Marion was walking side by side with the young man whom she had met and who had insisted upon escorting her all the way to Police Headquarters. She could not explain how she came to tell him her story. It must have been her unaccountable confidence in the handsome young stranger. When she glanced at him shyly she read only honor and chivalry in his face, and every word that he uttered served to convince her of his refinement. It was plainly to be seen that he was a thorough gentleman, and if fine clothing counted for anything he was certainly wealthy.
“And you think no harm would come to Miss Gray by my story?” she asked eagerly. “Poor girl, I am sure that she must have been deeply wronged, and not by one word would I ever injure her!”
“I am sorry for her, too,” said the young man, seriously. “Her case is a sad one, I am sure. There are many such cases, the more’s the pity. But you must sacrifice her in order to save your sister. You will have to tell the whole story; there is no way out of it.”
“I will if I must,” said the fair girl, sighing; “for first of all I must rescue my poor sister from the clutches of that scoundrel—but oh, Mr. Ray, do look at that picture!”
Marion had just caught sight of a flaming “poster” on the side of a building directly in front of them. She stopped as if spellbound and gazed at it intently. Her companion stared at it also, but could not quite understand her emotion.
“Carlos Dabroski, Professor of Hypnotism,” glared in large type from the poster directly over a full-sized lithograph of a man in evening dress, apparently addressing an audience.
“What is it, Miss Marlowe?” asked the young man quickly.
Marion gasped for breath as she tried to answer.
“Oh, Mr. Ray, that is the picture of Mr. Lawson!”
“What! the fellow that abducted your sister?” cried her companion in dismay.