There certainly lived and lives Mr. Jason B. Grampus, a great speculator, whose home has its palatial aspects.

Ned Simpson was not of the weaker sort, and he was desperately in love with the daughter of "old man Grampus."

Mr. Grampus and Mrs. Grampus stood like mountains in his way.

Mr. Grampus and Mrs. Grampus stood like mountains in his way.

Old Grampus liked him, after a fashion.

He had visited the Grampus house, had dined there often, had met the old lady with the purring ways, had met, also, the radiant daughter, Sylvia, and had fallen in love with the latter, deeply and irrevocably.

Still, young Simpson and old Grampus met down town in a business way, and it is only putting it fairly concerning Simpson to say that he showed a forgiving spiritalmost an impudently forgiving spirit, one might say.

" He did cultivate Mr. Grampus, and did it so well that after a season the two would even lunch together.

There was a skeleton in the Grampus closet, but it was not scandalous, and was never mentioned.

Still, to old Mr. Grampus, the guilty one, the skeleton was real and terrible.

Mrs. Grampus, who was known to her husband's inner consciousness as Sophia, was a slender, blue-eyed woman, soft of voice and by day gentle of manner.

This lesson was brought forcibly to Jason B. Grampus one morning.

Mr. Grampus went to his business somewhat improved in physical condition, and by noon was almost himself again.

Jason B. Grampus could no more have helped being confidential that day to some one than he could help breathing.

He looked at Grampus half quizzically, but in a manner not to offend, and as if it were merely a jest over a matter already settled, said: "Would you give your daughter?" Grampus looked at him puzzled, and then, responding to the joke which seemed but one of hopelessness, he said: "

It slowly dawned upon his mind that Simpson had caught him in a trap; but the word of Jason B. Grampus had never yet been violated.

Since their latest conversation Jason B. Grampus had engaged in no further communication with Simpson.

The old gentleman listened amazed, and thought it all a farce; but then the word of Jason B. Grampus had gone out, and he must keep his word.

The same day Simpson called at the office of Mr. Grampus and handed him a key, the ring of which was big enough to hold at least two fingers.

Grampus was no exception to the rule.

It has already been told that only three hours were required to enable Mr. Grampus to recover from three hours' indulgence at the club.

The word of Jason B. Grampus had never been violated, and never could be.

Notes on the Killer or Grampus (Orca gladiator) One killed at Greenwich, 31 feet.

"Listen to me, darlint, and don't mind them stupid grampuses.

Several grampuses were seen at the anchorage, also many dugongs and turtles.