1S!'6. 



THE AMERICAN BEE-KEEPER. 



m^ 



"I huvoirt yot the pleasure of knowing 

 who you arc. What the — will you kind- 

 ly tell mo what you are talking about?" 

 "Why, my dear sir, I am talking 

 about this story of yours called 'The 

 Mystery of Rovvnor's Mill. ' I was just 

 saying that you have made me — other- 

 wise Jasper Gore" — 



"Gore is one of my characters. I un- 

 derstand your name is Rogers!" 



The mau leaned back and roared with 

 laughter. I eauk into my chair in a 

 ptate of exasperation. 



"Excuse my laughing," he said, "but 

 when you put on that innocent air it is 

 irresistibly funny. What does it matter 

 which name I use, Gore or Rogers — are 

 they not one and the same? What was 

 easier? You took my real name, Rogers, 

 rejected the last two letters, transposed 

 the others, and then you had it — Gore!" 



I was now quite out of temper. 



"I don't know what your object is," 

 I said, "iu coming here and talking this 

 nonsense. The story is pure fiction — a 

 simple creation of my own brain — from 

 beginning to end. So far as I know, the 

 characters never lived, the incidents 

 never happened, the mill described nev- 

 er had any existence — except iu my own 

 imagination. " 



My visitor watched me as I spoke, 

 and a grin slowly broadened on his face, 

 until he again burst into loud laughter. 



"I should never have believed it!" 

 he said. 



"Believed what?" 



"You novelists, it would appear, are 

 so steeped iu fiction that you lose all re- 

 gard for truth. " 



"What do you mean, sir?" I cried in- 

 dignantly. 



"I* it necessary to explain? Here, in 



this magazine, I have a story every es- 

 sential detail of which is actual truth, 

 and you coolly tell me that it was all 

 evolved out of your own brain!" 



"Certainly. So it was. " 



"Now, what is the use of talking 

 like that to me — to me? I am Rogers — 

 Rogers is Gore. I (call me by which 

 name you like) am the man whose acts 

 are described iu this story." 



"Do you mean to sit there and tell 

 me that you actually committed a crime 

 identical with that I have described?" 



"Precisely. I say the story is true in 

 every essential detail. Every action of 



the plot, every motive of the characters, 

 all the descriptions of places, and even 

 portions of llie dialogue are absolutely 

 true. I say a.^ain I am Jasper Gore!" 



Imagine my feelings! Never before 

 iu the history of fiction writing had so 

 remarkable a thing happened. Some oc- 

 cult power had clearly been at work on 

 my brain azjd directed me to write a 

 story founded "on fact in a degree that 

 was simply marvelous. The situation 

 was so extraordinary that it staggered 

 me. I was here fac» to face with the 

 murderous ruffian of my own creation. 



What was to be done? I glanced at 

 the bell at his elbow. 



"Never mind the bell," hesaid. "We 

 shall not want to use that. Listen to 

 me!" 



He brought his chair toward me until 

 our knees were nearly touching. With 

 his hands on his thighs and his body 

 bent forward he fixed his penetrating 

 eyes on mine. 



"I have told you that I am Jasper 

 Gore. But that is only one of the names 

 under which authors have used me in 

 relating my exploits. You are not the 

 only writer who has employed my deeds 

 in fiction. You have read Blaudford's 

 novel, 'The Red Witness?' Well, I am 

 Paul Varnham, the man who poisoned 

 his brother and threw the body into the 

 limekiln. You have seen the story iu 

 the last number of The Masterpiece 

 Magazine called 'The Case of Roland 

 Wier?' I am Roland, the man who stole 

 the bonds and stabbed to the heart the 

 only witness to the deed. Why, the 

 stains of the crime are still on my 

 hands. " 



I shuddered visibly, and cold sweat 

 was on my forehead. 



"Metaphorically speaking, " he added 

 with a smile, "I suppose you have 

 read"— 



"Stop!" I cried. "What is it you 

 want of me? Why do you come to tell 

 me all this?" 



"I came to make a proposal. I am a 

 man of many deeds — crimes, yon would 

 call them. The world is getting too hot 

 for me. I am iu danger from the sleuth 

 hounds of the law. Shelter me; hide 

 me, and I will give you material for 

 some of the most thrilling stories that 

 ever were written. I can keep you goiug 

 for the rest of your life — with facts, sir, 

 facts ! 



