CHAPTER IX.

THE PICTURE ON THE POSTER.

“My dear Miss Marlowe, I would certainly tell the Chief of Police every word that you have just told me! Why the thing is infamous! I can hardly believe it!”

“Yet, it is true, every word, and I am glad I have told you, Mr. Ray! Some way you have given me courage by your unexpected sympathy. Yet it is strange that I should have made such a confidant of a stranger.”

“You can trust me absolutely, my dear young lady! I would scorn to deceive any man in the world, much less a young girl who needs my friendship and protection.”

Marion was walking side by side with the young man whom she had met and who had insisted upon escorting her all the way to Police Headquarters. She could not explain how she came to tell him her story. It must have been her unaccountable confidence in the handsome young stranger. When she glanced at him shyly she read only honor and chivalry in his face, and every word that he uttered served to convince her of his refinement. It was plainly to be seen that he was a thorough gentleman, and if fine clothing counted for anything he was certainly wealthy.

“And you think no harm would come to Miss Gray by my story?” she asked eagerly. “Poor girl, I am sure that she must have been deeply wronged, and not by one word would I ever injure her!”

“I am sorry for her, too,” said the young man, seriously. “Her case is a sad one, I am sure. There are many such cases, the more’s the pity. But you must sacrifice her in order to save your sister. You will have to tell the whole story; there is no way out of it.”

“I will if I must,” said the fair girl, sighing; “for first of all I must rescue my poor sister from the clutches of that scoundrel—but oh, Mr. Ray, do look at that picture!”

Marion had just caught sight of a flaming “poster” on the side of a building directly in front of them. She stopped as if spellbound and gazed at it intently. Her companion stared at it also, but could not quite understand her emotion.

“Carlos Dabroski, Professor of Hypnotism,” glared in large type from the poster directly over a full-sized lithograph of a man in evening dress, apparently addressing an audience.

“What is it, Miss Marlowe?” asked the young man quickly.

Marion gasped for breath as she tried to answer.

“Oh, Mr. Ray, that is the picture of Mr. Lawson!”

“What! the fellow that abducted your sister?” cried her companion in dismay.

The beautiful lips quivered pitifully over the awful revelation.

“I am almost sure it is the same,” she murmured as she stared hard at the picture. “He is changed in some way, I can’t tell exactly how. Oh, I see it all now! The black-hearted monster! He hypnotized her, my poor, innocent sister!”

“He is to give an exhibition of his power to-night,” said Mr. Ray, who was reading the big bill. “The rascal will hypnotize some ‘subjects’ at Poole’s Theatre this evening.”

Marion shut her white teeth with a defiant snap.

“Well, he shall have me for an audience, Mr. Ray,” she exclaimed, sharply. “Oh, to think of my sister being in the clutches of that monster!”

“Don’t cry, Miss Marlowe! You may be mistaken,” said Mr. Ray, quickly.

It hurt him as much to see her grief as though she had been his own loved sister.

“Oh, I’m not going to cry,” whispered Marion, with the tears almost on her lashes, “but I am going to do some plotting to trap that fiend; and, oh, Mr. Ray, I do hope that you will help me!”

She turned toward him appealingly and held out her hand. There was an expression on her face that made it radiantly beautiful. Archie Ray glanced around quickly. There was nobody looking.

He would have given the whole world to have clasped her in his arms, but he knew instinctively that such an action would never be forgiven him.

As he controlled himself and raised her hand to his lips, he murmured softly:

“Till death, Miss Marlowe, you can count upon my friendship, for although I have not known you an hour yet——”

He stopped abruptly. An eloquent glance from his dark eyes left no doubt of his sentiments.

Marion’s hand trembled in his grasp and her face was suffused with blushes. For a moment she was so confused that she did not know how to answer.

“You are very, very kind,” she stammered at last, “and I appreciate your—your friendship, I assure you, Mr. Ray. It comes like a burst of sunshine in this awful hour of misery. If you will only help me to save my sister! Every hour, every moment must be fraught with agony to poor Dollie.”

“Let us hurry to Police Headquarters,” said the young man, quickly, “and you must tell them all—every word of your story.”

There was no hesitation in Marion’s manner now, although she inwardly prayed that her words would not bring Miss Gray into any trouble.

“She was a true friend to me,” she said, very sadly. “Poor girl! I pity her with my whole heart and soul. If I could only find a way to punish that old monster.”

“I fancy he’s a bad egg,” said the young fellow, thoughtfully. “There are lots of his sort in the city, unfortunately, and no woman is wholly safe who falls into their clutches.”

“Poor Miss Gray was afraid of him,” said Marion, sadly, “but she has defied him now. Oh. I do hope it is well with her.”

“She stole your money,” was the man’s curt answer.

“She took it,” corrected the young girl, quickly, “but she left me all her expensive clothes. There is a mystery in her actions that I cannot fathom.”

“Well, one at a time,” said her escort, smiling; “but here we are at headquarters, Miss Marlowe. Shall I go in with you?”

He looked at her anxiously as he asked the question.

A soft, rosy flush stole over her face.

“I think not,” she said slowly, as she gave him an arch smile. “I’ll have quite enough to do without explaining our acquaintance.”

“I guess you are right,” said Mr. Ray, as he returned the smile. “I will be on that corner when you come out, Miss Marlowe, for I don’t intend to leave you until you are safe with your uncle.”

“Oh, thank you!” cried the girl, gratefully. “You are more than kind.”

Then a deep flush mantled her charming features as she remembered the words of almost love which he had spoken.

In another minute she was on the steps of the building. Her heart was beating so hard that she could almost hear it, but she was determined not to falter in her search for Dollie.

“I’ll tell all!” she whispered, “everything that has happened except”—here she paused and blushed a little deeper—“except that I have met a young man whom I think is just the most charming gentleman that I have ever met.”