“Not more than two thousand dollars,” responded Mr. Coke; “that
would finish the whole thing in first-class style.”
“It’s a go!” shouted the sailor, jumping up; “get the thing up in good
shape, and get it up as quickly as possible.”
Then and there specifications were drawn up, advertisements given
out and the draft of a communication made to city councils. Within
thirty days the whole thing had been completed and was ready for
dedication. On the morning fixed for the celebration it slowly dawned
on Herbert’s mind that the sailor and the lawyer had a fixed purpose
in all that they had done, and this purpose was only now beginning
to unfold itself. He got his first inkling of this when he noticed the
little silver plate on the side of the fountain, saying that it been
erected by Captain Thomas Janson to the memory of his lifelong
friend, David Harkins.
Mrs. Harkins wept a great deal when she saw this plate, which was a
very good thing for her, because it relieved her pent up feelings and
enabled her to recall memories of the dead without doing her any
serious injury. Herbert, on the other hand, was flushed with
conscious pride. A committee of the city councils had the affair in
charge, and they made Mrs. Harkins, Herbert and Captain Janson
the guests of honor. The Mayor of the city made the speech
accepting the fountain, and then Captain Janson, as the closest
friend of David Harkins, was called on for a few remarks.
The speech that he made that day was one of the most remarkable
that had ever been delivered in the town. It told the story of the life
of David Harkins, and how he had once befriended the speaker
during what he firmly believed was the crisis of his life. He then
related in great detail how he had come to Cleverly late that night
and forced his old friend to accept the ten $100 bills. Thus, without
making any direct reference to the ancient rumors that had
flourished in the town, the stain attached to the memory of David
Harkins was removed in the most effective manner possible. John
Black and his daughter were present at the ceremonies, and at the
conclusion of the set speeches Mr. Black arose and paid a fervent
tribute to the integrity of David Harkins. Altogether everything was
done in the most complete manner, and the affair was a great
success and a red letter day in the history of Cleverly.
The story of the event was told in a full page report in the current
issue of the Banner. To the delight of Mr. Brooks, Herbert had
volunteered to write the report, and it proved to be one of the best
pieces of reporting that had ever been done for the local paper.
Captain Janson was the hero of the occasion. He remained in
Cleverly for about a week, and he spent his money so lavishly and
with such utter unconcern that he came to be looked upon as a
modern Monte Cristo.
During his stay he formed quite an intimacy with Noah Brooks, and it
was not very long before the whole-hearted sailor and the eccentric
editor were almost indispensable to each other. Sitting in the Banner
office one day Janson said:
“See here, Brooks, Cleverly looks to me like a good port in a storm.
It strikes me that it would be a pretty good place for an old worn out
hulk like Captain Janson. I’ve got a great notion to gather my stores
and anchor here for the rest of my life.”
Brooks thought so, too, and said he felt satisfied that the Captain
would never have cause to regret making the change in his dwelling
place. The sight of the two old men sitting on the porch exchanging
stories of the varied experiences they had undergone during their
stormy lives was a picture not to be forgotten very quickly. At least
Herbert Harkins thought so, and when he finally took the train for
his return to New York the pretty little scene remained engraved
upon his memory.
 CHAPTER XXI
IN WHICH A TELEPHONE CALL PRODUCES SOME
UNEXPECTED RESULTS

Herbert returned to New York from Cleverly in the gayest of spirits.

He was happier than he had been for years, and was filled with a
desire to communicate this light-hearted feeling to everyone that he
met. The fact that the long standing cloud had been removed from
the memory of his father made him forget his own troubles for the
time at least. A week before everything had appeared dark and
gloomy; but now the dawn had arrived and the earth assumed a
cheerful appearance. With the light-heartedness of youth, he looked
forward to a future of prosperity and uninterrupted happiness.
The time was within a month of Christmas, and before leaving
Cleverly he had exacted a promise from his mother that she would
come to New York on the eve of the festival and stay with him over
the holidays. He was already mentally planning out the treat that
would be given her on her arrival in the metropolis. It was in this
mood that he hurried to his apartments. He found Tomlin at home,
and opening and closing the door boisterously, shouted:
“Hello Tomlin, old fellow! I want you to jump up and shake hands
with a very happy man.”
Tomlin did jump up and did shake hands with his friend; but he said
nothing, gazing on the other with an expectant air. Receiving no
response to his silent inquiry, he asked:
“Have you fallen heir to a fortune?”
“No,” said Herbert, “something better than that.”
“Have you obtained a permanent position on one of the big papers?”
“No,” replied Herbert, and this time a little sadly, “not that.”
“Well, what in the world is it?” asked the other.
“Simply this,” replied Herbert, speaking hurriedly and with some
feeling; “after a number of anxious years I have succeeded in
clearing the memory of my father from a stain that has rested upon
it ever since his death.”
Very rapidly he sketched the events that had followed one another
from the time he had read the little personal in the Herald until the
unveiling of the memorial fountain in Cleverly.
Tomlin whistled.
“This is news indeed, and I never knew a thing about it. Why didn’t
you tell me?”
“I owe you an apology for that,” said Herbert contritely, “but I was a
victim of circumstances. After my interview with the old sea captain I
missed you, and found it necessary to go to Cleverly immediately.
Besides that I had a strong desire to complete the whole business so
that I might give you the story in full when we met.”
“Don’t mention it,” said the other heartily, his eyes glistening with
the pleasure he felt. “Why the thing has the flavor of a romance
from real life. Say, it would make a bully story for the Argus.”
Herbert raised his hand in protest.
“Don’t think of such a thing, Tomlin!” he exclaimed. “I am not
desirous of any publicity just at this time. I wouldn’t have Blakeley
even hear my name or to see it, at least not for some time to come.
I know that he feels very bitterly towards me, and I realize that he
has a real justification for that feeling. Some day I may be able to
win back his good opinion.”
“I hope so,” fervently ejaculated Tomlin; then as if the thought had
just struck him: “Why not make the attempt now?”
“It is not possible now,” said Herbert in a positive tone, which
conveyed a distinct desire to close the subject.
“By the way,” said Tomlin, “you will have to get down to work.
You’ve been wasting a lot of your time when you should have been
toiling for your bread and butter. I’ve got an order here for three
specials, and you will have to turn them out before the end of the
week.”
“I’m your man,” responded Herbert enthusiastically. Then looking at
his friend fondly, he added:
“Say, Tomlin, how can I ever repay you for your goodness to me?”
“By never speaking about it,” was the crisp reply.
Herbert started in immediately and began working on the specials
that had been ordered for the following week. He had to go out for
several days and nights in succession in order to obtain the material,
but once that was in hand he worked quickly and industriously. One
of the articles was a graphic description of the entrance to the
Brooklyn bridge at the rush hour in the evening. The subject was not
new by any means; but Herbert handled it with such cleverness and
originality that it made a very readable page in the Sunday issue of
one of the enterprising newspapers. Another of the specials was a
description of Chinatown at night, couched in such phraseology as to
make the reader believe that the scenes so graphically described
were taking place in the heart of one of the cities of old China
instead of actually being enacted in the midst of the American
metropolis. The third article gave the impressions of a man who
went to the very top of one of the highest buildings on Manhattan
Island and viewed the surrounding country.
The Argus office was only a few blocks from the lodgings of the two
young men. While Herbert was hard at work one night, Tomlin
rushed in unexpectedly, and said in agitated tones:
“I’ve got a sensational tip that I want you to run out for me. I am
tied up on another story now, and there is no one in the office. It
may be nothing, or it may be a good thing; but if you are willing to
tackle it I will guarantee that you will not lose anything by the
operation.”
“Don’t talk about losses,” said Herbert impatiently; “tell me what you
want.”
“Well,” said the other; “I was around at the precinct police station a
little while ago. The telephone bell rang while I was in the room. The
house sergeant was sound asleep, snoring like a log, so I took the
liberty of responding to the call. When I got my ear to the receiver a
very feminine voice said:
“‘Is this the police station?’
“‘Yes ma’am,’ I replied, wondering what was coming next.
“‘Well,’ said the sweet voice again, ‘a burglar has broken into our
house and I have him locked in the sitting room, and I will be very
much obliged indeed if you will send an officer here at once to take
the man into custody.’
“Just in the most matter of fact manner imaginable,” cried Tomlin.
“Could anything be more picturesque or interesting? Here is a
woman who is not afraid of a burglar. She calmly telephones for the
police to come and arrest him. I think that’s a peach of a story, and
if you have any red blood in your veins you will grab your hat and
coat and start off on the story before I am able to say ten more
words.”
This was precisely what Herbert did. In less than a minute’s time he
was at the door, and turning to Tomlin, said:
“Where’s the house? What was the number?”
“The cabby knows all about it,” said Tomlin, pointing to a stout man
who was sitting on the high seat of a cab in front of the door.
“What’s that?” asked Herbert.
“That’s the cabby,” replied Tomlin; “you don’t suppose I would come
here without furnishing you with all the conveniences necessary to
do the job. There’s a policeman in plain clothes on the inside of the
cab. All you have to do is to go with him, help him to make the
arrest, and then write up the story. I’ll call here again in an hour and
get the copy. If it proves to be a beat, I’ll give it to Blakeley in the
morning and quietly let him know that you have sent it in as a partial
act of retribution for the scurvy manner in which you treated him on
that other big scoop.”
“Tomlin, I wish you would stop talking about that,” said Herbert
impatiently; “but I’ll do the best I can with this story.” And with a
farewell shout he jumped into the cab, pulled the door to with a
slam and was whirled in the direction of upper New York. The cab
driver had evidently been given an extra fee for speed, because he
lashed his horse unmercifully, and the vehicle went whirling up
Broadway at a gait which terrified chance pedestrians and aroused
the ire of sleepy policemen. Once the hub of the wheel struck
another team that was coming down-town, and for several seconds
Herbert felt that their team was about to be wrecked; but by some
lucky chance the wheels became extricated and the cab once more
resumed its upward and onward journey. Finally, after many minutes
had passed, it turned off the main highway into a side street.
Herbert noticed by glancing at a lamp on the side of the
thoroughfare that they had turned into West 69th street. Presently
the cab stopped, and when Herbert and the officer had alighted, the
cabby, pointing towards a brownstone house with the tip of his whip,
said:
“That’s your house, boys.”
Herbert looked up at the dwelling, and something familiar about it
arrested his attention. He looked again to make sure, but there
could be no doubt about it.
It was the home of John Black. Herbert stood on the sidewalk for
some seconds, half dazed at this entirely unexpected discovery. He
wondered curiously what fatality it was that had brought him to this
house on such a strange errand at such an hour of the night; but
presently he aroused himself. Speculation was in vain; action was
necessary. After a few whispered instructions to the officer, he
walked up the high steps and rang the bell.
 CHAPTER XXII
PROVING THAT BAD PERSONS, LIKE BAD PENNIES, ARE
CONSTANTLY REAPPEARING

After ringing the bell of the house, Herbert waited for a long time,
but there was no response. Instantly his whole being was thrown
into a fever of impatience and unrest. He imagined all sorts of
terrible things. His mind was filled with terror. What if he had arrived
on the scene too late? What if some crime had been committed in
the dead of the night? Curiously enough, during that mental review
he never thought of John Black or his wife. The one person
constantly in his mind was Mary Black.
He rang the bell a second time. This time it was done fiercely,
angrily. He listened eagerly, but received no immediate response,
and then consulted with the policeman upon the advisability of going
to the rear of the house and breaking in. While they were talking a
sound was heard at the parlor window, and the next moment it was
thrown open. A head was pushed cautiously out of the window.
Herbert recognized it at a glance. It was Mary Black. He was on the
top step now, and leaning over, said quietly so as not to alarm the
girl:
“Mary.”
She started at the sound of a familiar voice, and peering out into the
gloom, exclaimed in genuine surprise:
“Herbert Harkins!”
“Yes, Mary,” he answered; “what is the difficulty?”
“Oh, I’m terribly frightened,” she cried, “someone has broken into
the house. I don’t know who it is, except that it is a man. I was
reading in my room when I heard a grating sound at the kitchen
door. Presently it was opened, and footsteps could be heard going
into the dining room. Then all was silent for awhile. I came down the
front stairway about half way, and leaning over the banister, looked
in the dining room. The fellow’s back was to me. He was seated at
the table calmly eating some cold meat that he had taken out of the
refrigerator. He had a couple of bottles of papa’s wine, also, and was
drinking that with great relish. Scarcely knowing what to do, I crept
back to my room. Both papa and mamma had gone out for the
evening, and I had no idea when they would return home. While I
was in my room, in an agony of fear, I heard the fellow come
upstairs. He went back into the library, and securing a large
tablecloth, filled it with the silverware and other valuable things that
he had carried from the dining room. Then he sank back into a large
arm chair and calmly went to sleep. It was then that I conceived the
idea of sounding the alarm. I pulled the doors of the library to and
locking them securely, came down to the hall, where we have a
telephone, and notified the police.”
“Good!” exclaimed Herbert at the conclusion of this narrative, “you
have acted very discreetly. Is the fellow still asleep?”
“No,” she replied; “he evidently awakened a few minutes ago,
because I hear him in the room. He has discovered the fact that he
is a prisoner, and I am sure will either jump through one of the back
windows or break open the door.”
Herbert immediately sent the policeman to the rear of the house,
with instructions to arrest anybody who might attempt to escape
from that part of the property. Another patrolman fortunately
passing by at this time, volunteered to guard the front of the house,
while Herbert went in to grapple with the intruder.
Mary was quite solicitous for Herbert’s safety, as was only natural.
“Please be careful,” she said; “he may be a dangerous character.
Don’t you think you had better send one of the officers up?”
“No,” said Herbert, “I think I’ll tackle this job myself.”
He felt some apprehension, but being a man, did not propose to
display it before a girl for whom he had so much regard as Mary
Black.
He crept up the stairs silently, armed with a pistol which Tomlin had
thoughtfully provided. He heard a great knocking on the doors of the
library, and going there immediately, turned the key and threw them
open. The man within, surprised at this bold movement, retreated to
the rear of the room. There was no light, but Herbert could see his
figure dimly moving in the gloom.
“Surrender or you will be shot!” he shouted sternly.
For answer the burglar drew a pistol from his pocket, and aiming at
Herbert, pulled the trigger. There was a flash of light and then all
was silence. Herbert felt a tickling sensation like a pin prick on the
back of his right hand. He lifted it, and noticed that the bullet had
just grazed the top of his hand, which was already bleeding.
Smarting with anger, he raised his own pistol and fired. It went far of
the mark, but it produced results, for a heavy bass voice coming out
of the darkness shouted:
“Stop shooting, and I’ll surrender.”
Herbert put his pistol away, and striking a match, lit the gas. The
burglar was crouching in a corner of the room back of a book-case.
His clothing seemed to be in tatters. Herbert strode over to where
he was and grabbing him by the arm, pulled him out. The man
turned round with a whine:
“You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” he said.
Something in the voice attracted Herbert at once. He scrutinized the
bleared face and recognized in it the countenance of Harry Adler.
The discovery aroused his indignation.
“You scoundrel!” he shouted, raising his voice in his anger. “What do
you mean by coming here and trying to rob these people. Aren’t you
satisfied with the injury you have already done to this family? You
have taken their boy away from them, and now to cap the climax,
you are low enough and despicable enough to come and try to rob
them of their property.”
“What family?” asked Adler, looking up at the young man with a
sullen gaze.
“What family?” ejaculated Herbert, “do you mean to say that you did
not know that this was John Black’s house?”
“No,” was the reply with an ugly leer. “I didn’t know it was John
Black’s house. I was hard up; I had to get something; I needed
money. This looked like an easy thing. How could I tell whose crib I
was trying to crack?”
“Well,” said Herbert bitterly, “you put your head in the noose this
time all right You’ve been caught red-handed, and you’ll go to jail
without doubt.”
“How do you know this?” asked Adler, with sudden defiance.
“Because the house is guarded back and front,” was the reply;
“because I have caught you in the act and you are my prisoner now,
and I don’t propose to permit you to escape.”
The burglar looked at his antagonist in a blank sort of way for a
moment, then a glitter of intelligence and cunning suddenly
illumined the fishy eyes and the sodden face.
“If you permit the police to take me up to-night you’ll regret it to the
very end of your life.”
Something in the man’s manner and in the tone of his voice arrested
Herbert’s attention. Some instinctive feeling seemed to tell him that
these words were not mere bravado. He turned to the culprit:
“Why? Why do you say this?”
“Because,” exclaimed Adler, in a shrill voice, “if you have me arrested
I’ll squeal. I’ll tell the truth and the whole truth about young Arthur
Black. He came to New York with me as my partner. He was
concerned in that dirty get-rich-quick business. I’ll turn State’s
evidence, and if I go to jail he’ll go with me, and you can bet your
sweet life that the Black family will be mighty unhappy before I get
through with them.”
Herbert was the picture of distress. The man watched him with a
leer. With all his defects, Adler possessed acute intelligence and he
realized that Herbert was more deeply interested in Mary Black than
he was willing to acknowledge. Knowing this, he felt that he had
struck his captor in his weakest spot. It did not take Herbert long to
decide. Turning to the unfortunate man, he said:
“Suppose you are released, what then?”
“Then mum’s the word,” replied the burglar, “I’ll not squeal; I’ll go
about my business and let you and your friends go about yours.”
“Wait a minute,” was Herbert’s comment. Going to the foot of the
stairs, he called for Mary Black. She came up very much agitated.
She peeped in at the burglar, who still lay in a heap on the floor, and
shuddered at the sight. Herbert whispered to her.
“Mary, this man deserves to be arrested and imprisoned; but I have
a great notion to let him go. He is an old Cleverly boy. It’s Harry
Adler. He never did amount to much, but it might be an act of
charity to permit him to go in peace this time.”
Her eyes brightened and the color returned to her face. In her
enthusiasm she took Herbert by both hands, exclaiming:
“I agree with you thoroughly, and I think you’re simply great to act
so generously with a man who is at your mercy.”
While this conversation was going on the policemen who had been
patiently waiting in the front and rear of the house, tiring of their
long watch, came inside and walked up the stairway. As they joined
the group, Herbert turned to the man who had accompanied him,
and said:
“Gentlemen, this is all a deplorable error. This gentleman is a distant
relative of the family. In the confusion he was taken for an intruder.
The family is very much mortified, and hopes that nothing more will
be said about the matter.”
The policemen smiled at this and bowing their heads in
acquiescence left the house, chuckling in audible tones. Such scenes
were not unfamiliar to the members of the metropolitan police force.
As soon as they had gotten out of sight, Herbert turned to Adler, and
in a tone freighted with anger and contempt, exclaimed:
“Go!”
The man looked up out of the corner of his eye as if to assure
himself that there was no treachery intended, and then slunk
downstairs and out into the street.
As he withdrew Mary turned to Herbert and then suddenly gave a
terrible scream.
“Why, what’s the matter, Mary?” he cried anxiously, rushing over to
her.
“Oh that, that!” she exclaimed, pointing to his right hand, which was
now almost covered with blood; “you have been shot. You are
wounded.”
Herbert, who had forgotten his slight injury, looked down at his
discolored hand and gave a laugh.
“Oh, that’s nothing,” he cried; “if you will get me a little hot water
and a bandage, I think we can straighten that out in short order.”
She proceeded to do this, bustling about with much intelligence and
vivacity. The wound was dressed and she was in the act of binding it
up when Mr. and Mrs. Black returned. They were amazed to see
Herbert Harkins there, and still more thunderstruck when they
learned the story of the attempted robbery. John Black was grateful,
but he shook his head as he said to Herbert:
“You should not have released the man. He is a menace to society,
and may attempt the same crime against other citizens.”
Mary spoke up at this point, saying:
“I disagree with you, father. Herbert was right. He might have been
mistaken, but he was merciful and that after all means much in this
unfeeling world.”
Herbert was delighted at such praise, and bidding her good-night
stooped down and kissed her hand in the chivalrous manner of a
gentleman of the old school.
The act appeared to please the girl, for her face crimsoned and
stooping down, she picked up his wounded hand and gave it a kiss.
“You deserve it,” she said impulsively, “because you have acted the
part of a hero.”
 CHAPTER XXIII
IN WHICH A BAD MAN REACHES THE END OF HIS ROPE

Herbert walked home from the Black residence that night. He did not
care to ride. He wanted to have the opportunity to think over the
exciting incidents of the last hour, and felt that he could not do so
with any satisfaction to himself unless he was alone. The clocks were
striking one o’clock in the morning when he finally reached his
lodgings. The gas was burning in the little sitting room, and Tomlin
was there in an attitude of expectancy.
“Well?” he said, with a questioning look. “What was the result of
your adventure?”
Herbert’s jaw fell. It suddenly dawned upon him that he was once
more placed in the attitude of a delinquent. He had unconsciously
forgotten all about Tomlin and the fact that he was supposed to be
out on an assignment. The thought mortified him very much. He
looked into Tomlin’s clear eyes, and what he saw there prompted
him to be candid. There was no use in attempting to beat about the
bush; he would tell the truth and tell it as simply as possible; so he
sat down and related all that had occurred from the time he left
Tomlin early in the evening until the present moment. Only upon one
phase of the story did he attempt any disguise, and that was when
he related the threat which had been hurled at him by the burglar.
He told his friend that a person who was very dear to Mary Black
was in Adler’s power, and that the robber had threatened to expose
this person and involve him in disgrace if he was not given an
immediate release. When Herbert had concluded his narrative,
Tomlin leaned back in his chair and gave vent to a hearty laugh.
Herbert could not understand the cause of his mirth, and said so.
Tomlin laughed again, and then said:
“I don’t suppose you see the humorous side of this thing; but it
appeals to me very strongly. See here, Harkins, this thing is
becoming marked with you. It begins to look as if you had gotten
into the habit of falling down on all of your assignments.”
“I do feel a bit silly about this,” began Herbert, “but you see the
position I was placed in. You see it was this way—”
“No explanations are necessary,” interrupted Tomlin in his familiar,
hearty tones, “explanations are not of much use anyhow. Your
friends don’t expect them, and your enemies wouldn’t believe them.
I’m frank to say, however, that you did just what any man with red
blood in his veins would have done under the circumstances. In fact
I would have acted just as you did.”
“Then you don’t feel badly over it? You don’t blame me—”
“Not at all,” interrupted his friend once more; “I only ask you to
promise me that you are through with this chivalrous business, and
that if you intend to stay in the newspaper profession, you will quit it
right here and now, and that hereafter when you are sent out on an
assignment you will cover it and write it like a sensible man. Do you
promise, Herbert?”
“I promise,” said the other meekly.
Thus ended the episode of the attempted robbery. Two days later
Herbert started out early in the morning in order to make a tour of
the hospitals for the purpose of finding some material for special
articles. The first institution he visited was the Samaritan Hospital,
with whose superintendent he was on terms of intimacy.
“Got anything to-day?” he said to that official.
“Not much,” was the yawning reply, “at least not much out of the
ordinary. I don’t think we’ve anything here that you would care for.”
“Any deaths to-day?”
“No; but we have a queer sort of fellow here who was shot last night
while trying to break into a house up-town.”
“Is that so?” remarked Herbert carelessly. “I don’t suppose there’s
anything unusual in the case?”
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