When John Hartley left the presence of his sister-in-law, he muttered maledictions upon her.
"I'll have the child yet, if only to spite her," he muttered, between his teeth. "I won't allow a jade to stand between me and my own flesh and blood. I must think of some plan to circumvent her."
This was not easy. He had absolutely no clew, and little money to assist him in his quest. But Fortune, which does not always favor the brave, but often helps the undeserving, came unexpectedly to his help.
At an American banker's he ran across an old acquaintance—one who had belonged to the same club as himself in years past.
"What are you doing here, Hartley?" he asked.
"Not much. Luck is against me."
"Sorry to hear it. By the way, I was reminded of you not long since."
"How is that?"
"I saw your child in Union Square, in New York."
"Are you sure of it?" asked Hartley, eagerly. "Are you sure it was my child?"