A MISUNDERSTANDING. 327 



them. Being called out of the city, I did not see him 

 again for a month or two, but at our next meeting he 

 told me that he would bring them the following day, 

 and if I was not there he would leave the parcel with 

 the officer on the beat. The following day came, but 

 Luke failed to appear. He was also absent on the 

 succeeding one, and as the regular officer was not on 

 duty, I was unable to make an inquiry until 

 the next afternoon. I then learned that the man I 

 knew as Luke Lightwood was dead and buried. 



During a misunderstanding, in a room up town, 

 he happened to be in the way of a bullet and was 

 killed instantly. An inquest, at which the officer was 

 present, followed by a funeral from an undertaker's 

 rooms, and Luke Lightwood dropped out of sight 

 without a ripple. I had read of the shooting in the 

 papers, but there was nothing in the name to connect 

 the victim with the man I knew. The officer ex- 

 plained it all with the remark, "Two names." Later 

 in the day I accompanied the officer on a visit to 

 Luke's rooms. Everything remained just as he left 

 it. On a table in the center of a little sitting room we 

 found a large envelope bearing my name. It con- 

 tained the stories he spoke about. The landlady, who 

 fell heir to Luke Lightwood's personal effects, 

 bade me take them, and they are presented here, not 

 only as unique productions with a sparkle and verve 

 all their own, but as a tribute to a man who, after 

 being a lawyer, jockey and gambler, was still a gen- 

 tleman with a fondness for books, Shelley and Byron 

 being his favorites, while he was also well read in Scott 

 and Burns, and told me that, in addition to reading 

 all of Dickens and Thackeray, he had met both of them 



