Harper can do something for you, I am sure." "Who the devil are you?" said Harper, bluntly. The stranger came nearer and, bending toward them, said in a whisper: "I call myself Jarette sometimes, but I don't mind telling you, for old friendship, that I am Dr. William Mancher." The revelation brought Harper to his feet. "Mancher!" he cried; and Helberson added: "It is true, by God!"

Even if the matter should be taking a serious turn, of which I am not at all afraid, Mancher has only to 'resurrect' himself and explain matters. With a genuine 'subject' from the dissecting-room, or one of your late patients, it might be different." Dr. Mancher, then, had been as good as his promise; he was the "corpse." Dr.

As for fear I dare say he thinks it some cutaneous disorder, or possibly a particular kind of religious heresy." "What does he look like?" Helberson was evidently becoming interested. "Like Mancher, here might be his twin brother." "I accept the challenge," said Helberson, promptly. "Awfully obliged to you for the compliment, I'm sure," drawled Mancher, who was growing sleepy.

Helberson was silent for a long time, as the carriage, at a snail's pace, crept along the same street it had traveled two or three times already. Presently he spoke: "Well, let us hope that Mancher, if he has had to rise from the dead, has been discreet about it. A mistake in that might make matters worse instead of better." "Yes," said Harper, "Jarette would kill him.

"Yes," said the stranger, smiling vaguely, "it is true enough, no doubt." He hesitated and seemed to be trying to recall something, then began humming a popular air. He had apparently forgotten their presence. "Look here, Mancher," said the elder of the two, "tell us just what occurred that night to Jarette, you know." "Oh, yes, about Jarette," said the other.

Let us have in all the assassin classes." "No, my dear Mancher; the juries will not let the public executioners acquire sufficient familiarity with death to be altogether unmoved by it." Young Harper, who had been helping himself to a fresh cigar at the sideboard, resumed his seat.

"Can't I get into this?" "Not against me," Helberson said. "I don't want your money." "All right," said Mancher; "I'll be the corpse." The others laughed. The outcome of this crazy conversation we have seen. In extinguishing his meagre allowance of candle Mr. Jarette's object was to preserve it against some unforeseen need.

Many maintain that there has been a sensible advance. A recent traveller describes them as "in mancher Hinsicht schon hypercultivirt." What might be called a third position is taken by one of the most prominent writers of the race, E.W. Blyden, the widely-known President of Liberia College.