unless accident should open up the mystery."

Jack, as our readers know who have read of his previous exploits, possessed a wonderful faculty of discernment and a very clear and penetrating astuteness. He was a born detective, and this natural gift in the direction of solving mysteries had led him to become one. As stated, he became very thoughtful—indeed, he said to the banker:

"Excuse me, sir, but let me think a few moments—yes, think while the incidents of your remarkable narrative are fresh in my mind."

"Certainly," said the banker; "and let me tell you I have hopes that you will succeed."

"You have?"

"Yes."

"What leads you to hope?"

"The gentleman who referred me to you said, 'If any man on earth can solve the mystery, Jack Alvarez is the man.'"

"He was very kind to speak so highly of me."

Jack fell into silence, and his active mind was performing wonders of detective investigation, and after a season he asked:

"How long was the man in your presence who confided this fortune to you."

"He was with me over an hour."

"Do you recall his appearance?"

"As well as though it were yesterday that he stood in my presence—yes, I possess a wonderful memory."

"How old are you, sir?"

"I am seventy."

"How old was the man who called on you?"

"He was a man between fifty and sixty, I should say."

"He had gray hair?"

"Yes, gray hair."

"The color of his eyes was black."

"No, sir."

"Oh, yes."

"No, sir, they were clear blue eyes; I remember that well. Why did you say they were black?"

Jack laughed and answered:

"I was only aiding you to remember—working on the plan of a detective I've read about, who always worked on the negative track, when trying to develop positive facts from witnesses."

"By ginger! I never should have recalled the color of his eyes if you had not positively stated that they were black."

"Then we have verified the theory?"

"Yes, indeed."

"He wore a high beaver hat, I am sure?"

"No, he did not; he wore a wide-brimmed slouch hat, what they used to call a Kossuth hat."

"Oh, I see; but he wore low shoes?"

"No, he didn't; he wore boots. I remember that; he sat opposite me and his pants were drawn up, exposing the leg of his boots."

"I see; and those boots were covered with black mud?"

"No, they were not," laughingly exclaimed Mr. Townsend. "They were covered with the red mud of New Jersey."

"Nonsense, sir."

"I'll swear to that," cried Mr. Townsend, and there came a look of wonderment to his face as he added:

"Young man, you'll win, you'll solve the mystery."

"I will?"

"Yes."'

"Why do you say so?"

"I can see that you will."

"You can?"

"Yes."

Jack laughed and said:

"What encourages you to think so?"

"You are going to work the right way. By ginger! you already have a clue; hang me, if you are not a mind reader! You have a clue—yes, you've established the fact that the man who deposited the fortune with me came from New Jersey."

"New Jersey must be red," said Jack, as a smile overspread his handsome face.

"Yes, and I'll swear that man came from Jersey."

"The man, you mean, with heavy plow boots on."

"Hang me! now I recall that is a fact."

"He wore very plain clothes?"

"Yes."

"He had a sort of twang in his pronunciation," said Jack, leaning forward in an eager manner.

"Young man," cried Mr. Townsend, "you have raised up the figure of forty years ago. You have described the man exactly—yes, I have been blind; you are inspired. Now I recall the man must have come to me off a farm."

Jack was delighted, and we will here state that subsequent incidents