The acme magazine . T Ik^H- HE study of Personals inour metropolitan dailieshas long been a hobby ofmine. It pleases me to recon-struct in fancy the variousdramas suggested by theirmeager wordings. Sometimes,indeed, I have by their meansbeen enabled to follow an in-trigue, or simple love affair,from its inception to an end—tragic or otherwise. Harmless in itself, this hobby,or passion—which you will—hasin one case, at least, been pro-ductive of good; and, in tellingthe story, disguised as it will beby fictitious names, I violate noconfidence, I invite no animus. It was some eight months agotha
The acme magazine . T Ik^H- HE study of Personals inour metropolitan dailieshas long been a hobby ofmine. It pleases me to recon-struct in fancy the variousdramas suggested by theirmeager wordings. Sometimes,indeed, I have by their meansbeen enabled to follow an in-trigue, or simple love affair,from its inception to an end—tragic or otherwise. Harmless in itself, this hobby,or passion—which you will—hasin one case, at least, been pro-ductive of good; and, in tellingthe story, disguised as it will beby fictitious names, I violate noconfidence, I invite no animus. It was some eight months agothat I developed an unusual in-terest in a series of advertise-ments emanating from suggested a mysterious dis-appearance. Wanted—Information as tothe whereabouts of John SilcoteBosanquet. Liberal reward. Ap- plv to V. G., in West St., New York. By thunder, I have it! I ex-ulted. John Bosanquet was thename of that young Englishmanwhom I had met more than once. jWavjcjtt^t. i8 AN ENEMY TO THE CZAR. in my casual wanderings, and who, whenI had last seen him, was, to all appear-ances, under arrest! My interest in the matter now grewvivid and personal. It took me less thanno time to synchronize approximately thedate of his arrest and that of the initialappearance of the Personals request-ing John Silcote Bosanquet to communi-cate with Vera. I was on the trackof a mystery, and would follow it up. An hour later, I was the recipient onhehalf of a beautiful girl of many tear-ful protestations of gratitude, which Ifelt to be entirely unearned. Her prom-ise that I should learn the sequel was tome much more than an equivalent forthe information that chance and a hob-by for reading Personals had enabledme to furnish her—a promise born offaith in the missing lover. For the girls sake, I devoutly hopedthat this faith might be justified, but thehope grew dim as the weeks evanescedwithout a prospect of that promise beingredeemed. Imagine, then, my surpris
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