Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 1069) (1898 01 18)
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Five Cents a Copy. BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, No. 1069. $2.50 a Year, 92 Witt1aM Street, New York, YR P2S— — DESY Chet OEY Chef eet DIGIT ~ —~ \- SQV ee) ha DOE Re —* wD, Sac p= —s \ GALE. IK Cog BD OPI BEADS ELGG OOS NLL DN EEE LDS EEL LPL GOP OE Entered as Second Class Matter at the New York, N. Y., Post Office, Copyrighted 1897, by BEADLE AND ADAms, (NG Tuesday. Published Every = V7.0) “XT IT | ili ATTN > Rae i) Ni _ ; Al January is =~ eG OEE] LS,
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2 ————_—_—_- On Land and Sea; OR, The Perils of a Kidnapped Boy, BY BRACEBRIDGE HEMYNG., CHAPTER I. BEAUTIFUL NAPLES. A. D, A——, 1888. Our scene opens in Naples, probably the most beautiful cit¥ in the world; city of the rich, and of Masanillo and his macearoni-eating lazarroni; queen of. the deep blue sea, and the lava-heaving Ve- suvius, with buried in scoria Pompeii close by, like the death’s head: at a ban- quet, as a warning to her palatial streets and vine-clad nills. But what Neapolitan cares for the standing terror of the fiery mountain? Least of all, did the young, handsome, and wealthy Carlo Malvini, Count di Capri, owner of the Palazzo Bomba. He lived for enjoyment, like a butterfly. Suf- ficient for the day was the evil thereof, and ‘he gave little heed to the morrow. In the smart society set two Ameri- can ladies attracted great attention. They were Mrs. Winthrop and her daughter, Mamie, a lovely brunette, seventeen years of age, versatile and accomplished. Their dresses and diamonds were immense. Mrs. Winthrop was a handsome widow. Her husband had been a New York mer- chant. He died a millionaire. The Count di Capri had met Mamie on several occasions, and was deeply en- amored of her. He had been waiting for some time to get an opportunity to pro- pose for her hand. Mrs. Winthrop, one week in May, had issued cards for a reception at the Hotel Emmanuel, where she resided with her daughter. The Count was on her visit- ing list; consequently he received an in- vitation. Here was the chance he had been looking for, and he resolved not to neglect it. ‘’he Count bought a diamond bracelet, worth five thousand dollars, and sent it to Miss Winthrop's hotel as a present with his card. This was his advance agent, He also sent her a costly bouquet. Things like this tell their tale. In the afternoon he drove out, His pair of horses were the finest in Naples. He passed Mrs. Winthrop and her daugh- ter; they smiled upon him, which he took for an augury of success. A second time the carriages met and passed. This. time he was surprised to gee a distinguished young gentleman seated opposite the ladies. They had taken him up. The meeting was either accidental or by appointment—which? It was impossible to ide, At all events, the gentleman was on terms of intimacy with the family. The demon of jealousy was instantly aroused in the mind of di Capri. Who was. this stranger? The fashionable drive was not lengthy. . Carriages were constantly meeting. A third time the Count and the Winthrops were in contact. There was a block in the road. Di Capri reined in alongside. It was impossible to avoid conversation. *“T hope we shall have the pleasure of your society this evening, Count,” said Mrs. Winthrop, after the usual greetings. “Mme. Nevada, the famous opera singer, is engaged. You are com- ing? So glad. Allow me to introduce to you Captai jm London last year.” 4 Captain Charles Vernon of the Eng-' jish Grenadier Guards, whom we knew On Land and Sea. The men bowed to one another stiffly, but before any more could be said the block broke, and the carriages were obliged to move on. Instinctively, Vernon and di Capri knew they were rivals. The latter’s hot Italian blood boiled. Was he to be foiled by an Englishman? Driving home he sent the groom with his equipage to the stable and walked by the sea. The bay was quite calm. No sailing yachts were out, but steam launches fluttered about like fire-fiies. From the sea he went to the Club of All Nations, which was noted for its high play. Fortunes had been lost there in a night at baccarat. Di Capri himself had often been a heavy loser. In the smoking room he drank a liberal quan- tity of brandy. Presently entered Colonel Castiglione, an intimate friend of di Capri’s. He was a gossip, a general fa- vorite, going everywhere, and knowing every one; one who was worth knowing. He was the very man the Count wanted in the crisis that had arisen. He could not apply to any man better calculated to give him the information he wished for. “Caro Carlo! ” exclaimed Colonel Cas- tiglione. “You seem somewhat distrait. If there is trouble with a man, find the woman. These creatures make our hea- ven and—our hell!” “You know the American people—the Vinthrops? ” * Perfectly well. I am a friend of the hovse. Very charming is Senorita Ma- nie. Ye gods! She would inflame any man’s heart. But, again, who is the man? In your case there must: be a man.” ‘An Englishman—Captain Charles Vernon. Young, pink and white face, har parted in the middle, curled mus- tache, wears stays, I should think.” “ You are prejudiced,” said the colonel. “He is an excellent fellow, who has been engaged to Miss Winthrop for some months. They are to be married shortly. I had an idea that every one in our set knew that. They leave here directly. Have your eyes been shut and your ears closed?” Count di Capri was dumfounded at this intelligence. It was a death-blow to him; the knell of doom had sounded. Disguising his feelings, he changed the subject, pretending to be unconcerned. His manner became flamboyant. He drank, smoked, talked, and dined at the elub. , - At 8 o'clock he went home and dressed. An hour later he was.at the hotel. The reception room was crowded. The oper- atic diva was singing, and the guests were talking loudly as if to drown her yoice. Mrs. Winthrop received very well. Di Capri walked up to Mamie, who was the centre of a select cot2rie and the cynosnre of all eyes. She wore this pracelet and the flowers he had sent her! This was encouraging, but alas! What had Colonel Castiglione told him? How Icyely she looked! His heart was aflame, his brain burned. She received him kindly, and after a brief conversation he offered his arm for a promenade, and they strolled into the conservatory, which was filled with palms and flowers and elegantly lighted with colored lamps. Stopping near a fern-covered bank, di Cepri, begging pardon for his abruptness, told the story of his love, If rejected, he ‘said, it might turn to hate. He was half mad. At first he fawned and cajoled; then he threatened. It is doubtful if he knew what he did: shiPai *. Gently, in a ledylike way, Miss Win- ' throp told him that she could not wed him because she loved another. Had they met earlier it might have been differ- ent. Always would she regard him as a friend and be proud of his friendship. He bore it bravely, but at the same time he vowed to have the bitterest re- yenge. They left the garden and returned to the reception room. Her attention was at once arrested by a dozen people. With a sweet smile, Which meant nothing, she disengaged her arm from that of the Count, and was talking to first one, then to others, in four languages. Di Capri knew everybody; sociable mood. He wandered about, look- ing for Captain Vernon. He was not there. It was late, but he had not yet arrived. At length the Count walked from the hotel and was driven rapidly to the club. “Tf I could only meet that fellow! ” he muttered. - There was a depth of meaning in those words. They portended evil to Charley Vernon and Mamie Winthrop! It was midnight when he entered the Club of All Nations, and he proceeded at once to the card room, where about fifteen well-known gentlemen were as- sembled playing the fascinating but often ruinous game of baccarat. Colonel Cas- tiglione was the banker, The play was high. Di Capri felt the mania for gam- bling. He was utterly reckless. What became of him he did not care. Presently he went to the table. Colonel Castiglione saw him and asked him to take the bank. With a nod he accepted the offer. Silently, mechanically, he set to work. Luck was against him. He lost coup after coup, but he would not have the sense to give in. As he lost, he gave checks. They were accepted, because it was known that they would be honored the next morning and duly cashed at his bank. At 5 o’clock he was at the end of his tether and another hour saw him a bank- rupt man. Throwing down the cards he made room fot somebody else and paced the room with his hands in his pockets. He was ruined. It was nearly dawn and there was a sound of laughter and revel- ry in the corridor. Two young men en- tered, their faces flushed as if by wine. One was Captain Vernon! Capri saw him he hissed like a snake and gnashed his teeth vengefully; his eyes scintillated like those of a cobra. yet he was not in a» When di | “ My man!” he said to himself, clench- | ing his fists with a demoniac glare in his eye. _ Captain Vernon after leaving Mr. Win- throp’s ‘had come to the club with the intention of gambling. He took a seat at the table and commenced to plunge. Appetite grows by ‘what it feeds on. The old stagers who had won from the Count hoped to win more from the English- man, so the band played on. But they were disappointed. Vernon carried everything before him! He was an enormous winner in a couple of hours. Most of the Count’s checks passed to his hands. Di Capri looked on and fumed. It was too much, One by one the gamblers quitted the table and went home, Ver- non had made a fortune. At last only ‘Colonel Castiglione was left, and he threw up the game. Two waiters were present. Suddenly di Capri rushed forward and cried: “My money, you thief! All mine! ” m ’ é‘ ; “My good. fellow,” replied Vernon, “what do you mean? I won it fairly.” “’* You lie in your teeth!’ No nonsense! | Sapristi! I will have your life’s blood! ” iil wR, See — Se
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Charley Vernon rose. His only re- spcuse was to’strike di Capri under the right ear and knock him senseless on the floor. “The crazy fool,’ he muttered, gather- ing up his winnings. “ No man shall eall me a liar.” He quitted the room. Nobody attempt- ed to stop him. Such scenes, unhappily, were of frequent occurrence. Colonel Castiglione was busy attending to his friend, but it was no concern of his. Some time elapsed before di Capri re- covered. There were bedrooms in the club, He was taken to one and a doctor sent for. The advice of the latter was rest for a few days. Three days elapsed. No one seemed to take much interest in di Capri, though he had many professed friends, Castiglione visited him daily, though it was known that he was ruined. The brokers who were in the Palazzo Bomba reported no money in the bank, no world- ly goods. What was to become of him? On the fifth day di Capri was able to sit up and talk. ‘‘ What about that in- fernal Englishman?” he asked Cas- tiglione, who fad dropped in. “He was married yesterday to Miss Winthrop,” was the reply, “and after- ward took train for Genoa with his pride and mother-in-law. From there they will steam to New York, “By heaven! I will follow them! Maladitto! I curse them both!” replied the Count. “You have no money.” “St. Joseph, the guardian of the pen- niless, will help me! I will find enough for that.” “You will be a tramp, then. friends might help you here.” “J have no friends. I will be a sleuth to hunt them down. Revenge is all I want, and by the living God, I will have it if I starve, if I suffer, if I wait years! What is life to me? Revenge! I'll have AL e Carlo Malvini, Count di Capri, meant what he said, and in future had but one purpose in life. Your CHAPTER II. THE ITALIAN’S SON. A. D, 1898. . It is far from Naples to New York Gity, the commercial centre of the Em- pire State of America, but we are there after a lapse of ten years, during which period some events of interest have taken place. Captain Vernon took his young pride, under his mother-in-law’s auspices, to New York and bought a house on Mur- ray Hill, near Fifth Avenue. Here they lived very happily. A child was born. It was a boy, as handsome as his father, and when he was able to toddle about he was beloved by every one. How they dressed him! What a fuss they made over him! Some envious folks said» it was astonishingly absurd; but, after all, it was human nature. What is a woman worth if she cannot love a baby? And the man must follow suit, : The child of whom they were so fond and proud, who was to be wealthy, and, they hoped, famous, was one day missing. This was the story of the nurse who had charge of young Charles Vernon: “Tt was near 12 Sa nt é wishes Master Vernon in his carriage irom Lex- ington Avenue, along HRighty-fifth Street, past Park and Madison to Central Park We had not been Jong inside the Park when a man appeared. He threw some- thing from a bag into my eyes. For a few minutes I could, not see. When I recovered my sight the wagon was empty and the baby gone. ¥ } with a practiced whine. On Land.and Sea. This was the sworn statement. Re- wards were offered and the smartest :de- tectives employed, but no trace of the child could be discovered. ‘ ; Ten years elapsed. The mystery re- mained unsolved. Mr. and Mrs. Vernon traveled around the world. Their union was not blessed by any further offspring. Mrs. Vernon’s heart was sad. There was a void that could not be filled. She was affectionate to her husband. He had nothing to complain of except a lack of sympathy, a weariness, and a far-away look in the eyes instead of a loving one. They settled in New York and went into society. Captain Vernon drove and ran horses at the races. He was a great club man, and his wife was left much’ alone with her mother and friends. The loss of the child had broken their lives. Scmetimes they thought of Carlo Mal- vini, Count di Capri, and his threat, which had been repeated to them. Was he at the bottom of the mystery? It was impossible to tell, for they knew abso- lutely nothing about him. He had dis- appeared from Naples a penniless and ruined man. ° There was not a more palatial resi- dence in the City of New York than that occupied by the Vernons. Everything that money could buy and taste suggest was to be seen. Their friends thought they were happy, but the gaiety was merely veneer, something artificial. They wanted their lost child. Carlo Malvini, Count di Capri, was fully revenged up to date as he had sworn he would be! We have been taking a survey of Cap- tain. Vernon’s surroundings up town, Let us travel down to Crosby Street, in which region Italians are fond of congre- gating. Tenement houses there are full of them, There was a basement or dive in the vicinity of Crosby Street, divided into four rooms and a kitchen. This was rented by Giacomo, who was the proud possessor of an organ, He had a hard- working wife, Anita, and a boy, Paulo, who used to go out in the streets with bare feet, sell boot/laces, matches, any- thing, and beg, saying ‘‘ Porro Italiano ”’ Giacomo took in lodgers. His organ was a source of income, but he was greedy. Giacomo saved. The lodgers were a man who called himself Carlo and kept a fruit stand up town on Third Avenue. He had with him a boy of ten years, who served as his assistant and called him father, To this boy he behaved very cruelly, He beat him constantly, swore at him, and was dreadfully harsh. This boy Marco was a martyr; every one pitied him, but no one interfered. Carlo had a fearful temper and carried a knife. Another lodger was a stout, dark man from Calabria named Corso. He played the piccolo and had a tame monkey. This was the colony: They did well, but they lived high, drank, and spent money. Tt was the month of January. Such a severe Winter had not been known for years. Snow was falling, wind was blow- ing, and the poor Italians who wanted to sell fruit, grind an organ, or play the piccolo with a shivering monkey as an additional attraction had a hard time of it, But in the kitchen—in the under- ground, heated, malodorous den, it was pleasant ‘to those expatriated Italians, ‘They ‘thad partaken of supper and were smoking, while bottles of whisky and aquadiente stood on the table. The boys Marco and Paulo played “craps” in a corner, Cie ; We will glance at the people in the \ 4 8 room. Paulo was an insignificant mite of a thoroughbred mendicant, like his mother, Anita; undersized and attenu- ated, dark hair, olive skin; so was Gia- como, the “organist’”’; so Corso, the flute and monkey fakir. Carlo the fruit vendor, was more distinguished, perhaps he had seen better times. Occasionally, when under the influence of liquor, he boasted that he had noble blood in his veins. Marea was different from all the others. He was quite white when he was washed, which was not often, and he did not look the least bit like an Ital- ian; he spoke English well; so did Carlo, the fruit vendor. Giacomo and Corso spoke broken English, yet made them- understood, Carlo was in bad temper. There was a bear market in fruit. Nobody wanted dates, and figs were at a discount, while half-frozen oranges were a drug: He saw Marco take some bananas from his pocket and share them with Paulo. In a moment he was on his feet. He gave the boy a box on the ears, which sent him rolling half stunned into a cor- ner. “What you wanta to hit the boya for?” asked Giacomo, looking across the table at Carlo. “He is my boy. Why do you inter- fere?’’ was the reply. “If you don’t keep still you will be sorry for it.” “Me no holda my tonga. Your childa! Ha! Ha! Where you get it from? Where your wifa, hey? If you wanta talka, you have it.” Carlo drew a knife from beneath his vest. Giacomo did the same, and shrank into a corner, while Corso was quite neutral. “Tf he is not my child, you do not know where he came from, or who he belongs to,’’ cried Carlo. ‘“‘ Keep your remarks to yourself; if not I will make you,” “You steala that childa! ” “ Liar! He is mine.” The two men edged round the table and met, knife in hand. ! Marco, the boy about whom the dis-> pute was, crept to the door, which was open. He ran out through the corridor, up the steps, and into the snow-clad street. Free, but without a home, and determined never to return to that miser- able den. ; Meantime the struggle between the two Italians became fiercer and flercer, — “Me killa you!” cried Giacomo, ‘mak-= — ing a thrust at his opponent in tierce, Carlo parried it and lunged in carte, They were scientific in fence, these Ital- ians, and understood the art of féncing as well as a Frenchman. The blow de- livered by Carlo struck Giacomo in the arm, who, quick as a flash, lunged his, weapon forward and buried it deep in his antagonist’s breast. \ Carlo fell down, bleeding profusely. “You have done for me,” he said in a low tone, “I don’t blame you, nor am I sorry to leave this miserable ex tence,” * “Tt was not my faulta! ”’ replied Gia- como, alarmed at what he haddone, “YT forgive you. Let me die here. You must fly or they will putjyou in thé chair. You do not want to be’ electrocuted. Where is the boy?” ne “He has gone. Nowhere to be. seena now.” ier Giacomo looked around ' the , room. Anita had fainted in a chair. The imper- | turbable Corso was smoking and nursing the monkey. Co hehe eee “Tf he comes’ back take care of ‘him, but do not’try to make’ him ‘respectable. Send him out to’ thrive, Make of ‘him as I have tried todo.” > q awe ya ee oe ya at A A a Scamp _ ' has pel
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: “You are raving. Try a glass of ‘Drandy.” Giacomo gave him some. A fit of coughing came on, It made the hemor- rhage worse than before and also affect- ed his head, which became light. _“] shall die,” he muttered, “ you have given me my death blow. They will put you in prison, I suppose; in that case you cannot care for and tutor the child. How the time flies. He is,ten this year. “Where you getta the childa?” in- quired Giacomo. “I always think some mystery about thata. Cospetto! You knowa something.” “He is the son and heir of the Ver- nens. I stole him out of revenge. I brought the brat up in a gutter; let him die in one.” “Who are youa?” “ Carlo Malvini, Count di Capri. Before I sold fruit I had that organ Corso now has. I played in front of the house where the Vernons lived. When the woman came out with the baby I followed her to the Park. Then I stole the child. Well do I remember the air I played on the organ. Mamie was at the window, but she didn’t know me. It was ‘The Mother Sought Her Long-Lost Boy and Sovght for Years in Vain, but, Oh! There Came a Happy Time When Those Two Met Again.’ ” A rush of blood nearly ‘choked him, stopping all further utterance. Corso had been listening attentively. The stolen boy, heir of the Vernons? “TI will make money out of this,” he muttered “find the boy heir of the Ver- nons, Then find the mother. I’m on the level.” At this moment two police officers en- tered the room. A prying neighbor had seen what was going on and had sum- moned them. } An ambulance was sent for Carlo Mal- vini, but he died before he got to the hospital. This was the end of the Count di Capri, once famous in Europe. - Gtacomo was arrested. Corso gave evi- dence against him, and he was commit- ted to the Tombs, and afterward received a long sentence for homicide. - Anita and her boy Paulo made the best of it. Paulo was engaged by Corso to mind the monkey. Corso discarded the piccolo and took on the organ. ‘They went all over the city, but could discover no trace of Marco—stolen child, heir of the rich Vernons. What was he? What had become of + |. CHAPTER III. . A BOY OF NEW YORK. - When the stolen boy called Marco, the heir of the Vernons, brought up in a low Italian lodging house, went out into the - snow-covered street on that cold, frosty night, he did not know where to go. He had not a friend in the world. All he wanted was to get away from the _-—-——s—s«* Feeling ttred, cold, and miserable, he gat down on a doorstep in Forsyth ‘Street. Sad to state, he was so low spir- ited and downcast that he did not care _.. what became of him. } he After a while a boy came toward him. __. _He-had some newspapers under his arm ss and _-was evidently going home. A fine, handsome boy of fourteen. “Cheese it,” he whispered, ae night, Look out for yourself.” ~ “a cop’s. On Land and Sea. “That’s what I call cool..: Mind you don’t get pinched and run in. What have you done, sonny?” ek ) “Nothing. It isn’t my fault,” “That’s what we all say when we get into trouble. Speak out. Don’t lie low. I'm a smart boy; they call me_ the ‘Duke,’ because I put on style and can get on quicker than any other young rooster in this city. Who are you?” “JT don’t know, but I’ve been brought up with Italians, and have had to run about with an organ. My name is Marco.” “Pghaw! I-talians ain’t no good. I don’t wonder you had to skip. What was it for?” “They were cutting one another, and I thought it would be my turn next,” “That’s bad. Would you like to come with me, Marco. I could teach you how to make a stamp?” “T should be so glad.” “Tt’s a go,” said the Duke. “You won’t be the first lame dog I have helped and put on his legs.” “How kind of you.” “ Not at all. I’m too smart, greeny, to do anything for nothing. I'll get it all back from you before long. Jump up. We must skip.” The Duke took him by the hand, helped him up, and they walked away together. They had not far to walk. The Duke took his new-found friend down a base- ment. In the kitchen was seated an elder- ly Jew, grizzled and lantern-jawed, but having the eyes of a lynx. The house belonged to him, and was always filled with lodgers. He was unmarried and a miser. People who knew him said that he was a large owner of real estate. There were two bedrooms in the base- ment adjoining the kitchen, one for him- self and the other for his lodgers. The Duke was one and the second was a thin-visaged lad nearly sixteen, whose name was Marly, commonly called the Commodore. The Jew, was Ikey Mo. He bought stolen property. The Duke and the Commodore were in the habit of ap- propriating other people’s property when they had a chance. In fact, they wera pickpockets. Carlo had wandered into a den of thieves. This he had to find out. At present all was new to him, “A friend of mine,” exclaimed the “he will sleep with Marly and me.” “ Vat does he know?” asked Ikey Mo. “Nothin’ jes now, but he’s willin’ to learn, I guess. He’s got the makin’ of a | bunko man in him.” “Tf you will answer for him, I guess it is all right. We don’t want to back wrong uns.” “ Nit. He’s on the level.” “Vell, I take your vort for it, mein tear poy. It is all the petter if it vas so. Ve can do mit him.” Carlo was gratified to think that he had found a shelter, and did not stop to think what sort of a place he had got into. The Duke had not told him what }, his avocation was. He had never been taught to thieve, and had his ideas of right and wrong, though his education was of the most meagre description. He could read and write and sum a little, but not much of that. The three boys had supper together. It consisted of the commonest bread and hard cheese. Ikey Mo went out. He was in the habit of visiting a neighboring saloon, Here he met several men to whom he advanced small loans of money at exorbitant interest. ; When he was gone, the Duke winked —oeeeeeeeeeeaooOoOooooooooomommmmQQ®@QaaoaOonmnmnuququqQquqqqeeeeeeeeeeeeaaoooooee eee his eye, went to a cupboard, and brought out a bag he had hidden away. From it he produced some delicacies, such as canned salmon, lobster, corned beef, and rolls. They were soon enjoying it all. ““Where you’se get that?” asked the Commodore. “ On de east side. I didn’t ask de grocer de price, for he had his back turned. Our old sheeny boss don’t feed us tov well. Consider that what we do for him might land us on de island. Have a ‘cigarette? I’se got a drop of de ole stuif in de bag.” He produced a packet of caporal and a small bottle of whisky. The two boys smoked and drank, but Marco refused to join them. “You’se got to learn something,” laughed the Duke. “I am goin’ ter take yer up to der Tenderloin district termor- rer and you must know de ropes or yer won’t be able ter swipe a lady’s purse when she’s peeping inter a shop winder.” The talk was almost incomprehensible to Carlo, but the truth began to dawn upon him. He had met with thieves- They were worse than the Italians. His soul revolted, for his gentlemanly in- stinct warned him that he had strayed into a bad crowd. He kept his ears open, and his tongue quiet. If the boys went about with a few newspapers or boot | laces to sell, it was only a blind. After supper they played cards until they were tired, when they retired to rest. It was 2 o’clock before Ikey Mo left his boon companions, staggered into his basement, and went to bed. Breakfast was ready early in the morn- ing. Marly went out, coming back with some eggs, bacon, and a packet of cocoa. “T’m going over to Brooklyn,” re- marked Manly. “Marco and I will go up town,” said the Duke. “Commodore can work his racket; we will do ours. I'll teach the greenhorn how to swipe a purse.” » Marco’s suspicions were aroused by these words. When he and the Duke reached the corner of Houston Street and Broadway, ‘Marco made a rush for liberty, but his companion seized him by the arm. “What's yer game?” he cried. “ Yer don’t play yer tricks low down on me.” “T won’t be a thief! ” replied Marco. “You young fraud, are you going back on me; I'll knife you!” “Lemme go. I ain’t hurting you.” ~ “Der’s too much of de monkey about you. I ain’t goin’ to part like dis. You’se got ter come along or I'll push you under de cable car, sure.” Marco struggled. He wrenched his arm away and darted across the broad thor- oughfare. A rush of vehicles intervened to prevent . the Duke from following, and the boy wa. lost to sight He did not stop until he reached Wash- ington Square, where he sat down and rested. He was adrift again. The sound of an organ in South Fifth Avenue caught his ear. Surely he knew the tune it was grind- ing forth. He walked toward it. In front of a stately mansion of the old style was Corso, playing the old air, “The Mother Boy.” The monkey was perched on the organ, a gray-haired, sad-visaged lady was 100 tening. Sought Her Long-Lost king out of an open window lis- Paulo was sick with the fever and could not come out with the monkey. The latter knew Marco directly he saw — him, and making two or three leaps and bounds jumped upon his shoulder and _ began to pat his ear, gee .- -<
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“ Poor little man,” said Marco, “ knows me.” Corso, missing his ape, turned quickly and saw Marco. “Hi! Come here. Venit, amico mio! Aa! He is off, Santa Maria, he taka the monka with him!” Corso exclaimed. It was useless to attempt to follow un- less he abandoned his organ. _ “Diavolo!' That was bada lucka,” he continued. . The lady seated at the window beck- oned to him and he went nearer the basement railing. Taking off his cap, he held it out for the nickel he expected to receive. To his intense surprise, the lady pre- sented him with a bright silver dollar. “Mucha gracios, lady,” he _ said. “ Porro Italiano thanka you.” “How long have you had that organ, my man?, I ask for a special reason. Some years ago a man played the air you have just finished, and I have every reason to believe that he stole my child.” Corso’s heart gave a big leap. “Whata your nama?” he asked, “ Vernon,” was the reply. Through the organ he had found the mother of Marco, and the lad, strange to say, had only a minute before been with- in his grasp. “ What you paya for me to finda your boya?” asked Corso. “Five thousand dollars. he “ How you knowa him.” “ By a peculiar mark on his left foot,” replied Mrs. Vernon. “Me finda. Me finda,” shouted Corso, delighted. .““ A fortune fora me at lasta.” Marco and the monkey had vanished in the square, and in that direction the Italian organ grinder followed. CHAPTER IV. ae FORTUNE SMILES ON THE BOY OF NEW YORK. Marco, with the monkey on his shoul- ae der, swiftly ran away from the itinerant aed ‘musician Corso. He knew the streets of the great city very well, and was used ey to dodging in and out. The monkey was perfectly at ease with him, because he WARE C had always been kind to the animal, WE As he strolled up town along Sixth Avenue, ladies with children stopped to iook at the monkey. Marco held out his cap, muttering, “ Porro Italiano. Verra aR pcora, lady. Giva penna for buya ( breada,” and he was given money. A nickel he expended for peanuts, which Jocko ate greedily, chattering his thanks. At Thirty-fourth Street and Herald Square Marco stopped, and, feeling in hhis pocket, counted his money. He reck- oned that he was a capitalist to the ex- tent of seventy-five cents, and he en- tered a near-by restaurant to get a cup > wee, of. coffee. a i Me Here, to his alarm, he was confronted page ee by the Duke, who was eating a lunch. ™“ This young man caught him by the arm and exclaimed, with a grin: “ Oh, ain’t this jis’ boss. I didn’t think I’d have the pleasure of meeting you so goon. Ye’r quite a stranger. It was ss wrong of you ter give me the slip, meer ; I loves yer as a brother.” “Hate me like poison, you mean, ” re- ioe ti - plied the boy. “You only pretend to o>.” Spe my ‘frien f ey iia y. \Y bs CO you are with your Italian _ pals again. The Dagos have semt you "ss @ut with a monkey,” continued — the eM ‘Duke. “Very kind of them, sure. Come. i) along... We'll improve: the hour, like the Pome Sittle: busy bee.” peta How 25-1 ‘what way?” asked Marco. Paes “You srenieag it am iin ath ROBES, hse MEA on ; a a a oe as ca On Land and Sea. and sing a bit. While you’re attracting a crowd I’ll swipe the ladies’ purses.” “And ‘leave me to be arrested. No, thank you.” “What, you ungrateful cur! You re- fuse' me,” cried the Duke. ‘“ Didn’t I pick you up out of the gutter and give yer a home? Oh! I won’t do a thing to you,” he added, as he raised his fist to strike Marco. The monkey saw the movement and flew at the Duke, clawing and biting him until he was covered with blood. Marco ran to Third Avenue, and, tak- ing a car, went to Harlem. He crossed the river and overtook a funeral car- riage, preceded by a hearse. This con- tained a small casket. In the coach was a lady. He concluded that she was going to a child’s funeral. He had an instinct to follow it; he did so, going after the carriage at a sharp pace. The sky became overcast; it was dull and cloudy. A drizzling rain began to fall. The cemetery was reached. The hearse and the carriage slowed up and entered the gates. A little grave had been dug near the chapel. The lady alighted. It seemed odd that she should be alone. Tears were flowing from her eyes. The coffin was put in the grave. ashes to ashes, dust to dust. On the plate of the casket Marco read, “ Hans Vandeveger, age 10.” Why, he knew not, Marco began to cry. He didn’t know the dead boy, nor had he ever seen the lady before. Yet all his sympathy went out to her. The grave was filled up. The diggers went away. The lady and Marco were alone. The hearse had departed. In the roadway stood the waiting coach. Drizzle, drizzle the thin rain came down. A white mist arose. The lady clasped her*hands and bowed her head, She was praying. When she looked up Mareo. He was a bright, handsome boy. “ How like my lost treasure,” she mut- tered, advancing to Marco. ‘ Who are you, little fellow, and what brings you here? ”’ “Mine is a long story, ma’am,” an- swered Marco, “ but I will tell it to you if you wish.” “ Are you alone in the world—a waif— a stray?” “T have none to care for and nobody to care for me. Oh! lady, if you can help me, do so. I was thinking I should like to be in’ that newly filled grave.” The lady was a widow. Mrs. Vande- veger, rich and handsome. Her husband had been a merchant in the West India trade when he died. All her affection was centred on her child, Hans, who died suddenly of pneumonia. It happened, singularly enough, that Marco bore a strong resemblance to her child, who had just been laid to rest. She asked him to come into the coach, she noticed intelligent, -tell her his story, and have tea with her at her house in West. Fifty-ninth Sireet. This he was only too glad to do. They entered the carriage, and were driven from the cemetery to the fashion- able part of the city, In a simple, pathetic way Marco nar- rated his life tale, as far as he knew it. He only remembered being brought up in a Crosby Street dive by Italians, though there was a shadowy remem- -brance of a sunny Jand and the touch of a mother’s hand. : “You shall never go back to those bad | people, if you will let me adopt you es want to be a mother to you. All the my own,” said Mrs. Vandeveger. Weentorts that es can Bi shall be Wa Sig Nh 9 RES ‘last. new life began for her busting, and her — ae 5. bat Will you fill the place of my dead’ oy?” “Do you really mean it, madam?” in- quired Marco, He was incredulous at this good — fortune, “As God hears me, I do,” Mrs, Vande- veger replied, Marco cuddled up close to her and kissed her hand. She pressed him to. her bosom and repeatedly kissed him. It was a bargain. He was adopted. She bad found a son and he a mother. When they reached her house she told the servants that he was to take the Place of her son. He was treated with the utmost civility and greatest consid- eration. A private tutor was engaged for ‘him. He was dressed elegantly and taken out driving every day. A strong affection sprang up between them. In this way a month elapsed. * One afternoon Mrs. Vandeveger said: Marco, I want you to look your best to-day. My dearest friend, Mrs. Vernon, is Soins to tea,” “Yes, mamma,” answered Mar will try to be all you wish me,” eT ; “You are a little gentleman now, you” know; do not talk of your antecedents.” “I was told to keep that a secret, and I will.” It was, indeed, singular. Mrs. Vande- veger’s particular friend was Mrs. Ver- non, and Mrs. Vernon was Marco’s moth- er, who was seeking her lost child, Mother and son were going to meet face to face that day, and yet neither — knew the other or was likely to do so under existing circumstances, Mrs, Vernon arrived. She was pale, thin, statuesque, but still beautiful. After greeting her hostess, she was shown the adopted child. An electric thrill ran through her slender form, Why she knew not. , The boy had a strange fascination for her. When she heard how he was found — she was greatly interested and felt con- . strained to tell Mrs, Vandeveger how — she had lost a child and her es had . been broken ever since. Val Gradually she began to ask questions. 4 Mrs. Vandeveger relaxed her rule | ea silence and allowed him to answer. | “His is a wonderful story,” she re marked. “In fact, quite romantic and — worth listening to. I told him to keep Ee it a secret, but I do not mind Bee Bar ing it, my dear.” Mrs, Vernon took the boy on her k and he told her all about himself a he could remember, As he pert ‘on there was a suspicion in her nd that he was her long-lost child. Bs eee His connection with the Italians tend if ed to corroborate her fancy. igi ae one proof. : The birthmark, to which we nage Bree viously alluded. Mrs. Vernon in Vandeveger what she imagined, and — i begged plaintively to be allowed to ex~ amine young Marco, which was _froelyy, accorded, 5+ ee ie The mark was there! | No ae ged She clasped him in.her arms, erying | hysterically: ‘My child! My child! | “My long-lost darling. Oh, God! how good of Thee. My prayers are BnEWered: at last.” my Mrs, Vandeveger was deeply ‘grieved EG to part with her adopted pet. but dees was no help for it. he The mother ar found her child at She took him home. ‘with her, and. a self.” ay Sghes 44 : hye era's oN Bere PON | at y ae ; eA € aligcng' 73 - da Bhd wR a
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f CHAPTER V. THR NEXT LINK IN THE VENDETTA. Carlo Malvini, who had come to such a miserable death at the hands of Gia- como in a low part of New York, had four brothers. By chance one of them, named Iago, saw an account of his murder in an Ital- . jan paper, which had translated it from an American. . He was living in Rome. At once he n° summoned the other three brothers. pt They met. ia and his restoration to the Vernons was told in the paper. The three brothers, by name Giuseppe, Faroni, ‘and Adrain, listened to their elder relation, now Count di Capri. It was decided that he should go to America and carry on the vendetta. If he failed to obtain revenge and came to an untimely end, Giuseppe swore to take up the vendetta, and after him Faroni and Adrain, if necessary. Thus is a vendetta carried out through ae a whole family, and sometimes through ye generations. Giacomo was in prison. It bi * was not him they intended to injure, but Mr. and Mrs. Vernon and their son Henry, formerly known as Marco. When Iago Malvini, Count di Capri, arrived in New York to carry out his part of the vendetta, he stayed at the Plaza Hotel, near the park. His object was to find out all he could about Captain and Mrs. Vernon and their newly recovered boy, Harry. This was not a difficult thing to do. Their name was in the directory, and Tae they moved in the best society. Yo thoroughly hide his deadly intent he changed his name to Colonel Monico. in In order to avoid personal trouble, he engaged a clever American as his guide and agent. Pus This man’s name-was Tony Fish. Al- though only thirty years of age, he had traveled all over Europe as a courier, : and spoke seven different languages. ne He had been an actor and a private ss detective. In fact, there was very little CaN Mg ae Fish ie not know or could _ Golonel Monico, as we shall henceforth a ‘call him, placed the utmost confidence in his agent from the beginning. He told him everything about the vendetta, and the American agreed to serve him, as ne: was to be well paid. ne as Fish set out to glean all the in- he could respecting the Ver- : Ns ‘Several. days after a arrived at the. za to report progr ne ‘Monico was a a his cigar the: hotel after breakfast when t 006 Pedpriing, colonel,” said Tony rhose eyes always sparkled with uaa morning,” replied Monico. (secant any news?” it will Priecett you,” ana ared the secret srr us take a walk in the park. We Gi heel into the park. Re eye: gf one Tony Fish had n Vernon and his wife did not er. He was often ab- ent home, being devoted to sport ‘ "all Minds, especially that ae horse rac- was also a great card ‘man he a rg, Vernon loyed her child dearly | The. story of the boy Marco | “Yes, sir; all I can gather, and think | can “alk there without any fear of being | Si side they crossed the plaza and - a feat tutor for te : On Land and Sea. whose name was Hicks. With her ‘son Harry by her side'she seemed ’ to live a new life. As they walked along the main drive the colonel was plunged in deep thought. “T have acquainted you with the ‘sit- uation,’ said Tony Fish; “it remains for you to act.” ’ : “ You know my secret,” replied Colonel Menico, “ And I will keep it implicitly.” “Can I trust you further?” “With your life.” “T am a_ Coriscan,” continued — the colonel, “and have come here to avenge my brother’s wrongs. It is a vendetta, and I have three brothers who will fol- low it up if I fail.” “You will succeed, if I am not mis- taken.” “What is your advice?” “This,” replied Fish. “I shall attack the father and mother through the son.” “That is what my brother, the Count di Capri, did.” : “He was right; if aught befalls the boy a second time the mother will die of grief, and, from what I can see of Captain Vernon, he will drink himself to death.” “In that case, I shall kill the three at one blow.” “Certainly. But you'll find it difficult to get at the boy.” “Why so?” asked the colonel, “He is guarded day and night, In the daytime his tutor, Mr. Hicks, is gen- erally with him; if not, he is accom- panied by a tall, athletic boy of about sixteen, named Tom Ludlow, who is his particular chum and lives next door to him.” “ At taken?” “A stalwart negro named Pompey sleeps outside his bedroom door, armed with a revolver.” The colonel reflected a moment. He was evidently developing an idea. “JT must become a friend of the fam- ily,” he said, “That is next to impossible,” an- swered the agent, “e Why? ” “ Captain and Mrs. Vernon detest for- eigners.” “ Indeed.” “ Bspecially Italians.” “Ah, they have not forgotten my brother, the Count di Capri.” “What will you do with the boy if you get him away?” inquired Fish. “JT have not decided,’ answered the colonel. “Shall I advise you again?” “ By all means; your brain is fertile.” “T have a friend who is the keeper of a lighthouse off the coast of Maine. If you can get the boy on board a schoon- er which will convey him to the Black Rock Lighthouse, my friend Grimes will settle the rest.’ “Murder him, do you mean? be “We won’t quarrel about terms.” “Will he never be heard of again?” “ Never in this world.” “ Are you acquainted with an owner of a schooner who would carry out our rpose? ” “TJ know one well.” night what precautions are fe “Can he be trusted in this sevienea’ business?” — “Money will keep his mouth shut, +i rejoined Tony Fish. “Then I will storm the stronghold. «, _ At this juncture the two men were startled by the sound of horses poten: wildly, ing w This was. followed by a ebianctia ey. React ened fe ntl « ng, A victoria. drawn by two handsome bays was rapidly approaching them. They had run away and the driver had been thrown from his seat. Inside were seated a lady and a youth. The shrill whistles of the park keepers weve heard. There was imminent danger of the car- riage being smashed to pieces if a col- lision occurred. If this happened the. lady and the boy would be injured, perhaps fatally. Like a knight errant of the olden times the colonel dashed forward. Without showing a symptom of fear he stood in the middle of the road. As the horses approached they swerved slightly. This was thé colonel’s op- portunity. With bravery beyond praise ‘| he jumped for the nearest horse, throw- ing his left arm around its neck, while with his free hand he fired his revolver full at the maddened brute. It was not his intention to kill the horse, but simply to stun it by creasing, at which he was an expert, having often performed the wonderful feat in his native land. This cuts the upper mus- cles of the neck, and stuns but does not kill. At the report of the pistol the horse reared and fell, bringing its mate and the vehicle to a standstill. Mrs. Vernon had swooned away during the excitement; but even before the vic- toria came to a stop Harry had taken his mother in his arms and leaped to the ground. Young as he was, he was en- dcwed with marvelous strength. His constant practice in the gymnasium had ~ developed his muscles greatly, and made them as tough as steel. Restoratives were quickly applied to Mrs, Vernon, and after a few minutes she was herself again. Seeing the colonel, who luckily had not received a scratch, standing modestly near, she approached him, and, extend- ing her hand, exclaimed: Ai thousand thanks, dear sir?. can I ever show my gratitude?” “ By saying nothing about it,” replied the colonel, bowing politely. am How “ At least do me the favor to call upon me at my home,” handing him a card. The colonel glancing at it, placed it in his pocket. By this time the horses were again upon their feet, not much the worse for their fall. They were sent home, Mrs. Vernon not caring to risk her life’ again behind the same team, Another carriage was procured, and Harry and his mother drove home, ‘again if extending to the colonel a pressing invi- tation to call at their mansion. Then the colonel rejoined his com- | panion and continued his walk, “That was pluckily and cleverly “done. By Jove, I never saw anything like it. I thought you had killed the horse,” ee marked Tony Fish. “It was easy enough,” replied te ' colonel. cavalry service of Italy. There isn’t — much about horses I don’t know, and I never saw the horse yet I couldn’t con- quer. The shooting—creasing, called—is the last resort to subdue a _| maddened brute. If properly done it only _ stuns, I have done it many times in the army.” “Tt was certainly a wonderful shot,” — Fish declared. “By the way, did notice the name on the card the lady — gave you?” “TI did not take the trouble to look at it,” replied the colonel. “Tt might be an to good society.” | ORE bah esr ea ox mel took it, and, without _ “T was for twenty years in the © it tis introduetion for PO : ‘
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On Land and Sea. ° lows passed, as if they were following the one that had preceded them. They had villainy plainly stamped upon their features, which were hard and weatherbeaten. | “It occurs to me,” remarked the colo- nel, “that those men mean to rob the stranger who has gone ahead.” “That is his business, not ours,’ re- turned Tony Fish, coolly. “If we inter- fered on every body’s behalf we should have enough to do.” '‘*T can’t stand by and see any one maltreated. Follow me. I rely upon your help, and the stranger shall have mine.” They ran as fast as they could in the direction taken by the unknown. All at once they heard a ery for help. Around in a corner they saw a man struggling with two assailants. It was the tall stranger, who was be- ing attacked by the two tramps, one of whom was armed with a small sandbag, the other with a bludgeon. He defended himself strongly and vig- ously with his fists, Had not assistance been at hand he would have been severely injured and robbed. At this critical moment Colonel Monico stabbed one of the ruffians in the arm with his stiletto. The other received a kick and a blow in the back from Tony Fish which sent him scampering off as fast as he could, followed quickly by his ‘companion. The gentleman’s coat was torn, and he had received several bruises about the face and body. Picking up his hat, “As a key''to the door of ‘the Ver- fr nons.” J “That did not strike me.” “Look at the card,’ persisted the agent, Colonel Monico did so. He started, and his face colored with excitement. “By Jove,” he exclaimed. ‘‘ The very - person Wwe were speaking about, Mrs, Captain Vernon! ” The agent looked surprised. Then he burst into a laugh. “What are you grinning at?” cried ' the colonel, in a snappish manner. “Tt is a pity you stopped that horse,” answered Tony Fish. “So it is, when I come to think of it.’ “Tf you had let the horses alone Mrs. Vernon and her boy might have been in eternity by this time.” “Confound the luck! ” “Ah! Ha!” laughed Tony Fish; “You have saved the cub’s life when you wanted. to destroy it.” The colonel stamped his foot angrily. “Do you want to madden me?” he asked, “ By no means; only the days of chiv- alry are over, and there is no room for a new Don Quixote to revive them, and, if I mistake not, the Don was a Spanish » fool, not an Italian one.” The blood of the di Capri rose in the ' ~*~ golonel’s veins; it mounted to his head? He could not bear being spoken to in this flippiant manner by an _ inferior, _ whom he paid for his services, _ “How dare you talk to me in that way!” he cried. The secret agent was taken aback in ” he * cordially 1 0 alarm. thanked Colonel Monico for his timely WN) ‘He knew the fiery nature of the Cor- | interference. at sican he had to deal with. “You have rendered me great sery- ihe Colonel Monico always carried a stil- | ice,” he exclaimed. “I cannot stay to “ieee etto concealed about his person. thank you, as I ought to do, as I am in a q"" As we have said, they were in a very | a great hurry to keep a pressing en- gagement.” “My dear sir, I require no thanks,” answered Monico. “Indeed, you do, and you shall not find me ungrateful. You have risked your life for mine,” “Tt was nothing. I am an old soldier.” “And I, too; that is a bond of union between us.” “Esprit de corps for ever.” “Pray accept my card.” The stranger handed him a gilt-edge piece of pasteboard, bearing his name and address, and with a polite bow has- tened away. he ‘lonely portion of the park. OW ak: “TI did not mean any offense,” ex- er |S Fionn _ claimed Tony Fish. oH “Beware how you insult me,”) replied the colonel. ‘Keep your place; you are my paid servant. I hire you.” In his turn Fish became nettled. “T have a right to speak, I suppose, as well as you,” he said, “Not to me. I am your master and you my serf,” hissed the colonel. . As he spoke the colonel raised his hand to give him a blow in the face. _ With the dexterity of a Western man _ Fish pulled out his revolver. . At the same moment the Italian drew his ‘stiletto. . Only a few feet separated them, one from another. “Look here,” said Fish, “my gun is as good as your bodkin; if you can stab I can shoot.” Colonel Monico saw the force of this remark. He smiled in a sickly manner. For once in his life he had met his - match. : “Shall we call it square?” asked the agent. “With the greatest pleasure in the world,” answered the Italian, dissem- bling. - “T have no_ hostility against one - eontinued Tony Fish. “Why should you? friend and patron?” “Yes,” said Fish, with a comical look, _ “but you are ugly at times.” ‘They shook hands and replaced their weapons, and resumed their walk. | When near the Ramble a tall, -well- _ dressed, gentlemanly looking man "passed ; _ them at a rapid pace. si ‘Soon sates two ieoeancioting tel- tricacies of the park. ' “By George,” said Fish, “you are quite a hero. Where are you going to stop?” “That is for fate to say, not I, This sort of thing is interesting tome. Your replied the colonel. “Who is your new friend?” The colonel had put the card in his pocket without looking at it, in his cus- tomary careless manner. When he looked at it and read the name and address he could not help smil- ing. “Per Baccho! ” he cried, “ events mul- tiply themselves quickly. ” “How is that?” inquired Tony Fish. “This man is no other than Captain Vernon.” “ How lu ‘arouh whole family, father, mother and son, from what woud have her in ge Ppa ability certain death.” ¥. “That is so.” bods “Do you not think it is bok time tp uy ‘ia Feat oy nang, “whieh you Am I not your City of New York is full of adventure,” He was soon lost to sight in the in-— You have ; ou have saved the ‘Lam going sailing some day this ‘reek ae i so lavishly to suffering human+ ty. xj ‘Quite. I shall do no more, My work would have been ended almost as soon as it began, and the vendetta fully sat-': isfied, if I had not interfered in what did not concern me.” “It has opened the door of the house to you, however.” “ That is one thing gained, I admit.” “You can pursue your plans to more advantage, because’ the Vernons will never dream you intend to injure them.” a The campaign shall begin to-mor- rew’ The colonel spoke firmly and deci- . sively. * The blood feud was about commencing, r, and Harry Vernon was to be the first victim of the cruel vendetta. , CHAPTER VI, HARRY I8 LURED TO A LIGHTHOUSE, Colonel Monico lost no time in visiting | Captain and Mrs. Vernon at their fash- ionable up-town residence. He was made a friend of the house at once, and he went out driving with Mrs, Vernon and her son and accompanied the cap- ' )) tain to his club. 5 wae He had established a claim on their 4 gratitude, and no one had the least sus- saan picion that he entertained any sinister , | design against the boy Harry, . a We are wrong. » Ot Oe There was one exception. Ay This was Pompey, the big negro whom we have mentioned as his pike ae dian at night. eS Sa He distrusted the Italian. ‘ When quite young he had been ni Naples with Mrs, Vernon, acting as / cap cca fellow. Hae 0 As for Harry, he took more oie vee him than he did of his own father, It had only taken ‘six weeks for nel Monico to establish this amount of Wage confidence. Harry was allowed to walk o him, and his friend Tom was ne; YB ty The colonel had played his game w . and thought the time had wr: for to strike a blow. One morning the colonel t Vernon to the small, but — pleasure ship. They had lunch on sone little sail up the bay beyond rows. _ “ How do you like the sea?” or colonel, as they were going home, — “Very much, indeed,” replied “Those in confinement,” remar colonel, “ experience a sense of freec in contemplating the vast. Lagos ocea 4g “it ‘is little freedom I get,” A rn v Why not take a holiday. ‘with said Monico. “Tam tired of the life I Tead epliec the boy wearily. — Be Ve he _ “How is that?” ee “They guard me ree closely. . ay pin
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On Land and Sea. . —— a, , never allowed to be alone as other boys are,” “That is bad.” The colonel pretended to sympathize with him, Harry was impulsive and easily led. “Do not say anything about my ship and I will take you for a voyage,” an- swered Colonel Monico. * “That would be a real pleasure. Then I must not say a word to any one about our trip.” “Tf you do, it will ruin all, because you will not be allowed to go.” . “My mother and father, will they be pleased?” asked Harry, thoughtfully. “You are old enough to have a little fun, When you are on board, and we are about to start, I will send your par- ents a teleg.am which will reassure their minds.” “That will do. cause them any trouble. we be gone ?” “We will start early in the morning and return at dark.” “That will do nicely,” said Harry Ver- non. “My mother will go mad if I am - out all night.” “What makes them guard you so closely?”’ asked the colonel. “JT was stolen when quite a child by some Italians who had a grude against ty father and mother, and they fear the Italians will come after me again.” “It was well to be on the safe side, but Jet me ask you a question: How is it they are not afraid of me? I am an Italian.” “You are so good; brave,” replied the boy. _ be afraid of you.” The colonel/smiled sardonically. ‘Tam glad you have such a good opin- ion of me,” he exclaimed. “J am sure you would not hurt a fly,” _ continued the boy. He was completely deceived in his false friend’s character. Before they parted at the door of his home the colonel told him to prepare himself for his trip at nine o’clock the next morning. He was told to meet him at the cor- ner of the street, and he was to be alone. oe + Sverything worked well for the suc- bells a cess of the colonel’s plot. , find watchfulness of the house had - been relaxed since he had been in the t of visiting it. Vernon was confined to her room an a attack of /influenza, The captain was buying houses in Balt ape and Mr. Hicks, the tutor, had i to see some friends in Boston. Mey Ludlow, although living next - door, did not see so much of his friend K ‘Harry as usual. He had formed new aequaintasices since the colonel had tak- oF en up with the boy. Pompey, however, always faithful, re- Pcesee: true to his post. In the morning after breakfast, of ae he partook with his mother, Harry ‘Peon f ed himself in a room which had fitted up for him as a gymnasium. i et Phe past eight. IT should not like to How long shall so generous; “No one would AY | keeping rd eye upon him, ~The watel and spying to which he was. cons eh bari 0 iy “What do you want up here?” he asked. “ Have 9 you not something to do bp Stairs ‘porte ae. hic al ‘the ne- ly subjected had ‘begun to gro. “Me gwine to look after you to- day, as everybody else am away.” “T don’t want anybody to look after me. I am old enough to take care of myself,” Pompey shook his head. “Too many Italians about,” he re- marked. Seeing that it would be difficult to get rid of Pompey, Harry determined to be artful. “Go around to the shop on the avenue where I buy my dumbbells and other things, and pring me a heavier pair than these.” “ All right, Massa Harry. You'll be a strong man some day.” The negro was completely thrown off his guard. He did not anticipate any sharp prac-~ tice on the boy’s part. When he was gone Harry smiled and rubbed his hands with glee, “JT have played ’possum with him, as he calls it,” he said, “and now I will be off.” Letting himself out noiselessly at the front door, Harry walked to the corner of the street, where he found Colonel Monico waiting his arrival with a han- som, into which they both got and were driven to the South Ferry. In due course they boarded the yacht, which was named the Seagull, and Harry was conducted below. In the saloon stood Tony Fish, dressed in nautical costume. : “This is Mr. Fish, my captain,” ex- claimed the colonel. “Sit down to lunch and excuse my ab- sence. In a few minutes I will rejoin you. ” Saying this he went on deck. Harry and the secret agent faced one another at the table, which was spread with all the delicacies of the season. Fully twenty minutes elapsed and the colonel did not make his appearance. Harry had eaten sufficient and laid down his knife and fork. The time had passed rapidly, for Fish kept on talking about sea life, and the adven- tures he had met on board ship, for among his other accomplishments Fish was a good sailor and had visited other lands. “I guess we won’t wait for the colo- nel,” he said. “ Let us go on deck.” They did so. To Harry’s surprise the vessel was already under way. They were passing the Narrows. The Seagull was bounding along with ‘a rush and a swirl before a spanking breeze. Two sailors ‘were to be seen, one coiling a rope amidship, the other standing at the wheel. Colonel Monico was nowhere to be seen. ’ Mainsail, topsail, and jib were set, with a couple of sky scrapers. The man amidship advanced, touching his cap respectfully. “The Commodore, Colonel Mcinco,” he exclaimed, “had to go ashore in re- sponse to a telegram, and will not be able to sail to-day, though he hopes the young gentleman will enjoy himself all the same with you Captain Fish.” “Ts that so?” asked the agent. “He will , meet us: this evening when wé go back. " oh, Seal, it doesn’t’ matter; Master Vernon and I will contrive to get on without him.” The man touched his cap again and — went on with his work. Harry was disappointed, as he did not like to lose the society of the colonel. At the same time he did not suspect eek he was in any mens hii aes The sea air was, invigorating, and he did not feel any weariness until they were out of sight of land, when inward qualms caused him some discomfort. This was the harbinger and beginning of seasickness; it was his first trip on the ocean, and he had not anticipated this distressing sensation. “TI think,” he said in a shaky voice, “that we had better turn back, and I should like to lie down.” “Dinner is waiting for us below,” re- plied Tony Fish. “Don’t ask me to eat anythite: I feel dreadfully sick.” “You will be better presently, This is your first voyage and you haven’t found your sea legs yet.” Harry staggered and would bave fallen had not Fish caught his siender form in his arms. The agent carried him below, and placed him on a berth in a state- room. Then he went into the saloon and sat down to dinner, being waited upon by a colored man, who was both cook and steward. . “T reckon he’s elected,” said Fish to himself with a ludicrous grin. “He won’t want to.move again until we are off the coast of Maine, if he does then.” Fish was right in his conjecture. Harry got worse instead of better. The only nourishment he could take was a little beef tea and brandy, and that did not remain long on his stomach. After twenty-four hours he became light- headed and did not know where he was. When they arrived off the lighthouse of which Fish’s friend was the keeper he was put into a boat and rowed to the Black Rock, This jutted out into the ocean and was not visible from the land even on the clearest day. The Rock was dark and forbidding, covered with seaweed and barnacles, and swept by the sea in stormy weather. It had a revolving light and a storm signal bell. Its tenants were two men, both old sailors, one being named Grimes and the other Horner, the former being the master. And they were only visited once a month by a coast guard steamer which brought them provisions and supplies. Almost insensible, Harry was carried. into the lighthouse and received by the two men, who put him on a bed of junk -and old sacks. Tony Fish did not stay long. He spoke a few words to Grimes, gave him a sum of money and returned to the yacht. The Seagull at once sailed back to New York. Harry Vernon was left to recover as best he could. He had now to experi- ence what life in a lighthouse was like, It was his ocean prison, Well indeed had Colonel Monico laid his plans, and thoroughly had the ge- cret agent carried them out, CHAPTER VIE ye 7". CONSTERNATION OF THE VERNONS, - On the morning of the day that saw Harry Vernon enticed away his mother” was well enough to descend to the draw- ; ing room. A telegram from Captain Vernon informed him that he should be back in an hour or so. It wag, about 11 o’clock when Colonel ‘Monico rang the bell and was admitted. As he walked across the*hall to the drawing room he passed FOmn ey: and Tom Ludlow. These two were conversing earnestly gr te faces wore a Mepnelers
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1" - Harry had told him of his career, aS a_ poor boy, secured the police to make in- 4 -quiries in the Italian quarter for Corso Ri _ toration of his son. ¢ i a } 4 - A | Fr expression, as if something had occurred to vex and startle them. They regarded him with suspicious glances. He know at once that they had discovered that Harry was missing. The colonel was ushered into Mrs. Vernon’s presence, who received him with an affable smile. “ Good-morning, colonel, ” she ex- claimed; “ you are kind to come and see us so often.” “T shall be going away for a short time soon, as I have business in Wash- ington to attend to.” “ How much we shall miss your agree- ‘able society.” “Thank you. As you are not well, I will, if you please, take Harry out for a drive, It will be the last time I shall have an id= abated of doing so. Where is he?” UREN ROC seen him since break- fast,” replied Mrs. Vernon. At this moment the door opened with- out any announcement, and Pompey en- tered, followed by Tom Ludlow. “Oh, mam,” cried the negro, “ some- thin’ dre’ful must have happened! ” _ “Tn heaven’s name, what is it?” de- mapded Mrs. Vernon. Her face assumed an anxious expression and her heart palpitated violently. “Massa Harry,’ replied the negro, “been done gone and vanished!” “ Are you sure? ” “T leab him in the gymnasium, for he ssend me on an errand, an’ when I come tback he not dar. I search ebery where and Massa Tom, too. We not able to find him.” Mrs. Vernon uttered a loud shriek; she rose from the sofa pale as death. The colonel stretched out his hand to support her. As he did so Captain Ver- non rushed in. He had just arrived and had learned the news of his son’s disap- AL pearance from the servant. The utmost consternation and confu- gion reigned in the house. He Detectives were sent for, and a search 4 emade in all directions. a =. "A ‘dhe + But of course Harry was not to be ound. oh No one appeared more distressed and -* full of solicitude at the fate of the boy than Colonel Monico, Sep. 4 Mrs, Vernon was carried up stairs in violent hysterics, and a doctor sent for. wat.) + Exe pronounced her condition critical, ? and advised the greatest care, attention, ; and quiet, y All she could moan was the Italians had the second time robbed her of her ome aie The colonel remained all day with Captain Vernon, detectives coming and going. — Captain Vernon, remembering what cand Paulo: It was ascertained that some time ago they had left the city, it was supposed for New Orleans. Suspicion, however, was attached to « wit { . { ; them in spite of their disappearance. at The Vernons were rich and the cap- tain offered a,large reward for the res- “Unless he is - -found,” he remarked to his false friend, “the blow will be the death of my wife, cand it will take me a long time to re- «cover the shock of his loss.” “What object ean they have in injur- ‘Ing the boy?” asked the colonel. jerquainted with my old enemy, ount ci Capri.” » “From what I have heard, they are the oa read Aaieaet about that in the | On Land and Sea. papers, but the Count is dead, and the object of these men would only be gain. Therefore you may hope to find your son.” “God grant it may be so,” answered the Captain. “The late Count di Capri, I believe, was an admirer of your wife. Vengeance may be at the bottom of this.” “Yes, he vowed vengeance because I married her.” “A vendetta, surely.” “Truly, he was a Corsican. Did you ever meet him?” asked Captain Vernon. “No, but I have heard he was a gam- bler, and ruined himself.” “You are correctly informed, He came over here and stole my child. We re- covered him by accident, and after hay- ing the pleasure of his society for a short time he is again taken from us,” The Colonel hoped he would soon have good news, and said he would call again before he left the city, after which he took his departure, Meanwhile Pompey and Tom Ludlow had not been idle, In fact they had been indefatigable in their researches and inquiries. At length, weary and disappointed, they sat down in the gymnasium to dis- cuss the situation. It was growing dark. There was only one other occupant of the room besides themselves. This was a large gray parrot, attached to a perch by a chain round his leg. It was a great pet of Harry's, and had been presented to him by the Colonel. A clever bird was this; ready at pick- ing up words and repeating them. “ What do you think of this business, Massa Tom?.” asked the negro. “I’m blest if I know what, to think,” replied Ludlow. “It’s a queer start, any way. Harry had nothing to run away for. My mind connects the Ital-. ians with the occurrence.” “There’s an Italian in it, that was suah,” Just then the parrot cried in a sharp treble: “ Poor Harry.” They both looked round. “ That’s an intelligent bird,” remarked Tom. “He knows more than some humans,” replied the negro. “Say, Snowball,” continued Tom, “ to what Italian do you specially allude?” The parrot again spoke: “The Colonel! the Colonel!” he piped, Pompey sprang to his feet and scratched his head in perplexity. “That beats the deck,” he exclaimed. “Colonel Monico is the identical man I was thinking of.” “It’s very comical,” answered Tom Ludlow, “to say the least of it.” as I bet my bottom dollar it’s true, sah.” “That bird knows something, but he can’t talk all at once. picks up’ words.” “That’s sartin’, sah,” answered Pom- ey. : “T wish he would tell us where Harry is gone,” said Tom, They were again astonished. The parrot seemed to rent! nay were talking about him. “Por a sail, for a sail,” exclaimed the ir ‘d. “Who with?” asked Tom, eon up inquiringly. The Colonel, the Colonel, fas anawered the bird glibly. “This is wonderful,” said Tom. The. negro sat with his mouth open, too surprised to speak. He listens and a It seemed to his superstitious mind that there was a spirit in the bird. At last he burst out: ‘“ We'’s, we’s on. the trac, Massa Tom. That dare bird talking the trufe, by golly.” The fact is this, when Harry Vernon > had been in the gymnasium that morn- ing alone, he kept on saying aloud, in high glee, “I am going for a sail with the Colonel, hurrah? ” The bird had caught up the words. He had learnt his lesson without any trouble. “Say it again, Polly,” exclaimed Tom, “and I'll give you a peanut.” “Going for a sail, the Colonel; hur- rah;” rejoins the bird, as if he knew what was required of him, Tom was forced to admit that the bird . could not say these words without he = had heard them. There was a significant meaning in his utterances. “Keep your mouth shut about this,” he said. “I'll see into it.” “ What you do, sah,” asked Pompey. “T will advertise a reward in the pa- pers to any sailor who will give infor- mation about a boy going to sea on this day. “Good scheme, sah; push it along.” ” “Trust me to do so. » : CHAPTER VIII. _ A CLUB TO THE LOST BOY. Colonel Monico was well satisfied with what had been done so far. Tony Fish had promised that, he: should never hear of Harry Vernon again. Those in the lighthouse were to dis-: pose of the boy in a secret manner, The nature of his untimely death would ever remain a mystery of the deep. Not expecting to see his agent back from Maine for a few days, he visited a — friend who in the Winter could always _ supply him with some very good eons shcoting. © He enjoyed himself as much as ‘it he. had not consigned Harry bares ir to death. vy A When he returned to his hotel a eure ay a prise awaited him, A letter had arrived for him from oo ples, it was written by a notary public, — who acted as his solicitor, In it he was — informed that his three brothers had — been shot while hunting ip bi a Calabria, The shock of this news pai him greatly, for he was much attached to his relatives. The whole brunt of carrying out the vendetta now lay upon his shoulders. — He had formerly thought that if any- thing happened to him that his brothers — would send the Vernons to their doom. But fate had decided that he should — act single-handed, He sent a messenger to the Vernons to inquire after the health of the la He also asked for information respec ing the boy’s mother. | hig” An answer came back from ‘the cap- tain to the effect that Mrs. Vernc Pijevagh much worse. She was not winlah to last long. No news had been received ot hares Captain Vernon added that he should be glad to see the colonel as he was visi Be miserable and unnerved. While the. Italian was digesting. this fav ana Tony Fish made his ap- i m, Qe Ah, exclaimed the colonel, “Ts was expecting you hourly. You have made Sh Mat Ty : “Bas good it a good passage.” r unre entice the aEen,. % PAs M aT % ca
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; Ba See fy dae sk ¥ Cae se me = Vents YR PS Se ee .— « ee ee eee a Ne ee ee ae as mie tigen A 4 < y 4 Ca Py 6 pid aT air iy « J ; 4 : « a’ {i fat 10 indeed that the youngster was taken off his feet soon after we passed the Nar- rows.” f “ Did the sailors suspect anything.” “No. He was as limp as a bundle of rags when I landed him at the light house.” “What did you tell them?” “That he was delicate,” replied Tony Fish, “and the doctors had ordered him to stay in a light house for a month for the benefit of his health.” “What are your friends in the light * house going to do with him?” contin- ued the Colonel. “ . “They will put him in a sack, tie up the neck, and put him into the sea,” an- swered the agent. “May not .the sack float like a cork — . we any fatal harm can befall its occupant.” * Not so. A bar of iron will be fas- tened around the neck of the sack.” “A dead weight,” remarked Colonel .. Monico. | “That is it,” said Fish, “those I em- - ploy are like myself.” “In what way?” " sa “We don’t do things by halves.” “ Will your men blab the secret ont?” a thé colonel asked after a slight pause. “Not they.. There are but two of them, Grimes and Horner, and after % they have killed the boy they daren’t tg ' gay anything about it, for their own il ef’ ae “That is so.” Shor * There wag a lull in the conversation. f They were in a private apartment by themselves, a . Cigars, wines, and spirits were on a _ + ~+buffet. Each helped himself as he ; pleased, while the colonel paced up and down the room smoking a cigar and co- fi gitating. _-‘Fish opened a window at the back of _ the room and looked out. The room was on the first floor, below --—s 'was a stable yard, just under the win- dow stood a cart laden with refuse ready _, to be taken away. . __ , +The prospect was not inviting. _ 4 Fish, however, had an object in view. ‘He took a small mirror from his _., breast pocket, held it up, and looked a’ ay, Sa ae 4 In it was reflected every object in the room, By its aid he could see all that -Colone “Monico did not dream of this. In thought the agent was simply taking “A few moments reflection convinced _ draw t . i _, Work was done, : Tony isu was always asking him for money in advance. He had agreed to - pay him a large salary monthly, this sum Tony had anticipated six months ahead, much to the colonel’s annoy- ——s And he -was still asking for more. ‘The man was a perfect vampire after ‘money, and the colonel was afraid he would continue to be so. ‘ He most ardently wanted to get rid of him. But how. Colonel Monico was a man of re- sh, the other for the colonel. king a small phial from bis breast containing a colorless fluid, he Poe ekg eee ae + | on the water and be tossed ashore before . ) ver. ‘Ttalian. yard, — PERI TIS NL A EIT ES Pe a RM, — aye, Nae mae toe - On Land:and Sea. glass. These were not what are called knock- out drops, they’ were veritable death drops, the decoction was a quickly act- ing vegetable poison. Tony Fish had evidently been expéct- ing something of this kind. All the time he had been looking at the small mirror he held in the palm of his hand, Not a single movement of the Italian had escaped his notice, When he saw the fluid poured into his glass he thought at once it was intend- esd to poison him. Looking out of the window was only a little bit of by-play on his part. It was a trap in which to catch his em- pldyer. Colonel Monico took two or three. steps and tapped him on the shoulder, ‘ “Let us talk business,” he said. * Captain and Mrs. Vernon remain to be dealt with before my Vendetta can be satisfied. Drink your wine,” he pointed to the buffet on which the two glasses were standing, Fish turned around with his look of cool complacency. “ Does it matter which glass I take?” the asked, “T poured out this one on the left for you.” “Thank you. I prefer that on the right, the other you can drink yourself.” “Why do you talk to me like that,” demanded the colonel. “ Drink!” was all that the agent gave’ as his answer. Colonel Monico recoiled a step. “ Not at your dictation,’ he exclaimed. “T did not expect you would,” replied the agent. “T divined your purpose, and am here to baffle you!” The Italian turned pale under his dark skin. a “What purpose?” he gasped. “You intended to poison me! I saw you put the deadly liquid in that glass.” * You lie!” cried the colonel, hoarse- usual ly. “Drain that glass, and I will retract what I have said.” The colonel hesitated. “Dastard! ” continued the agent. “You can’t play with me. If you won't have it one way you shall have it an- other.” As he spoke he seized the glass and threw the contents in the colonel’s face. This was more than the fiery blood of the Italian could bear, ‘With a howl, like that of a, wild beast, he drew his stiletto. Tony Fish*ran to the window and threw it open, his intention was to spring out into the yard. Before he could do so the frantic de- scendant of the Counts di Capri was upon him. . Fish knocked up the stiletto, thus avoiding a fatal blow, but the point of the dagger ripped up a portion of his cheek to the bone. He knew he was marked for life. The spying detective was infuriated in his turn, and forced to retaliate. — There was no time to draw his revol- With a dexterous movement he knocked the stiletto out of his assailant’s hand. It crashed through a pane of glass and a terrible struggle ensued be- the TWO MOD i Vie he ai! daft tht Fish was decidedly stronger than the Getting a firm grip of his right leg and i slp shoulder, Fish exerted all his strength and threw him into the EG (aa Rheents rect he Pee aie es hee poured a few drops into the agent’s |’ ig! Go to the “infernal regions!” he hissed, “and take my curse with you,’”. The colonel would undoubtedly have broken his neck or his limbs had not Providence interposed in his: favor. Luckily for him he fell on the refuse in the cart, This broke his fall. Climbing to the ground, he walked through the yard into the street, and disappeared. a { “Sapristi! ”’ he muttered enigmatical- ly. “The spy does not know, but he will find out soon.” As a matter of fact, Tony did not know the fate that was in store for him. ; He was highly indignant at the way in which he had been treated by one whom he had served well. Watching the colonel vanish into the street, he took a look at himself in a pier glass. ; There was not much blood issuing. from the gash made in his face by the stiletto. ; Still it was an ugly wound, which would leave a life long scare, Reviling the colonel for his treachery. he went to a doctor, who put two or three stitches in the cheek and some plaster over that, 4 He advised him to attend to it, and also to be temperate, and he would be iH all right in a few days. i Tony Fish was not at all alarmed, but he determined to be revenged on the colonel, from whom he did not expect, to be able to extort any more money. To do this effectually he resolved to put Captain and Mrs. Vernon on their guard against him. An ‘anonymous let- ter would do this, * He need not inculpate himself. ¥ It would be too late to save the boy,. but he could certainly enable Captain and Mrs. Vernon to protect themselves. against the far-reaching Italian ven- detta. Partaking of a light supper he re- turned to his lodging and went to bed. He awoke in the night, conscious of ~“ an uncomfortable feeling, not only about his face and neck, but over his whole body. | What could it be, ; He had never experienced anything ae it before. The sensation was aw- ‘ { q f } He endeavored to move, but a cold rigidity had set into his limbs, as if he were dying. » \ The agent was frightfully alarmed. He could not reach the bell to sum- mon assistance, eh agente He shouted for help until he was hoarse. At last a light sleeper in the house was awakened, Through him a servant was aroused, and sent for medical assistance. When the doctor arrived he at once examined the patient, and to the sur- prise of Fish asked him if he had been bitten by a snake, The agent replied in the negative. In his turn he inquired why such a question should be put to him, | “You have all the symptoms of being — inoculated with the virus of a venom- — ous reptile. It grieves me to say that. I can do nothing for you,” | eg “Is there no antidote?” “None whatever.” _—s_, ; “ How long have I to live?” ip “You may last two hours, you may last four, but certainly not more than = that,” replied the doctor, ae _ This was, indeed, a deathblow to Fish, — _ The doctor gave him a stimulant, and left him in charge of two attendants. _ “ 5 Tigees: Ae : OM t I 2 ¥ Re Bore Se ok RO We
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On’ Land and Sea.” Crazy. with fright, and maddened with pain, the agent tried to collect his thoughts. It was with difficulty he did so. , He had heard of poisoned daggers. Though he had no proof to that ef- fect, he was convinced that Colonel Mo- nico’s stiletto was tipped with venom. His last hour was rapidly approach- ing. Beckoning to one of the attendants, he requested him to summon Captain Vernon to his bedside. His voice had sunk to a hoarse whis- per. It was with difficulty he could make himself understood. It was his dying wish to reveal to him is the murderous hostility of the Italian. At the same time he intended to tell him about the stiletto wound, and ask him to have the colonel arrested and brought to justice. The minutes flew by‘ with startling ; rapidity. Eternity was staring him in the face. | ‘He endeavored to speak, but his , tongue clove to the roof of his mouth. He made signs to the remaining at- tendant to bring him a pencil and a piece of paper. His fingers, which were icy cold, closed upon the pencil, but he was unable to move his wrist, with the “ utmost difficulty he scribbled in strag- j gling letters one word: ~ * Beware! ”’ ; Then a sudden'spasm convulsed his frame, the death rattle was heard in his throat, his eyes rolled fearfully, and in a few moments his heart ceased to beat. Tony Fish, the smart detective, secret agent, courier, and spy, was dead. He had been cut off without any warn- ing. Alas! for those chiefly concerned, his dread secret had died with him. Searcely had the last breath passed ' away from his body when Captain Ver- non was ushered into the room. It will be remembered they had never met, therefore Tony Fish was a perfect stran- | ger to the captain. +“ do not know this man,” he ex- - claimed. The dead man’s face was black and swollen, making him a hideous sight. Vernon turned away in disgust, thor- oughly nauseated. “He wished to warn you against some- ‘thing or somebody, sir,” said the man who had been at the bedside. _ He showed him the paper with the word “ Beware! ” scrawled upon it. Captain Vernon could neither make head nor tail of this. He quitted the house as wise as when he entered it, and went to his home. Not a word had been uttered by Tony Fish to incriminate Colonel Monico. _ The cause of, the agent’s death re- mained a mystery to all who knew him. - Whe Captain Vernon arrived he was met by Tom Ludlow and Pompey. “ Any news?” asked Tom. “Unfortunately none. I had my jour- ney for nothing,” replied the captain. getting an answer to his advertisement, which appeared in all the morning pa- tee for some time past. é and Pompey went in to the gymna- sium, which was their favorite lounging place when they wanted to converse. Massa Harry up as dead and gone, ” re- marked Pompey. has been taken away from us forever,” a ae -replied Tom. oes ee all through the Italian, and: he know i _ “ Perhaps you are right; 1 - the point. ‘It is not worth while to. yin Tom had almost begun to despair in. “T am afraid we shall have to give |I could not do it,” replied Grimes. “Yes, I am afraid the poor fellow | I won’t argue | mine,” answered Horner. “‘ How about | ‘Ahat boy on the bag be sacks: below? % “Tse sartin suah, sah,” persisted the negro. A servant looked in at the door and announced that a. man who looked like a seafarer wished to. see Mr. Lud- low. ‘“ Ask him to come in,” exclaimed Tom. “T did,” was the answer, ‘‘ but he won’t leave the doorstep,” The reward Tom had offered for in- formation about Harry Vernon was twenty-five dollars. This amount he had in his pocket. Going to the door he saw.a sailor, who asked for a description of the boy ad- vertised for. Tom promptly gave him an accurate one. “hat’s the lad,” cried the sailor, “hand over the dollars and I will tell you where to find him.’ Tom Ludlow did not hesitate to do so. “Where is he?” asked Tom. “In the, Black Rock Lighthouse off the coast of Maine! ” After uttering these words, the sailor was off like a shot. It was one of the crew of the Seagull who had spoken and given the wished-for clue, CHAPTER IX. THROWN INTO THE SBA. Harry Vernon had been a day and a night in the Black Rock Lighthouse. The rest and nourishment given him im- proved his condition. A fierce storm of wind and rain was raging. The’ sea dashed in huge waves over the Black Rock. and the massive stones of which the lighthouse was composed, but no amount of rough weather had ever af- fected it. On the evening of the second day after Harry had been left at the Black Rock by the unfortunate and unscrupu- lous Tony Fish, the keepers of the light- house, Grimes and Horner, were seated in a cozy room on the second tier of the lighthouse. A comforting fire was burning in the stove, and they were well supplied with tobacco and liquid refreshments. The wind howled and shrieked out- side, and the enormous Atlantic break- ers dashed against the stones With a deafening roar. The men had to speak loud to make themselves heard, Rough-looking men were these two, with ‘long gray hair and beards, beetle brows and wrinkled faces. Grimes looked more ferocious than his companion, and anybody could read his character in his countenance. “There will be some wrecks to-night,” exclaimed Horner. ‘‘I have not lighted the lamps yet, and it is too much trouble to keep the bell ringing.” “We are playing into the hands of the wreckers all the time,” replied Grimes, “and I am tired of it, because we don’t get our proper share of the plunder from ape old-time friends, Lurem and By-. a The men he alluded to were supposed to be simple fishermen, living in a very small, obscure village on the coast of Maine. “Why don’t you cive it up and go on the mainland,” asked Horner, “Tam so used to this kind of life that oe I love the splash of the waves and the screech of the wind.” “You have saved money; I know you | have got a lot in that box’of yours.” “What has that got to do with you?” demanded Grimes, fiercely. ae Do- y ou want to rob and murder me?” “That is more in your line than ner. ence of erat il “That is my business. “When the wind. drops I shall tie him up in a sack with a lump of lead at his feet and throw” him into the sea.” “You won’t do that unless I am paid. for looking on,” said Horner with de-. termination in his eye. Grimes placed a hand on a knife in his belt. “You are my servant here,” he exclaimed, “and I will not give you a | red cent for extra work.” “TI shall stop you.” {VOLY 210 ONL? “Injure that boy and I will appeal to the police for your arrest.” Grimes indulged in a hoarse laugh. “You think te will, do you?” he- asked. “T mean to, as sure as I am sitting. here.” “You poor fool.” “IT will not have the boy ‘injured. re “ Faint-hearted idiot!” “Call me what you like; you will have to pay me or set him free. 4) “I will act squarely with both of you,” Grimes continued, “and in this. way: you shall go into the sea before him.” “Who will put me there?” “T will,” replied Grimes. “T can tackle: — half a dozen like you single-handed.” As he spoke he flashed his Baitp be- fore him in the lamplight. ' Horner shrank back in terror. He was not prepared for this act of” hostility on the part of his companion. | They had often had hard words, but. they had never yel come to blows. “Don’t carry on too far with me,’ Bre cried Grimes. : “What's the kid to you?” ~ Ya “T am not asking for a quarrel,” alm) are swered Horner, “ but the youngster was © sick when he was brought here, and I have been attending to him all the time because you were too drunk to move out of your bed, and I have taken a bays 2 to the lad.” “Hang your fancy,” shouted Griceas “if you harp out that string T will ae your tbroat.” “Are you going to pay me to keep. my mouth shut and my reer ty asked Horner. “No,” replied Grimes emphatically, “ have had you here in this lighthouse as Bia. my assistant going on five years, and am I have made money out of the i you have always had a bit of it.” The altercation between the ‘two x continued, Grimes was in the habit of smoking opium. He put some of this. hit i drug in his pipe. It s took effect upon him. Becomi drowsy, he glared at Horner. * Suddenly he sprang up, and seizing a . bar of iron rushed toward Horner. Standing over him he trembled sire rage. “Speak another word ‘to me,” i he roar “and I will brain you bina hint 8 ” Horner was thoroughly alarmed. He knew the violence of which his hatpipumed : ion was capable. Bees To save his life he altered ni tone, ie “Don’t find fault with me,” cand eral claimed, “I will not vex you.” He held up his hands to avert. a blow. ; “1 am in no mood to be thwarted,” re- plied Grimes. era “ What do you want me to do?” Diy Nee “ Attend to my wishes.” ed “T will do so. Name them,” melts Hor- Giving a grunt of satisfaction, Grimes returned to his seat. He was very far from 5 er the 2
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Cj ey NSS ME TE 12 , On Land and Sea. ——————————— But scratching his head he endeavored tto collect his senses. “ How about the boy?” he asked. “Oh! Let him slide. Who cares about thim!” replied Horner in an assumed, ecareless air. All the same he was only acting. In this heart he retained the same sym- ‘pathy for hapless Harry Vernon. “ Bring the lad up,” continued Grimes. “*Tt is just the kind of a night to com- wit a deed like this.” Horner departed. He was some time gone, At length he reappeared, carrying a sack with a shot tin it slung over his shoulder, and leading Harry by the hand. The latter looked pale and ill, as well the might. He bore himself bravely. Had Horner been buoying him up with thope? Perhaps so! “Ha!” eried Grimes, wtih the fierce- mess of an ogre. “Pack him up and throw him out of the window.” Grimes watched the performance with eagerness, but he could not see plainly. All was blurred and imperfect to his vision. Horner bundled Harry into the sack, which he tied around the neck with @ rope. It was about six feet in length. The ther end was fastened to an iron ring 4n the wall. When put out of the window Harry “would by its aid be suspended in the air. ‘Horver unfastened the round plate-glass window. It opened inwards, Wind drove in a quantity of spray. All at once the deep boom of a gun was hneard. It had a fateful significance. ‘This was the minute gun at sea—al- ways a signal of dire distress with mar- iners. “Boom! Boom! Boom!” It sounded like the knell of death in the ears of Harry. But he did not utter acry. He was game to the last. Pushing him through the embrasure cut in the stone, Horner allowed him to drop apparently Mto the sea. It was all over in a moment. The window was shut and the sullen boom of the minute gun died away. This made sweet music to Grimes’s ears. He knew that some big ship was being lured to the shore. She would soon become the prey of the wreckers. “He will be food for fishes,” remarked Grimes. “ Good-night, I’m going in for a, long sleep.” : “Tt’s what you need,” replied Horner. “ See to things generally.” “Trust me. I will not fail you.” The senior lighthouse keeper sank into a profound slumber. It promised to last at least twenty- four hours. The man was saturated with opium, nicotine, and alcohol. Horner satisfied himself that he slept and went below. » He had work to do down stairs, CHAPTER X. AMONG THE WRECKERS. Horner descended the spiral staircase Jeading to a warehouse below, a power- ful lantern flashed a light on the stone steps. When he got half-way down he opened an iron door in 'the wall. A gust of wind and the splash of a wave nearly took his breath away. ‘By the aid of his lantern he saw the gack he had lowered dangling in front of him. It was swaying backward and forward with the breeze, In it was the body of the boy, which now and then dangerously knocked against the stones. Drawing the sack toward him he closed the iron door and dragged the boy into a lower compartment of the lighthouse. In his position of safety it was sport to him to listen to the roar of the wind and waves. With Harry Vernon it was very dif- ferent. When released from his sack and placed upon the rough bed he was senseless, his lips livid, and his face bloodless. Horner gave him a stimulant, and sat down on an empty box to await his re- turn to consciousness. The compartment in which they were was the largest in the building, as the tower narrowed up to the top, in the pin- nacle of which was the incandescent arc, which that nigat had not been lighted. All around Horner were cases and boxes of supplies, some full, some empty, and alongside of him was a large boat standing on a wheeled carriage so that it could be moved through the entrance to the lighthouse down an incline on the rock, and so into the sea when the keepers wanted to go out. It had a sail and could easily be man- aged by one man. A feeling of dismay came over Hor- ner. He feared that the heir to the Ver- nons was dead. Harry had told him who he was, and all that had happened to him, promising him a large reward from his father if he could enable him to escape and get back home again. A large black cat, the only companion of the lighthouse men’s solitude, had followed Horner down stairs, and, jump- ing on his knee, began to purr good-tem- peredly. The man stroked it, considering it a sign of good luck. His superstition was not without foun- dation. Harry Vernon opened his eyes, and a faint smile came to his lips as he saw his friend, “Good! ” exclaimed Horner. “ He will live, and we shall fly the coop before that vicious old rascal Grimes wakes up.” He assisted Harry to rise, and made him sit up on the side of the bed. “Tt is all right, Master Harry,’ he said. “I have got the old man fast asleep upstairs, and as soon as day breaks we will shove the boat out and make for the mainland, , Harry looked up in a dazed manner. He did not seem to fully comprehend all that had happened. “ Where have I been?” he asked. “ You told me you would not hurt me, but After you put me in-the sack all became a blank.” Horner lighted his pipe and gave him an explanation. At this moment a tremendous crash of thunder was heard outside and echoed through the chamber of the lighthouse. Soundly as Grimes was sleeping it roused him, and terribly alarmed, he ran to the top of the stairs, being only half awake, “What's the matter?” he shouted. “I guess we are struck by lightning.” Horner was alarmed. “ Hold on!” he replied. ‘It’s all right. I am coming,” He did not want Grimes to see Harry. In his mad frenzy the ruffilan might have: killed him. xs But Grimes was not to be checked. He descended the stairs in order to find out if any damage had been done. Within half a dozen steps of the bot- tom of the flight he stopped short, trem- bling. A ghastly expression came over his countenance. His eyes rolled in frenzy. Raising his hands over his head he uttered a shout like that of a maniac. “Oh God!” he shrieked. “The boy! The boy! It is a ghost! I am doomed! ” Unable to restrain himself, he fell for- ward, striking nis head on the concrete floor, thereby fracturing his skull. Blood flowed profusely from the wound. Horner did what he could to stop the hemorrhage, but without success. As fast as he put on bandages Grimes frantically tore them away. His ravings, curses, and imprecations were terrible to listen to. Ere the gray dawn broke in the east he had passed away. Horner covered over the cold clay and looked out. The storm was over and the violence os i waves had subsided to a great ex- ent. The sea was calm enough to lower the boat, and he proceeded to do so. Harry Vernon assisted him to the best of his ability. When they were on board, Horner hoisted the sail and steered for the shore. Harry sat down in the stern sheets very quiet, but extremely thankful for his narrow escape. Horner uttered an exclamation of im- patience, reasons for which he did not explain to his companion. He had forgotten to take with him Grimes’s money box, and, as the wind and tide were against him, he could not return for it. When the boat neared the shore, which was low lying and sandy, they discovered the wreck of a large yacht, evidently from its size the property of a rich gen- tleman. This was probably the vessel that had fired the shots during the night. Between two hills of sand, driven up by the waves, was erected a circular tent, around which were groups of sev- eral fishermen. Others were engaged in taking what valuables they could find out of the ship. These were the wreckers, Their village was dimly visible about a mile and a half distant. Their approach was quickly recognized by the wreckers, and Lurem, who was a tall, dark-bearded man, walked rapidly down ‘to the beach to meet them. He knew the rig of the lighthouse boat, and Le was familiar with the form of Horner. Running the boat aground, the light- house man and Harry Vernon stepped ashore. _ Lurem inquired the reasons of their coming to that spot. Horner had already made up his story, and replied that Harry Vernon had fall- en overboard from a passing ship, and, being a good swimmer, had kept afloat, and finally drifted on to the Black Rock, where he was rescued. Grimes had fallen down stairs and had broken his skull. He had come on shore to inform the Lighthouse Board and sent Harry to his home in New York. In return for this communication Lu- rem told the lighthouse man that the shipwrecked vessel] belonged to a New } York gentleman, who was paying them
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| | | : | Ee = nats ‘ On Land and Sea. 1S a handsome sum for salvage, and they were getting all that was valuable out of the ship before she went to pieces on the next flood tide. Lurem invited them to come to the tent, where they could rest and have re- freshments. Harry went on at once, as he was tired and weak, leaving the wrecker and Hor- ner together. “TJ think I will go over to the light- house and bring the body of Grimes, as it does not seem right to leave it there,” exclaimed Lurem., “Tf you go I will go with you,” an- swered Horner. “JT don’t want any company.” * You’ve got to have mine, for I know what you are after.” “ What is that?” “The old man’s money box. I forgot to take it with me, and I am going back for it, anyway. I intend to have my share of it, come what may.” “Tf you insist, come along.” Lurem was obliged to give in, and the two men, entering the boat, set sail for the lighthouse, Harry felt rather nervous as he ap- proached the tent, for the aspect. of the wreckers was wild and fierce. Several of them were sitting on boxes and barrels, which they had brought from the wreck. There were plenty of wines and other liquors, which they had broached, and several of them were intoxicated. Some of the men were singing snatches of songs, “regardless of a melancholy spectacle not far from them. The captain and crew, consisting of four men, had been drowned, their * corpses had been drawn up on the shore and Jaid on their backs side by side. As we havé said, only the owner of the _ yacht had been saved. : Little did he think that the men by whom he was surrounded were thieves and villains. . It did not enter his mind that it was through them that the lighthouse lamp was extinguished. ~ Otherwise he would have been warned of his dangerous nearness to the coast. The wreckers, about thirty in number, did not attempt to interfere with Harry, whom they had seen speaking to their leader, Lurem. _ Nodding pleasantly to the men, Harry 3 walked into the tent, where he had been ' told refreshments were spread. _ By this time the white sail of the light- use boat, in which were seated Hor- ner and Lurem, was being lost to sight in the ‘distance. It was a remarkably fine day; the air was clear, and the lighthouse could be Just discerned on the verge of the hori- In the tent were seated two men be- , fore a table well spread with edibles and potables. One was Bythall, whom Harry Vernon did not know, but the other was one, to his utter surprise, he did know. This was no other than Colonel Monico. Harry stopped short, bewildered. He then ran forward, glad to greet, as he thought, an old friend. Not the slightest suspicion did he have that the apparently amiable Italian was the cause of all his trouble. The- colonel recognized him in an in- stant, and was as much surprised in the meeting as was the boy. After the death of Tony Fish from the scratch of his poisoned dagger the colonel Rceck lighthouse to see if ‘the deadly tas ens Case sent, felt uneasy in his mind about Harry Ver- _ non, and determined to visit the Black He had been assured that Harry Ver- non was no more. Embarking in his yacht, he had sailed for the coast of Maine, where he was caught in the storm the previous night. In vain he had fired signals of distress; the relentless waves and the driving wind had sent him ashore, and, with the amount of luck he did not deserve, he had escaped a watery grave, For him to see Harry Vernon walk into the tent was an amazement. Extending his hand, he grasped that of Harry in a most cordial manner. | “My dear boy,” he exclaimed, ‘‘ How did you come hére? Sit down, you must tell me all about it. I unfortunately have been wrecked while taking a cruise, but, thank God, I am alive and well, and per- fectly safe in the hands of these good people.’ He led Harry to a chair and pressed him to eat. Harry was really hungry, and had his: teeth, as they say, sharp set. While regaling himself he related all that had happened to him, from the time the yacht had left New York till he was thrown into the sea by order of Grimes and rescued by Horner. The colonel laid the whole of the blame upon Tony Fish, whose motive, however, he did not attempt to explain. “No doubt, my dear boy,” he ex- claimed, “you have an enemy, and a bitter one somewhere. I am your friend, and will protect you.” Harry reflected for a moment, He was a smart boy. -For various reasons he began to sus- pect the sincerity of Colonel Monico. There were discrepancies that had to be sifted. “Why did you not inquire of Mr. Fish what had become of me when you placed me in his care?” “ Fish told me that he had left you in the lighthouse, as you were very ill, and as soon as possible I started out to find you. It is evident that you have been the victim of Grimes, who is evi- dently a drunken maniac, and not re- sponsible for his actions.” Harry affected to believe this, but he had an undercurrent of thought. “JT will not trust this man any longer,” he said to himself. ‘‘ There is something wrong, and I know it. I will get away from here and trust to a stranger rather than a false friend.” The boy was right, though he neney on impulse. He rose from the table. It was his resolve to tramp to the nearest town. “Where are you going?” demanded Monico. “On my way,’ replied Harry. a | fon you for your kindness. Good- “You will stay here.” “ Not if I know it. This is a free coun- try, and there is no compulsion. I am my own master, if I am but a boy.” Monico seized him by the arm and threw him on the ground. “What do you mean by this outrage?” “hie Harry, who was shaken, but not u “T am acting as your friend, and going to take you home,” answered the colonel. “T mistrust and will have nothing to do with you.” — “We will see about that.” The colonel as he spoke made a sign to Bythall. “Seize that boy and bind him for me,” he exclaimed. “‘ He wants to run away. I know his parents and rig to restore him to paises “ Ay, ay, sir’ responded Bythall. The wrecker took up a coil of rope,, and before Harry could rise he securely” bound his arms behind his back. “Where could you put him out of the» way for a time?” asked Monico, “There is the hull of an old wreck. just behind the tent,” replied Bythall. “That will do, I will wait here until: you come back. By no means allow him. to escape,” F “ ‘Trust me.” 3 Colonel Monico sank back into his. y chair and continued to smoke his cigar with perfect complacency. The wrecker led Harry Vernon out of” the tent to the rear of a sandhill. Near by was the hull mentioned. It. was firmly embedded in the sand, and, had been fitted with a door, which gave: admittance to what was in Tenn. a storer hovse, i Here the wreckers kept various stores. : of goods and provisions, and they used it when they were not engaged in fish— ing or wrecking for card gambling and drinking purposes. When Bythall had got Harry insider he pushed him into a corner, saying: “You will have to stop here until the boss decides what to do with you.” 4 ™ “T’ll make you and him pay for what. — ae you are doing to me now,” replied Harry, “T see now the real character of the “4 man who has pretended to be my friend.’” . “Ha! Ha!” laughed Bythall, ‘“ that. | has nothing to do with me,” a “Perhaps you will find out in the long run that it has.” “Hold your jaw or I will eral it none ie you,” said the ruffian. oe “There is law in the land, beware! "” te Scarcely were the words out of Harry’s: _ Af mcuth when the wrecker gave him a brutal kick. Harry could utter no remonstrance or complaint. For a moment he thought his jaw was: broken, 1S Bythall walked away, grinning sar- | Sha se and locked the door behind ‘\s m. It was not long before he was again beside the Italian. © The last of the race of the Counts ak ‘ Capri was jubilant with smiles. “ Though his last shot had failed to hit: — the mark, Harry was in his power again. This was a veritable triumph, and a iid intended to enjoy it. ners He had thrown off the mask and could ee Brae not possibly retreat. “Ts the boy secure?” he asked. a “ Yes,” replied the wrecker. “He is ins hy a death trap, where his bones may mould— er for many a day if you wish It so.” Bat) “No, no,” said the colonel, hastily, A a “that mode of procedure is too slow.” re “Do you want quick action?” — Most decidedly.” Bythall was plunged into deep thou od | for half a minute. + ia “What will you give me to eet pian! bey a him?” he inquired. iP “Name your price.” “One hundred dollars will bay “Tt shall be yours, my cag will you do?” Bythall lowered his head a the lever _ of the Italian’s ear. He spoke in a hoarse- i. y whispe ; e Tho hull is old, it is all wood, pa has been tarred half cheer iercst 2 will burn like tinder! ” ee “TI grasp your meaning.” ee. “Do you see?” continued ‘Brihall, ' with an animated look. “TI will set fire ; to it in the might and burn him tom : cinder.” ry The colonel nodded svncovioaty. am
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: IE Ties sas ba Oe ok ect tee 6D sreneiey hi nd ta te PEE aS i’ “ v: Mins 20 tee - io — ‘ ieee pang me pn OS TS a A OLDE LILLE E LAA DOAN TEAC AD ART : Sooner —*- . - ~ : = , : { ’ dua’) va f |. ? o— ‘ a A a i (habnse x w aier De , % : \ \ ipl 1 ane . j | 14 On Land and Sea. 1t-—— a “That will do,” he said, “ the money rig: yours.”) (05. y ates He sank back: again in his Pena and -continued smoking, ~’ Just then an altercation arose outside and Bythall went; por to ascertain the t f . cause. ; ay It was only a fight between two men. Bythall seeing there was nothing more ab to be done in clearing. the wreck sent ee all the men to their homes in the village, Me, giving each man a handsome sum pro- Mh 38 vided by the colonel as:a reward for the tae” ‘work they had done. / The coast was soon cleared. ae rele With a howl of. baffled rage, Lauren If he perished in the burning of the spurned the dead man’s’ body, oo his |‘old hull,.who could aceuse him of the foot and cursed him. +i | ‘deed ?, The money for which he had. aeinmnit- Bythall had lighted. a sre not far off ‘ted murder -was of 10 use tochim now. To | with old boxes and portions’ of the wreck- avert suspicion from himself he dragged} age of the yacht. A spark might be easily Grimes’s: body: upstairs and placed it | blown on the old hull and set it on near that of Horner, so that the light- | fire. house officials when they came would Near by on the shore stood Bythall think they had been fighting over the | watching the little steamer containing money and had killed one another., Tom Ludlow and the faithful Pompey, He was about to descend in order to | and a small boat which Lurem was sail- : | —— return to the land, full of rage at his bad | ing from the lighthouse, luck, when a cheery voice from below Gradually the boat approached. the shouted: ‘“ Ahoy, up there, ahoy! ” skore, and soon was beached. Re He, however, remained behind, He had left the door open leading to Bythall stepped forward, and, noticing ti He There was work to be done. * the Rock. the small sacks in which Lurem had ooo! ate Harry Vernon had to be disposed of Some one had arrived unexpectedly, | stored Grimes’s silver, asked: ihe a in the way proposed, and’it was neces- | and he was placed in an uncomfortable “ What have you got in those bags? ” 1% sary for Bythall to await the return of | position. “Money! Silver!” was the Jaconic u ; _Lurem and Horner from the lighthouse. He hesitated for a moment. reply. ri He listened, and again the voice was “Money! Where did you get it from?” i CHAPTER XI. heard. “T have a frightful Sa tell you,” SURPRISE AT, THE LIGHTHOUSE. “Tg there anything at home ‘here? ”’ replied Lurem, inventing a plausible lie. » It was about midday when Lurem and _ Horner reached the Black Rock. Lower- ing the sail they secured the: boat and entered the building. The body ‘of Grimes was lying where ‘Horner and Harry Vernon had left it. By this time it was cold and rigid. Leaving him they ascended to the sec- ond chamber, where they found a large wooden chest, which stood behind the «deor, It was clasped with iron and pad- _ locked. “There it is,” said Horner. ie “So I perceive,” replied Lurem, “ How “much do you think he has got in it?” “That’s more than I can tell you. He _ has saved a good bit, however.” oe. «Where is the key?” “J never knew where the old rascal hid it,” replied Horner. . “ Did he keep it in his clothes? ” asked |- Lurem, — -. “No, he was too artful for that.” _ “Phen I guess we will break it open.” “He spied a ponderous axe, which he _ »geized and attacked the chest with. It speedily yielded with his blows, the lid was — off, and the contents re- Orda re a) “When I was at the lighthouse Horner and Grimes fell to fighting, and it was a fight to the death. Grimes wag counting his money, when Horner stepped up and said it was nearly time he got his share of it.. Grimes refused to divide, and in the fight that followed Grimes got a fractured skull, while Horner had his head nearly chopped off.” Bythall shrank back in horror at this recital. “This beats anything 7 ever heard of,” he exclaimed. “ But why didn’t you bring | the rest of the money? I know he had more. I know his money was not all in silver.” “Horner fell over the box in which Grimes kept his money, and the blood, from his wounds saturated the bills 50 that they were useless to me.” “Did you leave the bodies at the light-_ house?” wt) “What else could I do?” answered Lurem. “TIT shall notify the Lighthouse _ Board. They will see to them.” eel “It is too bad. They were good friends — ; of ours, and in their day did us many a e good turn,” “Well, they are gone, now, and tna is the end of them. But, Bythall, what — ha: become of that boy Horner landed? ” Bythall looked at him curiously. oe “T can enlighten you, and open y eyes a bit,” he said. “ Since you wont to the lighthouse several things have h pened. The Italian who owns the yacht we lured on shore knows that boy, ha es him like poison, and Wants, him put ie of the way.” “Oh, ho! I begin to see. But that's a dangerous game.” “Not the way I intend to do it. I have him shut up in the goto which ‘use as a storehouse. en it gets ay f I will set it on fire. That will ae ek career.” can “T should gay it will. Is he goin , pay well for the job? The Fin worth something.” ay ii “Only a hundred to begin iin: But | let me alone. I'll bleed him after the fave fs thing is done for all he’s worth, But, 1 hush, here comes the colonel.” » Hess They both became instantly silent. ery “Give me the keys of the old st rocm,” said the colonel, addressing By- thall. “I want to see if the boy is safer? "4 “You needn’t fear-on that score, He’s “Coming,” he answered at length. Going down the stairs, he saw a young man anda negro. They had rowed to the Rock in a boat which had put off from a small steamer lying to a couple of hundred yards off. It was Tom Ludlow, accompanied by Pompey. They had lost no time in coming to the Black Rock Lighthouse to rescue Harry | Vernon. * Are you the young man in charge of this tower? ”’ asked Tom. “No, sir,’ answered Lurem. “T am a fisherman living on the main- land opposite, being a friend of the keepers, Grimes and Horner, I often come over to see them, and sell them such things as butter, eggs, and poultry.” “ Any one else here? ‘ “Not a soul.” . | “J must make sure of that by search- ing the house, for I expect that a boy is being hidden away here.” “You are welcome to search as far as ‘IT am concerned, though you will see a terrible sight up stairs. The two keepers have had a fight, and killed one another. I was horrified when I found it out.” “Tt is a fitting place for a tragedy,” remarked Ludlow. “Any way, we will ae ees = earache SE gn consisted of a great deal of sil- | ver and paper money, done up in pack- ets, the amount of each packet being earch? daa: pete a piece of paper attached to q Lurem held up his hand. ‘“ Stay,” he exclaimed, “‘ You spoke of a boy.” “Yes, have you seen one?’ asked Lud- low. Lurem stated that early in the morn- ing Horner had come to the shore and landed a youth, whom he described, and said that he would be very likely found in the tent near the spot where a gen- tleman’s yacht was wrecked. Ludlow and Pompey thanked him for the information, but all the same searched the building from top to bottom, being greatly shocked at the sight of the corpses, and, finding no trace of Harry, 'they returned to their steamer, which ‘was soon seen heading for the land. Lurem followed a little while after- ward, stopping to take the silver from the money chest, and hide it in the lock- er of his boat. . Tom Ludlow and Pompey were fairly on the track. Would the wily Italian baffle them casas i? mn eagerly reckoned up the total, e to three thousand dollars. as much as I expected,” re- nore “Half and halt. Share Ke.” Be Ethsetu woeteir” ie _* “T don’t care; stand aside.” 1) ae “I never ran yet, and I am not going now.” ae | Saying this Horner drew a knife, a Rey A desperate affray seemed imminent. $y) ee began by Apia ip aiming a blow at Hor- ner with the This he Sooped aside to. avoid, but lipping on some greasy substance he fell » Soke aural fine was ericak ng Snber: 4 He d. not lata $t. Dealing an awful blow at his adver- | sary, he nearly severed his head from his dy. Horner fell forward, his head and k hanging over the money chest, = |. he blood spurted out in a pertect: tor- | 4 Mis BLS safe enough. If you want to make sure; Tent, running into the box. re - CHAPTER XIL. ay Before Lurem could pull ‘him ‘back the | SAVED FROM A° BURNING: win ticn?: | seit” is the ite Go and look for eae a Rie old fi hulk, a was Dut tance away. Arriving piers, the door and entered. rt frome ‘ as ie ig natural onseauence, the dollar ten Pang in deep thought.’ dyed with eat ey ace wore” an expression of. tri- render ‘it amecrous it not un uinph, “This time he fancied that Harry | where, © | Vernon placa niin paige, Pe: : ite
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| | | wind had shifted and was blowing sparks and flames toward the old hulk, nor did he notice that’ he was being followed by {wo persons, no other than Tom Ludlow and Pompey, who had landed from their little steamer, and, seeing the colonel, had followed as close as they dared, On entering the colonel relocked the door, and turning was surprised to see Harry Vernon standing there, bold and defiant. He had succeeded in freeing himself from the bonds which Bythall had placed upon his hands and feet. In his excitement the colonel dropped the key to the floor. For the moment he aid not attach much importance to the joss, thinking he could find it whenever he wanted it. “So, my boy, you know me, do you?” he hissed, every feature and motion de- picting anger and revenge. *“ Yes,” replied Harry, “‘ to my sorrow. i know you as a villain and a scoundrel. One that has caused my mother untold suffering. What has she ever done that you should cause her such pain? What have I done that you should desire my death, as I really believe you do?” “You shall know. The telling is one of the sweetest morsels of my revenge,” exclaimed Colonel Monico, with evident delight. “ My brother, the Count di Cap- ri, loved your mother. She refused him and married your father, Captain Ver- non. That was the cause of his ruin and death. My brother swore a vendetta, which is an oath of vengeance, and bind- ing on every member of our family. My brother stole you from your parents. It was his intention to bring you up among ihe low classes, make a criminal of you, and on your conviction for a crime re- veal your identity to your parents. Ha! That would have been sweet revenge! ” **T was to be the victim for no fault of my own. I never harmed your brother in any*manner,” said Harry coolly. “That makes no difference. It is re- venge we want, and the family of Count di Capri will have it.” During the exciting conversation they had not noticed that the old hulk was gradually filling with smoke. That it must be on fire. The smoke brought them both to their senses. Both realized the situation in an in- stant. “The key! The key!” cried Colonel Monico, in vain endeavoring to recover it, crawling on his hands and knees and Searching in every corner. Harry stood dumfounded. He did not know what to do. “God help me!” he gasped. Bang! Bang! What was that? It came again. It sovnded like the blows from an axe. Some one must be battering at the door. Fast and furious came the blows. “Help! Help!” shouted Harry as loud ‘as he could. “Coming, boy!” said a voice, which Harry instantly recognized as that of ‘Tom Ludlow. . Just. then a large beam fell, striking the still groping Count on the head, knocking him senseless. Then the door burst open, falling inward with a crash, and Harry darted forward, panting for breath, only to fall into the strong arms of his faithful servant, Pompey. He was quickly carried out of reach of smoke and flames, restoratives were applied, his face was bathed, and in a few moments he recovered sufficiently to shout: _ “The colonel! He’s in there!” point- ‘ing to the now fiercely burning hulk. But it was too late to save the colonel. On Land and Sea. ) Ce The fire was by this time beyond control. The vindictive Italian had met the fate he had designed for another. The night was passed aboard the steam- er. In the morning they sailed back to New York, where Harry was received by his father and mother with open arms. Never again was he molested by any one. The vendetta was ended. The villains. Lurem an Bythall, did not long continue their nefarious ocecu- pation. They were hunted down by the authorities and sent to long terms in prison. Harry Vernon never forgot the kind- ness of Tom Ludlow and Pompey. To the former he gave a handsome present as a remembrance, to the latter a sum of money which made his eyes bulge with astonishment. THE END. Beadle's Half-Dime Library. BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID. 78 Blu teks or, The Yellow Chiefs Venguance, 87 The Land Pirates; or, The Lengue of Devil's Island, 187 The Helpless Hand; or, Backwoods Retribution. 289 The Gold-secker Guide? or, The Lost Mountain. BY HAROLD PAYNE. 848 Dan, the River Sporty; or, Foiling the Frisco Sharp, 892 Bowery Ben tn Chinatown. P1t Bowery Bob, the East-side Detective, 952 The Clreus Detective. 984 Scaler Sam, Detective, of Hook and Ladder 6, 1028 The \ oung Skipper’s Konanza. BY DAN DUNNING. ZAG Quiet Jack, the Secret Service Spy. 767 Mae and Jack, the Invincibles; or, The Diabolical Three, S75 Detective Dave’s Close Call, SS4 Farrel Fox and His Girl lerret. 898 Farrel Fox’s Sweep-Stakesa, BY OLL COOMES, Kit Bandy tn_Texas; or, The Young Mustanger, Kit Bandy’s Right Bower; or, Baby Sam,the Boy Giant Kit Bandy’s Swoop; or, Little Buckskin, tne Centaur,§) Kit Bandy’s Slick Scheme; or, Old Tom Rattler, Kit Bandy’s Deliverance; or, Banner Ban. Kit Bandy’s Pardys or, Dauntless Dan, the Freelance, 791 Kit Bandy Rattleds or, The Intant Giant, 795 Kit Bandy in Red Ruling or, The Young Whirlwind, 799 Kit Bandy’s Big Rustle; or, Saddle King Sam. SO4 Kit Randy's Brigade; or, Dan, the Mountain Guide, 927 Kid Bandy’s Brigade in Arizona, 989 Kit Bandy’s Star Engagement, 955 The Bandy Dead-Shot; or, Old Kit Bandy’s Compromise 1010 Kit Bandy’s Blg Stx; or, The Kustlers of Jackson Basin 158 Jack Drew, the Nemesis, or, Eagle Kit the B 182 Jack Drew's Drop; or, Little Hurricane, the Boy Captain, 202 Jack Drew in Dendwood; or, Prospect Pete, 568 The Border King; or, The Secret Fos. 71 Delaware Dick, the Young Ranger Spy. 74 Wawk-eye Harry the Young Trapper Ranger, 148 Sear-Face Baul, the Silent Hunter 178 Old Solitary, the Hermit Trapper. 224 Dashing Dick; or, Trapper Tom's Caatle, 228 Little Wildfire the Young Pratrie Nomad, 288 The Parson Detective; or, The Little Ranger, 248 The Diaguised Guide ; or, Wild Raven, the Ranger, 280 Dare-Devil Dan, the Young Prairie Ranger. 290 Little Foxfire, the Boy Spy; or, Old Culeb Arbuckle. 800 The Sky Demon}; or, Rainbolt, the Ranger, B84 Whip-King Joe, the Boy Ranchero, 409 Hercules; vr, Dick, the Boy Ranger. AIT Webfoot Mose, the Tramp Detective. 4b? Wingedfoot Fred ¢ or, Old Polar Saul, 468 Tamarac Tom, the Big Trapper Boy. 482. Stonewall Bob, the Boy Troin. B62 Rlundering Basil, the Hermit Boy Trapper, 652 Don Barr, the Plains Freelance, 670 Norway Nela, the Big Rov Mountaineer, 778 Highland Warrys the Wizard Rifleman, 829 Poker Jack, the Detective Sport. 1085 Antelope Abe, the Boy Gulde, 1051 The Boy Hercules. RY BEN D. HALLIDAY, 880 The Grim Lodgers in Rag Alley. 1044 The sew York Sharp. * BY MAJ. SAM 8, SCOTT, 1089 Mustang Merle, the Boy Rancher. 1045 Mustang Merle’s Mine, cake 10 Mustang Merle’s Merciless Foe. BY CAPT. J. F. C. ADAMS, r, Nick Whiffles’s Boy Spy. Glasa-Eye, the Great Shot of the Wate 54 Ned Hazel, the Boy ‘Trapper. k A nM wa Pets or, fr The Valley of Death, The W hite ndfan; or, The Scout of the Yeilowstone, 70 Old Zip’ Cabin; or, The Greenhorn in the Woods, BY Vightning we, the Licks of the Prairie, ne uckram { or, Bess, the Pemale T Q4T Old Grizzly aud Wik Potay or. The Wild Hodtrem. 251 Light-house Lige or, Osceola, the Firebrand 857 The Lost Hunters; or, The Underground Camp 2838 The Scalp King: or, The Human Thondervolt. BY HARRY ST. GEORGE. , 44 Rattling Rube; or, The Nighth BY Old Wickory } oF, Pandy Elites Seen eemteckys 108 Daring Davy 3 or, The Trail of the lohan: Wolf, 166 Hickory Harry; or, The Trapper-Rrignde’s Spy, 172 Thunderbolt Tom: or, the Wolf-Herder i BY WILLIAM PERRY BROWNK. . 956 Brooklyn Rob's Rule; or, Dodger Dov, 968 The Faat-Side Spotter: or, Turning haan dy ne 974 O1d Sant’a Dark Deals or, Miner Mat’s Iron Grip. 1015 The Reporter-fetec tve’s Blg Pull, 15/ BY WILLIAM G. PATTEN. 629 Violet Vane, the Velvet Sport; or, The Jubilee of Jncktown 66% Violet Vane’sa Victory; or, The Jasper City Clean Out 698 Violet and Datsy, the Posy Pards. TOS Violet Vane’s Vow; or, The Craity Detective’s Crait T24 Violet Vane’s Vengeance; or, The Wipe-Out. T8O Violet Vane’s Verdiets or, The Game at Coffin City. TAL Violet Vane, the Ventriloquist Vidocg; or, Sport vs. Sport. T5O Violet Vane, the Vanquished, or, ‘The Life Strugg!e, 768 Violet Vane’s Vision; or, The Fiery Hand of Fate. 4589 The Diamond Sport; or, The Double Face of Bed Rock. 519 Captain Mystery ; or, Five in One, SSL Dalia) Ware the Sport from Denver. 6ST Old Hombshell, the Ranger Detective, ; 604 Iron Fern, the Man of Fire; or, Among the Vultures. 619 The Boy Tramp Detective; or, The Double GripWitness 641 Dismal Daye’s Dandy Pardy; or, The Clue to Capt, Claw 651 Bound Boy Frank, the Young Amateur Detective, 6OS2 Wild Vulcany the Lone-Range Rider, 714 Old Misery the Man from Misgourl, 774 Clear-Grit Cal, the Never-Say-Die Detective. 7SY Sam Sheridan, the Secret Service Special, 806 Cowboy Steve the Ranch Mascot. S20 Nobby Nat, the Tenderfoot Detective. 886 Sharper Stoke’s Double Denl, 857 Spotter Bobin New York. 866 Spotter Bob’s Bowery Racket. BY JOS. E. BADGER, Jr. 2 VYellowatone Juck; or, The Trapper. 48 Black John, the Road-Agent; or, The Outlaw’s Retreat, i 65 Murricane Bills; or, Mustang Sam and His Pard, 119 Mustang Sam 3 or, The King of the Plains. 186 Night-Linwk Kit; or, The Davghter of the Ranch, 144 Dainty Lance the Boy Sport. 161 Panther Paul; or, Painvy Lance to the Rescue, 160 The Black Glanty: or, Dainty Lance in Jeopardy. 168 Deadly Dash; or, Fighting Fire with Fire. 154 The Boy Trailers; or, Dainty Lance on the War-Path. 208 The Boy Parda; or, Dainty Uance Unmasks, 211 Crooked Cale, the Caliban of Celestial City. 810 The Barranca Wolf; or, The Beautiful Decoy. 819 The Black Riders or, The Horse-Thieves’ League, 885 Old Double Fiat 855 The King of the Woods: or. Danie! Boone’s Last Trafl, 449 Kit Fox, the Border Boy Detective, 4 625 Chincapin Dan, the Boy Traller. 677 Chinecapin Dan’« Second Trail, 688 Chincapin Dan’« Home Stretch, 698 Old Crazy, the Man Without « Head, TOS Light-Heart Lute’s Legacy. TiS Light-Heart Lute’« Last Trall, 28 Silverblade, the Shoshone, 29 Silverblade, the Half-Blood; or, The Border Beagle at Bay, & 4 ~=—_—— 9 Silverblade, the Hostile; or, The Border Beag!o’s Trall, the Friendly; or, The Border Beagie’s Boy Pard » ‘ ~ ‘ z 748 Sliiverblade BY T. J. FLANAGAN, 909 Midshipman Dare, the Piriite Catcher, 925 The Young Cowboy Captain. ; 988 The Two Stidahipmen ; or, The Corsair-Chaser’s First | ~ Cruise. “ 940 The Three Lieutenants . 959 The Mascot Middy ; or, The Four Commanders, 966 Fighting Jack Shubrick, : 972 Fighting Jack’s Middles ; or, Dandy Dick’s Dash, 999 Jack Lang, the Privateer Rover. 1014 Middy Ned, the Runaway. BY GEORGE 0, JENKS, 485 Git Thar Owney the Unknown, 492 Git Thar Owney’s Pledge. B18 The Demon Doctor; or, Deadbold, the Kid Detective, 581 Double-Curve Dan, the Pitcher Detective. 508 Klute, the Singer Detective; or, Owney ina Now Role, 608 The Pi 616 The Ocean Detectives or, The LastCruise ofthe Black Bear, 681 The Pitcher Detective’«s Toughest Tussle. 786 Larry the Thoroughbred; or, Beaten on Every Side, 779 lron Wand, the Charmed Detective 854 Uncle Sam’s Detective in Chicago, BY BUOKSKIN SAM (Malor Sam. 8, Hall.) 284 Old Rocky s* Beyoess or, Benito, the Horse-Breaker, 246 Glant George; or, The Ang’! of the Range, 275 Arizona Jack ¢ or, Giant George's Parad, 297 The Tarantula of aos) or, Ginnt George's Revenge, 807 The Strange Pard; or, Little Ben’s Death Hunt, B18 merw neds Ker-whoo 3 or, The Tarantula of Taos, f 827 Creeping Oat, the Daddo; or, The Red and White Pardes, Wered i or, The Tonkaway’a rust. 844 The Fighting Trios or, Rattloanake, the Tonkaway, 849 Wild Wolf; or, Big-Foot Wallace to the Front, 857 The Ranch Raiders or, The Siege of Fort Pargatory, 864 Snap-Shot, the Boy Kanger, 875 Chiota, the Creek; or, The Three Thunderbolte, + Bandera Bill; or. Frio Frank to the Front, ; 892 Romeo and the Reda; or, The Boleaguerad Ranch, 404 Little Lariat; or, Pecan Pote’s Big Rampage. 4at The Witee Mentone Old Rock Rawpage, e Three Tratflera; or, ocky on th eB np pe nat 2S Attle Lone Star: or, The Balle of the Cibolo, 684 Cache Carl the Chico Giant. BY MAJOR E, L, ST. VRALN, 292 Rancho Pedro, the Boy Bandit, 801 Leadville Nick, the Boy Sport. 812 Redtop Rube, the Vigilante Prince. 888 Brimstone Bob, and His Lightning Horse Quartette, 852 Tombatone Tom, the Arizona Boy of “Sand.” B59 Duransvro Dave, the Young Chamnion Wrestlers | 871 Kingbolt Chria, the Yung Hard-Shell Detective, B80 Avalanche Alf, the Foothills Guide, 890 Jaguar Joe, of the Mountuin Mail-Line. BY WM. R. EYSTER, 190 Dandy Darke } or, The Tigers of High Pine. 210 es Sank t dy Dandy Darke’s Go-Down 818 The Hustler Heawe-Ontcher: em eee 2 - 962 Flip Fisp Fred at Hard Pan 69 Sport-Shadower ; or, Clark’s Close Shave, ‘ ret Hamty Hii Bonanza on The Bear-Tamer’s Thopaleas | 1002 Stx-Foot Sol, the Sharp-Shooter. 1049 Queen Edna of the Panthers, c *A New Issue Every Tuesday, 3 The Half-Dime Library i» tor sale vy all Nowsdealers, five oents per copy, or sent by mail on receipt of six conts each, BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 92 William Street, New York, or, The Strange Guide \ : tcher Detective’s Foll; or, Dan's Double Play, | —_———
Page 16
BEADLE'S« H ALF- DIME* LIBRARY. Published Every Tuesday. Hach Issue Complete and Sold at the Uniform Price of Five Cents, by all Newsdealers.. BY EDWARD L. WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novela, 7 Deadwood 100. Deadwood 104 Deadwood 109 Deadwood 129 Deadwood 188 Deadwood 149 Deadwood 166 Deadwood 195 Deadwood 201 Deadwood 205 Deadwood 217 Deadwood 221 Deadwood 282 Gold-Duast 268 Deadwood B68 Deadwood 809 Deadwood B21 Deadwood 847 Deadwood 851 Deadwood 862 Deadwood 405 Deadwood 410 Deadwood 421 Deadwood 480 Deadwood 448 Deadwood 445 Deadwood 458 Deadwood 459 Deadwood 465 Deadwood 471 Deadwood 476 Deadwood 451 Deadwood 491 Deadwood 496 Deadwood 500 Deadwood 508 Deadwood 5615 Deadwood 522 Deadwood 529 Veadweood 584 Deadwood 580 Deadwood 544 Deadwood 549 Deadwooa $54 Deadwood 56L Deadwood 567 Deadwood 572 Deadwood 578 Deadwood D 584 Deadwooe 500 Deadwood 595 Deadwood 600 Deadwood 606 Deadwood 612 Deadwood 680 Deadwood 686 Deadwood G42 Deadwood 648 Deadwood w 678 Deadwood 684 Deadwood 690 Deadwood 695 Deadwood 04 16 Deadwood 22 Deadwood 28 Deadwood 84 Deadwood 40 Deadwood one Deadwood 52 Deadwood 58 Deadwood 64 Deadwood ze Deadwood 6 Deadwood 82 Dead wooa 87 Deadwood 92 Deadwood 97 Deadwood 808 Deadwood 807 Deadwood 812 Deadwood 16 Deadwood 22 Deadwood aa Deadwood 884 Deadwood 840 Deadwood 845 Deadwood 852 Deadwood 855% Dead wood 68 Deadwood TO Dendwood S76 Deadwood S82 Deadwood SUL Deadwood 898 Dendwood ood Dick, J the Prince of the Road, Dick in Leadville. piek's af eye i The Doubdle Cross Sign. ek as Detective, Dick’a Double; or, The Gorgon’s Guich Ghost. Dick’s liome Kase; or, Blonde Bill. Dick’s Big Strike; or, A Game of Gold. Dilek of becadwoods or, The Picked Party. Dick’s Dreams or, The Rivals of the Road, Dick’s Wards or, The Black Hill’s Jezebel. Pere paces or, Calamity Jane’s Adventure, ek’a Dead Decal. Dick’s Death-Plant. Dick. A Romance of Roughs and Tovgha, 4 Pivide ore Spirit of Swamp Lake. ck’s Death Trail. Dick’s Deals or, The Gold Brick of Oregbn, Diek’s Dozen; or, The Fakir of Phantom Flats Dick’a Ducatas or, Days in the Diggings. pick Sentanseds or, The Terrible Vendetta, ck’s Claim. Dick in Dead City. Dick’s Diamonds, Dick in New VoOrks or, A “Cute Case.” Dick’a Wuat; or, The Chained Hand. Dick, Jr.s vr, The Crimson Crescent Sign, Dick, Jr.’«, Deflanee, Dick, Jr.’« Full Hand. Dick, Jr.’a, Big Round-Up. Dick Jr.’a Racket at Claim 10, Diek, Jr.’a Corral; or, Bozeman Bill. Dick, Jr’a, Dog Detective, Dick, Jr., In Deady ood, Dick, Jr.’a, Compact, Dick Jr.’a, Inheritance, Bite: go been: ’ va Deliverance, Bice $e gaseee™= “ «thy > Dick, Jr.'s, Danger Ducks, mee’ gee ° maath Hunt, ck, dre, in Texas. Dick, Jr., the Wild West Vidocq Dick, Jr., on Mia Mettle. Dick, Jr., in Gotham, Diek, Jr., in Boaton. Dick, Jdr., in Philadeiphia. q in Chleage, Vee oat. Dick. vr... in Denver. Dick, Jr.’«, Deorce, Dick Jr. in Reelzebub’s Basin, Dick Jr., at Coney Island, . Dick, dr.’s Leadville Lay. Dick, Jr., in Detroit. Dick. Jr. in Cincinnati, Dick, Jr., in Nevada. Dick, Jr., in No Man’s Land, Dick, Jr., After the Queer. Dick. Jr.. In Buffalo. Dick, dr.’a, Chase Across the Continent rv.» Among the Smugglers. Dick, dr.’a, Lnaurance Case. Dick, Jr., Back in the Mines, Dick, dr.» in Durangoy or, ‘ Gathered In.” picks sre pecerer7i or, Found a Fortune, ek, Jr’. Dazsic. Dick, Jr.'s. Dollara, Dick Jr., at Danger Divide. dr.’s, Drop. dr., at Jack-Pot. J rep in San Franeisco. er? or ren sunte ick, Jr’a Dominoes, Dick, dr.’s Diogulac, Diek, Jr.’s, Donble , Dick Jr.’s, Deathwateh, Dick Jr.’«, Voublet. Diek Jr,’a, Deathblow. Dick, Jr.’s Desperate Strait, Dik, grt pelea uy) . - Diek, Jr.’a, Resurrection. 9g Eh oe 5 Days. ce ree eed, Dick, Jr.’s, Double Device, Dick, Jr’.«. Desperate Venture. Dick, Jr.'s, Diamond Dice, ek J remy mere ba Dek, Sry Rival. Dick, Jr.'s, Boom. Dick, dr." Beoop. Dick, Jdr.’s, Prox Wek, JrJ«, Clutch. Dick, Jr.’s, High Horse. Vick Jr., at Devils Guich, Dick, Jr.’s, Peath-Hole Mustile, Dick, Jr.’« Bombshell, Diek, Jr., In Mexico. Dick, Jr’a Decoy Duck. Dilek, dr. in Silver Pocket. Dick, Jr.’«s, Dead-Suye Game, Dick, Jr’a, Double Drive. 904 VDendwood Vick, Jr’«, Trade-Mark. 910 Deadwood 916 Deadwood 928 Deadwood 984 te bhi 940 Deadwo #46 Deadwood 95L Deadwood P57 Deadwood 265 Deadwood P71 De P77 Deadwood ¥86 Deadwood 992 Deadwood 1005 ae18 101 Deadwo 4D ck, J-.’s._D Deadwood Dic , J .’s, Big Four. Dick, Jr., at Tip. Tom Dick, Jr.’a Double-Decker, ° Dick, Jr. at Dollarvilic, Dick, Jr.. at Flush Flats Diek. Jr.’a, a pakerep. Dick, Jr.’a, Double Drop. Dick, Jr.’a, Right Bower. Dick, Jr.’a, Ten-Btrtke. Dick, Jr.’s, Gold-Duat. wooed Dick Jr.’a, Oath, Dick, Jrv.7a, Death-Doom, Diek, Jr.’a, Beat Card, Dick, sree at Gold Dust. ick, HY ROBERT R. INMAN, 1086 Pandy Vick’« Pouble, 1024 Dandy Dick, Detective. BY MARCTS H. WARING, Three Spotter>. © Btreet potters’ Weird Hunt. The Three Spotters’ Dead Mystery. ee ae Other N ovels by E. L. Wheeler, 80 Rosebud Rob; or, Nugget Ned, the Knight. 84 Rosebud Rob on Hand; or, Idy!, the Girl Miner. 88 Rosebud Kob’s Resepes Eanecs or, Photograph Phil, 121 Rosebud RK 277 Denver Doll, the Detective ob’s Challenge; or, Cinnamon Chip. ueen; or, The Yankee's Surround 251 Denver Doll’s Victory; or, Skul! and Crossbones, 285 Denver Doll's Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza. 896 Denver Doll’s Drift; or, The Road Queen. 868 Yreka dim, 872 Yreka Jim the Gold-Gatherer; or, The Life Lottery, ” Prizes or, The Wolves of Wake-Up. 885 Yreka Jim’s Joker}; or, The Rivals of Red Nese, 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 Sierra Sam » the Frontier Ferret; or, A Sister’s Devotion, 248 Sierra Sams Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 258 Sierra Sam’s Pardy or, The Ange! of Big Vista, 258 Sierra Sam ’s Seven} or, The Stolen Bride. 884 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miner. 889 Kangaroo Kita Racket; or, The Pride of Played-Out, 89 Death-Face, Detective; or, Life in New York. 96 W Bteh- EY 4 the Detective; or, Arabs and Angels, 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective 145 Captain Ferret, the New York Detectlye, 61 New York N ell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 226 The Arab Detective ; or, Snoozer, the Boy Sharp. 291 Turk the Boy Ferret. 825 Kelley, Hicke 848 Manhattan i & WVo., the Detectives of Philadelphia, Mike, the Bowery Detective, 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. 416 High Wat Harry, the Base Ball Detective, 426 Sam Slabaides, the Beggar-Boy Detective. 484 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. 26 Cloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon; or, The Border Vultures, 82 Bob Woolf 3_or, The Girl Dead-Shot. 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand, 58 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix. 61 Buckhorn I Sills; or, The Red Rifle Team 92 Canada Chet; or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s-Camp- 118 Jacek Hoyle the Young Speculator. 125 Bonanza Bill, Miner; or, Madam Mystery, the Forger. 188 Bowes Bob the King of Bootblacka, Wild 78 Jumbo Jo B80 Little B58 Firat-Clasa 878 Nabob Ned 1 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent; or, The Branded Brows, Nobby Nick of Nevaday or, The Sierras Scampa. rank the Buckskin Bravo; or, Lady Lily’s Love, Apollo Bill, the Trail Tornado; or, Rowdy Kate. @ Cyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator; or, The Locked Valley. the Boy Patro}; or, The Rival Heirs. ulck-Shot or, lhe Dead Face of Daggersville. Fred, the Gent trom Gopher. + or, The Secret of Slab City. BSB Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, 488 Santa Fe 8 al, the Slasher; or, A Son’s Vengeance. 486 Sealakin Sam, the Sparkler; or The Tribunal of Ten, 918 Kit Keith, t e Revenue Spotter. 922 Sol Sharpe, the New York Night-Hawk. 948 Old Hayseed Among Bunco ens 1001 Banty, the Denver Bootblack, BY J. C. COWDRICK, 490 Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. 514 Broadway Billy’s 586 Breadway Billy’s Beodle; or, Clearing aStrange Case, *‘pimkiity.” 557 Broadway Billy’s Peath Racket. 579 Broadway 605 Broadway 628 Broadway 669 Broadway Billy’s Surprise Party. Billy; or, The Boy Detective’s Big Inning. Billy’« Dead Acts or, The League of Seven. Billy Abroad; or, The Bootblack in Frisco. 675 Broadway Billy’s Bests or, Beating San Francisco's Finest, 687 Broadway 696 Broadway 708 Broadway 711 Broadway 720 Broadway 785 Broadway 788 Broadway 758 Broadway 762 Broadway 769 Broadway 775 Broadway 788 Broadway 736 roadway 790 Broadway 706 Broadway 800 Hroadway 803 Brondway 810 Broadway 415 Broadway 821 Kroadway 826 Brondway 488 Hroadway 889 Broadway 844 Broadway 849 Broadway 856 Broadway 862 Broadway 868 Broadway 874 Broa lway 880 broadway Billy in Clover. Billy in Texas; or, The River Rustlers, Billy’s Brand, Billy at Santa Fe; or, The Clever Deal. Billy’« }'ull Wands or, The Gamin Detective, Billy’s Business. Billy’s Curlous Case. Billy tn Denver, Billy’s Bargain; or, The Three Detective, Billy, the Retriever Detective, Billy's Shadow Chase, : Billy’s Beagles; or, The Trio’s Quest, Billy’a Teamy; or, The Combine’s Big Pall, Billy’s Brigade; or, The Dead Alive, Billy’s Queer Bequest, Billy Naffed, Billy’s Signal Scoop. Billy's Wipe Out. li Bank Racket. y’s Bluff. Bully Among Jersey Thugs. Billy's Raik Baas Big Boom, illy’s Ble Bulge. Billy's 100,000 Snap. Billy’s Blind; or, The Bootblack Stowaway. Billy in London. Billy Shadows London Slums, Rilly’s French Game, Billy and the Bomb-Throwers. 860 Silver-Masky the Map of Mystery; or, The Golden Keys, B69 Shasta, the Gold King or, For Seven Years Dead, A420 The Detective’s Apprentice; or, A Boy Without a Name, 424 Cibuia Jon ny or, Red-Hot Times at Ante Bar, Sandy Sam, the Street Scout. 489 467 Diaco Dan, the Daley Dude. ie 506 Redlight R alph - the Prince of the Road, 524 The Engineer Detective; or, Redlight Ralph’s Resolve 548 Mart, the Night Express Detective. 571 Alr-Line Luke the Young Engineer; or, 592 lhe Boy Pinkerton; or, Running the 615 Fighting Marr The Dovble Case Rascals Out. the Chief of Chained Cyclone. 640 Rareback Beth, the Centaur of the Circle, 647 Tyvewrlter Tilly the 659 Moonlight S&7 Battery Bob. 894 Arizona Di 900 Jumping Jack’s 906 Safety Sam 912 Train Boy 918 The Trump Dock-Bo 924 Big Roota Merchant’s Ward. Morgan the “ Pizenest ”? Man of Ante Bar, the Dock Detective. ck’s W iIpe-Out. ubllee, the Cyele Sport. rist’s Wot Hustle, Bob, the Fire-Laddle. 980 Kuatler Ralph, the Boy Spotter. 985 Th aig 960 The Broad 947 1000 Reward; or, The Rival Reporters’ 978 Bantam Bi 978 e Ex-Newshoy 941 The Bowling Green Cowboy Ch The Bowery W reatler; or, The 958 Paddy’s Trump Card; or, Silver Sallie, Plucky Pat, t 989 Bicycle Bob’s Hot Scorch, Detective’s Chum. Jetective’s Drop. arlie’« Double. He tas Butcher-Boy’s Backer, the Girl Sport. way Sports or, Fiver Fred’s Clear Case. Sleek Scoop. the Corker-Ferret. lly. he Street-Boy Detective, 997 Reorerer Sam, the Detective on Wheels, 1004 Seorcher Kam’s Sweep-Stakes. 1009 ‘pe Girl Cy clisa’s Waning Hand, BY ARIZONA OY. Ret Bob from Cross Crick, Bet Bob’s_Circus, BUFFALO BILL NOVELS, BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM, 1052 Buffalo Billin Diaguise. 1046 Goid Plume, the Boy Bandit,; or, Buffalo Bill, the Pony Exprees Rider. 1042 Little Grit, the Pony Express Rider. 1040 Buffalo Bill's Pony Patrol. 1018 Buffalo Bills Texas Team, 1007 Bnuifalo Bill’s Sure-Shotsa, 1000 Buffalo Kills Decoy Boys, 2 995 Buffalo Bill's Drop; or, Dead-Shot Ned , the Kansas Kid, 988 Buffalo Bill’s Lasso Throwers, 981 Buffalo Bills Fighting Five, 975. Buffalo Bill’s Rifle Shots. 968 Buffalo Bills Kush Ride; or, Sure-Shot, the High-Flyer, 964 Buffalo Bills Decoy; or, The Arizona Crack Shot, 958 Buffalo Bill’« Mazeppa-Chase. 948 Buffalo Bill’s Snap-Shot 3 or, Wild Kid’s Texan Tally 942 Buffalo Bill's Tough Tussle. 986 Buffalo Bill’s Boy Mascot; or, Joe Jarvis’ Hold-up. 929 Buffalo Bis Crack-shot Pard. 650 Buffalo Bill's Boy Pard; or, Batterfly Billy. 216 Bison Bll, the Prince of the Reims, 222 Bisen Bill’« Clue; or. Grit, the Biavo Sport, BY BUFFALO BILL, 5&5 Deadly-Eye. the Unknown Scout, or, The Banded Brotherhood 68 Border Robin Hood; or, The Prairle Rover. 158 Fancy Frank of Colorado }.or, The Trapper’s Trust. 1029 The Phantom Spy. 1088 Kansas hing; or, The Red Right Hand. BY CAPT, ALFRED B. TAYLOR, U, 58, A. 191 Baffalo Billy, the Boy Bullwhacker. 194 Buffalo Bill's Bet; or, The Gambler Guide, BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM. 1087 The Ariist Detective. 1084 The Gold Witch’s Shadower. 1081 The Texun Hustlers m ¢ uba. 1027 The Cowboy Raiders in Cuba 1025 The Flying \ ankee or, The Ocean Outcast, 1028 The Cowboy Clan in Cu’ a. 1016 The Boy Bugler in Cuba. : 982 New York Nat’s Drop: or, Ex-Ferret Sykes’ Bold Gare 926 New York Nat and the Traitor Ferret, 920 New York Nat Trapped. i 914 New York Navts Three of a Kind. 908 New York Nat's Double. 902 New York Nat’s in Colorado, 896 New York Nat In Gold Nugget Camp. 889 New York Nat’s Deadly Deal, 888 New York Nat’sa Crook-Chase, 87% New York Nat’s Trump .Card, SZ7l New York Nat and the Grave Ghouls, 865 New York Nat’ Masked Mascot. 859 New York Nat, the Gamin Detective. 858 Dick Doom’sa Kidnapper Knock-Out, 847 Dick Doom’s Ten Strike. 842 Dick Doom’s Flush Hand. 772 Dick Doom’s Veath-Grip; or, The Detective by Destiny 777 Wick Doom’a Destiny; or, The River Blackleg’s Terror. 784 Dick Doom; or. Ihe Sharps and Sharks of New York, 788 Dick Doom in Boston; or, A Man of Mdny Maske. 798 Dick Doom tn Chicago. 798 Dick Doom in the Wild Weat. 808 Dick Doom’s Clean Sweep; or, 808 Dick Doom’s Death Clue. 818 Dick Doom’s Diamond Deal, 819 Dick Doom’a Girl Mascot, 829 Dick Doom’s Shadow Ilunt. t49 Dek Deon ih Mul. ceniucky Tenderfoot’s Fist Trail ne ‘harliet or é Kentuc. en: 8 a mr 5 Deatiny; or. The Renegade’s Captivel Five Links in a Clue. BY LIEUT. A. K, SIMS. 589 Tom-Cat and Pardy or, The Dead Set at Silver City. 622 Tom-Cat’s Triad; or, The Affuir at Tombstone, 681 Tom Cat’a Terrible Task; or, The Cowboy Detective 688 Tom-Cat’s Triumph} or, Black Dan’s Great < mbine, 5646 Captain Cactua, the Chaparral Cock; or, Josh’s Ten Strike. 568 The Dandy of Dodge; or, Rustling for Millions. 576 The Silver Sport: or, Josh Peppermint’s Jubilee, 588 Saffron Sol, the Man With a Shadow 601 Happy Mana, the Dutch Videcq; or, Hot Timesat Round-Upt 61L Bil “4! Barnacle, the Detective Hercules. 646 Cowboy Gid, the Cattle-Range Detective. 657 Warbling William the Mountain Mountebank, 665 Jolly Jeremiah, ths Plaina Detective. _ the kout Scout. Sie ii A the ¢ ypay Spy: or, The Mystery of Two Lives, 699 Bimple Sim, the Broncho Buster: or, For Stakes, 712 The Meameriat Sport; or, The Mystified ee 88 Toltee Tom, the Mad Prospector. 45 Kansas Jim the Cross-Cut Detective. 761 Marmaduke, the Mustanger Detective. Rtone. 78 The eruatiog ee Rolling vec «Ne 801 Kent Kirby, the High-Kicker from Killbuck. The Doctor Dete etive In Texan, 872 Two Showmen : 987 The Texan Firebrand: or, Brazos Billy’s 961 The Tramp’s Trump-Trick. NEW ISSUES, By Robert R. Inman, Petectives in € Rit y 1064 Dandy Dick Decoyed.’ B; hot Seth, the Boy Rifleman. By Ol! Coomes. ese Kure Bho Seth the Des rt Centaur, Hy W. W. Wilder, You Bet Rob's Jangle.__By Arizona Cy- IO 0s The Cruise of the Sea Wo f: By Col. Ingraham, 1069 On Land and fea. By Braceb idge Hemyng 1070 Nat Sead; cr a Fate fe eae “- ) Vv . 5 iors Keon Knite, Prince of the Prairies. By Oll Coomes. JUST ISSUED. By Col. P. Ingraham ‘| ] bar. By Wm, W. Wilder. Chris in Cinnabar EA. 1. Wheeler. B By. J Flanagan - By Tri xas Jack, e. ig Halen. Ingraham. the Boy Knight, By Coomes ‘ , By Bracebridge Hemyng- oe. By Wm. G Patten, A New Issue Every Tuesday- The Half. Library {2 for sale by all newsdealers, five Caeee seems Uy tual! ox toceipt ot six Comba eae “BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 92 William Street, New York, By Ellis, *