Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 1006) (1896 11 03)
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— QV “~ ——— se as (i! tn a ol! i a TT im ia inl iG — Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Y , Post Office. Copyrighted 1896, by BEADLE AND ADAMS, No.1 1006. nO, 50 PUBLISHED WEEKLY BY BEADLE AND ADAMS. Price, a Year. No. 92 WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. 5 cents. November &, 186,” Vol. XXXTX, ai Hii ZZ “al Fae ini OO ——————— | nell = Ve We . a | —_= 4H : = 4 Hi | \ auc “allt a aii Ah] A k Ht one tl c a THE DODGE FROM New York to New Orleans, —_—— FRANK WAS QUICKLY HUSTLED FROM THE TRAIN, Es NRE BY CHARLES MORRIS.
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2 | Flipper Frank’s Flush : Tracking the Dodger from New York to New Orleans. BY CHARLES MORRIS, 4 CHAPTER I, A BOY'S BRAVE DEED, THE flames leaped like fiery serpents into the air, writhing and hissing. It seemed as if they Flipper Frank’s Flush. | having drawn their attention from the thrilling scenes that were taking place at half the win- dows of the burning building. Not sixty seconds had elapsed, but they seemed to the strained attention of the observers like almost as many minutes, when the form of the boy again appeared at the window, framed in a brilliant background of flames, His coat was blazing, but the stream of water which met him full in the face quickly extin- guished it, and again drenched him, The blaze which had taken hold of the ladder was also ex- tinguished. Ata wave of his hand the stream was turned would set the very sky on fire, so virulently did | away, and he sprung again upon the ladder, which they came glowed like a flery furnace seven times heated, It was a well-known New York hotel which was thus being converted into smoke and ashes, a tinder-box through which the flames ran riot, and whose inmates were in imminent danger of a horrible death. Some had already been dashed to death by leaping wildly from the windows, Others had fallen into the gulf of fire within. The flames had seized on stairs and elevator, and cut off flight by the usual channels of escape, The fire- men were busy with ladders, bearing whom they could from the windows; while the puffing en- gines were pouring hopeless streams of water into the blazing mass, Few of the guests had been able to save their valuables. Most of thém fled in their night- clothes, not even taking time to snatch up a gar- ment of defense against the sharp air of the win- try night, ; arious were their exclamations of horror and dismay. One gentleman, who had just been helped down the ladder from a third-story win- dow by a burly fireman, with only a night-shirt to protect him from the biting wind, broke from the hands of his saver with a bitter lamenta- tion. * All is gone! All!” he moaned, ‘‘ My pa- rs—my money—my all! Fifty thousand dol- ars py + up by those terrible flames! All gone! —all! And ruin is my lot.” , Hewrung his hands like one in the -deepest Lia sgh be bystanders listened with sudden interest. Fifty thousand dollars! Papers, probably of great value. A hundred eyes were turned up- ward to the window from which the man had serbia and against which the ladder still stood. No! flames were bursting from the upper por- tion of the sash. It was hopeless, Who would risk his life to save this man’s wealth? His own life had been preserved, and that must be enough, ** Come,” said the rough but kind-hearted fire- man who had rescued him, ‘‘ Don’t mind that, You ought to be glad you're alive. Come out of this, before you freeze into an icicle.” He led the’ man away—still wringing his hands, and bitterly bemoaning his losses. ‘*Poor devil,” said one of the firemen, ‘it is hard, Takes no small scratching to ace to- ger sucha pile, Hang me, if I wouldn’t go or it, but—” He looked upward and shook his head. “Shoot me if I ain’t going for it!” cried a youthful voice beside him, and a boy, not yet grown to the size of manhood, sprung from the crowd and onto the ladder, up which be went with the agility of a monkey. The daring act was witnessed by hundreds of people, all of whose eyes were fixed intently on he lad. The cool heads roe. aye called to him to return, but others excitedly cheered him on. The young acrobat seemed as if he had been born to the ladder. Heedlessof the cries below him, he ran up it like a cat, and almost before two breaths could be drawn, was at the window at which the heat was so great that the top of the ladder was already beginning to blaze, He paused a moment at the cavernous open- ing, out of which the light shone blindingly. [t seemed to those below that he was shrinking from a hopeless task. ** Back! back!” they cried. ‘*Come down! It is death to venture! The daring boy’s only reply was to tear off his coat, wrap it round his head, and dash with a wild leap into the room—at the same moment that a stream of water, directed by the hand of a wide-awake hoseman, struck him and drenched him from head to foot. {n situations like this seconds become minutes, minutes become hours. The eyes of hundreds of spectators were fixed on that window, in eager expectation, the daring feat of the boy | they shoot upward, while the burning massfrom | | and one hand could carry him.—The other hand | | | | down which he ran as nimbly as two feet | seemed engaged in grasping some object, A wild shout of congratulation arose as he reached the ground—still holding the object to his breast, ‘* Brave fellowl—Are you safe?—Are you hurt?” were the cries that surrounded him, ““T s’pose I’d been a cinder now if that sensi- ble somebody hadn’t turned the water on,” he replied, ‘* Hot up there?—hot ain’t no word for it! That water jumped into steam. But, it lasted long enough to help me through.” Hardly had his foot left the ladder before two firemen seized it, and. shifted it to another window at which a human form had just ap- This new incident took the attention of most of the people from the lad. “Tt reckon that man, whatever his name is, owes me a new coat, and some plaster for scorches,” he coolly remarked, ‘‘ I’ve captured the box that I s’pose holds his spondulicks,” He now displayed the object which he had clasped so closely, It was a mahogany casket, inlaid with what seemed silver, which formed a curved border round the lid, and in its center the letters J. P. C. ‘« Who's to take care of this?” asked the boy, looking round him, ‘'I ain’t to be trusted with somuch wealth. Couldn’t keep my fingers from investing. Where's the man as owns it?” ‘*He’s been taken away to a warm quarter,” answered a policeman, who stood near. ‘‘ Give me the box, I will take care of it till he shows up again,” The boy—one of the sharpest of the sharp kind they grow in New York--looked up into the policeman’s face with eyes that seemed to pierce through him. ‘*T reckon not, Johnny,” he answered, ‘I boss this job yet. Come over here to Tommy Brown’s shebang, on the avenue, and we'll take a peep inside—for the box has got the key in it, Then, I judge, Tommy will be a safe hand to hold it.” The policeman made no objection, and in a few minutes he and the boy, with a group of the spectators, found themselves within an all- ‘| night restaurant of the neighborhood. Very few minutes sufficed to complete the task which had brought them there, The box, which, as the boy had said, had the key in it, was thrown open and its contents quickly ex- amined. To the surprise, and soraewhat to the disap- intment, of the onlookers, no money was found nit, It was half-filled with papers, but among these was not a coin and no vestige of a bank- note, : ** You’ve missed the pile, boy,” said the police- man, with a laugh. ‘‘ Hit the wrong package. Didn’t look far enough.” — ‘¢ Look far enough!” cried the boy, indignant- ly. ‘*I saw what looked like hell-fire—and I reckon that wasfar enough. A feller don’t look far in a blaze like that. Nor1 don’t swallow your idear, nohow, ’Twixt you and me I’ve a notion that Mr. J, P. C.is a fake. He’s trying to put up a job for something or other. I sooner see his money than hear tell of it. Had- n’t we best look through them papers?” ‘*No,” said Tommy Brown, as the boy had called the restaurant-keeper. ‘‘ Hands off them papers! You've put this in my care, and this is ee ap oe He closed the box, locked it, took out the key, and handea it to the policeman, “You keep that. Ill keep the box. We've got no right to meddle with this man’s haa ou be on hand to-morrow with the key. He’ll turn up by rey time, and we can pass over his roperty. s for you, young man, you come Leite too. No doubt he'll reward you—as he ought to.” ‘Bless your heart, I don’t want no reward!” answered the boy heartily. ‘If I'd saved the chap his fifty thousand, things ’d been different —if be had ’em, which 1 don’t take for gospel.” He shook his head and walked away, with an air as if he took no further interest in the affair. ‘‘A mighty sharp-cut and smart youngster that,” said the policeman, with a nod of his head toward the gamin. ‘‘ A regular Bowery blossom,” answered the restaurant-keeper. ‘‘That boy knows enough now to set up a Wallstreet broker. The man that sbuts up his eyes has got to use a big plaster,” Meanwhile the youthful hero had left the res- taurant and was walking back toward the fire, whistling as he went, For some reason he seemed in high good humor with himself, for he broke now and then into little ripples of laugh- er. ‘* Got the notion in my noddle that there’s fun ahead,” he said to himself, ‘* Wait until I see Dick and unload my bag of news. I bet he turns back his eyelids, I thought, somehow, I’d seen that chep before; but the J. P, C, nails it, If there ain’t pancakes on the fire then I don’t know beans.” By the time the boy again reached the locality of the fire, it bad passed its most interesting stage, All had been saved that could be, and the flames were now masters of the whole edi- fice, How many victims had fallen into their awful gulf would perhaps never be known, rn In less than’ half an bour more tbe floors had all fallen in, and the walls were tumbling—every fall sending up a great shower of sparks and flamesinto thesky. The firemen were directing all their efforts to save the surrounding property —the hotel being far past saving. Leaving the locality, the lad strolled away toward his home, stili whistling gayly as he went, and occasionally, as before, breaking out intoa laugh. He evidently felt highly pleased with his night’s work. The home of the youth whose adventures we have followed to this point was in one of the most modest sections of the great metropolis. Small as the house was, several families occupied it, but he and his mother—who constituted the family—were rich enough to have three rooms {o themselves, On reaching his own very small, but 7. bedroom, the youth unbuttoned his coat, whic he had kept tightly buttoned ever since leaving the ladder, and threw open his high-buttoned vest, As he did so, a bulky package feil out and dropped on the table! ‘*Tommy Brown’s got the box, but he ain’t got the whole job,” avowed the lad, with a grin of contentment, ‘‘This ’coon ain’t quite as green asa jay-bird, nary time, I didn’t climb up that ladder and jump into that fire so's I could play a Sunday School softy when I came dewn, Not much! I don’t believe there’s any fifty thousand in this, ’cause that fifty thousand isa fake; but it’s my notion it’s got something in it that'll ’most make Dick Wister stand on his head and kick his heels into the air. -I’ve got it in my noddle that I’ve opened out a mighty promising trail to-night; and I’m going on it to- morrow ’fore the sun gets hot,” 4 Ten minvtes afterward the boy was in bed and fast asleep, not kept a moment awake by the fact that his face smarted and burned from the scorch- ing it had got from the flames, CHAPTER If. AN EYE-OPENER, Mr, RicHARD WIsTER, detective, sat in his office reading the morning paper. He was in his easiest attitude, with one foot on the table, tke other on a chair, and his own easy-c tilted well back. From the pipe in his mouth abies of smoke came as regularly as from a loco- motive. In an opposite corner of the room, diligently employed in cleaning ‘his'’shoes, which were cov- ered with patches of mud, was his good-looking, well-got-up, i and wide-awake ap- shee i ‘Frank felton, known as Detective n a ‘ * By Jove, that wasn’t no slow go of a fire— that hotel blaze!” cried the detective, taking the pipe from his lips. ‘‘ And thirty or forty wretches gone under, it seems.” He read on, - “The firemen did their duty bravely. Some mighty daring acts, Here’s a bit now—d’ye hear, Frank?” =. ‘Dm a-listening,” answered the other, indiffer- ently. ; ie Vy daring young fool of a boy:—to run up a ladder, and jump into a furnace to save money, fora man who hadn’t the wit to save his own ‘“* Hadn’t none to rahe growled Frank, now 1g polishing briskly on his right foot-covering, __ oe ae ae =
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tina ‘What's that?” ‘*The feller badn’t enough ducats to make a laster for a wart,” averred Frank, now direct- ing his attention to his left foot. ‘ What the blazes do you know about it?” ‘*T was there; that’s all,” ‘*You there? I might have known that, though. You’re everywhere, you Bowery rat, But, the paper says the boy came out alive, with a box under his arm, and left it in safe keeping. How do you know there was no money in it?” ‘*T here weren’t nothin’ but papers. I took a squint to the bottom.” ‘“* Why you—sun-downer! and stand up and face me, were you—” **Don’t you say nothin’ more ’bout that boy, or you'll make me proud and sassy,” rejoined Frank, rubbing away more briskly than ever. “*T might have known it,” said Dick to him- self. ‘‘There’s no deviltry the young rascal’s not in. Tell you what it is, Frank,” he cried, dropping his paper.and starting up, ‘* there’s been enough of this, Pl have no more of it, If you go and make a ghost of yourself, what’s to become of the smartest young ferret in New York? If you try any more such risks, you dog, I’ll take a cart-whip to your hide.” ‘* See here, Dick Wister, answered Frank, dropping the brush and facing him, ‘ Don’t you begin now buying me for a fool, ’cept you’ve ‘gota big pile of greenbacks to waste, I didn’t jump into that fire for a lark, nary time. And, if I ain’t bad?y sold, I’m in on the biggest thing that’s been scratched up for a year.” ‘*'The deuce you are!” ‘* The coon lied wholesale! He didn’t have no more money in his room than I’ve got in my ~pocket—and if peanuts was selling at a cent u Drop that brush See here, Frank, . grab, [ couldn’t buy a sbell. The fellow’s work- ing a job of some sort, and he’s built that lie out of wind to help him out. But, that’s only the beginning. Whodo you guess he was?” **T'd say General Washington, only he’s dead, I can’t think of anybody else,” answered Dick. ‘¢ What do you think of the Artful Dodger?” ** The devil!” Dick kicked over his chair, this time, in his surprise. “Tf it ain’t him it’s his brother. I didn’t climb that ladder for no lark, I tell you. When the feller was bellowing like a bull-calf ’bout his money, I twigged his face, and jumped three feet. That's what took me up the ladder. All I've got to say is, that the box I brought down chad those letterson it: J. P. C,” ** John P. Clarkson!” exclaimed Dick. ‘* Tt looks amazing that way.” ** You left that box to be called for?” ‘Yes, with Tommy Brown, of the Seafoam Restaurant,” a Dick hastily thrust on his hat and seized his overcoat. ‘* You rascally long-winded jackanapes!” he | alah ‘* Why didn’t you tell me this before y>reak? If it is the Dodger our cake’s all ‘dough, He’s been after that box two hours ago.—Come, you monkey, snatch your hat and get ready to fly.” ‘*T don’t see no such hurry,” rejoined the boy in his easiest manner, ** You don’t, eh?’ Dick bent his eyes on him sharply. ‘‘ Ha! what is iti—You confounded retailer of news, you’ve got something else in your bag!” MARS, bet!” answered Frank, seating himself q Ye Dick flung his overcoat on a chair-back, tossed his hat on the table, and dropped again into his chair, ‘** Out with it!” he ordered. ‘‘Nomoreof your squirrel tricks, you cub,” ‘* This is it,” answered the grinn os paper parcel «from: ae wasn’t quite green enough ve Tomm Brown the whole biz. ent a rifts eeuaae for myself.” “* You're a jewel, Frank!” ** Dunno “bout that; but I ain’t no fool,” Dick seized the package, which was made of stiff wrapping-paper, neatly folded and securely ti He turned it over. On it was written in a plain band: : *Jacos P, CONVERSE,” boy, as he vest, ‘I _ “Sos is that your J, P. C.? I hope you have- n’t found a mare’s nest,” _“ [reckon you don’t think the Dodger’s carry- ing his own name—after footing it from the po- — Ss getting a cool thousand put on his “Hardly,” answered Dick. ‘ But—there’s a ‘merchant named Jacob P, Converse in this city. It—” he ceased speaking, being now occupied in i a EF erg pgs Rn crn ee I a A a ee — Flipper Frank’s Flush i ae teh PS carefully untying the package. For reasons of his own he preferred not to cut the string. While he is thus engaged we may as well re- late a fragment of previous history, of much im- portance to our story. A year before, Diek Wister and his apprentice had been engaged in an interesting bit of detec- tive work, which ended in the unearthing of a gang of counterfeiters, of whom the leading spirit was a man named John P, Clarkson—a keen rogue, who had so long eluded the police that they had complimented him with the title of ** The Artful Dodger.” He proved himself to be worthy of the title. He was tried, and sentenced to ten years’ im- prisonment as a counterfeiter. Yet, by a very shrewd trick, he managed to escape the bands of the police. He had since been sought for, far and wide, the State offering a reward of a thou- sand follars for his apprehension; yet he was still at large, and the search for him had been almost given up as useless, Under these circumstances, Dick Wister’s in- terest in the boy’s communication is not to be wondered at, There was an unusual nervousness in his fingers as he sought to untie the strings, which doubled the difficulty of the job. ‘Hang that knotl—By Jove, boy, if you’ve struck the Dodger’strail— Ha! that’sit.” The knot yielded, ‘‘There’s a thousand in this, sure enough, but there’s glory and reputation worth ten thousand more. Can the Dodger have been masquerading here under our noses as a business man? He's sharp enough for it.” The string was now loose. He threw it aside, and turning the package over, carefully unfold- it Frank looked on with intense interest. Was it possible that the man had told the truth, and that fifty thousand dollars in bank-notes lay within? All things are possible, and he watched the opening paper as a miner might watch the stroke of the pick that is to lay bare a gold mine. In a minute the package was wide open, and its contents revealed. Frank fell back in his chair, with a breath of relief. ‘*T knowed it!” he said. “I told Tommy Brown the feller waa playing it. Nothing but papers, and not a greenback in the pile.” The package, indeed, seemed to contain only a number of neatly-folded papers—letters, the most of them seemed, As for money, there was not a trace of it present, : Not a word came from the detective’s lips, He opened the letters one after another, read them with an eye that seemed to take in their important contents almost at a glance, and laid them one by one aside, Not a change of expression came upon his im- passive features as he read, When finished, he took up his pipe, filled it again with tobacco, struck a match, and lighted it, He leaned back in his chair in exasperating silence. Yet: the boy asked no questions. He knew that there is no use to pump at a well that will flow of itself if it be given time. _ Dick took a dozen puffs in silence, Then he picked up one of the letters, and looked over it ain. ‘*You’rea jewel, Frank, as I said before,” he remarked, ‘T know it,” answered Frank, in the same tone, ‘‘They’d have me among the crown jewels of England, if they could get me, But %m out of a true-blue American mine, and there ain’t any use in Vic’s bidding for me,” ‘*These papers may be worth their weight in gold,” continued Dick, ‘‘That’s more to the p’int than calling boys jewels,” retorted Frank. ‘‘ Come now; let out; is the Dodger in them?” ‘That I can’t say,” answered Dick, ‘‘ but my fancy runs that way.” He took a folded letter from a package in his drawer and pha gs the writing. “Look, boy; it’s very much alike, This is one of the Dodger’s epistles. It’s very much the same, ‘‘1¢ is the same, I should say,” announced Frank, after somparing the two letters, ‘‘ What are they all about, Dick?” he asked, “That’s what I’m trying to smoke out, I don’t just see through this little vio This writer—he signs himself, you see, A Wilson —is working up some game which his corres- pondent Converse isin. But he’s too cautious to pus down in ink what it is, or where it’s to be: one, And these letters came from all over the West. The latest comes from Chicago, All I can make out is that it will take a big stake in ready cash to work the job, and Converse is to find the money.” ‘By Jiminy!” exclaimed Frank, “is that what he’s up to? Swearing he lost fifty thou- sand in the fire! Like as not that’s a dodge to shut up people’s eyes. The fifty thousand’s salt- ed down somewhere for this game,” Dick’s only reply was to rise, knock the ashes from his pipe, and wrap up the letters again. Then, putting the package in his drawer, ke re- sumed his coat and hat. ‘* Come,” he said to Frank. ‘¢ Where are you going?” ‘‘To Tommy Brown's, I want to see this man Lae he comes for his box—if we are not too ate,’ In less than half an hour afterward the two were in the restaurant which Hrank had visited the night before under such exciting circum- stances, * Hello, young one!” exclaimed the proprietor heartily. ‘*’Round again, safe and sound, and not a hair singed! Give us your hand, boy, don’t often have: the chance to welcome such a hero.” **How are you, fire-bug?’ asked the police- man, from a corner in which he was seated, ‘* Has the man been after his box yet?” asked Frank, ‘*No,” answered the policeman. ‘‘ He didn’t know it was saved tillan bourago, Itook him word myself, and he jumped a foot from the floor, Whether it was joy or t’other, I couldn’t make out,” ‘*Didn’t I tell you it was a fake?’ averred Frank. ‘“ He didn’t want it saved!” ‘“*Maybe mot, but— Hush! here he comes now!” He had seen an approaching form from a win- dow. In a mivute afterward the door opened and the rescued man walked into the saloon. Dick Wister, who had seated himself in a re- tired corner of the room on entering, now looked up, fixing bis eyes with much interest on the stranger, What he saw was a manof over the middle height, and somewhat corpulent in figure. His face was smoothly shaved, and while in no re- spect. handsome, had a certain dignity, and a fixed and resolute expression, . Frank looked toward the detective, and caught a negative shake of the head from him, He had just arrived at thesame opinion himself. This man was not John P, Clarkson, though he bore considerable resemblance to that personage. He was enough like him to be his brother, but was not the Artful Dodger himself, a ‘“*T am told you havea box of mine, saved from the fire last night,” be said in a voice of studied ease to the restaurant-keeper. ‘*Hereitis,” answered Mr, Brown, ‘‘ The key I gave to Mr. Jones here, that there may be no meddling with the contents.” ** Judicious, but unnecessary,” answered Mr. Converse, receiving the key from the policeman, ‘* Tt only holds some ordinary business papers,” He unlocked it, and ran his fingers carelessly through the contents, ; : ; “They are all right. Do I understand that there was nothing else saved? My money—” His voice seemed to quiver, *“T reckon it’s oches, in the hotel cellar,” an- swered Frank stepping forward. ‘’Most v4 handful of ashes "ll pass for it. I thought I it when I struck that box. After I got that it was a leetle too warm to go on a hunt for spon- dulicks.” “ Ah!” exclaimed Mr. Converse. ‘' Do I understand that this is the brave boy who risked his life to save my property?” ‘*That’s about the size of it,” answered the liceman, ‘Then I certainly owe him a reward, Here, my dear young friend.” : 6 pressed some money into Frank’s hand. ** And you, gentlemen—” * No, no, we want nothing. You have lost enou h already.” t’s 0,” said Frank. ‘‘ And I won't teke @ penny, either.” ‘You must, boy! I insist on it.” ‘‘T won't,” declared Frank, ‘I'd think I was robbing you.” The geatenen refused to receive the money back, but Frank thrust it into his ket, Sele that he wasn’t mean enough to take t. ° A conversation ensued, in which Mr, Converse uestioned Frank closely concerning his e: - ence in the burning room. Did he see nothing but the box? The money was done up in a close paper parcel, ready to be taken to bank next morning. Frank stoutly avowed that he considered the box Segity Se satisfy any reasonable person. When he got his ten ers on that he made for the ladder, After a few words more the
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gentleman left, taking the box with him, and with renewed thanks to all concerned. Ten minutes afterward the detective and the boy left the restaurant, ** 'W hy didn’t you take the money?” asked Dick, ““You fairly earned it,” ‘“*{ didn’t want to be in his pay,” answered Frank, ‘‘I might have towork againsthim. A feller jikes to take a job with clean hanss,” “A good thought. That man is not our game, but he makes a mighty close likeness to the | Dodger. There’s work in the wind for both of us, my lad,” CHAPTER III. THE SHADOW OF FRAUD, FRANK MELTON proved not wrong in his cal- culations, On the second day after the hotel fire an item crept into the local columns of the newspapers, to the effect that Jacob P. Con- verse, dealer in West India coffees and sugars, was in financial! difficulties, through the loss of fifty thousand dollars burned in his room at the great hotel conflagration, Some of the papers expressed sympathy for him, Others said it served him right, What were banks for? Whe+ man with a grain of wit would keep so much inoney in a hotel? Mr. Converse made no reply to these criti- cisms, But the day afterward his creditors re- ceived notice from him that he was in financial straits, and wished them to meet and consider the situation, These successive ae were keenly observed by the detective and his apprentice, The affair looked straight enough, but Dick Wister was not the man to take looks for facts, and he waited developments with curious interest. The meeting of the creditors was a stormy one. They had examined the store and found it nearly empty of stock. The books showed a —_ cash balance, Where wasit? Burned up, said Mr, Converse. This explanation was re- ceived with many sbrugs and looks of doubt, ‘** No business man would keep such a sum ina hotel room,” was the plain declaration, “ It looks like a set-up job,” ** As you will, gentlemen,” answered Mr. Con- verse, with a haughty air. “‘It may not be business to make a heavy purchase at a low figure. That is what I was preparing to do. ere is my check-book, You can see that I drew that money from bank the day before the fire, There was a spot-cash chance for a big deal in coffee the next morning, I worked for the best, as any business man would, Chance and ill luck played against me, that’s all.” The creditors looked at one another, This ex- planation had some reason in it, **What do you propose?” asked the heaviest of them. .* Just this,” was the reply, ‘‘ My business is to the dogs, There’s no use trying to get over this shock. I could not offer ten cents on thedollar. Take all, gentlemen. I am ready to give all {am worth into your hands, and start eas a beggar again,” But we cannot dwell on this scene, That the creditors were angry need not be said. Most of them had strong doubts of the loss of the money in the hotel fire; but how were they to prove this? He had offered them all the property they could find, But how much was there they not find? Mr. Converse seemed to be greatly concerned for their losses. Heshowed them the box which had been saved from the fire, “*We are all losers by that dreadful confla- grote ” he said, feelingly. ‘* Many lost their ves ; others their money. You and I lost our money. This is all I saved—through the aid of a brave boy. The very clothes I have on were loaned me by a friend, I should like you to exumine these papers,” The papers proved to be both innocent and useless, If there had been anything of doubt or value in the box, it had been carefully weeded out. The meeting broke up at length, the creditors as in a very unsatisfied state of mind. wo days afterward the ee losers by the failure were privately called together again; this time at the request of Rich Wisicr, de- ctive. **Gentlemen, I have asked you to meet me on a matter of someimportance,” began Dick. The b sab tr to whom he spoke were the three leadin reditors, Brown ” assembled in the private office o “© You can trust us in that, Mr. Wister.” ; is your opinion of Flipper Frank’s Flush. ———_—- ‘** It is my full belief that there is fraud behind it,” answered Mr. Borden. ‘ But how are we to prove it? This unlucky hotel fire puts us ina hole, He can say what he chooses. The ashes yield no evidence to the contrary.” ‘“‘There may be more evidence than you imagine,” was Dick’s reply. ‘‘This young man was in Mr, Converse’s room after he left it.” He pointed to Frank, who was demurely seat- ed behind him. ‘*Gentlemen, I have your word tor secrecy.— There was more brought out of that fire than the box that has been shown you.” The creditors started sharply at this, and fixed their eyes on Frank with looks of intense curios ity and expectation, ‘*Does Converse know of this?’ asked Mr. Borden ‘*No, There is one way to deal with honest men and another with rogues, This man mary belong to the former class, buy it’s my fancy tie belongs to the latter. Detective Frank—that’s the boy here—has had his eye-teeth cut and knows a thing or two. Converse told you, did he not, that the money was tied up ina paper package?” “ Yes ” The creditors were now in a state of eager ex- pectation, ‘* Here isthe package. You may see for your- selves how many thousands are in it,” He Jaid the ee which Frank had brought him on the table before them, opened it, and re- vealed its contents, ‘*Gentlemen, if you can find any bank-notes there, you will be more lucky than I have been, You may read these letters if you wish,” They gazed blankly at the package, ** Are we to understand that this came out of Converse’s room?” ** You can bet your bottom nickel on that!” averred Frank, now first speaking. ‘What are these letters?” “Read them, You will not gain much from them except that Jacob P. Converse is a rogue, and is in a plot with some other rogue out West, Gentlemen, you bave been victimized.” Mr, Borden snatched up several of the letters and pegas eagerly to read them, The others followed hig example, At the end some words in a low tone passed between them, ‘““We agree with you,” said Mr, Borden, at length, ‘* We have been victimized, Converse must be arrested at once.” ‘** What for?” asked Dick, coolly. “To make him disgorge,” ** And do you fancy you will ever see a penn of that money if you take such action; or if even you let him see that he is suspected? You: are not dealing with a beginner in fraud, my dear sirs.” : bs A ‘** What are we to do, then? Shall we try and lay our bands on this Wilson?” “That might be wiser, But, how will you do $997 mat How?” They looked at one another with questioning eyes. ‘That is more in your line than in ours, Mr. Wister.” ‘*Now you are ing to see daylight ahead,” answered Dick. ‘‘ But to seize Wilson would dono good, The fact is, these men are working some deep game together, and your money is to be used as their capital in crime, If you want to recover your losses their game must be unearthed, and the pair of them caught in the act.” Mr. Borden nodded approvingly. “That is detective work, Mr, Wister. It isin your line, not in ours.” s ao are aod there, ay a, 2 no every- day detective work,” respon ck, ‘‘ Well; what is your idea?” asked the mer- chant. “It is this, in a nutshell,” answered Dick. “Tt takes money to make money. We have a promising lead before us, but it will need funds to work it. I don’t know how deep you are involved in the Converse business, Twenty or thirty thousand likely. Well, are you willing to venture a couple of thousand to recover it? Or © pay the expenses of the job, and a thou- sand for fee?” The three merchants looked at him with a sense of momentary alarm. Were they being asked to throw good money after bad? Then hey looked at one another. Now some words passed in a low tone, Finally Mr. Borden turned to Dick and said: ; ‘ ‘What you say bas reason in it, Mr. Wister. It looks hopeful, too. Yet it isa deep game, as you remark, and may very easily fail. Mr. Thompson thinks we had best shoulder our present losses and stop there. I don’t. If Con- verse is the rogue he seems, I would be will- ing to lose something more to bring him to justice, Let us have time to consider this, ou shall have our answer to-morrow,” ** Meanwhile, not a word,” warned Dick, “Should a whisper get abroad it might spoil our whole game.” ‘* You may trust us, sir.” : “To-morrow be it then. Good-day. Come, Frank,” “By the way, don’t this boy want a situa- tion?” asked one of the merchants. ‘I could make a good place for a boy of his caliber.” **Mucb obliged,” answered Frank, ‘‘ but I’ve got the job now I’m best built for. You'll hear of Detective Frank some of these days, I wouldn’t give up this lay for the best sit in New York,” And holding his head up proudly, Frank fol- lowed his employer into the street. Dick turned to him as they walked along, There was a smile on his face. “‘They bite,” he said, ‘‘There’s work ahead for us,” ** That’s my notion,” answered Frank. “*T would have given a new dollar if I could have seen the inside of that box before Converse had a chance to handle the papers. 1 doubt if he showed them all to the creditors,” ‘* Maybe nou,” chimed in Frank. ‘* But there’s no use taking trouble about that, The past is past. The future isoura, Youm keep ready, youngster, to make a big jump ata moment’s notice.’ ‘*What’s in the wind now?” asked Frank, curiously, ‘*Converse will not sta He will wait for some kin creditors, which they can’t help giving him if he hands them over all his possessions, He will not leave here till he can leave his record clean bebind him, That done—he has business else- where,” ‘* That’s about the size of it,” ‘* Now, Frank, I’m going to put a big trust in you. It is impossible for me to leave New York i at present. I have other irons in the fire. might employ some other detective, but I don’t want to divide the spoilk, Will I be safe in trusting you to trail this man till I get my hands free?’ ‘*That’s for you to say,” answered Frank. **'You know me as well as Ido myself. I'll do my best.” : spoken, boy!” and Dick clapped him heartily on the shoulder. “ Vl trust you, my young pard. I have my eye on Converse, and will know when he is ready to start West, Then you must take the trail, and as you value life, honor, and profit, don’t let bim esca rou. Whether he goes to Chicago, St. Louis, New Orleans, no matter where, don’t let him out of your sight.” ‘* Suppose he sees me?” suggested Frank. ‘*He saw me at Tummy Brown's. He might. twig the cut of my jib.” , “True. You must be disguised. We will have an answer from those merchants to-morrow —a favorable one, I’m sure. Then, with money enough for traveling expenses, you must be. ready to go at the word.” “* That’s me; or at the wink,” answered Frank,. ‘Tl be there, you bet.” long in New York. CHAPTER IV, A RUSH THROUGH SPACE, - THROUGH the busy bustle of passengers at the Grand Central Railroad Station pushed a stout form—that of the gentleman whom we already know as Jacob P, Converse. At some distance behind, and watching his movements intently, were two others; one pre- senting the spare frame and alert face of Dick Wister; the other undoubtedly that of Frank Melton, though greatly changed from his usual appearance, A a 'Frank’s usual negligent apparel, of cheap ma- terial and careless fit, had een replaced by a suit of fine cloth, closely fitting, while the pol- ished cuffs at his wrists, with their gold-linked sleeve-buttons, bis neat: and tie—with its glittering pin, the watch-chain that extended. across his vest, and the other details of his attire, seemed to bespeak the well-cared-for son of a wealthy sire. His face bad changed with his dress. Thefea-— tures were the same, but the expression was dif- ferent. The rollicking heedlessness, alternating witb ferret-like sharpness, of Frank’s usual coun- tenance, were replaced by a look of modest quiet: and lack of assurance that transformed the whole of a release from his | face, No one who had seen the Frank of yes- —
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a a ' oe an Ld oO ee tae wie did not trouble himself to discover. He had Flipper Frank’s Flush. SS eee ee eee pew es a ee ne ee = = as a oe would have recognized the Frank of to- * ay. In fact, this modest expression was no easy matter for the boy to maintain. Some show of the old impudence, some of the old keen flash of the eyes would come back, despite his efforts to sustain his new character. But he had only the eyes of the man in ad- vance to deceive, and he could look as he pleased when out of his range of vision. In one hand Frank grasped a new and hand- some grip-sack; in the other he held a fashion- ablecane. Hemight have been a college student returning home fora holiday, ora well-kept home yout on his way to see the world abroad. ‘* Now, boy, you have only your own wits to lean on, said Dick, as they moved forward through the crowd. ‘‘ Wide-awake’s the word from thison, He is off, and you on his trail, and you wiil not have me to fall back on in diffi- culties,” “ Bless your heart, I will then,” answered Frank. ‘Tl be no further off from you in Chi- cago or San Francisco than I would be in Har- jem or Brooklyn, I’m going to make tbe tele- graph talk, whenever I get in a hole; and I want you to talk square back.” “711 not-be long in answering; that you can trust to, Stay; he is at the ticket-office. Wait here.” Dick slipped through the throng in an easy, gliding fashion of his own, and in less than a minute was beside the railing behind which the ticket-buyers were moving in slow procession. Mr, Converse had just reached the window. ‘* Through; for Buffalo,” ho said. With a quick movement, ihe agent threw out a ticket, took his money, and handed him the change; then turned alertly to the next, while Converse passed on. ‘For Buffalo, eh?” thought Dick, as he took his place in the lina, ‘Is that a blind, or is it business? 1 would give something if I could fol- low up this lay myself; but it will have to be left to Frank’s wit and judgment.” In a minute more he, too, had bought a through ticket for Buffalo, With this hesought _ Frank, who bad remained well in the back- ground, ‘‘Here is your ticket,” he said. ‘ Buffalo seems to be his first stop, This train will only atop at the leading stations, and there you can keep an eye on the platforms—though it’s my notion that he’s bound much further West. Your real work begins when you reach Buffalo. I dor’t think you need further instructions,” ~ “Not much,” answered Frank, ‘* You've crowded me full already. Any more will drive the old lot out, There’s only one thing I’m trusting to. ‘Keep youreyes open, your mouth sbut, and your face out of sight, and look out a cg chances,’ That’s what I’m going to 0. Dick looked on the alert face of the lad with some admiration, **T don’t know any man I’d rather trust,” he remarked. ‘‘There’s only one thing more: If you run out of money wire for it at once. You have enough to carry you for several months, but something might happen. Those creditors have acted bandsomely, and are ready to see us through.” ** And I’m going through, if it’s in the wood,” rejoined Frank resolutely. open, Good-by, old man, and don’t forget Frank!” *‘Good-by, Frank, and good-luck.” Dick pressed nis hand with the fervor of affec- ¢tion—for he had a very soft place in his heart for tthe bright boy; and stood watching his trim form as he passed through the gate a few steps bebind Converse, and moved steadily forward, ‘TI doubt ifa boy of his age ever had sucha big job laid out for him before,” said the detec- tive to himself. “Tt is risky to trust so much to such a young- ster, I ought to go myself—if I could, And yet Frank is as keen 4s a razor, and has had no small experience, I think he’ll make a good record.” The detective turned away, and slowly thread- ed his way back toward the street, his mind still filled with clinging doubts. He hai reason for them, for the boy who had just set cut on his difficult mission was destined to have no light and easy task, in dealing with | the experienced rogue whom he had been set to watch. __ By the time Dick Wister had reached the door | -of the station, the train containing the fugitive a ah youthful pursuer was rolling away on adie nning of its long journey, In what of the train Converse was Frank ‘*There -the gate’s_ taken good care to see that he was on the train, and had not left it again, and that was all he cared for just now—other thau to keep his face from the man’s eyes, How sharp a man Converse was his pursuer had no means of knowing, butif he should recog- nize him as the boy who had saved his box of papers from the burning building it might rcuse suspicion in his mind, or otherwise stand in the way of success, so that caution was necessary. Frank, meanwhile, set himself to enjoying his journey. He bad never before been far away from the streets of New York, and was in ardent hope of much pleasure and profit from the long route before him, He would certainly come back with a wide addition to his knowledge of the world, and much food for future thought, Away they went, mile after mile speeding backward under the engine’s rattling wheels. The day was a fine one for travel, the sun not blindingly bright, yet well lighting up the plains and valleys through which sped the train, and gilding silver the spires of distant villages, each of which was visible for a few minutes as the train dashed swiftly onward. Here green rolling hills, and there fertile val- leys; bere & well-farmed country, there broad pasture-fields; here the glint of river-waters, there the dark shadows of thick clustering wood- land ;—all was new to the young. traveler, and all full of enjoyment for his unsated eyes. Through village after village, through towns of more pretension, they dashed without stop- ping, groups of loungers on the platforms look- ing with a mild interest at the flying train, strect after street opening outand running away in far perspective—only to vanish again after a second’s glance, houses chasing eaca other like the moving figures in 4 panorama, Here and there, at the important cities on their route, the rattling wheels slowly slackened speed, until they came to a halt, and for a few minutes the train stood still, as if to take breath for an- other wild plungs through space, At these stations Frank had work laid out for him, At each of them he left the car and de- scended to the platform, looking keenly along ihe line of the train to see if Converse did the same, Only once was he successful in this quest, Converse did leave the train. Butit seemed to be only for a breath of fresh air, ior he scram- bled hastily back at the ‘‘ All aboard” of the conductor. Frank, who had taken care to keep his face in skadow, followed his example, and they wer» away again. But, we must be excused from giving the varied details of this day of travel, or of the meny vivid impressions it made on the mind of the boy, whose experience of life had been main- ly confined to the bustling streets of a great city. The new world of the country was 4 revelation tohim, Many a time did he feel a strong desire, as some fresh bit of rural loveliness broke upon his vision, to leave the train and his mission, and enjoy to the full the charm of those sunny landscapes, But, duty outruled inclination, and he was forced to satisfy himself with eye-glimpses of such a wonderful outlook as bad never come to his dreaming fancy in his narrow city chamber. ‘Night fell hours before the train reached its destination, There was nothing further to see, other than the flashing lights of the stations as the train flew past; or to hear, than the roar of the train, or the momentary bustle as it halted at long intervals. Yet nosleep came tothe young traveler's eyes. He was too unused to the railroad for slumber to visit his senses eusily, And he never for a moment forgot the necessity of wakefulness and incessant vigilance, . ; It was midnight when they rolled into the sta- tion at the aeres Lake City. Now the young detective had every reason to be wide awake, What were Converse’s plans! Had he bought a ticket to Buffalo as.a blind, and_was it bis pur- pose to go on without delay—to Chicago, or else- where? This question could only be answered by events, Frank lost not a moment in springing from the car to the platform of the weil-lighted station, Indeed, the train had barely stopped before his feet were on the boards. 5 In a minute more people were swarming from the train, Frank had located the car which held the man in whom he wasinterested, and watched that with the eyes of a hawk. His watchfuiness was soon rewarded, The portly form of Con- verse was Nering' descending from the car and” moving steadily forward, Frank followed him, grip-sack in hand. It was soon evident that the traveler had ended rN ae a SES Se Oe ee eee ne eC el er his journey for that night. He walked through the station, and out through the lire of vocifer- ating cabmen, and took his seat in a hotel coach that was backed up to the pavement. Frank hurried forward, with a momentary impulse to enter the same coach; but second thoughts caused him to halt. This course was risky. Hecontented himself with observing the name of the hotel on the coach-panels, and turn- ed away. Not until the coach had rattled off, with its load of passengers, did he turn bis steps in the same direction, ‘¢ He’s nailed for to-night, anyhow,” he said to himself, ‘‘I reckon I can walk. I’m in for a good snooze for the rest of the night, and an early get-up in the morning. Now for the hotel.” . A few questions put him on the right track, and within ten minutes be found bimself in the broad waiting-room of the hotel to which Con- verse had been driven. He was not in sight, nor was his name on the hotel-register. Frank, while writing his name, looked curi- ously up the row of names before him, That of ** Converse” was not there. ‘*Has he changed his name, or given me the slip?” he asked himself. ‘‘ Not the last any- how.” He had at that moment caught sight of a well- known form on the stairway. ‘* 1d like to know which of these two names he’s sailing under,” Within fifteen minutes afterward, bowever this and all other thoughts were driven out of the boy’s sleepy brain. Stretched on a hotel bed, he Was scon as sound asleep as if slumber bir ys one thing needful im this world of care and toil, CHAPTER V. A MAN OF MANY NAMES, AN early breakfast, a short walk through the wide streets of Buffalo, and Frank Melton was ready for his day’s work, The morning was one of brisk temperature, A sharp northwest blast blew over the lakes and whistled through the streets, forcing the boy to button his ulster and draw up his collar over his ears, “Stinging weather, by Jiminy!” he said, with ashiver. ‘‘ Dick said I'd find it worse up here than in York, and I reckon he about hitit. It’s lucky he bought me this warm-em-up. Tl be sensible to hike back to the hotel,— No I won't,” he finished, as something caught his eye, This was the form of Mr, Converse, who was walking slowly along the opposite side of the street, The sight of him roused all the detective instinct in the boy’s blood, and he set himself to watch his movements, It was not a difficult task, The steps of the gentleman seemed to be directed to the post- office, Reaching this, he entered and was lost to sight for several minutes, He emerged émpty- handed, and continued his walk, Frank still followed. Yet there was nothing to learn, Converse was simply taking a morning constitutional. Leaving the business thoroughfare, he sought one of the broad and handsome residence streets of the city, where he strolled slowly onward, ag if admiring its stately edifices, with their broad and tasteful grounds. . From there, through # series of streets, Con- verse sought the river-front of the city, then in all tha bustle of the active shipping trade which ‘eenters there. Vessels loading and peace 2 drays and wagons coming and going, hun of men actively engaged in busy labors, the boy gazed on a scene of bustling turmoil not sur- pie by that of the wharves of the metropolis itself, But in all this he took little interest, It was too much like what he saw every day of his life to have any novelty for him. What he did look on with interest were the waters which bathed the wharves on which he stood. He knew thsefi these were the waters of the Niagara River, and that not many miles from where he stood these quiet waters Cashed or with race-horse speed, leaping like the ocear waves when lashed with the whip of the hurri- cane, and then in one broad mass poured over @ precipice, making the most stupendous cataract known in the world—the far-famed Falls of Ni- agara. “Wouldn't I ive something to see them!” said the boy to himself. “Ivain’t much good ene St this water and trying to see pictures in it. Don’t Jacob P. want to see the Falls? E ~
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ae toe pee, PEER TERIAL? MS ey "sero iy Rae Py a Wee MAN RY a4 y CI feat gi cate i sed do, amazing, and I’d give him a V out of my pile if he’d only take a run down there. But I don’t s’pose he’s so obliging,” However that was, Jacob P., as the boy called him, had by this timeseen enough of the wharves, and bent his steps away from that locality—per- oo sea to escape the biting wind that whistled past ise Frank duly followed him, Pleasure was one thing and duty another, and duty came first, In ® half-hour afterward Converse stopped again at the post-office, The morning mail wags now in, and he had been simply killing time till its arrival. This time he left its doors with a letter in his hand, and a look of satisfaction on his face, He walked now directly to the hotel. Here he sought the smoking-room, treated himself to a cigar, and deliberately opened his epistle, throwing the envelope into the waste- Pat r basket. rank watched him from an adjoining room, He saw him purse his brows over the document, frown fora moment, and then assume a more leased look as he read further down. Finally © leaped from his chair, thrust the letter into his pocket, and walked with a brisk tread into the reception-room of the hotel. **Means business,” thought Frank. ‘ That letter’s made up his mind forhim, He didn’t know what he was to do, but he knows now— and I reckon I soon will.” Converse’s first first movement was to a raii- road time-table, which he studied diligently for several minutes, Then he turned to the hotel clerk and asked for the key of his room, ** W bat number?” “cc 820. ” ** Here it is.” In a minute more he was ascending in the ele- vator to the upper floors, / Frank, who had kept well in the background, now 8 tepped forward and examined the time- table. 1t wasthat of the through Express trains on the westward roads. He next lounged up to the desk and cast his eye over the register, | best leave it with the clerk.” ) ! | There it was, room number 820, name—‘' Caleb | Williams,” The boy gave a meaning whistle as he turned away. He next sought the smoking-room, and picked up the envelope that lay on the top of the contents of the waste-basket, The name was the same—‘'Mr, Caleb Wil- jiams. An equally interesting feature of the envelope was the post-mark, This read, *‘ Louis- ville, Ky.” The young detective seated himself in the cbair which Converse had just vacated, and set himself to work with all the power of his think- ing machine, ‘Wonder how many names he carries in his bag?” he said to himself, ‘ Don’t s’pose that se though; names is as cheap as bananers; what he’s up to is of more account. It’s my notion he’s got word to streak out West, for Louisville or somewhere. ‘Spected to meet somebody here likely, but if he did that some- body’s gone on an 'sent him word to foller. That’s ’bout the size of it, far as I can make he and I reckon I’m in for another railroad ri de, and a sight of the wide West,” So confident was Frank of this that he walked to the office, called for his bill, and ordered his traveliag-bag to be brought down-stuirs, ‘*When does the next Chicago sah train go out?” he asked. ‘leave their valuables with the clerk, as the pro- . oe eee Frank’s Flush. As before, he watched Converse till he had | were saying? It might be of great importance left the train, observed what hotel he bad chosen | to his guest, and followed bim thither, this time quickly He slipped around in a careless manner, tak-. enough to reach the office before the guests from | ing care to keep his face turned from Converse’s: the train bad registered. eyes, and in a few minutes came up close. behind He stood close enough to see Converse write | them. Here he leaned in a listless manner his name, and observed that four others followed | against an iron column, before the time came for himself to place his **Can you not cut loose and go through now?” signature in the book. Converse was saying. ‘‘It is important to close He was full of curiosity. Was it Jacob P. | the deal without delay. I am off for St. Louis Converse or Caleb Williams who had just ar- | on the next train. Come, get ready and go rived in Chicago? A glance up the page for the | with me,” fifth name above his own decided it. An odd ** When does the train pull out?” smile came upon his face as he saw there written **Tn ten minutes,” the name of ** Rowland Hill, Boston.” **Can’t do it, then. I’ve got some things to * Bless my pumpkin head if be ain’ took an- | wind up here. But Pm in on the deal solid. Dll other name out of his bag!” ran through the | be down the road ina fewdays, Where shall Ll boy’s mind, find yout” “Tf he keeps on he'll have enough names to They stepped away as he spoke, and Frank make a city directory, He’s bound not to leave | did not catch the answer, though he listened in- his name for a trail, that’s sure. Butif he only | tently, knowed_ how closa this little ferret was on his To St. Louist—In ten mioutes?—Here was track he’d not take life quite so easy.” news! He had very nearly been thrown from Frank spent the rest of that day in a state of | the track, To St, Louis be it, then! watchfulness, But nothing came from it. Con- He walked to the ticket- office, thrust bis hand verse did not even leave the hotel. into his pocket, and—it came ‘out empty. He It was ten o'clock at night when the young | remembered now, to bis annoyence, that he had spy sought his room, fatigued with the day’s | left all bis money "with the hotel-clerk. labor, What was to be done? He had not change “*T never thought of asking what’s the tariff | enough in his pocket to buy a ticket for half the here,” he said, ‘‘ but I s’pose it’s all down on this | distance. And how was he to live if all his ee ere paper. ” He turned to the card of terms on the | money was spent on railroading? He stood in ~ room door. ‘Four dollarsa day! Whew!” he | a deep quandary. whistled. ‘* By Jiminy! hesha’n’t fling me that way,” he ) declared, at length. ‘‘To St, Louis or bu'st, erry my sentiments. Here goes for all that’s n it Asking the price of a ticket, he found he had not money enough to carry him half-wa But prietors will not be responsible for anything left | to go back to the hotel would be to imperil ‘all his in the rooms,’ By jingo! and I’ve got my : work. He must go on, for good or bad, pocket chock full of money—three or four hun- | Purchasing a ticket to the first stopping-place, dred, I wonder if it’s safe to keep it bout me? Frank boldly entered the train, having first seen Some sneak might slip inand gofor my pile; | Converse dothe same after a sbake hands with and that'd be thundering awkward. Maybe Id | his companion. In three minutes afterward it was under way, The amount of money the boy had on his per- with Frank asa passenger on a ticket for less son, indeed, was something immense to him, and | than half-way, and fifty cents in his pocket as the wet he thought about it the heavier it | his sole available wealth. weighe | A. few minutes decided him. He would not take the chance, but would leave his money with the clerk, This he did, making him countit and give a receipt for the amount. This done the boy went SERRE eee ee to bed with a clear conscience, and with onlya | TH train on which the young detective found few dollars in loose change in his pocket. | himself was a Lightning Express, making but The events of the succeeding few days we need | two or three stops between Chicago and St. not closely chronicle, Converse seemed waiting, | Louis. The first of these was at Bloomington, but, meanwhile, taking it easy; and Frank, who | #bout one-third of the distance, to which place soon decided that nothing was to be gained by his ticket took him. constantly watcbing him, took the opportunity |, Beyond Bloomington he had but his wits to to see what he could of the growing giant of the | trust to, But, though he hac no experience in West, the great city of Chicago. {the art of * beating a railroad,” he was not. There was only one movement made by Con- | tr oubled by fears of the result. verse which Frank found of interest, He track- It's time enough to jump a fence when you ed him to one of the leading banks of the city, | CO™® toit,” washis motto, “There’s nota grain and saw him make what seemed a large deposit, | Of Sense in manufacturing worries.” though he could make no guess i ru its | _ Bloomington was duly reached and passed, amount. and now the fence which Frank had to jump came every minute nearer and nearer. Fortu- on oclpepape iey pat pagoda es fess, nately for him, the conductor had abundant time to take up his tickets, and was in no hurry. ne sare him, together with a book of blank | An hour had passea before he came through the train, with his d d of *‘ Tickets.” ** Here’s news worth sending to Dick!” thought ain, with bis demand 6 icke “T could live a week on that at home and | not half try. It’s luce ky somebody else’s | footing this bill,—W hat elee is there here?” He | continued to read. ‘Guests are advised to | CHAPTER VI.. Frank was busy reading a news pense when he the young scout. ‘The creditors might want to nail this cash. I s’pose it’s some of Jacob P.’s stealings. Wish I knowed what name he put it in under, Anyhow I’ll wire Dick all the names he’s swinging.” Seeking the telegraph-office, Frank sent a long message to his chief in New York, bidding him ** Two o'clock,” “That so? Then you needn’t hurry. I'll wait and try what sort of a dinner you fellows are up to. Meanwhile I’ll takea walk around and exhaust your city.” ~The clerk looked after him with a curious came along, and failed’ to hear tae ® conductor’s mild call of ‘ Ticket.” It was repeated, more Dentin: this time, but the boy gave no sign of earin s Ticket! ” eried the conductor sharply, ‘‘ Show your ticket!” He might have been speaking to the moon, for “Is that chap putting it on, or has he really been through the mill?” heasked himself, ‘One can always count on airs and impudence in the young sprouts nowadays; but common pbonse and experience are not so plentiful a crop.” At two o'clock sharp tbe Lake Shore Express drew out from the Buffalo station, and Frank Melton began another long journey over the broad United States, Jacob Converse, alias Caleb Williams, was aboard the train, and the “th it and og bad again begun, he you fatul detective was no longer troubled the fear that his game might leave the train : a way station. 8 was so Bure that be would not = short of Chicago, that he hardly gave him a thought on the route, but set himself to enjoy the scener "hy t was not till, on the next day, the train - Janded its passengers in the great city of the West rn Jakes, that Frank returned to the object his quest, all the attention Frank paid to him. He turned over the page = his paper and began to read the other side. “Do you hear me? Show your ticket!” ex- claimed the angry official, giving the inattentive passenger a sharp rap on the shoulder. The fact of his being but a boy may have made the conductor hit harder than he would have done witha man. However that was, the blow on Frank’s shoulder was not a light one, and he sprung up with a hot show of anger. “What are you hitting me for?” he cried fiercely. ‘‘ Do you think because I’m only a boy seen, just before him, Mr, Co’ you can come round here pounding me?” conversing earnestly with a middle-aged and ‘* Show your ticket!” again demanded the con- well-dressed gentleman. ductor, The boy was at once wide awake. He follow-| rn show you!” exclaimed vane savagely. ed them into the station, and observed them | ‘‘ Square yourself, if that’s your ga T done from a distance. Their conversation continued | let no man Aad me without bitting b tana ” in the same earnest manner, | > nar gt boy, I asked for your ticket bras Could he get near enough to hear what they ' times. I had to 8 you,” return answer if he had any ‘directions to ve, On leaving the office he strolled on indefinitely. intending to return in a couple of hours to see it there was any answer. His steps took him to the lake shore of the city, and he walked along here for an hour, much interested in the evidences of business which abundantly met his eyes. Returning by an indefinite course toward the hotel, chance led his footsteps to the Chicago and St. Louis R, R. station. This fact would have been of no importance to him had he not mnverse, who was pe ge ta ie eet = Se: Lee Race te i ee ~ oe
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‘swered the boy. “Had to tap me, did you? By the jumping frog, I don’t let anybody tap mel If you ere twice as big as me I don't care for you the toss of ared cent. Mind that, Mister Man.” ‘*Tve got to see your ticket, [ tell you,” cried the conductor impatiently. “Got to, have you? That’s a big word out of a little mouth. Why don’t you carry a club with you, and tap passengers on the head when you come round? It will save your breath.” ‘*Come, boy, no nonsense! Let me see your ticket. I must go on.” “Go on! I don’t care!” retorted Frank, ‘I didn’t ask you tostop. If youcalculate to pound me into showing my ticket, youw’re barking up the wrong tree, that’s all,” Frank settled back in his seat, opened his news- paper, and began to read again, as serenely as if the conductor were a mile away. The latter stood perplexed. He demanded the ticket again, in a fierce tone, but the boy paid no more attention than if it had beena buzzing fiy. The conductor pushed him, No attention, He raised his hand as if to strike him again, But he was a little dubious about stirring up this wasp. “ie ron have you put off the train,” cried the angry official. ‘‘ The rules of the road must be observed,” **Tf you do I'll make your old road howl,” an- “T reckon there’s somebody knows a thing or t7vo besides you road emperors, Maybe you think passengers have nothing to do but to show up tickets, You've seen mine often enough now, and if you touch me again lll make you see stars.” The conductor, who was a sinall-sized and ra- ther mild-looking individual, looked at the seem- ingly furious boy, and concluded it might be well not to meddle with such a bristling porcu- ine, 4 He had quite forgotten that he had taken up his young passenger’s ticket to Bloomington, and never dreamed that he bad no ticket to show. *T will put you off at Springfield, young man,” he said, ‘‘ That’s our next stop, and the rules of _ the road must be obeyed,” ‘All right. Springfield’s the capital of Llli- nois, isn’t it?” “ec Yes n” ‘*Then it’s bound to be brim full of lawyers, and it’s just the place to get in my work on this one-hoss railroad, Now 1 reckon you'll let me finish this murder case, and won’t come here stirring me up as if | was a pig in a puddle,” Frank turned again to his paper, while the smiles with which the other passengers had heard this colloquy now broke into a choras of laughter, The conductor looked helplessly at the impas- sive boy. Should he stop the train and put him off then and there? He would think of it, he concluded, and meanwhile went on punching the tickets of the remaining passengers, Frank con- tinued to read as demurely asif nothing had oc- curred. ‘* You're a bold boy,” said one of the passen- gers to him, after the conductor had left the car. * I'd as soon beard a lion in bis den as a conduc- tor on his train, These fellows are lords, you know, in their own domain,” “T don’t let no chap hit me withont hitting back,” averred Frank; ‘‘not if he’s as big asa rain-water-barrel. [reckon I pared that lion’s claws for him,” “‘T don’t know but you did,” answered the passenger, with a laugh, which was echoed from the neighboring seats, > ‘* These hustlers get mighty limp when a fel- low like mo takes the starch out of them,” con- tinued Frank, “‘I guess that one wants Jaun- drying again, to stiffen bim up.” ‘Give us your band, boy. By the Rocky Mountains, you're a sundowner!” cried the de- lighted passenger. ; ‘**1 dunno’bout that,” rejoined Frank, ‘‘ but the chap that tries to sit on me is going to feel pins—and straight ones, too.” Frank had made a chatty acquaintance, and during the rest of the journey to Springfield a lively conversation was kept up between tho two, On reaching the city of Springfield the train ‘ain came toa halt. It had not fully stopped when the conductor ae i Pw sir, there’s got to be an end to this “nonsense. You've got to show your ticket, or off you go.’ : , aoe so?” said Frank, rising and stretching if, ‘* Where are we, if I might ask?” “ At Springfield. And here you'll stop if you don’t show your ticket,” ee ee ee a Flipper Frank’s Flush: “Just the place I was going to stop at,” an- swered Frank easily. ‘‘ Much obliged for the ride.—Good-day, old man!” he said to his late acquaintance. ‘* Adieu, conductor! Aw re- voir,” Frank walked quietly from the car, ‘© What does au.revoir mean?” asked the con- ductor of a passenger. ‘* It’s the French for, ‘ till we meet again.’ ” ‘* Meet again! I hope to gracious I won’t soon meet that young impudence factory again! Glad I’m done with him this trip.” And the conductor ended with a groan that set all around him laughing. In twoor three minutes more the train was again swiftly in motion, Frank's late acquaint- ance locked from thecar window to catch a last glimpse of the boy, on the platform. ‘* Not there,” he said, ‘*He’s made tracks quick, Off to look up a Springfield lawyer, mayba, and make this old road howl, as he threatened. He’s just the coolest specimen of young America | ever put eyes on—and I'll go have a smoke on the strength of it.” Rising, the middle-aged and benevolent West- erner made his way through the train to the swmoking-car. Here he made a worm-fence back- ward over the swaying floor to an empty seat, and was about to drop into it, when Le halted and stared in surprise, Before him he saw the smiling face of his late acquaintance, Frank Melton, ** Hello, old man!” cried Frank, cheerily. “Squat down. Here’s room for one.” ‘What the thunder are you doing here? I thought you'd left.” **Came aboard again,” answered Frank, easi- ly. ‘I didn’t think I had to lay out a map of m plans for that conductor. If he don’t want me aboard, he can put me off at the next stop. Going to smoke?’ “That's what brung me.” ‘* Anchor here then, and we'll finish our chat.” ‘* That suits ine to a bair,” The Westerner lighted a cigar, and offered one t) Frank, ‘* Smoke?” he asked, ‘No. Ain’t learnt that trade yet. How far haye we come from Chicago?” ** Don’t know exactly. Near a couple of bun- dred miles.” “* Row far is it to St. Louis?” ‘** About a hundred more.” ‘*That’s all right, Get there some time before snoozing time.—A mighty fat country this we're passing through.” This set the Westerner off on a long story bout the agricultural advantages of Illinois, which lasted until the conductor again came through the train ata point about thirty miles beyond Springtield, ‘Show your tickets,” The passengers complied, and he made kis way slowly through the car, punching tickets as he went, tilli—he suddenly paused, with a look of astonishment and indignation, He had caught sight of his late troublesome passenger, ‘* You here?” he cried, savagely. “Yes. Told you we'd meet again, con- ductor.” “Didn't I put you off at Springfield?” “Not if the court knows itself. It’s my no- tion I got off.” Fae You said Springfield was your §destina- ion. ‘* So it was— for that ride. But I took a notion Td like to go further with you, Struck a sort of fancy to you.” y, ‘*The deuce you did!” growled the conductor “Your ticket, then.” ** Ticket?” ‘* Ves, ticket.” “*T baven’t any. Train didn’t stop long enough to get one.” ‘* Money, then.” ‘“ Havyen’t any. Left all my funds in Chi- cago.” ‘*'Then you've got to git off this train,” ‘That's what [| expect to do—when it stops, Ain’t going to risk a jump, nohow,” “Ts going to stop now, and here, I’m tired of this nonsense,” The conductor reached for the bell-rope, and pulled it fiercely. In a minute afterward the speed of the train had considerably slackened, Frank sat with an unmoved face, This action did not seem to disturb him in the least. “Have you really no ticket?’ asked his new friend. ‘* Nary pasteboard.” ‘* Nor money?” - ‘* Not enough to strike fire with. I left all my money at the hotel in Chicago, and started off too quick to get it,” i 5 mn ne a a ee crt ee ee 7 ‘¢Then, by the Rocky Mountains, I’ve had fan enough out of you to pay your way. t's the next stop, conductor?” ‘** Alton.” ‘Fare from Springfield?” The conductor told him, “All right, Dll pay this young man’s way.” ‘“ Why the blazes didn’t you say so sooner, then?’ The train bad nearly stopped. ‘I’ve half a mind to put him off as it is,” “‘ You can’t do it, conductor, and you know it, © You've got to take the money,” answered Frank, with provoking nonchalance, : The conductor in reply sprung up and jerked the bell-rope savagely, emitting a low growl. Immediately the train began to gather speed again, and was soon driving on at full head- way. The passenger paid Frank’s fare, and the con- ductor continued his rouné, : “Tm going to pay this back,” said Frank, ‘‘Give me your name and address, I’ve got plenty of money in Chicago, but started off so fresh that I left it behind me.” ‘*Never mind it, I’ve had my pay in fun.” “*Yos, I will mind it. I’m not working my way. nary time.” Alton was reached in dne time, and the train again came toa balt, Frank r se to leave the car. Py ‘*T thonght you were for St. Louis?” said his new friend, : “Solam, Ill get there, you bet.” ‘* Stay aboard, then. I'll pay the rest of the way. It’s only twenty-five miles,” ‘*No, I won’t sponge on good nature, You'll see me there.” ‘* Better stay.” **Can’t see it. Good-by. I'll send you that little remembrance,” “Never mind it. Good-by,” Frank got off. In a few minutes the teain was away egain, ** Gone this time, sure,” sai e conductor, as be made his last round th the train, ‘* e's left bebind at last.” ‘*T’'m not so certain of that,” answered Frank’s friend. ‘‘ He'd death at turning up. Have you looked on top the cars?” Where he should have looked was on the en- gine, on which Frank had jumped as the train started, and where he remained in spite of the engineer’: growl that no one had any business there. **Lawsee, you needn’t mind me,” answered Frank merrily. ‘] ain’t no more than a grass- hopper, and I can’t chirp loud enough to stop the train.” is And he rattled on in such a liy way that the engineer, tho was breaking the law o main. “Tf you put me off, lil finish my ride on the cow-catcher,” averred Frank. ‘‘I’m for Pile’s Peak, or bu’st. Lain’t got no money, old hoss, but Vi owe you a chromo for this ride,” ‘* How did you get this far without money?” “ Brass brought me through,” answered Frank, and he told the engineer the story of his adven-— ture with the conductor, much to that worthy’s delight, There was no longer any thought of putting him off. Frank paid his fare for the rest of the way by making things lively for the engineer and fireman, At length the station at St. Louis was reached. The boy sprung from the engine before its wheels had ceased turning. It was rather dark at that point, and none of the station-hands ob- served him, He burried: down the platform, and in a min- ute found himself face to face with the conduc- tor, who stared at him like one in a trance of 8 rise. ‘*Told you I'd get hero,” becried. ‘‘ ’mroyal pancakes at keeping my word. Good-by, old chap. Sorry I can’t go back with you.” Frank was away before the conductor could muster words to reply. The boy’s next encounter was with his train friend, who gazed at him with almost as much surprise as the conductor had shown. “Hello!” he exclaimed. ‘‘ You here?” “Always keep my word,” replied Frank. “I won't forget that little obligation.” ‘‘Never mind that; but, how did you get here?” ‘““Ask the engineer, Had a splendid ride be- hind the headlights, and— Good-by!” Frank darted away hastily. He had at that moment caught sight of Mr. Converse, who had just, left the cars and was hurrying through the station, =
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CHAPTER VII. DOWN TO SHORT RATIONS. FRANK had no difficulty in locating Mr. Con- verse in St, Louis, He followed him directly to the leading hotel of the city, where, as at Chi- cago, he registered under the name of Rowland | Hill, So far the young detective had smooth sailing; but, what was to come next? With but fifty cents in bis pocket, he could not | put up at that house, and his one source of diffi- culty was how he shouli live two days without coming to utter bankruptcy. He could not afford to telegraph to Chicago for his money. But he might write, He could possibly keep soul and Lody together long enough to get an answer to a letter, It was now well on into the night, but there was no time to lose, His letter must go out that night. Borrowing a sheet of paper, he wrote to the Chicago hotel proprietor the story of his sud- den journey to St, Louis, asking him to Express the money-packsege aod his gripsack at once, after taking out enough for his hotel bill. This letter duly written and posted, Frank felt easier in mind, Where should he jodge? In fact, be could not afford to lodge at all, unless he was to go hungry the next day. There were seats at the railway station, He could seem to be waiting fora train. That was a good idea, Frank hurried back to the station, eurled himself into a seat, and was svon fast asleep. 1t was considerably past midnight-when a station-keeper wakened bim. “‘ Come, sir; this is not.a sleeping-place, You must get up.” The boy, who had laid his plans in advance, got up and stretched himself lazily. “Guess it’s ’most time for tho train,” he awned, ** What train?” *¢ Alton accommodation,” ‘* Why, bless you, boy, it went an hour ago,” ‘The gracious you say! Why didn’t some- body wake me up?” “That ain t our line of business, is expected to be wide-awake here,” ‘Pm left, that’s all, Say, oli chap, when does the next train go out?” ‘* Four o’clock.” ‘‘ Then if I go to the hotel, I'll be left again. Guess I'll wait.” ‘* Don’t go to sleep this time.” “Go to sleep! What do you take me for? T bis ain’t a sleepy eye, is it?” The guard turned away with a laugh, while Frank once more coiled himself in his seat, and in five minutes was off in another snooze, from which he did not awake till six o’clock in the sr om, 5 Then he was roused by asharp shake from the guard. ‘* Well, Master Wide-awake, still.” ‘What o'clock?” asked eyes vigorously. : * Past six.” aie don’t mean to say I’ve lost the train ain ** Tt looks that way,” laughed the guard. ‘*That’s what comes of night travel. Got to take a daylight tripafter all, Guess I'll gorake vpaluneh, You bet I’ll be wide-awake when I come round here again.” He was hungry enough to spend all his funds in one grand feast, But that would never do. He invested five cents in rolls at a baker’s shop, and made a dry meal at a very low figure. If he could go on at the same rate bis funds would carry hiin through two or three days, Frank spent that day on the track of Mr, . Gonverse, Not a step outside the hotel was - taken by that individual but what the young ferret was sharply after him, though the boy’s bc, work brought him little return. be only thing he could note down at night was—Converse had stopped at a large wholesale oF goods house, and spent two hours in the private office, in close conference with the pro- prietor. What took place there, he was, of course, in orance of, but the affair interested him. It was a step in the business that had brought this ‘tricky personage to St. Louis, Frank bad told the Chicago hotel proprietor to direct bis answer to the St, Louis hotel where Converse was stopping. He inquired of the clerk at six o’clock that evening, -* Are you a guest here?” asked the clerk. ‘‘No, sir; but I wrote from here.” ‘| havea letter just in for that name. But how om I to know that you are the right party? Everybody here you are . Frank, rubbing his | had now in tow. | Flipper Frank’s Flush. ‘“‘T can’t say, except you take me on my face, | Frank Melton’s my name, and what I wrote for was some money i Jeft bebind me in Chicago, You can open the letter if you want to, and if it isn’t about that, then I’m a fraud.” ** Where did you leave it?” ‘* At the St, Claude Hotel.” “ Allright, This is for you, then.” He banded Frank a letter, which the boy eagerly opened and read hastily. As he did 80 his face fell. ‘* Bad news?” asked the clerk. ‘‘ Read that. He won’t send it, Says he don’t know if I’m the right party. Whatam I | to du?” ‘Trot back to Chicago, I fancy, and show your face there,” ‘‘T reckon itll be a trot, then. Haven't fifty cents to my name,” The clerk looked him over with eyes of ex- perience, ‘You wear a watch, boy. worth?” ‘* About a fifty, I reckon,” said Frank, draw- ing it out. ‘‘Then go see your uncle, twenty on it.” ‘“ Bang my thick skull, why didn’t I think of | that myself? Much obliged, mister, I ain't up : to pawning watches or I’d knowed that. Good- What is it He'll lend you a Frank was away with a new idea in his bead. But it didu’t stay there long. He had been put }on the track of Jacob P. Converse. What | might become of his quest if he left the trail for a trip to Chicago and back? He halted, in deep cogitation. There was Dick Wister; why not telegraph him for money? It was a fertile idea, Frank resolved to do it the next morning. 1t was too late to wire Dick at his office that night, The boy, who bad now but twenty-five cents left, spent that night as he had the night before, butin a different station, At an early business hour of the next day he put his watch in pawn, as tis clerk had suggested, receiving fifteen dol- lars, which was the most the careful pawnbroker could see in it. Frank celebrated his victory immediately by a good breakfast. Ho then sought the tele- graph office, and sent Dick Wister the following message: ‘Dead broke, Sena me some money.” It was two hours before the following answer caine; ‘‘The deuce you are! Four hundred dollars ina week! Do you think we sleep here on gold mines? Explain.” ‘‘ Left it at hotel in Chicago. Daren’t leave ' here to go after it,” wired Frank in repl ye ** You fous scapegrace!” was Dick’s answer. | ‘¢ 11] sea Borden, but I don’t believe he'll pony up. The squeeze is too tight.” ; Frank left the office in a fret, Dick’ might have trasted bim, and sent him some out of his own pocket. And yet, he said to himself, that wasn’t Dick Wister’s way. He had the fashion of bolding on to his dollars. What was to be done? Mr, Borden was not likely to band out money at such a rate. Should he go to Chicage?—what, and leave Con- verse unwatched? No, not if he had to lanch on his sleeve-buttons and sleep in an ash- barrel, Frank’s watchfulness that day yielded no re- sults, other than that he saw Converse again enter the merchant’s office, remain there a few minutes, and come out in his company. Tbey walked togétber down the street for a block or two, avd then separated, It was a prosperous-looking gentleman whom Converse That was all the boy learned, Several days passed with no further points gained. Then the young detective dropped on something of more importance. He met Con- verse near the Chicago and Alton station, and with him his Chicago acquaintance, who bad evidently just scotvade They were in earnest conversation, and the curious boy pushed up close bebind them, as once before, They talked in their usual tones, and he had no difficulty in following their words, ‘*T shall probably be here for seyeral days longer,” remarked Converse. ‘‘Then I must strike for New Orleans and see Brown.” “The plant is working satisfactorily, you ‘say?’ a Splendidly; that’s the word I got yesterday from the works. I have not had a chance to get there myself, but, as sure as you live, our top- price for the metal will be ten cents a pound, nO EA DLR ESO APRON key. 2 BN 2" Ue TR RE : PS aT ES a8! SEY SORE SA EN ROT) BS aE rh lt ei RC SE 0 SL AES bate o Maybe not over five, ney to put in it, that’s all.” ‘* How much can you and Wilson raise?” ** Not over fifty thousand, I fear.” ‘* So far as I’m concerned,” answered the other, ‘©1] pot puta red penny in till I see it’s work- ing and am satisfied. Tnat’s my way. If your words turn out worth their face value, I won’t hesitate to invest a cool hundred thousand.” ‘* That’s business, friend Jobnson, [like you for it. The plant will be in good working order about the end of March. Then I shall expect all of you gentlemen at—” Frank unfortunately lost the last word, The name of the place where this mysterious “* plant” was to be seen remained unknown to him. ‘‘ By the way,do you know Gordon?” asked Converse. ‘\No, Never saw him,” ‘Then you must. As you are likely to sail in the same boat, you should be friends in ad- vance, And here’s his store now. Come in. l’)i introduce you, and we can chat over the en- terprise,” It was the store within which Converse had bad so much business during the past few days that they now entered. Frank stood outside, in doubt whether he had better wait for them or not, Ha finally con- cluded that there was nothing to be gained by this, There was matter of more importance to consider, He had heard that morning from Dick Wister by wire, saying tuat Borden had refused to ad- vance any more. He would send him on his own account twenty dollars ina registered let- ter, which was ali he could spare. “ That’s very generous in Dick,” growled the hoy. ‘But, maybe he don’t quite believe me, I did piay the fool act, that’s sure, Converse says he'll be here several days yet. That’ll give me plenty time for a run to Chicago, Here goes,” He had made up his mind on ths jump, and sought the railroad station in the same prompt manner, Here he was informed that the next Express for Coicago would not go out till ten o'clock that evening. ‘s And it’s not four yet,” thought the boy. ‘Well, I don’t need to be so blazing mean now, and I jadge I’! go order a prime-up old supper. I’m hungry ali the way down,” At ten that evening he stepped aboard the train with more assurance than on the former oceasion, for he had a through sleeping-car ticket in his pocket, and was a few dollars still on the right side of poverty. Before daybreak the next morning he landed in Chicago. An abundant breakfast at the sta- tion restaurant braced him up for the busiuess of the day, and at eight o’clock sharp he made his appearance in the hotel. **Do'you recognize me?” he asked the clerk. ‘‘Tveseen your face before,” was the doubtful answer. ‘* And wanted to see it again; for you’ve made me run back here from St. Louis to show i‘ How 7 ‘* Here’s your letter. That will show.” The clerk looked at the letter; then at Frank; and then laughed, ‘*¥t was business, young man. There was too much cash to take chanceson. Somebody might bavestolen your secretand your name, I know you now, and it is all right, Here is your package.” “All correct,” answered Frank, cheerily, after counting the money. ‘* What’s your divvy? Let’s see the size of your bill.” _-_—_o CHAPTER VIII. FROM CHICAGO TO NEW ORLEANS, . Wita a pocket full of money and a heart fuly of satisfaction, Frank Melton spent tue remain- der of that day in taking a general survey oy Chicago. He bad abundant time, be thought, and might never have the chance again, __ Express for St. Louis, and once more rolled ou over the prairie level of Illinois, : _ He was busily engaged in reading the morn- ing paper when the conductor came round to official with whom Frank bad had his previous adventure, boyish face before him, the conductor stopped in surprise and anger. “You here again?” he exclaimed, ‘* How d’ye do?” asked Frauk, ing!” < : I'd like to have more. Early the next morning he mounted the Day punch tickets, It was the same high-minded On seeing the quiet smile that lighted up the © “ Fine morn- ;
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pies ~~. a ae ' a Flipper Frank’s Flush. Se a a AE Lt *\ A fine one for a tramp,” answered the con- ductor, wrathfully, as he gave a violent pull at the bell-rope, * Ab! going to take a tramp?” asked Frank, innocently. **No; but you are,” The train slackened speed, and within a mia- ute or two came to a halt. “Now, Master Impudence, you'll get off,” ** Master who?” ** Tmpudence,” **T don’t know any chap of that name,” said Frank, turning to his paper. “Come here!” called the conductor to the brakeman. ‘“ Here’s a fellow trying to beat the road, We've got to fire bim.” **See here, Mr. Emperor!” remarked Frank; **spose you just quit barking at the moon, and come down to terry firmy. Look at that, and lay a finger on meif you dare!” He beld his ticket under the conductor’s nose, That gentleman fell back a step, in surprise and chagrin, *“ Why didn’t you show me that before?” he demanded, clutching desperately at the bell- rope. : ‘ You never asked me for it.” **T did.” ‘* See here, gentlemen,” Frank appealed to the surrounding passengers. ‘‘ Did any of you hear him ask me?” ** No!” was the general answer. **Now punch that ticket,” demanded Frank, sternly. ‘‘ And don’t you tap me like you did tother day, or I'll punch your head.” ‘* None of your impertinence, boy.” ** And none of your crowding. You're a good deal too previous. Why, I've got money enough to buy up your old road—if I wanted it, But LT ain’t investing in no such slow hosses,” ‘Frank turned again to his paper; and the conductor, swallowing his rage, resumed his rounds, after signaling the engineer to start up again. He recognized that he bad been too hasty, and that the boy had the best of the ame. : The young traveler had no more difficulty with his foe, who contented himself during the remainder of the journe with growling de- mands of ‘* Ticket,” to each of which Frank re- sponded with a seraphic smile, and a show of his pasteboard, In due time the train drew into the station at St. Louis, and the youthful detective once again trod the soil of Missouri. The day was now well advanced, and he was hungry enough for two of his size, having eaten only a sandwich on his journey. His first errand, then, was to a restaurant, where he obtained a plentiful meal... His next ‘was to the pawnbroker’s, where he redeemed his watch, His third was to the post-office, where he found Dick Wister’s registered letter awaiting him, His fourth was to the hotel, where he looked carefully round him for Mr. Converse, No trace of that individual was to be seen however. frank grew a little uneasy, Could he have left? On all previous evenings he had found him in the smoking-room, “Mr. Rowland Hill?” said the clerk, in re- sponse to Frank’s question. ‘‘ Left to-day.” “Left” “Yes, Six hoursago. Is on his way down the river. ‘Took steamer Alabama for New Orleans,’ ‘*The thunder!” cried Frank, ‘ Left, as ’ma sinner!” ‘* Want to see him bad?” queried the clerk, “* Mighty bad.” ‘“‘Chase him, then. The St. Clair steams out at6o’clock. It isa faster boat than the Ala- bama. You'll touch wharf at New Orleans first, if you don’t overhaul him before, Or you can B40) by rail, if you prefer.” < A steamboat ride down the Mississippi!” ‘* Don’t say rail to Good- cried Frank in enthusiasm. me! I wouldu’t miss it for ten railroads. by! Much obliged.” It was now four o’clock. Before six Frank had secured a state-room on the large and hand- some steamer St. Clair, placed his baggage in his berth, and was seated on the saloon-deck, waiting to see the boat pull ont. Saji Day was just breaking when he woke next morning, Hastily dressing, he sought the deck of the boat, and stood by the forward rails, earnestly watching the scene revealed to his eyes, Down the mighty river the boat drove in swift career, its doubled by the rapid current, while the low lands on either side scem- to glide in an upward flow as the steam- er rapidly downward. oung passenger soon got tired of looking i at the unwooded and monotonous banks, and turned his ‘attention to the boat on which he stood, The broad deck was thickly covered with merchandise in the greatest variety, while around him, enjoying the morning air, stood dozens of passengers, bound for various river orts, f One of these soon attracted his special atten- tion. He stared at him a moment, and then sprung cheerily forward. ‘* Hello, old man!” he cried. for your ten fingers,” He held out his hand. The man addressed turned, stared, and then clutched Frank’s hand. It was his railroad ac- quaintance! ‘Glad to see you,” he exclaimed, ‘“‘ Ain’t ee to beat the boat as you did the road, eh! **Not much!” Frank laughed. “Got the ducats now, By the way, here’s your little provender,” ‘Ob, never mind that,’ said the Westerner, as Frank drew.out a well-filled pocket-book. ‘Yes, I will! Short accounts make long friends, I came over the road again yesterday, old man, and you ought to have been along. 1 took every speck of starch out of that conductor, and left him just the limpest individual you ever seen, He told the story of his late encounter, at which Mr, Palmer, bis listener, almost doubled himself with laughter. ‘* How old are you?” he asked. ** Somewhere over eighteen.” ** By the Rocky Mountains, you’re an old trav- eler, if you area young man! I’m turned fifty- eight, and I couldn’t have done it.” he two sought the saloon deck and seated themselves for a comfortable talk. Meanwhile, the boat sped rapidly on its course, plunging through the mighty waters, and unfolding an endless panorama of farming and meadow-lands on either side, ‘*Do you know the Alabama?” asked Frank, ‘Yes, I just missed taking it.” ‘““Why? We'll get to New Orleans first,” ‘*Not much! The Alabama’s a faster boat than this!” “Then that hotel clerk lied, for he told me the St, Clair was the best boat on the river.” ‘Got stock in it, maybe,” answered Palmer, Nene cigar. ‘* Smoke?” e oO ** Here’s room Frank fell iuto a momentary train of thought. Was he destined to be beaten after all? Had he better leave the boat at some river town, and |_ take the train? But he had bought a through ticket; and he wanted to see the river, His moment’s r¢flec- tion ended in a resolve to stick to the boat and trust to luck for the future. He felt sure of finding Converse at some New Orleans hotel, **T get off at Memphis,” remarked Mr, Palm- er, after smoking for some minutes in silence, **Glad of your company for so far, What are you interested in the Alabama for?” : ““There’s a man aboard her whom I want to beat to New Orleans.” “Ab! arace, hey? Who is it?” ** He calls himself Rowland Hill.” ‘* The deuce he does!” Mr, Palmer started as if his cigar had burned him, ‘‘ What do you know about bim?” His voice was sharply inquisitive, Frank grew suddenly cautious. have been talking too fast. “Got a little bet with him, that’s all,” he said, indifferently. ‘* Friend of yours, Mr. Palmer?” **That’s more than I cansay. A business ac- quaintance isu better word. I’m to meet him ut Louisville at the end of March in a little busi- ness deal,” ‘* What is it?” asked Frank, “Business is business, my boy. I can't let out other men’s secrets, All I’ll say is that if Rowland Hiil’s plans ‘pan out well, more than one man will be rich; and I'll be one of them,” ** Something about metal?’ ‘* You know of it, then? Mave you ever seen aluminum, the new metal?” “ Don’t know as I have,” ‘Tt is extracted from clay, Costs nothing for material. All the cost is in getting it out, and that’s mighty expensive, But there’sa big He might market for it now at fifty cents a pound, for it’s a very useful metal. Suppose it could be made at five or ten cents a pound,” “Somebody would get rich,” answered Frank. ‘ “That's what I think,” rejoined Palmer. This was the end of the Westerner’s revela- | tions, Frank was afraid to say more, though he | believed in his secret soul that Converse was | working up a plot to victimize a number of rich Western merchants. Palmer also had nothing further to say on the subject, Yet his few words had taught much | to the quick-witted boy. Louisville was the | place, the end of March the time, and a plant | for making cheap aluminum the means. But how was the game to be worked? that was the next thing to learn. And what had Clarkson, the Artful Dodger, to do with it? That afternoon Frank wrote along letter to Dick Wister, telling him the story of his jour- ney, and what he had learned. He bade him try and get a free foot to come West in late March, This letter he dropped in the mail-box of the boat. We cannot dwell longer on Frank’s Mississippi experience, It was a new and fertile one, and he never wearied of watching the great river, or its ever-changing banks; now low, now rising into great bluffs; now bare, now densely wood- ed; now deserted, now with groups of houses; now bustling villages, now busy cities, lining the way. : Palmer left at Memphis, as he had said. Frank, who bad taken a fancy to bim, bade him a hearty good-by. “By the way,” he said, ‘*I will be up the river myself in a week or two, and may stop at Louisville. When do you expect to be there?” ** March 20th, or thereabouts.” With a pocket full of five-cent aluminum, eh? “Tf T had, I wouldn’t trade it for gold.” ‘*Good-by; then. If I’ get there i’li look for you. League after league they plunged along their watery way, the weather growing warmer as they reached a more southern latitude. It was like a May-day in the North when, on a day in early March, the St. Clair rounded up to her wharf in New Orleans, pushing her sbarp nose in between two other great steamers, She bad passed many a boat on the way, but no one on board had set eye on the Alabama. Could it have been passed in the night? Frank soon settled this question by asking a wharf offi- cial, ‘‘ Alabama? Three blocksabove. seven this morning, ten hours ago.” ‘*Dished again,” said the boy to bimself, ** But, I’!l find him, if he’s hid in one of General Jackson’s cotton-bules.” Come in at CHAPTER ix, A RAT IN A TRAP, A WEEK has passed since Frank Melton land- ed in New Orleans. During that week he has investigated the city thoroughly in a vain ef- fort to find the lost object of his journey, He has called at every hotel, large ~nd small, but none of Converse’s known names are on their registers, nor bas he been able to ha glimpse of the well-known form, though he has hung hike a shadow for hours around the doors of the leading hotels, He has traverséd the city from end to end, tracing the winding and-sleepy streets of the French quarter, with their wealth of flowers and tropical foliage; and the straight and wide- awake streets of the English quarter, with their business bustle, He has tramped on foot from the site of General Jackson’s cotton-bale barri- cades on the south to the park-like world’s fair grounds on the north. He has followed the line of the great river from end to end of the city. Yet, among the multitudes of faces that have met his eyes, none resembling that of Jacob P, Converse has been visible. Though the month was March, it felt like a June day of the North, when the boy stopped, weary and disgusted, and leaned ee a sturdy tree-trunk, while his eyes dwelt lazily on @ verdant group of orange trees in a broad gar- den before him, ‘‘He wouldn’t have come all the way down here to turn on his heels and peg out again the very next day,” he cogitated. * But, if he’s here, where is he? That’s the little conundrum !'d like somebody to answer.’ Not in a hotel, that’s sure, I won't give up ye though. New Orleans is a big spread, andl might have passed within a block of him twenty — times without seeing him, Maybe it’d be best for me to anchor somewhere and wait. Who round past me?” - With this new idea in his head he continued to lean against the tree, his eyes fixed dreamily upon the glossy foliage of the orange while a vision of tropical luxuriance through his youthful fancy. knows but the tide of travel might sweep him a ee
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*y oe 4 Oh ERT SE TR MERE, op te ‘> + € > wr" ts ee ee we Py iF ta Se ek) at MERE t's IO a? " yA “<DWORER! srt ag eRe a = - Bwered ar ais hr Sa a £ 10 In that mood he was in no frame of mind to observe the iid J tide of life, and numbers of people passed him unseen by his heedless eyes. TNot until half an hour and more had elapsed was he calied to a wide-awake sense of the situ- ation, and this by a voice that addressed him in much surprise, ‘* Ha, young fellow! how in the world did you get here? And what are you doing in New Orleans?” : Frank looked quickly up. There, before him, stood the form of the man for whom he had been so long looking—Jacob P. Converse! He was gazing on him with a look cf astonish- ment, ** Aren’t you the same young hero who plung- ed into the hotel fire in New York and saved my box for me? Of course you are; I don’t for- get faces easily, and yours is not a common one. While these words were being spoken, Frank’s brain had been busily working. His first im- pulse was to deny his identity, and claim to be on his native soi], But the last words of the speaker caused him to change his mind, If he did not want to raise suspicion, and perhaps defeat his purpoze, he bad best face the music, ** Are you the gentleman?” he asked, witha well-acted show of surprise. ‘' Yes, I know you now. ButI did not expect to meet you here,” ** Nor I you.” ‘* Oh, we have moved here, Came away from New York right after that fire. Going to live here, Mr. Converse?” 3s Oh, no! I’m only on some business, But it did give meastart to see you. The world’s a narrow one, after all.” ‘*T should think so,” spoke a quiet voice near him. ‘‘ Are you just finding that out, friend Hill?” Frank, with a sudden impulse, turned his face away from this new speaker and looked iatentiy down the street. He did go with a purpose. He wished to gain control of his features. In fact, it was only by great command of himself that he kept from a sharp start of surprise—for the voice he heard was the well-reamembered one of John P. Clarkson, the Artful Dodger! Some further words passed between the two: men, while Frank was repressing the signs of delight and surprise which marked bis face at this important discovery, and trying to lay out a plan of action, There was no use trying to get away. He must face the music, and trust to luck that Clarkson would not recognize him, After a yang he turned and looked him full in the ‘ace, Yes, there was that same smooth, good-looking end benevolent countenance he had known so well a year before. The man before him was undoubtedly the Artful Dodger with whom he had much to do in his early detective life, and who was just then badly wanted by the authorities of New York. Clarkson looked at the boy with no sign of recognition on his quiet face. . **You know this young gentleman, Hill?” he asked, ‘“T should think so. He did me a valuable gervice last month.” ; Mr. Converse told, in few words, the story of . the fire and of Frank’s heroic act. ‘* By my honor, a brave lad!” ejaculated Clarkson, heartily. ‘‘Give me your hand, boy. I like to hear of courage like that.” ** Mercy, it wasn’t nothing to brag of,” an- rank, diffidently, extending his hand with some reluctance, ** Don’t thé merit of your deed by over- modesty, my lad,” replied Clarkson, shaking his hand heartily. ‘‘ By the wes Hill, you ought to have rewarded this brave ellow well for such an act.” ‘Reward him! He would not listen to the word!” answered Converse, ‘* There are some things people do for money; some that can’t be paid for with money,” re- joined Frank, modestly, ‘Very true. Very well put. Are you en- ed in business, my modest lad?” “No; | am looking for a situation.” “Then, by my honor, you shall bave one! Say, Hill, we want an intelligent youth, and I fancy this is just the one we need. There are letters to deliver, messages, and so on, Will you engage with us, young man? We will give you six dollars a week for a start?” “ Make it eight, and I'll take it,” “* Kigbt—eight—that’s steep. I don’t know if you'll be worth it to us, bat say you, Hill? ball we try bim one week at that rate?” _ | @ meaning. laugh. Flipper Frank’s Flush. “As you please, Mr. Wilson; I leave it with you. ** Come with us, then. We'll give you a week’s trial.— W hat’s your name?” oe ** Joe, they call me at home,” *“Wery well, A week’s trial, mina,” ** All right, said Frank, ‘‘I’m not afraid but T'll suit you.’ He had been thinking earnestly during the last few minutes, Did Clarkson know him? There was not the least sign in his face or manner that he did. To all appearance he was honest in his wish for a messenger boy, But, Frank was not quite at ease in his mind. Converse had displayed a passing show of sur- prise at his friend's suggestion. The boy knew well that be had two deep rogues to deal with, and that he must not take appearances for facts. But there seemed here such a promise of oppor- tunity to penetrate the designs of these villains that he could not hesitate, Had he been offered a dollar a week be would have accepted, The three new friends walked away—Hill and Wilson, as the two men had named themselves, and Joe, as the boy had chosen to designate him- self, He could not venture to trust his real name in Clarkson's hearing. They had not farto go. In fact, Frank had unwittingly stopped within a few steps of their place of abode, They made their way to the house adjoining the garden into which he had been gazing, cpened the door, and entered, ask- ing him to foliow. t was a roomy mansion in which he now found himse]f, with a broad center hall, and ranges of wide apartments on either side. The furniture was not abundant, but was tastefully chosen, and was cool and comfortable, as befitted the climate. It seemed like the residence of a gentleman of considerable wealth and of good taste, ‘* This. way, Joe,” said Clarkson, ascending the broad flight cf stairs that opened upon the hall, He led the way up tbere, and then up a sec- ond flight, to the upper fi or of the mansion, ‘*This will be your room, my lad,” As he spoke he opened the door of a small apartment, and led tie way in. ‘*Where are you living now?” Frank named a street on the other side of the city. “ Well, you will not want to go home,” ** But I must; to report and get my clothes,” “You néed not; just now, at any rate, We will want you to-day. Make yourself at home here.” He stepped from the room, with his most bene- volent smile, closed the door quietly behind him, and—the boy’s quick ears heard tbe click of the lock! He was locked in! Startied at this, he socked hastily about him. Had Clarkson Enown him and been playing on him? Was he caught like a ratina trap? His eyesran over the room, taking in all its details at a glance. Yet in effect he saw only ono thing, This was a second door, on the opposite side of the room, It was closed, but the key stood in the lock. It took but a second for him to spring to it, try the latch and find it to be locked, and draw out the key, which he thrust under the mattress of the cot on the opposite s'de of the room. Hardly bad he done so, when the entrance door was again opened and Clarkson stepped in, Converse remaining in the doorway, Without a word Clarkson walked across the room and tried the opposite door. ‘Locked,’ he said, with an air of satirfac- tion. ‘*That’s good. I was afraid some one might disturb you.” ‘’ But—” Frank’s voice seemed to quaver. “ But—didn’t you lock that door? What was that for?” ** One door is locked to keep anybody from disturbing you; the other, to keep you from dis- turbing anybody else,” answered Clarkson, with = Good-day, Joe! We'll come for you whea we want you.” . He slipped out as he spoke, and again locked the door behind him. “Will you?’ said Frank, quietly, to himself. “The Artful Dodger’s a mighty good name for you, Mr. Clarkson, but I’m not bad on the dodge myself, and if I ain’t the bulge on you this time there’s no use ta ing. Here’s the right bower, and the game's mine.’ o drew the key from under the mattress, and waved it in the air triumpbantly, Meanwhile the two men had descended to the second floor, and entered a room there, ** Now,” said Converse, “I'd like an explana- tion. What does this move mean?” ‘It means that we were very near being put | geste ss peiteeisenapemmneeieameain ae — in a hole, my friend,” answered Ciarkson, quiet- ly. ‘*That boy walked into my trap. If he badn’t, our cake might have been all dough!” ‘* Explain yourself, I don’t understand,” “It is just this: that young hound, whom you last saw in New York, and whom you found to-day with his eyes on this nouse, isn’t the saint he seems to be, but one cf the liveliest little imps out of Satan’s dominions. He has followed you here from New York, and would have run you to earth, if I had not stepped in.” **T really don’t see—” ‘* You shall, then, The boy is a protégé of one of the keenest of the New York detectives, and is assharp as his master, I knew him at sight, though I played off on him successfully. It was he that ran me down last year, and if I'd gone to prison I'd had him to thank for it. It’s my turn now. I’ve got the young rat in limbo, There he'll stay tiil we end this job. After it?s done I don’t know but Pll make an end of himfvr good and all. We'ro not safe while that boy is above ground.” : There was a dangerous look on Clarkson’s face as he spoke. CHAPTER X. ‘THE PROWLING OF A CAT, A WEEK passed away during which Frank Melton continued, to all seeming, a close pris- over in the room into which the Artful Dodger had so artfully led him, Daily, at proper inter- vals, a surly-faced colored individual brought him very spare and frugal meals. It seemed as if, for purposes of their own, bis captors wished to keep him on very short rations, As for Clarkson and Converse, they never came near him; nor, at the end of the week, did the eight dollars contracted for make its appear- ance, As for the messages and letters he was to deliver, he heard no more cf them, The negro who waited on him was a silent fellow, of a brutal cast cf countenance. Frank did not fail to question him, with a show of dis- tress and indignation, but failed to get a word of answer. The negro would deposit his food on the table, and leave the room as silently as if he was deaf and dumb, But, sharp as'were his jailers, they were not as sharp as their prisoner. His possession of the key to the rear decor of his prison gave Frank fuli cofmmand of the situation, As for the dry and coarse focd that wus brought him be made only a pretense of eating it—thrustin the most of it under his bed. He had toand his way to the pantry, and every night ended his daily fast by a pientiful feast from its con- tents, In fact,"long before the end of the week, Frank knew that mausion es thoroughly as if he were itsowuer, He had traversed it by day and by night, with the quiet step of a cat and the cunning of a fox, now biding from some approsching step, now venturing boldly onward, tillte had been in its every room without being seen by an inmate, This couid not bave been easily dons had there been many people in the house. But he soon learned that, besides his two enemies, who were absent most of the time, the only others in the house were his surly keeper, and a colored cook in the kitchen. He, therefore, had no great trouble in dving his spying and foraging un- ceen, It was his game, however, to remain a _pris- oner, The pair of rogues fancied they had him | safe, and if was well to keep them in that idea. If they should once suspect him they might take danzerous precautions, Yet Prank was ina quandary. What did it allmean? What were they doing bere? How came they in possession of this mansion? What was the next step on their, programme? All this be asked himeelf, but with no answer, ‘Playing rat in a hole is a mighty pretty game, where there’s good nibbling,” he muttered discontentedly. ‘‘ But it begins to look to me as if I’m wasting my time, thought I’d hear them let out some secrets, but I haven’t. I'd not stay here a day longer only I want to keep their optics shut,” He became silent, and sat in reflection for some minutes, **l’'ve a notion they’re eating for something or somebody, and I’d like to know what,” he resumed, ‘It’s getting near the time they set to make tracks for Louisville. What's at the bottom of it, anyhow? Guess I'll take another stroll. Mr, Midnight brought me my grub an hour ago. He won’t be here again these six hours,” ; It took him but a minute to find the key in its hiding place, unlock the door, and slip out from en, Ae . ay a
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4 pia es 2h ae Re reer es as room. He locked the door carefully bebind im. He now found himself in a short entry, which led to a platform at the head of a flight of back stairs, Listening a moment, and hearing no sound, heslipped down these. He knew his way thoroughly, having traversed these stairs often before. Ina minuteor /o he was on the lower floor of the mansion, in a small room adjoining the kitchen, His last steps had been taken with great cau- tion, for he heard voices near him, The tone and accent of these he recognized. The two colored servants were having a chat in the kitchen. Frank’s first impulse was toturn away. He had listened to them before and heard nothing of value. But he told himself that a true detec- tive neglects no opportunity, and stole nearer to learn the subject of their conversation. ** For de Lawd!” came to bim in the rich tones of the cook, “‘I don’t make it out, nohow. Things does disappear, amazin’. Why, bress your soul, a whole pie went last night, an’ mose a panful o’ sweet cakes, I’d think it was you, Pomp, for a fac’, on’y you do fill up so amazin’ at supper.” ‘*T neber eat pies, and you know it, Lidy,” came in the hoarse tones of the man. ‘“‘ It’s jiss rats, dat’s what.” ‘*See yere, Pomp. S’pose you put two pies togedder, d’ye think rats ’d eat one and not | touch t/oder? It’s two-legged rats, sure’s you lib! Tell yer what, I’ve mose a mind to physic somethin’ thar, an’ catch dat t’ief.” ‘* Mighty good, Lidy,” cried Pomp, with a hoarse laugh. ‘‘ Dose it heavy, ole woman. ro if don’t see how anybody kin git thar, raiy.2 ‘No more do I,” answered the woman, ‘* Nobody’d think gemmen ’d do sich low-down work. But them two men as massa’s guv the key of the house to—” ‘You don’t s’pect dem, Lidy?” ““Who'else am I to s’pect, tell me?” asked Lidy. ‘‘Who am dem men, anyhow, and what’s dey arter here?” “T jedge Marse Brown knows dat,” answered theman. ‘If he wanted you an’ me ter know, he’d told us, Tell you dis, old woman, he’s a-comin’ back to-day.” . ** Marse Brown?” **Sure’s youlib! I jis’ got word.” **Glad he is, ’kaze I’m tired o’ cookin’ fur dem no-'count Yankeos.” ** Fusb!—Dat’s’em now, shore,” This warning was given on account of the sound of an opening door in the front part of the house. It was followed by steps and voices. 3 “It’s dem; and Marse Brown wid ’em, sar- tain,” averred Pomp, ** Den I’s glad ob it,” answered Lidy. ‘‘ Dem men don’t ’preciate good cookin’; an’ I r’a’ly b’lieve it’s dem dat’s been ransackin’ de pan- tr id The real rat who had robbed the pantry was ‘gliding away as she spoke, making up his mind as he did 80 not to disturb it for a night or two. He had no fancy to try Aunt Lidy’s Sey hysic.” He had something else in view. The pro- prietor of the mansion had returned, in com- pany with the two sharpers, Possibly an im- portant conference was about to be held. If so, Frank was bound to be a listener, if pos- sible. As he glided with a catlike step up the rear stairway, he heard the three men somewhat noisily ascend the front one, talking in loud voices as they did so. This suited Sis ideas, He would be less likely to be discovered by the pert on the second than on the first oor. From the door of a room into which he glided, the young spy Observed them step from the stairway into the upper hall, and advance toward a room looking upon the street. Two of them he recognized at sight as Converse and Clarkson. The third was a tall, well-built man, who walked with a heavy tread, They entered the room and closed the door be- hind them, They had hardly done so before Frank glided hastily forward, He knew thoroughly what he was about.: He | had not investigated the house for nothing. There was a rear room bebind that which they had entered, with a communicating door. Into this Frank slipped noiselessly, To his - satisfaction, the door hetween the two rooms stood slightly ajar, and the men were talking so loudly that he heard every word they spoke, _ There was a closet in the wall near the door. _ Into this he glided, as a hiding-place in case the ‘Clarkson. Flipper Frank’s Flush. room should be invaded—leaving the door an inch or two open, ‘Johnson and Gordon want twenty-five per cent. of the shares each,” came to him in Clark- son’s voice. ‘* They are so sure it isa good thing that they are eager to put up the cash.” ‘*Have you promised them?” asked a strange voice--doubtless that of Mr. Brown, ‘Promised them? no! No single party can have more than twenty. Hill and I haven’t the funds to hold what we'd like, but we'll not be satisfied with less than twenty.” ‘* You are sure—” began Mr, Brown, ‘Sure?’ interrupted Converse. ‘' You have only to read this letter from our agent, The last firing, be says, yielded two pounds of pure aluminum to the batch, which he cousiders a clear ninety-five per cent. of all the metal pres- ent. Sure? Why, sir, I wouldn’t exchange my interest for a gold-mine.” The rustle of paper followed, as if Mr, Brown was reading the letter. ‘That sounds promising, I admit,” be remark- ed, ‘‘I tell you, gentlemen, I feel like going in with you. I have raised the funds, so there’s no trouble about them, But, I must be sure. It is too big a thing—” ‘You shall be sure before the week ends,” broke in Clarkson. ‘‘ We start to-morrow—if that suits you.” “That willanswer. I have nothing to detain me here,” Fravk’s greedy ears drank in all this, He had left the closet and advanced step by step to the door of the apartment, fearing to lose a word of the conversation—»but notbing more of impor- tance came to his ears, The three men continued to talk, but only on technical points connected with the new process of manufacturing aluminum, In the end Mr. Brown rose, saying: ‘“‘Twenty per cent. of the shares is your limit, then?” ‘‘it woulin’t be ten, if we had the funds to carry more,” answered Clarkson, ‘“‘ But we've got to have the cash for a large developing plant,” “T may take twenty, if I am satisfied,” re- joined Mr, Brown, ‘' Now, gentlemen, I have some orders for my servants. Help yourselves = cigars, You'll find some good ones in that Ox. He rose and left the room, The confederates remained silent for a minute after he had gone. Then Converse broke into a low laugh. ‘* He bites deep!” he said, “ Into a Dead Sea apple,” was the answer. ‘* Next week—” began Converse, ‘* Next week the pit will develop,” laughed “But not in the way they fancy. This is play, Jack. Work is about to begin.” “You are not nervous about it?” **Nervous?—I have no nerves. It is a critical job, but, with our precautions it must suc- ceed,” ** And these dupes be bled. thing more. That boy—” ** Brown will not discover him, Henever sets foot on the third floor of the building. I tell you, Jack, Iam afraid of that boy. He must go un- der, That black fellow will do anything for money, Itis but a pinch of white powder in his food, and—” ’ ‘You would not kill him?’ broke in Con- verse, ‘“No. But if he goes asleep too deep to awak- en—the negro will be responsible, and must dis- pose of him,” “ But—” ‘‘Come, come; are you losing your grip? There’s Brown’s step, now. Let us go downand join him.” They left the room and descended the stairs, ‘“‘T haven’t eat much of your grub. I'll stop eating any of it,” said Frank, with set teeth, ‘*So they mean murder, do they?” But there is one CHAPTER XI, FROM DURANCE TO LIBERTY, ‘Wr owe you—eight dollars I think it is,” said Clarkson, in atone of sarcasm to his youn ag reap ‘*T can scarcely say you have earn t, for we have given you little to do, but—” ‘* But I’ve gnawed your dry grub, and that’s worth eight dollars a week,” growled Frank in reply. ft was the day succeeding that of the events of the last chapter. The two confederates had visited Frank in his room, ‘‘ As for your money,” resumed Clarkson, ad- vancing toward the prisoner, while Converse guarded the doorway.—'‘ By the way, have you any money?’ He suddenly seized the boy, sep sinensis rr — inioning his arms, tter take care of it, here,” Frank struggled to get loose, but he was held ina grip far too strong for him tobreak. He struggled the more when Converse came up and sought tosearch his pockets. But, in spite of the boy’s kicking end squirming, his captors were too strong for him, and in a very few min- utes his money was in their hands, ‘* Mercy on us, he is well provided!” exclaimed Clarkson, surprised at the thick roll of notes. ‘Too much money—entirely too much—for any boy to carry.” - “T will get even with you for this!” growled Frank savagely. ‘“No doubt, my child.—What! he carries a watch, too? You surely do not need to know the time here, and it will be of so much uae to us, p In a moment Frank’s watch went the road of his money, ‘* You're a nice pair of blacklegs,” said Frank, sarcastically. ‘‘ Here’s a handkercher; wouldn't you like that? And there’s some but- tons in that left-hand pocket. Go ahead, foot- ds! ‘‘ We wouldn’t think of depriving you,” an- swered Clarkson, ‘‘ We are going North this afternoon, my lad, but you'll be left in good hands, Pomp will take the best of care of ye — When we come back—” ‘“‘T’d like to know what you're keeping ™ here for?’’broke in Frank savegely. ‘‘ Wha. right have you to lock nie up here?” “THis only to keep you out of mischief, New Orleans isn’t a safe city for little boys to run loose, Try and content yourself; we'll see you when we come back, Joe.” There was a mean- ing emphasis on the Joe.” With these words they left the room, locking “Tf you have, we had It is not safe with you the door carefully bebind them. Frank re- mained alone, ; There was a look on his face of mingled tri- umph and vexation. * ‘*Robbed me, blast their pictures!” he ex- claimed. “ Haven’t even left my watch, and I’ve got nothing to lend my uncle.— But they didn’t tumble to my little secret, and I’ve got the bulgeon them yet. I’m going to Lonisville, if I haye to walk, or work my way on a@ flatboat. , ‘¢ But, there isn’t time for that. Things are getting hot and I must go by train. I wonder if T can beat the conductor again, like I did before? Anyhow, I’m going, if I have to hang on by my teeth to the cowcatcher.” It was now about ten o’clock in the morning. His next visit from his dark-visaged jatier would be atone. Should he give the place leg- bail at once? His inclination led that vey, but it might not be wise. Clarkson and Con- verse might still be in town, and his escape te reported to them, After full consideration he concluded to wait, and make his flight in the afternoon. Bus the next three hours were about. the longest Frank ever spent, His anxiety to be off was so great that it seemed to him the mid- day meal would never come. The minutes crept- by so slowly that he was sure it must be the sur- set hour when a neighboring clock began on the stroke of twelve. The next hour moved stili more tardily. For- tunately for his peace of mind, Pomp was. of one, To the boy’s surprise he brought, instead of the dry bread and water of former meals, @ toothsome lunch of sliced ham, buttered biscuit, end cake, with a cup of steaming coffee for beverage. ‘*Hello, old Midnight!” cried Frank; ‘‘ what sort cf a blow-out is this? Going to fatten me. up to kill, eh?” : : ‘* Ds tole to fotch it, and I’s done it,” growled Pomp, in a harsh tone, ‘‘ Dar it am; make de mose of it.” ; “You bet I will. If they’d only sent a cut 0’ umpkin pie instead of that thin stuff of cake! When are you coming to see me again, Mid- stalking away with dignity, and locking the door behind him, “It ain’t white rose, anyhow; or pond ily.” ; Frank stood looking with queer regards at the wench, ‘“‘ Mighty enticing you are,” he said, “ but I happened to hear something about a pinch of ne wder,—Reckon I won't indulge.—And. rs, ook said she’d physic the pies in the try.—Somehow I think eating in this prompt, and made his appearance at the stroke — night?” : f Dat ain’t my name,” responded Pomp,
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- loose,” answer route. Flipper Frank’s Flush, ain’t good for the liver. Pomp.” He took his hat, sought his ulster in the closet Dll leave this grub for . an which it hung, and threw it across his arm, and then thrust his hand under the mattress for the key. He paused with his hand in that posi- tion, as if struck by a sudden thought. “By jiminy, overcoats ain’t no use in this climate! I wonder what mine’ll fetch? Not much I reckon, but a couple of dollars’d count now. This said, he withdrew his hand with the key, inserted it in the lock, and opened the door. Within five minutes afterward the young de- tective stood in the street before the mansion, having without difficulty made his way from the house unseen. : W hat was to be done next? The conspirators had for the time escaped him, but he knew where to find them. What he had to do was to get to Louisville as quickly as he could. There was the ulster. To dispose of that was the first consideration. Frank went into this business with a vim, and in an hour’s time had found a customer—at the low price of five dol- jars. The garment had cost twenty-five less than a month ago. Should he spend this to get as far North as it would take him? N», he had to eat, and could Spare no money for railroading. He must find a cheaper method of traveling. This thought brought another into his brain, Dick Wister—he would be needed, rank hast- ened to the telegraph-office, and spent part of his slender funds in sending a message to Dick in New York. It was to this purport: “Start at once for Louisville. The pear’s ripe and ready for pulling. Look for me at main hotel, Answer.” The answer was two hours in coming. It ran as follows: ‘* Am free now, and will be there. Glad ail’s well, WISTER.” ‘*So far good,” said Frank, with much satis- faction. ‘ Dick'll be worth a whole ox-team, Now I’ve got to get some grub, an’ it’s got to be cheap. .Got no money to waste,” In an bour afterward, with his appetite satis- fied, Frank appeared at the station of the Louis- ville and Nashville Railroad, An Express train for the North stood on the track, with steam up'in the locomotive, Pas- sengers were hurrying through the gate, Just as Frank entered the main door of tbe station his quick eyes caught sightof Mr. Converse, who was hurrying toward the cars, ; With a hasty impulse the boy followed. But he found himself checked at the gate by the sharp demand for ** Tickets!” ‘** Ain’t had time to get one,” heaverred, “ I'll pay aboard.” ‘“*That won't do, young man! Nobody goes through this gate without a ticket.” ** Tron-clad, is it?” asked Frank. does the train go?” “Yander it goes now.” The train began to move at that moment, ‘‘ You'll have to wait for the next.” ** And I’d been aboard it.if you hadn’t been so “thundering big and busy,” growled Frank, with a pretense of anger, ‘‘See here, Mr, Julius ‘Cesar, you’ve robbed me of a cool hundred ‘thousand by cutting me off from my train, and Tl sue your old road for that amount,” : “That's right, Mr. Snip-snap! Let yourself ed the official, “There pulls a freight train out; maybe you'd best travel by that, if you’re in a hurry.” ‘* By jiminy, I will!” exclaimed Frank, witha sudden resolution, ‘‘Good-by. Ili let up on your old railroad this time.” '. He darted through the gate before the sur- prised official could close it, ran at full speed after the moving train, and climbed egilely to the narrow platform of the rear car, while the gate-keeper stood looking after him, “Spry as a squirrel,” he said. ‘* Confound his impudence! I’d like to see him break a bone!” ‘Frank was off for Louisville by a very slow But, every step on his long journey counted, and he was bound to take advantage of every opportunity to make his way North, -Yhe bumper of a freight car, however, offered ho very agreeable seat, and he quickly climbed ‘the short ladder leading to the roof, and stretch- ed himself there at full length. The train dragged along on the trail of the fly- ang Express that was carrying north the two amen in whom he was so deeply interested. It -seemed like the old story of the tortoise and the ‘* How soon Laid DES tet DiS AD I Nd ee ee eee eee eee eee ee eee ee SS eee j hare—only in this case the bare was not likely to fall asleep till the tortoise overtook it, Out through the streets of the city, and on be- tween the low-lying country-seats and planta- tions moved the slow train, creeping onward mile after mile through the Louisiana low- lands. Frank before long grew tired of the car-roof, and started along the train on a journey of ex- ploration. None of the train bands were visible, and after crossing two or three cars he came upon a platform-car loaded with lumber. He climbed down to this, and found a com- fortable seat on the boards, under the warm southland sun, where he sat for miles enjoying the beauty of the tropical scenery, He was at length disturbed in his repose by a sharp exclamation. Looking up, he saw a man gazing down on him from the roof of the adjoining car. ‘** Hillo, tramp!” cried this train hand ‘‘ what the thunder are you doin’ there?” ‘* Traveling,” answered Frank, “Stealing a ride, are you? That won't do, young fellow. It’sag’in’the rules. You'll have to hop off at the next stop.” ‘* Ain’t goin’ to be bard on a fellow, are you?” queried Frank. ‘I got left on the Express, and the president of the road gave me a free pass on this lightning grasshopper.” ‘*The deuce he did!” cried the man, with a augh, ‘* You’re a smart coon,” ‘*See here, old chap, come down here and let’s have some chin-music,” suggested Frank, ‘*You’ve got nothing to do and 1’m full of bottled-up talk.” ; The train-band laughingly followed this sug- gestion, and Frank soon got so on his right side that nothing more was said about his leaving the train, He slept that night stretched in a narrow val- ley between two hills of planks, while the train now dragged slowly onward, now rested at a siding for a passenger-train to rush by, We cannot go further through the details of this long journey, It will suffice to say that Frank in due time reached the city of Nashville, at which point the freight ceased its journey porthward. By this time the young traveler had enough of that style of progress. He left Nashville on @ passenger-train, going as far north as a dol- lar’s worth of ticket would carry him, From that point he tried his former tactics—of travel- gs gen a ticket. e was less fortunate in this than before. Three times he was put off of trains, and once had to foot it over ten miles of Kentucky high- road to reach the next station. But impudence and energy carried him through, and in little more than a week after leaving New Orleans the resolute boy walked into Louisville, He had been left by an angry conductor at a station six miles back, and made this last section of his see partly in a mule-team and partly on oot. CHAPTER XII, AN EYE-OPENER. _ Tue end of the difficult enterprise of Detec- tive Frank seemed near at hand. He had, after a long and adventurous journey, tracked the conspirators to the city in which their scheme was finally to be put into effect. And he had learned much about the character of this scheme, He was sharp enough to perceive that the method of making cheap aluminum was a ras- cally fraud, designed to draw a number of rich dupes into a dungerous trap. ut just how the pair of villains proposed to deal with their dupes Frank was very much in the dark. This was the final stage in his enter- prise, and this he now proposed to investigate. Of two important things he was sure, He had discovered the Artful Dodger, a gentleman who was badly wanted by the prison authorities of New York. And he had learned that Con- verse was playing a game of fraud on his creditors, and had run away with fifty thousand dollars of their money. ‘“'That’s enough to pay for my trip, if I stop there,” said Frank. ‘‘ But l ain’t going to sto there. The Artful robbed me like a footpad, and I’m going to lay him out if it’s in the wood. Wonder if Dick Wister’s here yet? I want him bad just now.” This, at least, could be found out easily. Frank had wired him to the principal hotel in Louisville, Finding, by inquiry, the name and situation of this hotel, he made his way thither, and asked the clerk if they had a guest of the name of Richard Wister. ‘* Nobody here of that name,” was the an- swer, ‘* He was to be here this week, Maybe he has wired? Have you received a telegraph message for Frank Melton?” ‘*Ts that }our name?” e Yes,” J ** Where from?” ‘* New York.” **T have a letter for you, then. two days ngo.” : ‘* That’s better,” said Frank, with satisfaction. ** Let’s have it,” The clerk handed him the epistle in question, Seating himself on the nearest chair, Frank opened and read it. It was, as he supposed, from Dick Wister, and ran as follows: It came here “DEAR FRANK:— “T thought to start two days ago, in re- sponse to your telegram, but an awkward bit of work has stopped me, and I cannot get away for several days yet, You are somewhat chary of your communications, young fellow, and ink don’t cost much, and you might have let me know more about your jump over the United States, But I take it for granted that you don’t wire me to Louisville without wanting me bad, and I shall try and be there by the 25th. Kee your peach tilll come. Don’t try your own teet on it too rashly. ** Yours, ‘““Rica’p WISTER,” ‘What day of the month is this?’ Frank asked the clerk, “Twenty-third.” ‘‘Thank you.—Two days to wait, then,” he said to himself, ‘It’s port easy for Dick to talk, but I’m not sure Ican keep my tecth out of the peach that long.” It was still early in the day, Frank was hungry. His available funds now amounted to the small sum of one dollar and a half, his journey having consumed the balance, His first task, then, was to get the cheapest meal that he could find in Louisville. Hissecond was to scout that city from end to end in search of the two men whom he had followed so far. The day passed on until night was near at hand. By this time he was foot-sore and disap- pointed. Hebad traversed many miles of the city streets, visited every hotel, and tried every means he could think of to discover the Artful Dodger and his confederate, but without re- sult. It was not only these two he sought, There were three others—the Chicago, the St. Louis, and the New Orleans speculators in aluminum— but none of these either had he seen. The time was up in which they had engaged to be in Louisville, and he was sure they must be there, but he looked for them in vain, That day’s work had not panned out well. It was near night. He had come to a balt in front of a small grocery store in the edge of the city, where he sat on a box munching slowly at some biscuits which he had purchased from the pro- prietor. ‘‘ Don’t know where I’m to roost to night,” he rumbled, ‘It’s colder here than in New rleans, and a fellow might get the shivers in an outdoor plank bed. But, I’ve got to stretch what cash I’ve got left like India rubber. If I only— Hello!—by Jiminy, I clear forgot him!’ This exclamation was called forth by the vs ge of a person who just then came into view 7) si the munching boy. He recognized bim at gbt. It was the form of Mr. Palmer, his recent railroad and steamboat traveling acquaint- ance, ‘*What made me forget he was in the deal, and was coming to Louisville?” exclaimed Frank, cheerily. ‘‘Shall I—' No, I must keep shady. and take up his trail it’s the biggest bit of luck cut for him to turn up just when everything — had gone wrong.” As be thuscommuned with himself Mr, Palmer — approached. When he came opposite Frank, the boy’s face was so hidden by hand and bis- cuit that only the eyes were visible. The West- erner passed on without noticing him. =" Frank sat still till he was fifty yards in ad- vance, Then 7 sprung from his seat and put himself in pursuit, ; ray, The. journey continued until the March twi- light had faded out from the sky, and darkness asrapidly coming on, __ 3 "Now: ent far before them, there became visi- ble a large house, surrounded with a consider- able space of ground, around which rana wall. Paper ° J
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' penn It stood well outside the city, on a road leading eastward, and looked like the suburban mansion of some well-to-do resident. When Mr. Palmer came near this house he stopped and looked around him, as if to make sure of his surroundings, A short inspection seemed to satisfy him, and he then stepped to- =e the gate that opened through the front wall. He had laid his hand on the gate to open it, when his attention was called by a low whistle, He turned to see whence it came. ‘‘ How d’ye do, Mr, Palmer,” came a voice of greeting. Palmer looked toward the youthful figure which loomed up through the gathering shad- ows. ‘‘ Who the deuce are you that’s got me down 80 pat?” he demanded, “ Ain’t forgot the boy that done the con- ductor, have you?” ‘* What's that? It ain’t—” ‘‘ What’s the price of five-cent aluminum?” asked Frank, with a laugh, ‘‘ Dashed if it ain’t him! Shoot me if I ain’t blazing glad to see you. But what brings you here?” ‘** Been trailing you,” was the answer. “Trailing me? What for?” ‘*To keep you from running your head intoso deep a hole that you’d only have your heels to talk with.” ‘** By the Rocky Mountains, boy, what are you getting through you?” **You helped me out of a scrape once, Mr. Palmer, and I want to help you out of one now. Come this way, I want to talk with you.” Palmer hesitated a minute, and then turned and walked toward the city, side by side with Frank, “‘ Mighty glad to see you, young man, But—" “* fs that the aluminum factory?” interrupted rank, ‘* That’s a little secret. But—” “ But not from me, It’s only tit for tat, Mr. Palmer, for I'm going tolet you into a much bigger secret,” ‘ What's that?” asked Palmer sharply. “It’s this, You're dealing with a pair of the sharpest rogueson this side the Atlantic. As for their making cheap metal, they'll just as soon make chalk out of cheese, They’re in for making money, but it’s to go from your pocket into theirs,— You haven’t put any up yet?” “That ain’t our way out West, We want to see before we deal. I am to see the plant and the en oe to-night, and not put up a 1 ‘*That’s the shape of the dodge, is it? Mr. Palmer, I owe you one, and I’m foing to pa you. Can I trust you to keep a still tongue if let you into a deep secret?” , ‘You can, youngster. Pile in.” Frank had a highly interested auditor for the _next half-hour, during which time he told his companion the whole story of what he knew about Clarkson and Converse, and of his adven- tures in pursuit of the latter. When he reached the termination of his story, Palmer, who had scarcely spoken a word, gave vent to an exclamation of astonishment. * By the Rocky Mountains, boy, if this is all Gospel, you've struck ig Baie oil, When did » you say that detective ’d be here?” ** Day after to-morrow.” ** I'd like to see him era “*Pve told you my story. Now tell me yours. I want to know how these rascals have played their game,” : P ‘* They’ve been corresponding with me for some time,” answered Palmer, ‘I’m pretty well-known to have made my pile, and they made me an offer of twenty per cent. of the shares in the aluminum process for one hundred thousand, They had three others for the same amount, and were to put up fifty thousand them- _ selves, and keep the same number of shares, ‘*They’ve done that, too. Hill, as be called himself, saw me in Chicago, and showed me proof that he had that much in deposit in that city, You've heard now about the whole story, I am here to see the process, It’s a dead secret yet, and that’s why that out-of-town house is ** You haven’t brought the money with you” ** Some securities only, But they’re not to be ced till I am satisfied.” t “ And didn’t it strike you that to go to a lone- ly house, after dark, with securities in your wasn’t a very secure business?” _ “Why, hangit, I don’t know but you're right! But I never med of anything wrong.” __ **Come with me, Mr, Palmer. I’m a good deal younger than you, but I’m older in the ways of Flipper Frank’s Flush, m satisfied.” | 13 I want you to go to that house—and rogues, But_ you'd best leave your I’m going with you. securities behind.” To this sensible advice Palmer made no objec- | tion, and Frank led the way to the hotel at which he had received Dick Wister’s letter. Here he wrotea note to Dick, detailing the very important information he had gained, and | laying down the locality of the house so that it | could not be mistaken. In conclusion he re- marked: ‘©The peach is so ripe that I’ve got to bite it before it spoils. I’m going into that den to-night. If you don't find me when you arrive, look for me there sharp, for 1 may be in trouble. ‘© PRANK,” This note he sealed and directed. He then gave it to the clerk, asking him to be sure and deliver it to Mr. Wister as soon as he arrived. Mr. Palmer now, at Frank’s suggestion, left his securities with the clerk, to be deposited in the hotel safe. This done, the two left the hotel together. lt was about nine o’clock when they again reached the vicinity of the lonely house. But, Frank was not the Frank of an hour before. He had, witb an art he had learned from Dick Wis- ter, changed his face from its usual florid ap- pearance to a creole-like darkness, He hadalso, at Mr. Palmer’s expense, attired himself in a new suit of clothes very different from those he had lately worn. He now had accompanied him from Chicago; and when the man was admitted to the house, the boy en- as Mr. Palmer’s nephew, who tered with him, trusting that his disguise and | his coming with Mr, Palmer, would throw the reel Re villains they had to deal with off the track, or CHAPTER XIII, THE ALUMINUM PLANT, ‘‘T am sorry to say, Mr. Palmer, that our chemist was taken very ill this afternoon, and we have had to stop operations for to-night. Otherwise we could have shown you the plant at work, But, if you want to do your eyes good, which lay ona table beforehim, They were in a room in the lonely house already spoken of. ** Aluminum?” asked Palmer. “‘That there’s noneed tosay. Feel the weight of it and judge for yourself,” Palmer picked up one of the ingots, which weighed no more than a piece of fine wood of the same size, - That’s the sort of stuff we're bringing cut,” remarked Converse, ‘‘ All we want is the cash to extend our operations from a small to a large scale, The thing is a success, and we can make it by the ton as easily as by the pound—if we have the plant. Brown, Johnson, and Gordon have all caught on, and you have the refusal of the remaining shares. And, to tell the truth, Mr, Palmer, I would rather have you back out =e come in, We have capital enough as it 8. ** Back out? Not much,” replied Palmer. ‘If it’s as you say, I’m not so green as that. your word and I’m your man,” ‘* That’s business, But it must be cash down. We're taking no credit entries. brought the needful?” ‘*Not in the shape of cash. But I have se- curities which can easily be converted, if 1 take Prove Have you on. “With you?” e; ** Near enough to lay my hands on them at an hour’s notice.” An imperceptible change came over Converse’s face, not noticed by Palmer, but which did not escape the sharp eyes of Frank Melton, who sat listening to this conversation. ‘* My nephew here knows where they are, and can obtain them on my order,” continued Palmer, ‘*T came here ready to deal, you see, Mr. Hill. I don’t intend to draw out, or let you out.” ‘* And this fine boy is your nephew? Iamglad rs brought himalong. I like to rought up in business habits.” It was Mr. Clarkson who spoke, He had en- tered the100m at that moment, and fixed his see young men eyes on the face of Frank, who sat somewhat in the shadow, ‘* Yes,” answered Palmer, ‘‘1 have no time to attend to this business, and wish him to take ied good, very good. Your hand, yo man. am happy to welcome you as one 0! He fairly beamed on Frank as he shook his look at that!” It was Mr. Converse who spoke, and he point- ed to a heap of ingots of a silvery white metal, hand, But a cold shudder went through the boy’s frame. There seemed to him something of the hiss of a snake in that smooth tone, ne snaky coldness in the touch of that an ‘* Does he know me?” Frank asked himself. ‘*Hang his gimlet-eyes, I’m afraid he does. And if he does, ’'m in a deuce of a tight lace,” Whether the Artful Dodger had seen through the boy’s disguise or not, he certainly paid no further attention to him, but seated bimself and entered into an earnest conversation with the two men, ; The subject of their talk was aluminum, and the whole process of making it was described to Palmer, who appeared to drink it in with eager ears. ‘* Eleven o'clock,” at length said Mr. Con- verse, looking at his watch, ‘‘ How time flies? But there’s no need for you to go back to your hotel to-night, Mr. Palmer, We have plenty of accommodation here, both for you and your nephew.” ‘*T don’t want to impose on good nature.” ** Which there’s no danger of. And as we ex- pect to start in early to-morrow, it will be an advantage to have you on the ground.” Mr. Palmer, warned by a wink from Frank, made no further objections, and the two, short- ly after, were shown to rooms on the third floor of the building, where they were bidden ** Good-night.” . The brace of villainous conspirators descend- ed the stairs together, neither speaking till Swi had entered the room they had recently eft. Converse then turned to his partner with a. look of satisfaction. - “ That fills the bill,” he said. ‘‘ The other three are ready tocome to terms, and I fancy two or three days of our process will bring the money from Palmer, Then we have only to realize and put out.” “You think sof’ queried Clarkson, in @ satirical tone. ‘‘ What do you mean?” asked Converse, look- ing at him sharply. ‘*T mean that we have barely escaped being put ina hole, and that we’ve got to play our cards skillfully, or we’re in for it yet.” “*T don’t catch on to your meaning.” ** Hang his young hide! we were idiots not to- put an end to him before we left New Orleans,” growled Clarkson, ‘‘ But how he got off, and how he scented us here—” ‘* He?—Who?—What are you talking about?” cried Converse, in astonishment, “That confounded young fox. Where were your eyes, Jack? He had stained his face und sat in the shadow, but I knew him ata glance.” ‘**Do you mean that Palmer’s nephew is the young fellow we left locked up at New Orleans?” *“The same; and no more Palmer’s nephew than you are, Howhe got away and tracked. us here—” ‘*Then Palmer is on it, and we’re in a mess!”’ * But he gave» no show of it. And why did he consent to stay’ interrupted Converse nervously. here?” ‘*] like that least of all,” answered Clarkson, “*T caugbt the boy’s wink to him, They’re not afraid to stay here, and that indicates that the have laid plans for a rescue, if necessary. e have not a day to spare, Jack. We must push. matters and realize.” ** Good heavens! are we in danger of a failure after all our careful work? That young hound—” ** Will not tle him, if Clarkson savagely, t away from here alive, I'll set- ‘““We must work to-night,” exclaimed Con-- “First, to make- for the verse, starting up sharply. sure of our new prisoners. Then, others.” He hastily ascended the stairs, to the rooms. which had been assigned to their new guests. Reaching Palmer’s room he stopped ¢ Sounds could be heard inside asif the inmate was preparing for bed. There were strong bolts on the door at top and bottom. These he Mines slyly into their sockets, with an air of sa sfaction, **One,” he said, in a low tone, He next proceeded to the room occupied by © Frank, From this no sounds came, The | : seemed to have lost no time in to ‘Converse carefully turned the Tatch-handle and pushed, The door failed to yield, ' ‘He has locked himself in,” he said. good; I'll try to make him safer.” He sli; the two bolts, which were on this door also. - else goes by the board,” cried. peor aee ra
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Flipper Frank’s Flush. **Now, my spry young ferret, [ think we have * But it’s lucky for both of us that Clarkson has such marvelous quick eyes, He’s a wonder that way.” He turned away with a look of triumph. Their two foes were secured, and they had time to work, Had he known all his triumph would have been much less decided. Frank Melton was not i the boy to trust to chances, His door was lock- ed, if is true, but it was a wrong deduction from i that that he was lockedin. On the contrary, he )} was locked out. | : The villains, shrewd as they were, had com- i mitted an error in leaving their young guest uncared-for even for five minutes, Clarkson i fancied that he had shut the boy’s eyés by his ; suave manner, In truth, he had overplayed his part, and the shrewd young detective knew if well that his disguise had been seen through, } Hardly, therefore; had his hosts left the door oe before he extracted the key from the lock, i stepped outside, and locked the door from with- t out. ‘* Maybe I’m something of a fool; but I ain't much of a gudgeon,” hesaid to himself, ‘‘ Jf the Artful Dodger buys this coon fora mutton-head, id he’s off his eggs amazing. Now to hunt outa — hiding-place.” we He slipped away with noiseless footsteps, bi It was not until evening of the next day that a visit was made to the boy’s room, Secure in their belief that he was safely entrapped, the a conspirators had left him there while they fin- z ished their other work. They had certain things ny todo that tet but had no intention of leaving the house till Frank Melton’s case had been fully ¥ attended to, They were somewhat too secure in their ideas. Frank had been very busjly at work in the inter- val, and was now in possession of some impor- tant and curious secrets, With the aid of a pair of old rubber over- shoes, which he had found, he was enabled to traverse every portion of the house without a sound, Fortunately for him, the building seem- ed to be in sole possession of the two confeder- { ' ates, and he had no great difficulty in keeping jout of their sight. » What he learned was that it had other inmates, In addition to the two rooms which he and Palmer had occupied there was a row of other apartments on the third floor, each provided with strong outside bolts to the doors, Three of these rooms he occupied. This he : learned partly by listening at their doors, partly oa by overhearing the conversation of the two villains, He learned more than this. He discovered that the three prisoners were the capitalists whom he had owas: seen in Chicago; St. Louis and New Orleans—Messrs. Johnson, Gordon, and Brown, and that a very effective method was a pursued to make them yield their securi- ties, In short, they were being starved into compli- ance! In three days neither of them had re- ceived a morsel of food nor a drop of water! The result was what might have been expected. ‘They had all yielded to the torture of starvation, and made over to their captors papers which would enable them to secure the money set aside for investment in the aluminum project, ee This accomplished, the scoundrels had still a .. Palmer and his assumed nephew to deal with. Little did they dream where this nephew was, at that moment! ==, Elated with the important information he had ained, Frank had left the house by a rear win- ow, and made his way into thecity. Here he had called and made inquiry at the hotel. The clerk handed him a telegram which had been received several hours before,- It was from Dick Wister, and stated that he was on his way to Louisville, which he hoped to reach by that evening, but might be delayed till the next morning. Frank sat down and wrote him a short note, stating briefly what he had learned, This he left with the clerk. Leaving the hotel he strolled in the di- rection of the lonely house. He was in doubt whether he had not best await Dick’s arrival. Yet Palmer might be in danger, and might need aid. ‘The boy questioned himself whether he had not better inform the Louisville police of his discoveries, and have the house raided, Yet he hardly cared to give up the credit of his useful labors, and rob Dick Wister of the chance of po ha a hand in the settlement of that dark air. As he thus cogitated, he drew nearer and mearer to the lonely mansion. His feet seemed i drawn thither by some strong attraction. It was near sunset when he reached its vicinity. Should he enter it again, or go back and wait for Dick? His safety from discovery that day gave him courage. He leaped the wall that surrounded the grounds at a low place in the rear, and care- fully approached the house, All seemed still, Notasound reached his ears, nor a sign of life was visible to his eyes, A minute brought him under the window through which he had left the house a few hours before. There was a low bench from which he could easily reach it. The attraction was too great for the prudence of the adventurous boy, He stepped on to the bench, lifted the sash, and sprung lightly into the room. But hardly had his feet touched the floor when a blow fell upon his head that hurled him pros- trate and nearly senseless, while a triumphant voice exclaimed: ‘¢ We have him now! The fox has turned goose and trusted himself again within our clutches, By all that’s good, we’ve a long score to settle with him, and will pay it off to the last farthing!” ‘ CHAPTER XIV, IN THE NICK OF TIME, THE blow which Frank had received had been dealt with terrible vigor, His dazed senses soon lapsed into insensibility, and for an hour or more he lay like one dead. When he at length recovered, he found him- self in a dark room in which silence reigned supreme. His head ached severely, and he felt asharp pain at the point where he had been struck, He sought to lift his hand to his head, but it would not come, He now discovered that both hands were firmly bound, a rope being wrapped closely round his body and arms, His next effort was to rise to his feet—but with the same result, Feet and legs were as firmly bound as hands and arms, is captors had evidently determined that he should not es- cape this time, and had made him as secure as ‘could be done with ropes. An hour passed, during which not a sound nor a ray of light came to the young prisoner, At the end of that time he heard footsteps and voices without, Just what was intended to be done with him he could not guess, but he thought it safest to feign to be still insensible. As the door opened, anda ray of light shot into the darkened room, he closed bis eyes and brought himself to a studied lifelessness of appearance, ‘* Not come to yet,” exclaimed a voice which he recognized as that of Clarkson. ‘‘ You hit hard, Jack,” ** [ generally do,” answered Converse. ‘How if we were to let this insensibility merge into death? An open vein will do it. We are not safe while that boy lives,” » *T don’t like it,” replied Converse, ‘‘I can go my distance, but murder is a step beyond e. ‘* Squeamish, are you?” exclaimed Clarkson, in tones of contempt. ‘‘A dead boy is no more to me than a dead puppy. We have our work done, In a day more we will be rich. But tell you, if we leave this boy alive behind us, he will spoil our plans yet. I am getting to be a fatalist about this young hound. He is my evil genius, ** Don't kill him,” pleaded Converse. ‘ Put out his eyes, if you will. That will end his spy- ing. But don’t kill him,” ** Why, confound you, which is the worst— to killa man or to blind him? To. put him in torture for years, or toend him in a minute? Put out his eyes? No, no, I can’t do that! My plan is the most merciful,” “Well, do as you please. But don’t ask me. Several minutes passed. No more words were pee but there were sounds of moving about the room, as if the cold-hearted villains were preparing for their bloody work. A cold shiver ran through the boy’s frame. Great drops of sweat stood upon his brow, Was this to be the end of his career? Oh, why had he ventured here? Where was Dick Wis- ter? , Yet, despite his nervous dread, he brought all bis resolution to bear to retain an appearance of lifelessness. He feared thatif he should show signs of recovery, his ruthless enemies might do him some greater injury. In a few minutes more the boy felt a strong hand seize bis arm, ‘* The rope is in the way,” came an impatient voice, ‘« Cut the sleeve.” “* Ay, that will do it.” ‘He now heard a ripping sound, as a sharp blade severed the strong cloth of his coat- sleeve. Next came a sensation of cold upon his arm, The sieeve had been thrown back and the bare flesh exposed. A cold hand _——_ the arm | firmly below the elbow, shudder ran through the boy’s frame, despite his efforts to repress it, ** Ig it done?” asked Converse. ** Tt soon will be,” As this answer was given, Frank felt a sharp sensation of pain, followed by a feeling as of warm water flowing over his arm. ‘‘ The blood runs freely,” said Clarkson, with an air of satisfaction. ‘‘In half an hour the boy will be as dead as a door-nail, Thank the stars, we’re free from all danger from . him,” ‘* Let us go, then. answered Converse. Frank had never needed as much resolution as he did at that moment, He felt his warm life-blood flowiug from an open vein, and knew that he would surely bleed to death unless help came soon, Yet he dared not show signsof life to these heartless villains. They had spoken of putting out his eyes, They might do it should he open them. ith all his energy he held back every sign of life, and forced himself to lie as motionless as a corpse, 2 ‘‘You are right; we must make all haste,” said Clarkson. ‘‘ If these men should be res- cued before we finish our work, all our labor will be for nothing.” “Tf they be not rescued?’ queried Con- Minutes are precious now,” verse, ‘¢ Then this boy will have four dead men to keep him company.” The next moment they were gone and Frank was left alone, The door closed sharply behind them. Itseemed to him like his death-knell. he opened his eyes and for the first time breathed freely. All was dark around him. He strove earnestly to break the bonds that confined him, but they failed to yield. Still came that warm flow trickling down his baredarm, Withitthere came to his ears a pattering sound, as of drops falling in rapid succession to the floor, He knew too well what it meant—his life was ebbing away in those falling drops. Years seemed to pass over his head in the next few minutes, Unless help came quickly, his last hope of life was gone, Help? where would it come from? who would bring it? There were others in the house, but they were all starving prisoners, With the go- ing of the two villains he would be left alone to die. His voice was left him; should he call for help? To what purpose?—it was impossible that his voice could reach the ears of rescuers, It might but recall his ruthless foes to complete their devilish work, He strove to press the open vein against his body, and thus stop the flow of blood, The ef- fort wasin vain, The bonds held him too tight- ly. A shuddering horror shook his eve What should he do? Must he lie there and bleed to death like a stuck pig? limb, elpless As a last resort he rolled over on the floor, - a in doing so brought his arm under him, was a fortunate movement; the cut vein was pressed against a slight ridge in the floor, and the flow was partly ckecked, If he could keep this position, it would delay the inevitable result, But ‘it would be only a delay. Unless help came, death was certain, Five minutes of this slow torture pas-ed away. They seemed to him five hours, He could still feel the trickling blood, and despair was taking the place of hope in his heart. To die so ages with life so full of hope be-_ fore him! To die and leave his work undone! “It was more than his strained nerves could Suddenly from his lips there came an involun- tary shriek of d ir, that in Res a ghostly yel through the silent apartments of that lonely ouse, Had his voice been a bugle-call to arms, if could not have brought a more quick and stir- ring response, ‘ wae While its echdes were still vibrating through room and corridor there came a sudden uproar of voices without, followed by the sound of
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trampling feet, and the dull thud of what seemed blows. The boy listened intently, while new hope surged through his frame, ** Yield, or it ‘SVield!” came a stern voice. will be worse for you!” Frauk started and strained at his bonds. The voice was as familiar to him as his own. “It’s Dick!” he cried, joyfully. ‘* Dick! Dick Wister! Come here quick, or your bloom- ing jprentice will be deader than cold tur- key. There was an instant’s silence, then a voice of inquiry: “‘ Where are you?” “Here, This way.” An instant more, and then the door was flung open with a surge, and an agile form bounded into the room, The light of a lamp in the hall without illuminated the apartment. The new-comer sprung toward the fettered boy, It was the well-known form of Dick Wister | ‘‘Tied, are you?’ he asked, as he drew a knife. ‘And bleeding to death,” answered Frank. **Them hounds cut open a vein in my arm, and left me here to die.” ‘The wretches!” exclaimed Dick, as he sev- ered the boy’s bonds with slash after slash of the sharp blade, ‘‘The murderous villains! Up with you, Frank, we'll soon stop that,” As he spoke there came from without a fierce oath, and the sound of a falling body, instantly followed by the noise of fiight and pursuit, Dick turned on his heel and with one dash was through the door, leaving Frank to stanch the blood as he best could. ‘¢ What is it?’ came in the voice of the detec- tive. ‘* Where’s Clarkson? Where’s the Dod- er? ‘¢Gone!” was the reply. ‘‘He broke from Jones there, knifed him, and made tracks,” ‘The deuce!” came Dick’s sharp tones. ‘What were you doing? He must not es- cape.”’, Frank, pressing firmly with the fingers of his right hand the bleeding vein on his left arm, rushed to the door, just in time to see Dick Wister plunging down the stairs in fierce pur- suit, >, Before him stood a group of men, Two stout fellows held Converse prisoner despite his ef- forts to escape from their hands, third lay bleeding on the floor. The Artful Dodger had disabled him with a sudden knife-thrust, and fled, In five minutes afterward Dick returned, with a look of chagrin on his face. ‘* He has given me the slip,” he stated. ‘‘ The darkness favored him. He must be caught, if the whole country has to be raised, We've got one of them, at any rate. Lock him in that room till we want him. Now let’s see about this tellow, who has got paid well for not keeping his eyes open.” | He bent over the fallen man, and examined his wound. “Get up!” he cried, sharply. ‘‘It’s only a flesh-cut, You're not hurt. Haven’t got half what you deserved for letting go of the sharpest rogue in the United States.” The fellow rose to his feet with a shame- faced look. * And now, Frank,” continued Dick, turning tothe boy. ‘I got to Louisville just in time, it seems; found your note at the hotel, raised these men, and came here. What have you to say?” that I’d been a dead boy if you’d come a half-hour later, The hounds tied me fast, cut a vein in my arm, and Jeft me to bleed to death.” ‘* By Jove, it’s lucky Icame! We'll soon stop that,” But, what’s all this uproar?” ~ During the last words.their voices had been drowned by a loud knocking on the doors of the adjoining rooms, These were now followed by Is for release, ‘¢Them’s the rest of them,” explained Frank, “Slip the bolts on the doors there, and you'll ” gee, The Louisville constables hastened to obey, and from four rooms came four woe-begone in- dividuals. Mr. Palmer, who came first, seemed little the worse for his detention, but the others looked the picture of starvation. Ae Are these the men you spoke of?” asked ek, “Yes,” answered Frank. ‘‘ They have been lured here on false pretenses, locked up one after another, and starved into giving these thunder- ing rascals what they wanted.” Closer inquiry proved the truth of Frank’s Flipper Frank’s Flush. words, Each of the men had come there pre- pared to take shares in the aluminum cheap pro- cess if it proved satisfactory, had been lured into prison, and been forced by starvation into giving papers to their villainous captors that would enable them to raise severa! hundred thousand dollars, “Are these some of them?’ asked one of the constables, exhibiting a handful of folded docu- ments. These were eagerly opened by the released dupes, “* Yes; they are ours,” cried Johnson and Gor- don, ‘' Where did you get them?” “Then. the fellow who escaped must have mine,” exclaimed Brown, ‘* We must telegraph | to New Orleans at once and head him off.” **- You can save your powder,” answered Dick. “The Artful Dodger isn’t quite a fool. Hang him! he has given us the slip again; but I'll have him if it’s in the wood.” It was not in the wood, asit proved. Every effort was made to recapture the escaped rogue, butin vain. The police of all the cities of the West were put on the qui vive, yet despite their utmost efforts the Artful Dodger remained at liberty. A second time he had slipped through the hands of justice, and was free to repeat his schemes of villainy. Dick Wister returned to New York with such satisfaction as the possession of one prisoner could give him, and after having arranged that the fifty thousand dollars in the Chicago bank should be held until the creditors of Jacob P. Converse could prove their claims, Frank accompanied him, very much chop- fallen. That Clarkson had escaped, after all bis efforts, was a bitter pill for the ambitious young detective to swallow, and he repeatec to himself at every mile of the road: ‘*T will have him yet. I will round him up if I have to give my life to the work.” In truth the young detective had no occasion to feel depressed, but very much to feel elated with his work. Hehad run down the man on whose track he had been placed, discovered the great aluminum fraud, and saved all tbe in- tended victims from loss, alike the New York creditors and the Western capitalists. These parties certainly appreciated his ser- vices, for between them all they made up a purse of ten thousand dollars, which was placed to his credit in a New York bank. Nearly half of this came from Palmer, whose admiration of and thankfulness to the boy were un- bounded. Yet this large sum gave less satisfaction to the youBg detective than a few words of praise from Dick Wister. : ‘*Tt is well for all these people that I sent you on Converse’s track instead of going myself,” he said. ‘** You have done your work far better than I could havedone. If you keep on as you have begun, Frank Melton, you will yet be = as the Vidocq of the New York Po- ce. ** Just you save your taffy,” cnswered the boy, though his heart throbbed with proud ex- ultation. ‘I’m not worth a spoiled oyster while the Artful Dodger keeps loose, When I run him down, then you can blow. And I’m going to run him down, if there’s the right stuff in my corporation.” : And Detective Frank seit hia lips with a firm- ness that showed that ue «esant business. THE RD. Beadle’s Half-Dime Library. BY JOSEPH EF. BADGER, IR, 2 Yellowatone Jacky; or, The Trapper. 48 Black John, the Road-Agent; or, The Outlaw’s Retreat, 65 Hurricane Bill 3 or, Mustang Sam and His Pard, 19 eetene Sam 3 or, The King of the Plains. 86 iat awk Kit; or, The Daughter of the Ranch, 44 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 61 Panther Paul; or, Dainty Lance to the Rescue. 60 The Black Giant; or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy, 68 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire. 184 The Boy Trallers; or, Dainty Lance on the War-Path, 208 The af Pards; or, Dainty Lance Unmasks. 211 Crooked Cale, the Caliban of Celestial City. BID The Hinck Iider$ or Tie Home Thieves’ Leagn © Black er; or, The Horse-Thieves 2. 885 Old Double Fist; or, The Strange Guide : 855 The King of the Woods: or, Daniel Boone’s Last Trail, 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective. 625 Chineapin Dan, the Boy Trailer. 677 Chineapin Dan's Second Trail. 688 Chincapin Dan's Home Stretch. 698 Old Crazy, the Man Without a Head. 708 Light-Heart Dute’s Legacy. 718 Light-Heart Lute’« Last Trail. 728 Silverblade, the Shoshone. 729 Silwerbladec, the Half-Blood; or, The Border Beagle at Bay. 789 Silverblade, the Hostile; or, The Border Beagle’s Tratl. 748 Slilverblade the Friendly; or, The Border Beagle’s Boy Pard - et et BY T. C. HARBAUGH. 28 Nick o’ the Night}; or, The Boy Spy of ’76. 87 The Hidden Lodge; or The Litti Hunter. A? Nightingale Nat; or, Tne Forest Captains, 64 Dandy Jack; or, The Ontlaws of the Oregon Trait. 82 Kit Harefoot, the Wood-Hawk; or, Old Powder-face, 94 Midnight Jack; or, The Boy Trapper, 106 Old Frosty, the Guide; or, The White Queen. 128 Kiowa Charley the White Mustanger. 189 Judge Lynch Jr.i or, The Boy Vigilante. 155 Gold Trigger, the Sport; or, The Girl Avenger. 169 Tornado Toms or, Injun Jack From Red Core. 188 Ned Temple, the Border Boy; or, The Mad Hunter. 198 Arkansaaw ; or. The Queen of Fate’s Revenge. 207 Navajo Nick, the Boy Gold Hunter. 215 Captain Bullet; or, Little Topknot’s Crasade, 231 Plueky Phil; or, Rosa, the Red Jezebel. 241 Bill Bravo; or, Tie Roughs of the Rockies. Captain Apolivs the King-Pin of Bowle, The buckskin Detective; or, The King of Road-agents, Old Winch or, The Buckskin Desperadoes, Dynamite Dan; or, The Bowie Blade of Gochetopa. The Mountain Detective: or, The Trigger Bar Buily. $ Old Eellpse, Trump Card of Arizona, The Ten Pards3; or, The Terror ot Take-Notice. Rig Benson; or, The Queen of the Larso. Pitiless Matt; or, Ked Thunderbolt’s Secret. +} Coe! Sam and Pard ¢ or The Terrtble Six. Velvet Foot, the Indian Detective. } Captain Cutlass or, | he Brecaneer’s Girl Foe. Rough Rob; or, The Twin Champions of Blue Blazes, The Stiken Lasso; or, The Rose o Ranch Robin. Felix Fox, the Boy Spotter; or, The Gold Gang of New York, 5 Texas Trump. the Border Rattler. Phil Flash, the New York Fox; or, The Mystery of Room 21, 5 The City Vampfres; or, Ked Rolfe’s Pigeon. One Against Fifty; or, The Last Man of Keno Bar, The Boy Shadow ; or, Felix Fox’s Hunt. bs The Exceisior Sport: or, The Washington Spottr. % Single Sight, the One-Eyed Sport. Branded Ben, the Night ferret. Dodger Dick, the Wharf-Spy Detective, Dodger Dick’s Best Dodge; or, The Gotham Gold Gang. Fox and Faicon, the Bowery Shadows. } Dodger Dick, the Dock Ferret. Dodger Dick’s Double: or, The Rival Boy Detectives. 5S Dedecr Pick’sa Desperate Case. . 5 Dodger Dick. the Boy Vidocq, or, The Garg of Three. S¢B The Two Shadows: or, Dodger Dick’s Stop Game. : Dodger Dick’s Drops or, The Man from Jersey. Little Lon, the Street-Singer Detective. Old Skinner, the Gold Shark; or, Tony Sherp on Guard. The Champion Pardas; or, The Lucifer of Silver Bar, Dick Dean, the Dock Boy Detective. Kit, the Pavement Sharp. c 8 Billy Bantam, the Boy Beagle. 1 Jersey Jed, the Boy Hustler; or, Shadowing the Shadower: 5 Pappy Hugh, the Boy Musician Detective. Vuotograph Fred, the Camera Sharp. Wide Awake Len, the Quaker City Ferret, Daisy Dell, the Pavement Detective; or, Trapping Big Games Winka, the Bell Boy Detective. "54 Billy Winks, the Boss Boy Shadow. 68 Eagle Ned, the Boy on Guard: or, The Camp Spiders, 80 Tonkaway Tom, the Red Wizard. 827 The Bantam Sport. 848 Clip, the Battery Ferret; or, Jack Jeffers’ Foul ‘Plag. BY COLONEL DELLE SARA, 108 The Lion of the Sen; or, The Vailed Lady. 186 Cool Desmond; or, The Gambler’s Big Game, MISCELLANEOUS AUTHORS. 4 The Wild-Horse Hunters. By Capt. Mayne Reid and Frederick Whittaker. 9 Adventures of Baron Munchausen, 12 Gulliver’s Travels. By Dean Swift. 14 Aladdin; or, The Wonderful Lamp. 16 Robinson Crusoe. (27 Illustrations.) 18 Sindbad the Sailor. His Seven Voyages. 22 The Sen Serpent; or, The Boy Robinson Crusoe. By Juan Que HANI AANIO Lewis. 88 The Ocean Bloodhound; or, The Red Pirates ofthe Carribees, By S. W. Pierce. 86 The Boy Clowns or, The Arena Queen. By F 8, Finn. 88 Ned Wylde, the Boy Scout. By Texas Jack. 61 The Boy Fifties; or, The Underground Camp. By A. C.Trons. 95 The Rival Rovers; or, The Freebooters of the Mississippi By Lieut.-Col, Hazeltine. \ 98 Robin Hood, the Outlawed Ear); or, The Merry Men of Green- _wood. By Prof. Gildersleeve. 105 Old Rube, the Hunter; or, fhe Crow Captive. By Captain eee a Hanie ‘TheCave of Death, By Burton Saxe. 112 The Ma unter; or, TheCave . By “7 124 Tippy, the Texan; or, The Young Champion. By George Gleeson. 128 Tho Young Privateer; or, The Pirate’s Stronghold. By Harry Cavendish.~ 148 Sharp Sam; or, The Adventures of a Friendless Boy, By J. Alexander Patten. 227 Dusky Darrell, bg «to or, The Green Ranger of the Yel- lowstone. By Edward erson. : 261 Fercus Fearnaught the New Y irk Boy. By G, L. Aiken. 266 Killb’ar, the Guide; », Davy Crockett’s ked Trati, By Ensign C. D. Warren. 298 Rod Olow, the One-Eyed Trapper; or, The Maid ot the Cliff. By Captain Comstock. 817 Peseock Pete, the Lively Lad from Leadville. By Lieu- tenant Alfred Thorne. ; 828 The Sky Detective; or, A Boy’s Fight for Life and Honor. By Maior Mickey Free. 850 Rod falph, the River Rovers or, The Brother's Re- venge. By Ned Buntline. 865 Valtimore Ren the Bootblack Detective. By A. P. Morris. 874 Gold-Pust Tom or, Ben’s Double Match. @ H. Moree. 876 Galitornie Joe’s Firat Trail. By Colonel Thomas oyer Monstery. +5 Rilly Bombshell, ths Cue Citwher. By F.S. Winthrop. + ack § . By John r + A and His Three Invincibles. By Comanche Dic Henry J. Thomas. Duke. By Edwin Brooke Forrest. By David Druid. 582 The Cowbo B52 Artel_ the Athlete. BSS Will Waters, the Bov Ferret. By li. Enton. 682 The Dead Petective’s Double. By Gerald Carlton. 721 Maverick Mose, the Arizona Detective; or, The Wizard of Urkos Pass. By Will Lisenbee. 809 Don Danton, the Gent from Denver. By King Keene, of the PaaS > ee prs Mag Ao o. 2% 814 Acco High, the Frisco Detective. By C- E. Tripp. 880 The Grim Lodgers In Rag Alley; or, Citizen Rube of Number Seven. By Ben D. Halliday. . 881 The Chicago Drummer’s Peal. By J. G. Bethune. 841 phages Charlie, the Cat’s-Paw Sport, By Marm nke Dey. 848 Dan, the River Sport; or, Foiling the Frisco Sherp, By Harold Payne. 861 Billy Brine, the Swamp Fox. By Chas. F, Welles. | 879 Blue-light BI}, the Sapphire Sport; or, The Denver Detece tive’s Lone Hand, By King Keene. A New Issue Every Tuesday- The Half-Dime Library is tor sale py #1] Newsedealera, five cents per copy, or aent by mall on receipt of six cents eacn. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Street, Now York,
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BY 1 Deadwood 20 Deadwood 28 Deadwood 85 Deadwood 42 Deadwood AY Deadwood 57 Deadwood 78 Deadwood 7 Deadwood 100 Dead wood 104 Deadwood 10% Deadwood 129 Deadwood Deadwood 149 Deadwood 156 Deadwood 195 Deadwood 201 Deadwood 05 Deadwood 1? Deadwood 221 Deadwood 282 Gold-Duat 268 Deadwood 2658 Deadwood B09 Deadwood Deadwood 847 Deadwood 851 Deadwood $62 Deadwood 405 Deadweod 410 Deadwood Deadwood 480 Deadwood 448 Deadwood Penadwood Deadwood 459 Deadwood 465 Deadwood 471 Deudwood 476 Deadwood 4»1 Deadwood EDWARD L. WHEELER, Deadwood Dick Novela Dick, the Prince ot the Road. Dick’s Detianece; or, Double Daggers. Dick In Disguise; or, Buflas, Ben. * Dick In His Castle. Dick’s Bonanza; o:, The Phantom Miner. Dick In Danger; or, Omana Ol. Dick’s Eaglex; or, The Pards of Flood Bar, Dick on Beck; or, Calamity ¢ ne, the Heroine Dick’s Last Acts or, Corduroy Charlie. Dick in Leadville. Dick's Device; or, The Double Cross Sign, Dick aa Detective. Dick’s Double; or, The Gorgon’s Gulch Ghost. Dick’s ILome Hase; or, Blonde Bill. Dick’a Big Strike; or, A Game of Gold. Diek of Deadwood: or, The Picked Party. Dick’sa Dreamy or, The Rivals of the Road, Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hill’s Jezebel. Dick’s Doom: or, Calamity Jane’s Adventure, Dick’s Dead Deal. Dick’s Death-P lant. Dick. A Romance of Roughs and Tovghe, Dick’s Divides or, The Spirit of Swamp Lake, Dick’s Death Tra. Dick’« Deal; or, The Gold Brick of Oregon. Dick’« Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats Dick’a Punenta; or, Days in the Diggings, Diek Sentenced; or, the Terrible Pondetta, Dick’a Claim. Dick in Dead City, Dick’s Diamonds, Dick In New Vorks or, A “Cute Case,” Dick’s Dusty; or, The Chained Hand. Pick, Jr.y or, The Crimson Crescent Sigs, Dick, Jr.’«, Deflance. Dick, Jr.’4 Full Hand, Dick, Jr.’«, Ble Round-Up. Dick Jr.’* Racket at Claim 10, Dick, Jr.’a Corral; or, Bozeman Bill. Dick, Jr.’a, Dog Netective. Dick, Jr., in Deadwood, 491 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Compact. 496 Deadwood 600 Deadwood 5608 Deadwood 515 Deadwood 622 Deadwood 529 Veadwooa 584 Deadwood 539 Deadwooa 544 Deadwood 549 Deadwooa 554 Deadwood 561 Deadwood 567 Deadwood 572 Deadwood 5678 Deadwood $84 Deadwooed 590 Deadwood 5695 Dendwood 600 Deadwood 606 Deadwood 612 Deadwood 618 Deadwood 624 Deadwood 680 Deadwood 686 Dendwood 642 Deodwood 648 Deadwood 654 Deadwood 860 Deadwood 566 Deadwood 672 Deadwood 678 Deadwood 684 Deadwood 690 Deadwood B95 Deadwood 700 Deadwood 704 Deadwood 710 Deadwood 716 Deadwood 722 Deadwood 728 Deadwood 784 Deadwood 740 Deadwood 747 Deadwoo 752 Deadwood 758 Deadwood 764 Deadwood 770 Deadwood 776 Deadwood 782 Dead wooa 787 Deadwood Dick Jr.’a, Inheritance, Pick, Jr.’s Diggings. Dick, Jr.’a, Deliverance. Dick Jr.'s Protegee. Dick, Jr.’s, Three. Dick, Jr.’a, Danger Ducks, Hi ort oe Munt, ck, drs, in Texas, Dick, Jr., the Will West Vidoog Tick, dr., on Mis Mettle. Dick, Jr., un Gotham, Dick, Jr., in Boston. Dick, Jr., in Philadelphia. Bick? eg in CBicage ek, Jr., oat. Dick. or... in benver, lick, Jr.t«, Decree, Dick Jr., tu Beelzebub’s Basin, Dick, Jr., at Coney Island, Diek, Jr.’ Leadville Lay. Dick, Jr., in Detroit. Dick. Jr. in Cineinaatl. Dick. Jr., In Nevada. Dick, Jr., in No Man’s Land, Dick, Jr., After the Queer, Dick Jr.. In Buffalo. Dick, Jr.’a, Chase Across the Continent Dick, Jr., Among the Smugglers. Diek, Jr.’s, Lnsuranee Case, Dick, Jr., Rack In the Mines. Mek, dr., (n Durangoy or, “ Gathered In.” pie? ore ie ewes) 7 Found a Fortune, ek, Jr.’a. Dazzle. Dick, Jr.'s. Dollars, ae or at Dowser Divide, ek, Irs, Drop. Dick, Jr., at Jack-Pot. Diek Jr., in San Franelsco, Dick, Jrs Still Hunt. Dick, Jr.'s Dominoes. Bick, Jr.’ Disguise. Dick, dr.’s, Double Deal, Dick Jr.’a, Deathwatch, Dick, Jr.’#, Doublet. Dick, Jr.’«, Deathblow, Diek, Jr.’s Desperate Strait. Blak, 5 he ne gig ek, Jr.’« Detcat. Dick, Jr.’s, Resurrection, Dick. Jr’s Dark Days. Dick Jr., Dofled, 792 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a, Double Device. ’ 4 Pendwood Dick, Jr’.«, Desperate Venture, Deadwood 807 Dendwood R12 Re wood Dick, Jr.’e, Diamond Dice, Dick Jr.’«, Royal Flush, ra Hend-off, Dick, Jr.’a, Oath, 9 HTT Deadwood Dick, BRS Death-Doom, 986 Deadwood Dick, 992 Deadwood Dick, dr. at Gol 998 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s Big Pl r.’a, Best ge . ust. ay. ¢ BY WILLIAM R, EYSTER, 190 Pandy Darke 3 or, The Tigers of High. Pine. 210 Faro rank or, Dandy Darke’s Go-Down Parde 818 The Hustler Rogue-Catcher. 888 Poker Pete’s Double Dodge, ; 851 The Tie-To Sport; or, High Hustling at Sinners’ Fiat, 888 Monte Saul, the Sport. 901 Diamond Da ve, the Gilt-Edge Shooter, 914 Crack-Shot Datsy’« I Sport in Velvet; or, big Burk’s Blatt. : The Rook-Ravans’ Root-Out, 962 Flip-Flap Fred at Hard Pan | ‘ SS ETI Gh ee Pfs ara Other Novela by E. L. Wheeler. 80 Rosebud Robs or, Nogget Ned, the Knight. 84 Rosebud Rob on Hand; or, [dy], the Girl Miner. 8S Rosebud Kob’s Reap jcarance; 121 Rosebud Rob's Challenge; or, Cinnamon Chip. 277 Denver Doll, the Detective Queen; or, The Yankee’s Surround | 281 Denver Doll’« Victory; or. Skul! and Crosabones. R55 Denver Doll's Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza, 896 Denver Doll's Drift; or, The Road Queen. 865 Vrekua Jim, the Gold-Gntherers or, The Life Lottery, 873 Yreka Jim’s Prize; or, The Wolves of Wake Up. B85 Yreka Jim’« Jokers or, The Rivals of Red Ncse. 894 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam, 209 Fritz, ‘the Bound-Boy Detective; or, Dot Leetle Game, 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloquist Hunter 244 Merra Sam, the Froutier Ferret: or, A Siater’s Devotion, 248 Alicrra Sam Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints 258 Sierra Saa’s Pard; or, The Angel ot Big Vista. 258 Sierra Sam's Sevens or, The Stolen Bride. 884 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miner. 89 Kangaroo Kit’« Racket; or, The Pride of Played-Out, 8Y Death-Fuce, Detective; or, Life in New York. 96 Watch-Eye, the Detective; or, Arabs and Angels. 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sp rt Detective 145 Captain Ferret, the New York Detective, 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 226 The Arab Detective ¢ or, Snoozer, the Boy Sharp. 291 Turk the Boy Ferret. B25 Kelley, Mickey & Co. «the Detectives of Philadelphia. 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Detective. 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective, 416 High Wat Harry, the Base Ball Detective, 426 Sam Slahsaides, the Beggar-Boy Detective, 484 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon; or, The Border Vultures, 82 Bob Woolf or, The Girl Dead-Shot. 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand, 58 Jim Bludasoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix. 61 Buckhorn Bill; or, The Red Ritle Team 92 Canada Chet ¢ or, Ol) Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s Camp. 118 Jack Hoyle the Young Speculator. 125 Bonanza Bill, Miner; or, Madam Mystery, the Forger. 188 Boss Hob the King of Bootblacks. 141 Solid Kam, the Boy Rond-Agent; of, The Branded Brows, 177 Nobby Nick of Nevaday or, The Sierras Scamps. 181 Wild Frank the Buckskin Bravo; or, Lady Lily’s Love, 286 Apollo BIH, the Trail Tornado; or, Rowdy Kate. 240 Cyclone Kit, the Young G)adiator; or, The Locked Valley. 278 Jumbo Joe, the Boy Patrol: or, The Rival Heirs. 880 Little 858 First-Class Fred, ‘he Gent trom Gopher. 87S Nabob Ned¢ or, The Secret of Slob City. 882 Cool Kit, the Kirg of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, 488 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher; or, A Son’s Vengeance, 426 Senlakin Sam. the Sparkler; or The Tribunal of Ten. Kit Keith, t e¢ Revei-ue Spotter, 922 Sol Sharpe, the New_York Night-Hawk. 948 Old Hayseed Among Bunco Men BY J. 0. COWDRIOK. 490 Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. 614 Broadway Billy’s Boodle; or, Clearing a Strange Case 586 Broadway Billy’a ‘ Diffikilty.” bbT Brondway Billy’s Peath Kacket- Brondway Billy’s Surprise Party, 605 Broadway Billy; or; The Boy Detective’s Big Inning, 628 Broadway Broadway Broadway Billy in Clover. Broadway 708 Broadway Zil Brondway Billy’a Brand, 785 Brondway 788 Broadway 758 Brondway 762 Broadway 769 Broadway Billy, the Retriever Detective, 775 Broadway Billy’s Shadow Chase. 788 Broadway Billy’« Beagles; or, The Trio’s Quest, 736 Broadway 790 Rroadway Billy’s Brigade; or, The Dead Alive, 796 Broadway Billy's Queer Bequest, 800 Broadway Billy Bafiled, 805 Broadway Billy’s Signal Seoop. 810 Broadway Billy’s Wipe Ont. 815 Broandway Billy’s Bank Racket. 821 Broadway Billy’s Bluff. $26 Broadway Billy Among Jersey Thugs, 888 Broadway Billy’s Raid. R89 Brondway Billy’s Big Boom, 844 Broadway Billy’s Big Bulge. 849 Broadway Billy's #100,000 Rna 856 Brondway 862 Broadway Billy in London. 868 Broadway Billy Shadows London Slums, 874 Broadway Billy’s French Game. . 880 Broadway Billy and the Bomb-Throwers, Billy’sa Business, Billy’s Curious Case, Billy in Denver. B60 Allver-Mask, the Man of Mystery; or, The Golden Keys, BE9 Shasta, the Gold King ; or, ForSeven Years Dead. 420 The Detective’*A perentiest or, A Boy Without s Name, 424 Cibuta Jonn; or, Red-Hot Times at Ante Bar, 489 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout, 467 Diaco Dan, the Daisy Dade. 506 Redlight Ralph. the Prince ofthe Road. 524 The E 548 Mart, the Night Express Detective. B71 Air-Line Luke the Young Engineer; or, The Donble Case 592 The Boy Pinkerton; or, Running the Rascals Out. 615 Fighting Marry the Chief of Chained Cyclone, 640 Bareback Reth, the Centaur of the Circle. 647 Tynewrlter Tilly, the Merchant's Ward. 659 Moonlight Morgan 887 Battery Bob. the Dock Detective, 894 Arizona Dick's W ipe-Out. ona gumping Jack’s Jubilee. 906 Satety Sam, the Cycle Sport. 912 Train Boy Trist’s Hot Hustle, 918 The Trump nag tong 924 Big Roots Bob, the ‘tre-Laddie. 980 Kuatler Ralph, the Boy Spotter. 985 The Ex-New«boy Detective’s Chum, 941 The Bowling Green Detective’s Drop, 944 Cowboy Charlie's Double. 947 The Bowery W restler; or, 960 The Broadway Sport; or, Fiver Fred’s Clear Cnse, OKT &1000 Reward; or, The Rival 978 Bantam Billy, the Corker-Ferret, 978 Plucky Pat, the Street-Boy Detective. 989 Bicycle Bob's Hot Scorch, 997 Scorcher Sam, the Detective on Wheels BY WM. PERRY BROWN. 956 Brooklyn Hob’s Bulge; or, Dodger Dot’e Dittoeed Bact. ree 968 The East-Side Spotter; or, arg Dosh the Bi 974 Old Sant’s Dark Deal: or, Miner Mat’s Iron Grip. Oa. Oe or, Photograph Phil. ulck-Shots or, Nhe Dead Face of Daggersville, Billy’s Dead Acts or, The League of Seven, Billy Abroad; or, The Bootblack in Frisco, Broadway Billy’s Beat; or, Beating San Francisco's Finest. Billy in. Texas; or, The River Rustlers. Billy at Santa Fe; or, The Clever Deal. 720 Broadway Billy’s Full Wand; or, The Gamin Detect! Bully’s Rargain; or, The Three Detective, Billy’« Teams; or, The Combine’s Big Pall. Dp. Billy’s Blind: or, The Bootblack Stowaway, ngineer Deteetive; or, Redlight Ralph’s Resolve the ** Pizenest ”? Man of Ante Bar, zt The Butcher-Boy’s Backer, 958 Paddy’s Trump Card; or, Silver Sallie, the Gir) Sport, eporters’ Sleek Scoop, ee SE ne a ee Sat ae ee ee BEADLE’S* H ALF- DIME* LIBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Each Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents, by all Newsdealers.. 995 | OSS bE | 975 968 964 B55 948 9A2 98 929 650 216 222 BUFFALO BILL NOVELS. BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM, ‘Buffalo Bills Drop; or, Dead-Shot Ned , the Kansas Kia. Buffalo Bill’« Lasso Throwers, Buffale Bill’a Fighting Five. Buffalo Bill's Kiffe Shots. Buffalo Bil’s Kush Ride; or; Sure-Shot, the High-Flyer, Butialo BiUls« Decoy ; or, The Arizona Crack Shot, Buffalo Bill's Mazeppa-Chase, Buffalo Bil’s Snap-Sbot ¢ or, Wild Kid’s Texan Tally Buffalo Bill’s Tough Tussle. Buffalo BUDs Boy Minacots or, Joe Jarvis’ Hold-up. Buffalo Bila Crack-shot Pard. Buffalo Bill's Boy Pard; or, Butterfly Billy. Kelson Bll, the Prince of the Reins. Bison BUPs Clue: or. Grit, the Bravo Sport, BY BUFFALO BILL. Deadly-Eye, the Unknown Scec ut; or, The Banded Brotherhood Border Robin Hood; or, The Prairie Rover. Faney Frank of Colorade;: or, The Trapper’s Trust. BY CAPT, ALFRED B, TAYLOR, WU. §, A, Buffalo Buly, the Boy Bullwhacker. Buffalo Bills Bet: or, The Gambler Gua'de. BY COLONEL PRENTISS INGRAHAM, New York Nat’s Drop: or, Ex-Ferret Sykes’ Bold Game New York Nat and the Traitor Ferret. New York Nat Trapped. New York Nat’s Three of a Kind, 5 New York Nat’s Double. New York Nat’s In Colorado. } New York Nat in Gold Nugget Camp. New York Nat’s Deadly Deal. New York Nat's Crook-Chase. y York Nat’« Trump Card. y York Nat and the Grave Ghouls. y York Nat’ Masked Mascot. New York Nat, the Gamin Detective. Dick Doom’s Kidnapper Knock-Out, Dick Doomw’s Ten Strike. < Deom’s Flush Hand, Dick Doom’s Death-Grip; or, The Detective by Destiny. Doom’sa Destiny; or, The River Blackleg’s Terror. : Doomy or, | he Sharps and Sharks of New Yorks Dick Doom In Boston; or, A Man of Many Masks, Doom tn Chicago. Dick Doom In the Wild West. Dick Doom’s Clean Sweeps or, Five Links ina Clue. Dick Doow’s Death Clie. Dick Doom’s Viamond Deal. Dick Doon ’a Girl Mascot. Dick Doom’s Shacow Hunt, Dick Doom’s Big Meul. _ Dashing Charlie: or, The Kentucky Tenderfoot’s First Traii.. Dashing Charlle’% Bestiny; or, The Renegade’s Captive. Dashing Charlie’« Pawnee Pard. Dashing Charlie, the Rescuer. Ruck Taylor, King of the Cowboys. 7 Buck ‘Paylor, the Comanche’s vere Buck Taylor's Koya or, The Red Riders ot the Rio Grande, Pawnee Bill, the Pirie Shadower. Pawnee Bill: or, Curl, the Mad Cowboy. Pawnee Bix Pledge; or, The Cowboy's Doom, 5 Pawnee Billy or, Daring Dick. Redfern’s Curtous Caner o, The Rival Sharpes. kKedtern at Devils Kanchj or, The Sharp from Texas, Redferw’s High Handy; or, Blue Jacket. Redfern’s Last ‘Trail: or ‘The Red Sombrero Rangers, And Fifty Others. BY T. J. FLANAGAN, Midshipman Dare, the Pirate Catcher. The Young Cowboy Captain. : The Two Vidshipmen; or, The Corsair-Chaser’s First Cruise. The Three Lieutenants 949 959 The Mascot Middy ¢ or, The Four Commanders, 966 Fighting Jack Shubrick. 972 Fighting Jack’s Middies ; or, Dandy Dick’s Dash. 601 61iL BY LIEUT. A. K. SIMS. 7 IIa Bilda 646 Cowbo Gid, the Cattle-Range Detective. 57 Warbling wi 6 665 Jolly Jeremiah, the Plains Detective, 676 SI 689 Billy, the 699 Simple Sim, the the Leg ee ee ae (acu “ 3 OF, e Mystery of Two Lives, The p Bac A Buster: or, For Big Stakes. i 12 The Meamertat Spents or, The Mystified Detective, e a ‘.: 88 Toltec Tom, th 5 Kansas Sin. the Cross-Cu Prospector. Detective, eek Marmaduke, the Mustanger Detective. 7 8 The Ruatler of Rol 785 Lone Hand Jee, the o1 « Stone. ‘ommmittee of One. ent Kirby, the Higti-Kicker from Killbuck, he Doctor Dete etive In Texas. 872 Two Showmen lHetectives In Colorado. 987 The 961 The exan Firebrand or, Brasov Billy’s Snap.Shot ramp’s Trump-Trick. NEW ISSUES. 1004 Scorcher Bam’s Sweep-Stakes 3 ©, Bicycle Bess, The Boulevard Belle Detective, By J. C. Cowdrick. 1005 Deadwood Dick, Jr., Branded; or, Red Rover at 1006 Fligoer Frank’s Flush; Powder Pocket, By E L. Wheeler. Eur, Bate or, Tracking the Dodger from. New York to New Orleans. By Charles Morris. 1007 Buffalo Bill's Sure-Shots. By Col, P. Ingraham.; 999 Jack Lang, JUST ISSUED. the Privateer Rovir; or, The Man of Many Names. By T. J. F anagan. 1006 Buffalo Bill's Deeoy Boys. By Col. P. Ingraham, 1001 Banty, the Denver Bootblack; or, The Dark-Lanterp D etective. By E. L, Wheeler. 1002 Six-Foot Sol, the Sharp-Shooter ; or, Johnny on the Spot. By Wm R. 1008 German The Half-Dim £yster, . Joe, the Hayseed Sport; or, The Twin Racket at Placer Ranch. "By H. M. Boynton. jer A New lasue Every Tuesday. e Library is for sale by all newsdealers, ive gonte per sopy, or sent by mail on receipt of six cents each. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 92 William Street, New York,