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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 265 pages of information about Agatha Webb.

THE PURPLE ORCHID

     I—­A Cry on the Hill
    II—­One Night’s Work
   III—­The Empty Drawer
    IV—­The Full Drawer
     V—­A Spot on the Lawn
    VI—­“Breakfast is Served, Gentlemen!”
   VII—­“Marry Me”
  VIII—­“A Devil That Understands Men”
    IX—­A Grand Woman
     X—­Detective Knapp Arrives
    XI—­The Man with a Beard
   XII—­Wattles Comes
  XIII—­Wattles Goes
   XIV—­A Final Temptation
    XV—­The Zabels Visited
   XVI—­Local Talent at Work
  XVII—­The Slippers, the Flower, and What Sweetwater Made of Them
 XVIII—­Some Leading Questions
   XIX—­Poor Philemon
    XX—­A Surprise for Mr. Sutherland

BOOK II

THE MAN OF NO REPUTATION

   XXI—­Sweetwater Reasons
  XXII—­Sweetwater Acts
 XXIII—­A Sinister Pair
  XXIV—­In the Shadow of the Mast
   XXV—­In Extremity
  XXVI—­The Adventure of the Parcel
 XXVII—­The Adventure of the Scrap of Paper and the Three Words
XXVIII—­“Who Are You?” XXIX—­Home Again

BOOK III

Had Batsy lived!

   XXX—­What Followed the Striking of the Clock
  XXXI—­A Witness Lost
 XXXII—­Why Agatha Webb will Never be Forgotten in Sutherlandtown
XXXIII—­Father and Son
 XXXIV—­“Not When They Are Young Girls”
  XXXV—­Sweetwater Pays His Debt at Last to Mr. Sutherland

BOOK I

THE PURPLE ORCHID

I

A CRY ON THE HILL

The dance was over.  From the great house on the hill the guests had all departed and only the musicians remained.  As they filed out through the ample doorway, on their way home, the first faint streak of early dawn became visible in the east.  One of them, a lank, plain-featured young man of ungainly aspect but penetrating eye, called the attention of the others to it.

“Look!” said he; “there is the daylight!  This has been a gay night for Sutherlandtown.”

“Too gay,” muttered another, starting aside as the slight figure of a young man coming from the house behind them rushed hastily by.  “Why, who’s that?”

As they one and all had recognised the person thus alluded to, no one answered till he had dashed out of the gate and disappeared in the woods on the other side of the road.  Then they all spoke at once.

“It’s Mr. Frederick!”

“He seems in a desperate hurry.”

“He trod on my toes.”

“Did you hear the words he was muttering as he went by?”

As only the last question was calculated to rouse any interest, it alone received attention.

“No; what were they?  I heard him say something, but I failed to catch the words.”

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