Elsie and Amy Bertrand were two orphan sisters. They lived their life in great want and privation, and arriving at womanhood they parted. Amy went to a distant part of the country to earn her livelihood, while Elsie fortunate in her love affairs became engaged to a wealthy young count. Amy, in the meantime, met a young civil engineer, Alfred Mason. A baby was born to them. Alfred went to the Congo, hoping by embracing the opportunities offered in a new country to make his fortune, and forever remove Amy, their child, and himself from want. He had not been away long, when Amy received a message stating that Alfred had died from tropical fever, expressing with his last breath the anguish he suffered in leaving Amy and the baby unprovided for. Amy was prostrated with grief, and took to her bed. Feeling that death was near she sent for her sister Elsie, who immediately came to her. On her death bed Amy implored her sister to take care of the child, and keep locked in her heart the secret of her unfortunate love. Amy died and Elsie placed the child in an asylum. Returning to her home, she was married to the Count. The wedding was barely over when she read in a newspaper that the asylum had been destroyed by fire, and all the children but one had been claimed. It added that this child had been placed into the hands of a physician named Firth. Elsie sought Dr. Firth, only to learn that he had just given the infant to a man named Bunting. In the company of the doctor she searched for Bunting. The address and references he had given were false, and their efforts to unearth even one clue by which he might be traced were fruitless. After engaging a detective with but fain hopes of success, she returned to her home grief stricken. Welton, the detective, discovers that Bunting was the assumed name of a notorious child stealer and by tireless efforts, he finally runs down his man, just as the latter was about to embark on shipboard for a distant port, with number of children whom he had obtained by kidnapping and misrepresentation. The suspense was telling on Elsie, and her husband fearing that she was ill, decided to take her to Lugano, a resort where she could regain her health. As they were about to start she received a telegram from the detective announcing the recovery of the child. She replied instructing him to meet her with the infant at the Helvetion Hotel, near Lugano. The afternoon of Elsie’s and her husband’s arrival, while sitting in the hotel lobby, the Count became acquainted with an old guest of the hostelry. The elderly man noticing the number of the key to the room which the Count had been assigned, no. 17, appeared surprised. When questioned, the old man said that owing to a tragedy that had been enacted within the room, it was never used unless the hotel was entirely filled. The Count becoming interested urged the stranger to relate the tragedy of Room 17. “Forty years ago,” the old man said, “Countess of Chalant visited the hotel. While there she met and fell in love with a young nobleman also a guest. Count Chalant arrived unexpectedly one night and thinking to agreeably surprise his wife went directly to her room; it was empty; the sound of a kiss came from the room opposite room 17. The Count peered through the keyhole, saw his wife in the arms of the young nobleman. In a rage he battered down the door, rushed in upon the pair, and shot them both.” Count Charles was so absorbed in the tale he did not notice a man carrying a child enter the hotel, and signal the Countess, nor did he see his wife follow the stranger upstairs. When the story was finished he was surprised to find her gone. Arising in haste, he ran to her room, no. 17. It was empty. Peering from her window across the wide expanse there in wonderment, he heard the sound of kisses coming from the opposite room. Shaking in a jealous rage he grasped his revolver, bounded like a madman brandishing the weapon into the room, only to see his wife kissing a baby. He calmed down. Elsie explained about her sister and the child, then, introducing the detective, told of his work. The Count adopted the child, banished jealousy from his mind, and thus what might have been a second tragedy of room 17 was averted and turned to happiness.