Beadle's Half Dime Library (no. 1090) (1899 06)
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ee x (aml Lg a il as S220 i tN ete ris Oi oa. TSN , Coprricur, 1892, BY | BEADLE & ADAMS. 7) ~ ENTERED A8 SECOND sOND CLASS MATTER AT THE New Yoru, N, Y., Post Orvicn. Junr, 189% SS = — — — ee = 5 A f = Pee AT Y | ‘No. ‘Ho, 4090, Published Erey M+ IVERS & ©O.. Pablinhers, prog 5 CENTS Vol ML Month. : 50c. a Year. 379 Pear! Street, New York. jie Joe ie = unig Lal By Charles Morris, E. L. Wheeler, J. C. ms Wy) pa Uw + WT i | h ANU DIMI ily r 44 a oe pal ip ad sd Si ; hy i a IH lil uy
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2 Jubilee Joe, The Chain-Lightning Detective; : OR, The Lamb in the Wolfs Den, BY MAJOR E. L, ST. VRAIN, E. L, WHEELER, CHARLES MORRIS, WM. R. EYSTER, T. OC. HARBAUGH, FRANK DUMONT, CAPT, MARK WILTON, J. C, COWDRICK, AND DETECTIVE DOUGLASS. CHAPTER I. [BY J. C. COWDRICK.] A NIGHT-SCENE IN THE QUAKER CITY. * PHILADELPHIA, 1876. A beautiful night in mid-summer. The moon, in all its glory, round-faced and olden, hung over the city, and shed its mellow i ht upon the busy scenes, while the thousands of stars in the vast, unmeasured space beyond, shone like brilliant diamonds set in the blue dome of the heavens. For many weeks past the staid old city had been in an unusual uproar, night and day. Uncle Sam’s 8 Theos Jubilee show in honor of his one-hundredth birthday was at its hight; and thousands upon thousands of children were there from all parts of his broad domain. Hotels and lodging-houses were filled, to’ their utmost capacity, and still hundreds of pee could find no place to lay théir’weary heads. From morn till night, and fron night till morn again, the streets were crowdéd. ‘At the stations of the Various railroads especi- ally, the crowd was an almost constant feature. People were coming and people were going at all hours, day and night. On this. particular night the station of the yonnas nia Railroad, at Thirty-second and Markét)streets, late as the hour was, presented an unusual scene of hurry, bustle and con- fusion. « Trains were late, owing to a hitch somewhere along, the line of that great iron highway, and the crowd was: unusually large; Between the waiting-rooms and the gates leading to the train-shed, was one solidymass of humanity. The gates being opened, the crowd gradually melted away, and in’a short time trains were coming and going as eg it was after two o’elock in the morning when the last section ofa belated train from the West rolled into the station, and its passengers, when per alighted, looked weary and travel-worn in- One among them was a strikingly-beautiful girl, perhaps eighteen years of age, who appeared to be traveling entirely alone. In her hand she carried a small grip-sack, which was, as after- ward appeared, the only baggage she possessed. On stepping from the train she looked half- timidly around for a moment, and then followed the other x pega: toward the exit gates. The train had stopped on the second track from the long platform: on Thirty-second street, which was used chiefly for the delivery of milk from the cars of the milk-train, and some parts of which were in deep shadow, The girl had almost reached the gates, when suddenly a man sprung down from the platform . mentioned, where he had been standing in the shadow at the end of the baggage-room, snatch- ed the yrip-sack from her hand, and sprung back again ere she could scarcely realize what had sc. 5 gga ‘he next mstant though she uttered aloud ery, and tried to follow the thief, but the plat- form proved too high for her to get upon. ** What's th’ matter?” suddenly inquired a boy, who raised himself from a baggage-truck where he had lain down to catch a few hours of sleep, and whom the girl’s ery awakened. ' ‘*That man!” cried the girl, pointing to the retreating form of the thief, who was fast disap- ing across an adjacent vacant lot, ‘‘ he has stolen my hand-bag!’ Waiting to hear no more, the boy sprung up and started in pursuit; but, unfortunately, as he darted across the platform he fell, and for a mo- sae almost senseless from the force of the? oc When he regained his feet, the man was out of sight. This boy was a fair sample of the city’s street- Arab, or gamin. His name was Joe Bindley, but of late he had been dubbed, by his boy com- spss Jubilee Joe, the Chain-Lightning D panions, ‘‘ Jubilee Joe.” He was about fifteen ears of age, strong and well-built, and, when his face was clean, decidedly good-looking. He was a favorite with the railroad men at the station, and was allowed to come and go at will, and tosleep where he would, so long as he chose a place where he was out of the way. Thus it was that he was asleep on the truck under the train-shed on the night of which I ‘write. Seeing that it was useless to attempt to follow the man further, he turned back, and sprung down from the platform to where the girl was standing, now weeping bitterly. ‘*T guess your hand-bag is a goner, miss,” he said. ‘‘ No use chasin’ a man after he’s got out of sight. Don’t ery though, but come along and tell th’ station-master about it.” And the boy conducted the poor girl into the ladies’ waiting- room, and then set out to find the official he had named. ‘* Where is the young lady?” the station-mas- ter asked, when he found a moment to spare to listen to the boy’s story. “*She’s in th’ ladies’ waitin’-room,” was the reply. ‘‘Come, an’ I'll show her to you.” he station-master followed his young guide, and the girl was soon found. “‘T am the station-master, miss,” he said. ‘* This boy tells me you have been robbed. It is really too bad. Is there anything I can do for you? Shall I send for a carriage to take you to your friends?” ‘*Oh, sir, I have no friends!” the girl sobbed; “not a friend in all the world.” ** Where are you going?” *“*T hardly know, sir. I came here, from a small town near Lancaster, to find employment. My aunt died a few weeks ago, and she was the only friend I had.” ‘** But, surely,” said the station-master, kindly, *“you must have had some objective point in view, when you started alone to come to this great city?” ‘*T had the address of a lady, sir,” the girl re- lied, *‘ which was spicy to me by a lady at ncaster, to whom I told my story. But that, as well as most of the little sum of money I pos- sessed, was in my hand-bag. I am almost pen- niless. Oh! what will I do?’ “ Can you not remember the lady’s name and address?” ‘*T remember her name, sir, Mrs. Bradford; but I cannot remember where she lives.” ‘** May I ask your name?” 93 4 name is Laura Murray, sir.” ** Well, can we not ie) to your friend at Lancaster, and thus obtain Mrs. Bradford’s ad- dress for you?” ‘*Most unfortunately, sir, that lady’s card, with her address on it, was in my hand-bag too. I do not now remember even her name.” ‘“'Then she was a stranger to you?” ‘Yes, sir. She spdke kindly to me when she saw me weéping in the station at Lancaster, and I told her my story.” ‘You are unfortunate, indeed, "You must re- main here till daylight, and then I will try and do something for you, Meanwhilé beware of strangers. o not make friends too readily with any one who may address you.” ‘Oh! thank you, sir!” the girl exclaimed. **-You are kind. I will do as you say.” The station-master and Jubilee Joe turned away, leaving the girl alone. Neither of them had noticed the evil-looking face of a man who had been listening to the conversation, standing just outside one of the open windows, “So,” that man muttered. to himself, as he, too, turned and walked away, ‘‘ your name is Laura Murray, is it. miss? And you'd like to find a Mrs. Bradford? Now, I wonder if J can’t help you out of your difficulty?” and as he mut- tered the words he winked one of his cruel eyes in a sly and knowing manner. Going around to the opposite side of the sta- tion, he roused a sleeping cabman, held a short conversation with him, and then returned and made his way, with a business-like air, direct to the station-master’s office. : “(Ts the last train from Lancaster in, sir?’ he asked, ; ‘Yes, sir; just arrived a few minutes ago.” ‘“‘ Did you notice a young lady, sir, who came alone, and who no doubt acted like a cat in a strange garret?” ‘*T didsee such a person,” the station-master answered; ‘‘ but who are you, sir?” ‘*My name is Gibbs. I am in the employ of Mrs. Bradford,who resides on Bainbridge street. She received a telegram last evening from a friend at Lancaster to look out fora young lady, a Miss Murray, coming in on a late train, alone; and I’ve been kept a-runnin’ here all night to etective. find her: sir?” ‘* Yes,” said the station-master; ‘‘ but wait a moment, please.” And he went into the ladies’ waiting-room again and spoke to the friendless girl. / “Do you think Ae would remember the name of the street on which Mrs. Bradford resides, if you heard it spoken?” he asked. ; ‘¢T think I would, sir; I read it over so many times. It isstrange that it slipped my mind at all.” ‘‘Was it Bainbridge street?” ‘*Oh, yes; that is the name; I am sure!” the girl cried joyfully. Cruel fate! How, among the hundreds of streets in the great city had the man happened to name the right one? Was there a plot back of it all which did not appear on the surface? or,, was the girl mistaken? Returning to’ the office, the station-master Do you say you did’see such a persen,, said: ‘The young lady you are Iooking for is in the waiting-room. Come, and I’ll point her out te uw.” And he led the way. ‘‘That jigger may be true blue,” muttered Jubilee Joe, who was in the office and had lis— tened to the man’s stery, ‘but I don’t just fan- cy th’ cut of his jib. I guess Jubilee Joseph wilk have to go along, and see th’ end of this little af- fair. And hurrying out to the truck where he had. been sleeping, he put his hlacking-box in a safe- place—for he was a boot-black, be it known— and then sauntered around to where he could see: and hear all that took placein the ladies’ waiting- room, ‘¢ Excuse me, miss,” said the man proached the girl je sag eli with master, ‘is your name Murray?” ¢ Yes, sir.” ‘And are you from Lancaster? and looking for Mrs. Bradford, who resides on Bainbridge street?” Yes; air? ‘Then I am here to take you to her home. She received a telegram last evening from a lady friend at Lancaster, requesting her to look out for you. , Are you ready to go?” The girl looked to the station-master, helpless- ly, to see what her reply should be. ‘““T think it is all right,” the station-master said, ‘* But,” he added, turning to the man, ** who is this Mrs. Bradford?” ‘‘She is a well-to-do lady, sir, who devotes: most of her time to themany charitable societies. to which she belongs,” ‘¢ Well, miss, I think you have found good. friends,” the station-master then said, ‘‘and I would advise you to go to the lady at once.” ‘* Very well,” said the girl, as she rose from her seat, ‘‘ I am ready.” She thanked the station-master for his kind ness, and the man then led the way from the room. Opening the door of a cab, which stood. near by, the driver of which was the one he had spoken to a few minutes previously on the oppo- site side of the station, he assisted the girl to en- ter, and then springing up on the seat beside the driver he said ‘‘Home,” and the cab, whirled away. ’ Meanwhile, on seeing the cab the girl was to enter, Jubilee Joe left the station and posted himself in the shadow of the wall over the mouth of the tunnel of the Junction Railroad, and when the cab came down and turned into Market street he sprung out and caught hold be- hind, swinging his feet up underneath as only a street-boy can. ‘“‘Bet your new shoes with th’ Centennial buckles on, old hoss,” he said to himself, ‘‘ if'ev- erything ain’t O. K. here you’ll hear music in the air, or my name ain’t Joe. I’m chain-light- ning after you—you bet!” Little did the poor girl dream’ that she had such a friend so near at hand, nor the man, that such a spy was on his track. - When the cab came to the Market street bridge, however, a policeman, noble specimen of his kind, cried out: ‘* Hi! there, boy! git off that kerr’age! There’s a boy on behind, driver!” The cab was stopped at ence, and Joe had to drop cff and take th his beels, He started torun in the same direction the cab was going, but the policeman stopped him. ‘“No, ye don’t!” said the officer. “‘ You want to run ahead, an then ketch on ag’in. You can’t do it this time, though. You'd best go back th’ way ye came.” “Say, you great, big, overgrown monument of ignorance!” cried Joe, “if I were only big enough, I'd kick th’ stuffin’ out of you! To hear when he ap- the station-
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Jubilee Joe, the Chain-Lightning Detective. 3 ou talk, any one might think you own this vil- 1 You just let me go past!” *“* You’ve got too much tongue, boy,” said the policeman, as he tried to catch hold of Joe, which was impossible, ‘‘an’ if I git hold of ye Ill twist yer ears fer ye.” “Tf you do!” Joe cried, ‘‘an’ Pll take care that you dow’t! Say, are you goin’ to let me BS ENot till I pull yer ears, I ain’t.” ** Look out, then, for ’m a-goin’! I’m chain- lightning—I am!” and as he uttered these words Joe tried to dodge by. It was some moments though, before he succeeded in doing so and then the cab had cleared the bridge, turned into a cross-street, and was out of sight. “Hang policemen!” cried Jubilee, when out of the officer’s reach. ‘‘ Now, I’ve lost that cab, after all! Never mind, though; Ill bet I left a scratch on the back of it that won’t wash off in | ahurry!” And, as he spoke, he drew from his pocket a large nail, with which he had made the mark and w it at the offending officer. CHAPTER II. [BY ED. L. WHEELER.,] MR. ANDREW ALLAN. AurHouGs frustrated in his attempt to follow the carriage, Jubilee Joe was not discouraged, for he reasoned that he would see it again at the dep6t, and thus stand a fair chance of learning to what part of Bainbridge street Miss Murray had been driven. That Gibbs was a rascal he now was satisfied, and therefore meant no good to the girl. Deliberating a few minutes, Joe continued down Market street to Kighteenth—into which the carriage had turned, going southward; but when Joe reached the corner it was nowhere in sight. ** Well, I’m losin’ time for nothin’, by goin’ it blind,” Joe mused, passing through Eighteenth to Chestnut, and then going westward again, en route to the depot. ‘1 guess it won’t gain me anything to search any further, until I kin get on track of the carriage. Blame that copper! ef I kin fall onter any sick eggs I'll give him a pep- rin’ with ’em, some dark night. ’Ca’se sum big-futted fureigners git blue togs and brass but- tons, they caleylate they kin run ther hull vil- n lage. Cromisig Chestnut street bridge he thus avoid- ed another encounter with the officer, and reach- ed the depét in safety. After a stroll through the crowd in the great station-house Joe passed over to the south side of Market street, where he entered a drug store which he knew was open all night, to examine the City Directory. Turning to the ‘‘ B” index, he sought thename of ‘‘ Bradford ;” but although the name was not an uncommon one, there chanced to be no one of that name living on Bainbridge street. ‘That settles that,” he mused. Then he turned over leaf after leaf, until he came to thename of ** Gibbs.” There happened to be more Gibbses than Brad- fords, and examination elicited the fact that one Archibald Gibbs lived at No. — Bainbridge | street. ‘“‘ That’s my man,” Joesoliloquized, as he closed the Directory. “ft happen to know purty well where that locality is, and I’ll not more than wait fer daybreak ere I'll know something about Miss Murray’s whereabouts.” Returning to the depdt, he sought the station- master and informed him of his suspicions, his search of the Directory, and its result. ‘*That Gibbsy is a snoozer, if I know boarding- house stew from luxury!” he declared; ‘‘ and I’m *feard th’ young leddy hes fallen inter bad company, sir!” ‘**Oh, I guess not, Jubilee,” the station-master replied, wearily, for his numerous duties had lainly fatigued him. ‘‘ The fellow appeared to Sacer what he was talking about, and I presume if you take the pains you will find Miss Murray savely quartered with her friend.” . **Mebbe,” Joe said, doubtfully, ‘ but I don’t | blieve it. At any rate, I’m goin’ to investigate the matter; and if you see Gibbsy around here again, keep an eye on him, and see if you don’t ketch him up to other fly tricks.” Promising to do so. the station-master turned away, evidently not taking much stock in the gamin’s suspicion, while Joe, seeing no prospect of getting any more jobs during the night, stow- ed himself away on a truck for a couple of hours’ much-needed rest and repose. As soon as it came daylight he was up and bustling about, wide awake and jolly. Ere the street-railway passenger-traffic had fairly begun he had earned nearly a dollar, and was preparing to start off down-town when he was ‘‘ shouldered” by a recent train-arrival —a man aged about twenty-six years, trimly built, neatly dressed, and decidedly good-looking —skin of Grecian whiteness, a delicate blonde mustache, eyes pale and lustrous, yet keen and penetrating in their glance. Yet, something in his nervous demeanor once arrested the observant lad’s attention. ‘* Excuse me, my boy,” he said, as his hand fell upon Jubilee’s shoulder; ‘‘ I would like a lit- tle information, Will you grant it?” Joe’s keen eyes made a lightning inventory of the questioner before he vouchsafed a reply. ‘“ Well, [reckon I can try,” he answered with a twinkle in his eye, ‘‘although I'll take it for granted that Ulysses ain’t in the city, at pres- ent. D’ye wanter know where Broad and Four- teenth street is? or has some one been goin’ through yer?” ‘* Well, no—that is, not exactly. You see, I am a stranger in Philadelphia; and I presumed I might learn from you or one of your sort that which I want to know, without taking the trou- ble to hunt a Directory.” “One of my sort!” Joe ejaculated. ‘‘See here! what fer a sort d’ye take me fer, any- how?” ‘Why, astreet-Arab, to be sure, my son. You do not presume to be an alderman or the mayor, do you?” ‘“ Nix-ee, McGinnis! but I do presume to weigh just as many ounces to th’ pound, and do resume to consider myself jes’ as honest as ther iggest of em, plug hat an’ all. So, if there’s anys you want to know, spit ’er out!” “Well, what I want to know is this: Do you know'the location of the —— Insurance Com- pany’s office?” ‘* As wellas I know ther nose on my face when there’s a dead cat in ther gutter,” Joe promptly responded, ‘‘an’ my nose ain’t partial to cats, nohow.” ‘* Well, where is the office?” was the next in- quiry of the stranger, who was evidently no ad- mirer of Joseph’s ready tongue. ‘*See here!” the boy said, giving his interro- gator another glance from head to foot, ‘‘ before you go to askin’ too many questions about cor- rations an’ the like, supposin’ ye give us a nint as to yer-name, antecedents, bizness stand- in’ an’ bank account? We slow sort, as hangs around here, are onter all o’ ther fast inquiries, an’ our love fer ther Declaration of Independ- erice won't ‘low us ter git took in by any sharps, if we can help ourselves. See?” The stranger turned partly upon his heel, with an expression of disgust upon his counte- ce, ‘Will you, or will you not, answer my ques- tion?” he demanded, impatiently. “Oh! you bet I will!” Joe replied, ‘‘ an’ what’s more, I'll conduct ye right to ther place ef yall ane a dollar a-glidin’ down inter my ket. ; “Tt’s a bargain, my boy—it’s a bargain!” ‘* Well, the office will be a pace by the time we kin git there,” Joe replied, glancing at the clock in the waiting-room; ‘‘so fork over yer dollar if I’m goin’ ter steer ther boat. Bizness is bullion to me.” The man produced a ‘well-filled purse, and gave Joe the required price; then they boarded ®, car eastward bound. Little did the sharp and shrewd gamin im- agine then that the man he was guiding knew the city as well, if not even better, than he knew it himself! Half an hour later saw them in the vicinity of Fourth and Chestnut streets, where they en- tered a prominent insurance office. Joe passed inside with the man he had guided without being invited to do.so} but impelled by a desire to know the stranger’s business. ‘*My name is Allan—Andrew Allan,” the stranger said, in reply to an interrogation as to what could be done forhim, ‘I wish to take out an insurance policy on my life; and as the business standing of this corporation has been favorably reported to me I have concluded to deal with you.” ‘* We shall be glad to add your name to our already long list of policy-holders, Mr. Allan,” said the vice-president, Mr. Ezra Bond, who had opened the interview. ‘‘ Do you desire to insure ree ” ioe ie - “ST dos sir. Ithough physic in perfect health, I have for ena months had a forebod- ing that I will not live to see the end of the pres- ent year. Of course, it is but a foreboding; nevertheless it sometimes gives me great depres- sion of spirits; so I have concluded to make the nec provisions in behalf of a dear friend, in case I am suddenly taken off.” “Oh, certainly! certainly! It is a duty which we owe to our friends to leave behind us some provision for their protection,” the vige- president said, with reassuring business tact. “I shall be happy to fill out a form for you. Your name is yee a Allan. Of what place?” ‘*Of Lancaster, this State.” ** Your age?” ‘* Twenty-six years, three months, and ten days.” ‘Your busiless occupation?” ‘Simply that of goentleman-of-leisure,” ‘*T presume you are familiarly known in Lan- caster?” ‘““T am not, sir. Although I have resided there several years, I have but few speaking-ac- quaintances, and yet, I imagine, almost any one on the street could point me out and call me by name,” ‘*Oh, yes: of course. And, now about the amount you wish to insure for, Mr, Allan?” Allan was silent a moment, apparently in re- secon his gaze directed upon the polished oor. ‘‘ Why, twenty thousand dollars, I guess,” he said, finally. ‘“‘I can carry that amount with- out embarrassment.” ‘To whom is this amount to be made payable, in case of your death?’ “To Laura Murray!” Jubilee Joe could scarce repress an exclama- tion of astonishment. He did, however, and Allan did not notice his great surprise and interest. ‘¢ What place is this young lady a resident of?” the interrogator went on. ‘*God only knows—I do not!” Allan replied, manifesting considerable agitation. ‘The last I knew of her she lived in Pittsburg. We were engaged to be married when we were children, though I have never seen the young si in my” life, or at least not since we were children in England. That she is living, however, I have no doubt; and in case of my death I wish a search to be made for her until, living or dead, she is found; the cost of the search to be deducted from the amount of the policy. My lawyer isso instructed.” ‘* You understand, I suppose, Mr, Allan,” the vice-president added, ‘‘ that you must undergo a medical examination by our physician?” ‘** Certainly, sir.” The company’s physician was called, and after the usual examination he declared the applicant to be in perfectly sound health, ‘*Tt is as [told you,” Allan remarked; ‘‘ Inever felt better. I have just returned from a sea voyage. I shall os a few days here in the city, and then get home to Lancaster.” Mr. Bond busied himself at writing for several minutes—then looked inquiringly at the watch- ful Joe. ‘*This lad—?” he began. “Ts merely a street Arab I employed to show me the way here,” Allan replied. ‘‘I guess I will not require your services any longer,” he added, turning to Joe. ‘‘I can find my way around now, I presume.” Joe arose aud bowed himself out of their pres- ence. ** All right, Mr, Allan,” he mused; “if that’s all you want of me, ’'m not kickin’; but I’ve tumbled onto somethin’ that will make Laura Murray smole a smile, in case you should give up the ghost this Centennial year. It stmkes me ruther a leetle curious, though, how Laura Murray could live near Lancaster, as she said, and also at Pittsburg, as you say. Ill bet my boots there’s a full-grown colored gentleman in th’ fence somewhere! “Yer age is twenty-six years, three months an’ ten days, aire it? Ill jest remember that.” CHAPTER IIT. [BY E. LL. WHEELER.) JOE ON THE TRAIL, Jor did not tarry in the vicinity, but betook himself thoughtfully toward Bainbridge street. ‘* His royal jigs don’t kinder expect he’s goin’ to last th’ year out, eh?” he mused as hestrodealong. ‘‘ Wonder how a feller would feel wi’ that opin- ion of hisself these times of ‘ skin yer neighbor? ‘Strikes me most people would be lookin’ about smart fer a cast-iron refrigerator filled with unmeltable ice. ’Stead o? that, Andy, th’ dear old duck, is figgerin’ fer stamps; an’ m name ain’t Jubilee Joe ef I ain’t dead onto haze. He wants ter shuffle off in style, an’ go to ther funeral wi’ brass-band accompaniment. Ef he leaves his boodle to Laura, he reckons on her givin’ him a first-class send-off. Howsomever, presume ef Laura knew of th’ prospects ahead, she’d go ter work in a laundry and save u money aon: ter provide ther brass band, righ , tho’, ef I hunt her up, an’ can J away. May
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4 find his nibs, an’ they make up ai’ get married, his nibs will be so tickled that he’ll commit sui- | tide an’ leave me the twenty thousand! My, oh! mt wouldwt I put on ther lugs then! ih’ hull Centennial fer a specerlation, to say 10thin’ about Elm avenue an’ Shantytown.” Once in the vicinity of the alleged abiding- place of Archibald Gibbs, however, he looked saarply about him. The neighborhood abounded with places of questionable character, many of | the grim-fronted brick tenements and rum-mills having the repute of being ‘* fences ” for thieves, and a retreat for even more reprehensible crim- inals, from the smart, shrewd burglar to the more brutal garroter and murderous rough. Joe knew enough about the locality not to have any difficulty in spotting the house where Gibbs was said by the Directory to reside. It was one of the oldest houses in the row, and the ground floor was occupied as a. ‘‘ bucket- shop” saloon by one Patsy O’Neill. There was a side entrance, upon the door of which was a sign announcing that ‘Boarding & Lodging” could be obtained within. Taking a good survey of the place, Joe passed slong to the next corner, where a negro was jusily engaged in ‘* working” a little bedof mor- ‘ar, with which to repair some adjacent chim- wey. ** Hello, dad—shine ’em up fer ye?” Joe de- nanded, pausing and squattin xy upon his box. * Make ’em so bright you'll think your eyes have gone on a Centennial eclipse,” “Go ‘way long off, chile!” was the gruff re- sponse. ‘‘ Dese yer boots nebber heed no black- in’ on de outside, ’ca’se dar’s plenty ob black on de inside.” ** Don’t say so! of these days!” ‘Deed, an’ I’se no coon. I’se a gentleman. No common nigger ’bout me !” ** Ain't, eh? ell, that’s what I tho’t. Look kinder like an Upper-Ten. S’pose ye live found bere?” ** Yas, sah; right ober dar in dat yar yonder tree-story house.” “Phew! I want to know! all ther neighbors, eh?’ **"Deed, bub, I knows all I wants to ob ’em. Don’ ’sociate wid none ob de common trash.” «Tye know a man by th’ name of Gibbs who hangs out over at Patsy’s?” ‘*(ibbs!” and the colored aristocrat looked hard at his interrogator, ‘‘Gibbs! Look yar, chile, don’ try to he fun at me, or T’ll cut you, I will, shua!” Bf Why, who’s trying ter, poke fun at yer? W hat’s th’ defickelty between you an’ Gibbs?” ** Defickelty! Look yar! didn’t dat yar Gibbs Yarn my gal ’Lize to sw’ar at her dad an’ mam, an’ drink rum? ‘‘She’m up de Pennypack now, fer stealin’ from de parson’s colleckshun-box. Defickelty! I jes’ done tole you, boy, dat yar Gibbs am a bad man, an’ if yo’ don’ keep ’way from him, you git corrupt!’ ; The now wide-awake Joe hitched his*stool nearer to the curb. “See here, old man,” he said, impressively, *¢ vou don’t like Gibbsy?” ‘Deed, an’ goodness knows I don’t, honey. Dat yar man am bad, cl’ar fru an’ fru.” ‘‘That’s what I want ter know about. I’ve been tryin’ ter git p’ints about him. Now, see here, I reckon you hain’t no objection ter havin’ a couple of extra dollars m yer pocket?” ** Deed I habn't, chile. Dey come won’ful handy.” My Then answer shall have ’em. sy’s vlace?” ** Bad—drefful bad.” *¢ What sort o’ men put up there?” Bad — drefful bea: Thieves, m’lers—'deed, ebery sort.” ** What does Gibbs do?” “‘ Snatches stiffs, sometimes.” ** Indeed !” And here Jubilee scratched his head, as if he had suddenly been struck with an idea. ‘* Does a Mrs. Bradford live there?” “No, sah. No woman lib dar, ’cept de cap- t?in’s daughter.” “©The * captain’s’?” ‘* Yes, sah; Cap’n Mark’s Sally.” : ** Are you sure there is not a young woman in ther house—one that came there late last night” ‘ ‘Oh! dat was de ‘ capt’in’s’ daughter, sah!— arrived from off somewheres, She an’ de * capt’in’ com’d home in a cab.” ‘Sure? Positive?” et. Lis. See’d’em git out and go *ato de saloon.” Guess you're a cute coon, one S’pose you knows ye me a few lente an’ iaracter of Pat- What is the ¢ * snatchers,’ Yd buy | | ** Then there’s a whoppin’ lie out somewheres!” Joe muttered, to himself. ‘Ef that gal at ther | depot was puttin’ on all them whimpers she’s a hoss atit. She either was or else/wasn’t what | she pretended; an’ if she wasn’t, she an’ Gibbsy are workin’ some big game. ‘*Might have been Gibbs or a pard of his, who snatched her sachel. But what object was there in it?) There’s a mystery here, somewhere, an’ Andy Allan figgers in it, or else why the insur- ance? “There must be a Laura Murray concerned, somehow, or else the policy wouldn’t ’a’ bin or- dered drawn in her favor— Hello!” The door of O’Neill’s saloon had opened and Gibbs and another man stepped out upon the street. ‘* Now fer it!” Jubilee mused. ‘‘ I must shad- der them, an’ try an’ find Miss Murray,if sucha person exists.” And gathering up his box, he dodged around the corner. CHAPTER IV. [BY CHARLES MORRIS.] THE TABLE-IMP, JUBILEE JOE soon found that he had no easy job on hand in shadowing the two men who had just emerged from Patsy O’Neill’s saloon. It was not that they had any special reason to fear pursuit, but they were,men who had been so often under the eyes of the police that they were cautious to the very toes, and took no step without knowing just where their foot was going to be planted. Gibbs’s companion was a spotty suspicious chap. His little, half-shut eyes kept rolling everywhere, and it would have been a cute spy that could follow that man far without being discovered, He was a tall, lantern-jawed man, with long, stiff, sandy hair, and carried himself as straight asadie. His clothes were somewhat seedy, but were worn with a show of military smartness. **Sure as shootin’ that’s him! That coon’s ‘Cap'n’ Mark,” muttered Joe. ‘‘ But Til bet a pig ag’in’a cocoanut that he never sarved in ther milletary, or carried a bagonetin ther home ards. He’s high-cockalorum in ther footpads’ wrigade, he is. 5 if Idon’t tie his eye-wink- ers into a hard knot afore ’m through, why, Til sell my box an’ go ’prentice toa cobbler.” Flinging his box jauntily over his shoulder, Joe jogged along, on the other side of the street from the twomen. To all appearance he did not know that such men were in existence, his whole soul seeming set on finding a job. “ Black ’em! Black ’em!” he kept lustily call- ing. ‘“Shine’em up; mister? Put sich a polish on them flatboats as you won’t know yerself in ’em, Make you think yer mammy changed you fur a ood tookint baby in ther cradle. Shine ‘em! Shine ’em!” Joe’s persistent cry at length brought him a customer, This was a slab-sided countryman, who was lounging along with a shabby valise, and boots that looked as if he had recently been wading in a plowed field. ‘* Here, boy,” he called. ‘‘ Reckon you’d bet- ter give me a shine-up. How much do you charge?” Joe halted, looked down at the number twelve stogies, cocked his left eye, and winked his right. ‘*Guess ther tariff’ll be "bout a silver quarter fur that job, mister.” ‘* A quarter, you young rascal? Want to rob me, do you? S'pose you think I’m a green- horn.” ** Didn’t dream o’ sich a thing,” rejoined Joe. *¢ Any blind man with a glass eye could twig you was a college professor, or a railroad president. But if I’m ter tackle them there bug-squashers, you've got ter shell ont lively. I don’t take wholesale jobs at retail prices.” ‘* You confounded son of a pickled mackerel! are you trying to chaff me?’ roared the country- man. ‘‘ Blame your ugly eyes, you want some- body to kick the impudence out of you. And I’m just the chap to do it.” He made a rush at Joe. But he might as well have tried to nab a mosquito. Joe ran lightly ahead, just out of reach, laughing in a way that doubled the man’s rage. “Tt’s jubilee times, boss. called out. ** And you'll rise, if I can get the toe of my boot under your corporation.” ‘**Scuse me,” answered Joe. ‘‘ Like ter ’com- erdate you, but can’t afford to wait. Gota in- vertation to take dinner with ther mayor.” The enraged coun n chased Joe for more than two squares, en he gave it up in dis- Prices is riz,” he Jubilee Joe, the Chain-Lightning Detective. SATE ne gust, puffing and blowing with his exertions. Joe instantly unshipped the box from his shoul- der, and took a seat on it, looking at his baffled pursuer with a glance of irritating Impudence. ** Wouldn’t you like ter come along to that dinner party, stranger? Goin’ter feed high, you bet! Little pigs on toast, an’ buttered parsnips, Like to have yer.” ‘** Td like to have you, and an ox-hide to teach you manners,” muttered the countryman, as he turned away in disgust.. Joe picked up his box and jogged on. This specimen of street-Arab impudence had not been without an object. The boy did not want a job, and took this way to get out of it. And he want- ed a good excuse to follow his game, without be- ing suspected by the suspicious **‘ Captain,” whose rolling éyes were never still for a second. He had now been for some time in pursuit, and a considerable distance had been gone over. His run from the countryman had taken him ahead of Gibbs and the ‘‘ Captain.” He walked ie on, satisfied that they were close behind im. Reaching the next corner he stopped and looked in a. store window, as an excuse’ for glancing back along the street. To his utter surprise the men had disappeared. He rubbed his eyes. But not a trace of them was to be seen. A quarter of a square back was the opening te a narrow cross-street. Joe knew it well. It was a place renowned for its English chop and ale houses. He ran back with all haste to the cor- ner of this street,.and gazed down it. He was justin time. One of his men was out of sight. he other was just stepping into the open door of a house. Jubilee Joe scratched his head. An idea quickly se ae into it. Hiding his box in a safe corner he hurried after them. “They've dug into Johnny Flynn’s,” he de- elared. ‘Lucky I know Johnny. I’m goin’ ter see what’s in ther wood.” In a moment more he entered thesaloon. The door opened into a short entry, and this into the tap-room. The latter was square, gloomy, and low-ceilinged, dingy and blackened with tobacco smoke, The floor was sanded, and was provided with a number of small tables. The two men whom Joe was after stood at the bar, talking to the landlord. Joe looked slyly around him, There was a long table in the corner covered with a long cloth that reached to the floor. The men’s backs were toward him. With a wink to the round-fae| landlord, who recognized him, Joe slippet around the room by the wall, and plunged 1: - der this table, the drooping cloth quite corces}- ing him. ¢ two men, oblivious to this movement, con- tinued their talk with the landlord. ** He’s here, then?” ‘* As sure has a oss is a ’oss.” ‘*Tell him we’re on hand, And let’s have a brimmer of your best home-brew.” The landlord bustle around, placed chairs to the end of the table under which Joe was hid- den, and set on it a brimming beaker of ale, with a brace of tall glasses. “Yell find that prime. this side o’ hold Hingland.” The youthful spy heard the landlord leave the room. The two men at the table poured out glasses of ale, and took a long draft of the foam- ing beverage. “°Tain’t bad,” said the voice of Gibbs. ‘I hope t?other job "Jl pan out as well.” “Tf Tom Smith only puts through his share correct,” answered the ‘* Captain,” in a grating voice. ‘Drop all that,” cried Gibbs. ‘*Tom Smith issunk in a simoon. Andrew Allan has taken his place. I guess Andy can fill the bill far bet- ter than Tom,” ‘* Tf he can only play respectable.” ‘¢ fe can doit. Tom’s up to snakes. Or least- ways I should say Andy’s up to silk chokers. I ain’t.afeard of that young man.” The two men laughed, as if highly amused. ‘*T hope he'll do it as well as we’ve done our share of the speculation.” ‘‘ What did you do with the girl’s hand-bag?” asked Gibbs, ‘‘ Pocketed the cash lining, Guess I earned that for the risk. It wasn’t much, anyhow, And as for the papers—” ‘Yes, Trat’s what inl ae for.” ee ‘¢T think they give her pedigree pretty 2om- plete. Gotthem here. We can take them in.” *‘Good. Are you sure of Sally? Is shesmart enough?” ; ‘* Tf she ain’t smart, there’s no gal going that knows beans, And she’senough like that Laura Aren’t none better aa ay
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Murray to cay play her game, You've got the real Laura safe?” it Well, I should smile, If she gets out of old ‘Mother’ Hickley’s hands before I give the wink ther a seven-yearer can walk out of Cherry Hill al.« imonth’s notice. I ain’t the sort of fellow that makes blunders.” At this moment some other customers entered the room, and the voices of the speakers fell. The landlord returned at the same moment, an- other person following him into the room. As may be imagined, the boy under the table had heard this conversation with deep interest. He was fast getting hold of the thread of the mystery that had so far puzzled him. *“There’s the gents as wants to see ye, Mr. Hallan,” said the landlord. Joe started. So they were to have an inter- view with Mr. Allen? Greetings passed between the three conspira- tors. They seated themselves at the table be- side which Gibbs and the ‘‘ Captain” had so far been standing. “Take a swig, Tom—Andy, I mean.” ** Don’t care if I do.” Joe recognized the voice of the lately-irisured man. ** And now, let us have itin a nut-shell, Did it work? Have you hit the mark?” “| reckon. Twentythousandrisk, It’sdone, and—” ‘*Hush! Thereareearsabout. Ha! whatthe blazes is this under the table?” He had stretched out his feet and brought them in contact with Joe’s person. ** Feels like a dog,” said the ‘* Captain,” * Kick it out! Confound the lazy brute!” ‘Old up, there!” cried Johnny Flynn, the Jandiord. * Don’t you kick that dog! I don’t low nobody but me to kick that dog.’ ‘*Get him out of here, then! We don’t want no dog under our table!” He gave a slight kick. It was followed by a low growl. Joe had taken the hint. ‘The man that kicks that dog kicks me!” cried Johnny, angrily. ‘Let ’im halone. He hain’t doin’ no ‘arm.’ The men subsided’ They continued their con- versation in a low tone. Joe, his ears muffled by the cloth, could only catch a few words of it. He made out that they were laying plans, and judged it was some scheme to beat the insurance company, but he could not catch its points, He also discovered that the ‘‘ Captain ” had pro- duced the documents stolen from the hand-bag of Laura Murray. As far as he could make out they seemed to be composed of letters and a 1 of diary, giving many events in the girl’s life. Some few words, however, came clearly to Joe’s ears and gave him a hint that told much to his quick brain. ‘Sally must study these papers,” said Gibbs. ‘*She will want to know what she has been do- ing all her life. Then with the letter she received at Pittsburg she will be ready to go to Mrs. Bradford’s. To-morrow she must arrive there— from the train, you know.” A significant laugh succeeded these words. The ‘* Captain” thrust his feet carelessly for- ward. And thenhe cried out sharply: ** Who says that’s a'dog? It’s a human of some sort, Pll take my oath to that!” He started up, and snatched up the mug and the glasses. ** Upset the table! There’s a spy under it!” No sooner said than done. he table was hastily overturned, and revealed the form of Joe. _He was doubled up in an odd attitude, one arm flung over his face, A volley of curses came from the conspirators. ‘* Kick him over! Snatch him up and let’s look at him! Is the young houn shamming?” Joe seemed in fact to be sound asleep. Even a rough thrust from the foot of the ‘‘ Captain” only brought a groaning sound from him. He rolled over on his face, and lay motionless, The landlord hurried forward. ‘“ What’ave ye gotthere?” heasked. ‘“Tain’t the dog, then? Why, ’ang me if it hain’t that little mutton-head of a Joe Buster. Best let him be. When that boy goes to sleep he means biz. Ye might has well try to wake hup a railroad sleeper, and be done with ‘hit. Hey there, Joe; stir yer lively trotters!” He rolled the boy back and forth with his foot- but with no more effect than if he had been roll- ing a bag of potatoes. ‘You see’ow hitis. You could shoot’im out o’ a seven-pounder through a brick wall, and.’e’d snore right on.” ’ The men-looked down on Joe fora minute, and then turned away. asleep or Jubilee Joe, the Chain-Lightning Detective. 5 “*T bet ’d wake him up; if he was my boy,” declared the ‘‘ Captain.” ‘** What’s the use? He’s more out o’ the way hasleep than ’e is hawake.” The conspirators turned away. They had fin- ished their conference, Joe had played ’possum too well, it seemed, for them to doubt him longer. Paying for their liquor, they walked out of the saloon. One eye of the boy opened slyly to follow them out. But he did not movea finger until sure they were well out of hearing. **Come, boy, that jig’s hout. jolly Joseph.” The boy opened his other eye, and then sud- denly sprung to his feet, dancing a hornpipe on the sanded floor. ** Don’t you never say IT don’t know sharps from flats! *Kase if-you do Pll plug yer eye!” ‘* What’s bu’sted, boy? y twigged them chaps wasn’t deacons. But, what’s their dodge, and what are you hafter?” ‘‘'m arter them, like a nigger arter ‘lasses! They’re coons, from th’ word go. Reg’lar rip- stavin’ circus operators, as kin turn six somer- sets’round a sweet pertater. But you bet Ju- bilee Joe ain’t no slouch. I’ve salted ’em lively, I have! An’ if I don’t open their eyes wider than a toll-gate aforeI give up th’ job, then you kin kick this rooster into ther middle of next woo = ‘Stop pour wind-mill, Joe. hin the wind.” ‘*Has that Andy Allan took a room here?” ‘OKs done that same.” ‘¢Then I want you to watch him, lively. Come, I'll let.you into th’ game. It’s about th’ ugliest bit o’ sport as I’ve ever hearn tell of.” Joe proceeded to tell to the wondering land- lord what he had discovered, under a strict promise of secrecy and aid. CHAPTER V. [BY MAJOR E. L. ST. VRAIN.] JUBILEE ‘‘ CHUCKS HIM ONCE FOR LUCK.” ‘“My heyes!” exclaimed Flynn, when he had heard all of Joe’s story, ‘ this’ere his a musty go! Hi’ve been twenty hodd years hin this ’ere rata tgt f han’ Hi never ’eard the like hov hit be- fore. is’posed there wasn’t no crooked work hin Hamerica.” ‘* That’s whar you’re clean off yer horizontal perpendiculum,” replied Joe, ‘Ef you’s ter squander pee o’ yer inheritance on ther newspa- pers, you'll git onter more crooked bizness in a week than Nero-Napoleon, king o’ ther Philis- tines, ever dreamed on.” “But don’t the papers lie?’ asked Flynn, thoughtfully. ‘‘ Hive ’eard so.” ‘* They lie! Ther papers lie? My innercent frien’, with ther London fog still hangin’ to yer ambrosial locks, [reckon yer don’t know a fiea- blown, full-blooded American reporter. Why, ef you so much ez mention Joshua Iscariot— you've heerd o’ him, ain’t ye, Johnn yt—ter & reporter, he blushes red cl’ar up ter his gills, But that ain’t ther p’int. W’ot d’ye think o’ this hyar scheme they hev got in project?” ‘* Hit’s a nasty job.” ‘* Ye’re right, fur mustard-plasters, But d’ye s’pose it'll work?” ‘* My heyes! yes. Ho’ course hit’ll work, hun- less the perleece rey hit.” ‘“Ther p’liece??, Go hide yer diminished head, Hold Henglish Hale! Ther coppers can’t stop nothin’. But, d’ye see me?” Joe thrust his thumbs, into the arm-holes of his vest and struck an attitude. ‘* Hi’m ha-lookin’ hat you,” Flynn replied, ‘* Dye observe ther lurid light 0’ genius a-flash- in’ from my eyes?” The saloon-keeper laughed. ‘* Hof course, me boy.” ‘¢ An’ ther swellin’ muscles o’ my Herculean figger?” ** Certain.” ‘¢ An’ ther “lectric sparks that shoot from my Samsonian locks o’ ha’r?” ‘* Po be sure.” ‘‘Wal, this ’ere is me—Jubilee Joe, E-squire, ther prize-beauty o’ 1876, an’ ther liberty hoss- chestnut 0’ 1776, brought down ter future ages, preserved in alcohol, or English ale, or some sech devastatin’ fluid, An’ P’m ther game-rooster that’s goin’ ter tackle them schemers an’ shake Pheladelfy dizzy, for I’m the Chain-Lightuing Detective. an’ don’t you fergit it!” se You ! ” ‘* Mr! , Spell it with big letters. Make it look like a circus-board, afore ther spring-freshets git arter it. Mm!” ‘* Why, they’ll heat you hup.” ‘*They won't eat me.up, ner down. Git hup, my Let’s ’ear what’s ‘*Ka’se why? Pine-apples ain’t eat till they’re shucked, an’ I can’t be shucked, No, sirree, not any fer Jubilee!” ‘** Yow’re ha plucky little rat.” ‘*D’ye take me fura rat? Does my classical profyle remind ye o’ a rodent? Not much, it don’t me! I’m a blue-blooded gladiator, right from Rome by way o’ ther cable, an’ ’'m a holy terror ter ther unwashed.” Here Joe sprung forward and seized Johnny by the neck, tragically crying: ‘* Ha! villain, I have thee by ther throat, an’ blood hez got ter gush fer all it’s wu’th. By my halidom, I'll cleave yer head with my bright blade an’, oh! how like sin ther Henglish hale will flow! Wal, let her flicker!” Then Jubilee shot backward and began to dance in a style which would surely have made him a favorite on any stage. He was as light-footed as a professional who commands the honor of a double recall. In the mean while, another boy had entered the saloon, and was loitering around quite close to Joe. The new-comer was not by any means orna- mental, He wasa street Arab, and of a degree not an honor either to the street or the Arabs. His face was that of a juvenile ‘‘ tough,” and moreover, an ignorant and unprepossessing face in every way. If Jubilee Joe and Flynn had not been so bus they might have suspected this illustrious youth was trying to spy upon them. He was certain- ly taking a good deal of trouble to get near them, but, as chance would have it, he had not arrived until the conversation became wholly light and irrelevant. The boy, who was a trifle larger than Joe, had never seen the latter before, but he at once took a dislike to him, and when he saw this double- shuffle, he felt a desire to break it up. { ‘*Durn ther young bloke!” he muttered, ‘he thinks he’s all Pheladelfy an’ a corner lot in Jer- sey. Idon’t’low nosech gutter-pigeon ter put on airs whar J be, an’ I'll jest make him sick.” He thereupon worked around back of Joe, an evil light in his eyes, Joe did not notice him at all, and the good- natured Englishman had barely glanced at him. Thus it came to pass that as Jubilee Joe spun around, another foot was suddenly thrust in be- tween his, and Joe went down with a crash, He had been suddenly and maliciously tripped. e was on his feet in a moment, but when he came up his desire to dance was gone, He looked at the other boy with an ominous light in his eyes. fs By ther way,” he observed, ‘‘ do you wanter dance?” ‘* Wot ef I do?” belligerently asked the intrud- er. ‘‘Ef I do, I shall.” ‘You may ef you don’t wanter, but one thing e kin set down as Gospel fact—you can’t dance in my set, ner tread on my toes, ner twist yer letter-Z legs up in mine, Not by a gol-blasted sight!” **T can’t?” “No, ye can’t !” ‘*See yer’, don’t ye give me no chin, or I'l knock ther roof off yer head!” goared the un- known youth, ‘* No, yer won't, ‘’*Kase why? Ye can’t epell a-b-l-e in English, French or Choctaw.” The larger boy threw off his jacket and began rolling wp his shirt-sleeves. ‘a ‘ ‘‘Oh, keep that caliker down,” airily advised Joe. ‘‘ Ye ain’t tooken a bath sence Billy Penn laid out Pheladelfy, an’ even yer dirty shirt is an improvement over sech crooked arms ez bs He ‘Lhe big boy uttered another roar and rushed forward belligerently, tis fists sweeping the air asa chambermaid goes for cobwebs, but Jubilee leaped Lehitay. to one side, and, thrusting out his foot, neatly tripped his enemy, who fell with a crash. ‘* This ’ere is ther time I foller suit,” coolly ob- served Joe, ‘but next time [ll play a trump. Keep off, or I'll be chawed by fleas ef I won't chuck ye once, jest fer luck.” It was a fair warning, but the big boy was not to be thus checked, He was mad from his dilapidated shoes to his red hair, He made another rush. This time Joe did not try to avoid him, ard the two met like young gladiators, much to the delight of Flynn, Still, hewas afraid Joo might ‘* vet left,” being the smaller of the two, and hia waddled around the bar to stop the fight. When he got there the boys were so mixed up thatit was hard to tell one from the other, but by dint of close survey he discovered that the unknown was wasting his blows on the air, whiie_
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6 Joe was driving his scientific strokes home like a veteran. ‘*Oh, come an’ see me!” he cried. ‘I ain’t a fighter, but I’m ther most ’commerdatin’ chap in Pheladelfy, an’ I can’t see ye go away hungry. "T would jest break my heart. Here’s a little chain-lightnin’, jest fer luck!” And then it came to pass that the unknown tumbled back into Flynn’s arms, and stayed there as though he was not on the war-path so much as he was. “Go for ’im, my bloomink daisy!” said Flynn, encouragingly. ‘*Not by a durned sight!” replied the boy. ‘‘T know when I’ve got enough gruel, an’ I’m chuck-full on’tnow. Keep off, youslugger chap; I cave!” ‘“‘Kerrect fer oysters,” good-humoredly re- turned Joe. ‘I’m ready ter retire from ther pupilistic arena right now. Fightin’ isan art I don’t hanker ter indulge in, but yer see, when a feller tries ter bu’st my figger-head, I feel it my bounden juty ter chuck him once fer luck.” Probably the other boy thought the ‘‘ luckiest ” and best thing he could do was to take a change of climate, for he only waited to pick up his cap and then left the saloon. He turned two corners, went a square, and then brought up where three men were stand- ing. They were Tom Smith, Gibbs and ‘‘ Captain” Mark. ‘Well, did you see him?” eagerly asked Tom. ‘* See him!” groaned the boy: ‘‘ well I should smile to cachinnate ef I didn’t. He seenme, too, an’ he walked all over.me. Look at my eye! D’ye see any signs that I’m turnin’ nigger? We had a Marquis o’ Queensberry waltz, an’ that blamed kid wiped ther floor up wid me. See him! You bet your collar-button phan him. He’s jest chain-lightnin’, he is!” ** Did he really whip you?” *¢ He did, boss, fer sure.” ‘Why, you’re larger than he is,” ‘¢ Tye s’pose we settled ther question 0’ s’peri- ority by gittin’ onter scales an’ bein’ weighed? Notany. Fistsdid it, an’ he’s seven-eighths chain- lightnin’ an’ ther rest wild-cat. When I fight ag’in I'll tackle a man—no more boy for me.” The men laughed, ‘* Well, wnat didjyou overhear?’ asked Gibbs. ** Nothin’.” ** Nothing? went in?” ‘Oh! yas. Leastways the kid was. He was spoutin’ Brakespeare, or w’otever his name was. ut I didn’t hear you chaps mentioned, ner nothin’ private.” The men looked disgusted, ‘¢ You're a slouch,” said Tom Smith, ‘‘and we Wasn't they talking when you won't hire you again. Here’s your half-dollar— but wait a bit. id they suspect you were spy- ago.” ‘*'Then why did Eb fight?” ‘* Wal, yer see, | tripped him, ’cause I thought he was tresh, but I found he was so ’tarnal salt that he jest put mein brine.” “ Bah!” said ‘‘Captain” Mark, ‘ this boy is no good. But,never mind. I’m sure that kid was after us, agd under the table on purpose to hear what was said, but we'll fix him. I want both of you to meet me at *Mother’ Hickley’s, on Locust street, at three o’clock.” Both Tom and Gibbs agreed to be there, and then they moved off. Three o'clock! ‘* Captain” Mark, Gibbs and Smith were seat- ed ina small, none-too-clean room, in company with an old woman, whose features were of a Jewish cast, while herface wasavaricious, crafty and cruel, She was one of that class of women to be seen in every large city, while honest_ people wonder why Mother Earth can toleratestich a burden. ‘* Yés, my tears,” she was saying, with a nod and a bob of her vulture-like head, ‘‘ I vill pring de leetle poy here. It vill please me vell to haf de leetle tear in my house—I do: so love leetle ys. I vill pring him, an’ den you can smother him vith a billow, like Othello did Desdemona,” ‘‘But how’ll you get him here?” asked Tom Smith. ‘‘ Neffer you mind, my tear/I vill do dot part all ane “Trust ‘Mother’? Hickley for that,” inter- tupted Gibbs. ‘‘ Let us, rather, look to our own work. ‘Captain’ Mark, how does your job come on?” ‘“Al, I have sent a decoy telegram to the real Andrew Allan, whose ship has just reached New York, signing the message ‘Mrs, Brad ford,’ That'll bring Allan here. In fact, Ihave received a tel from our ally in New York, stating that Allan leaves by an evening train, and I am going on to Trenton, meet Allan’s train there, return on it, find Allan and drug him, and then we can get him to one of our safe places and do with him as we will.” ‘* How the dickens are "bie going to drug him on the train?” asked Smith. ‘“‘ Young man, when you’ve floated around the world as long as I have, you'll be up to more tricksthannow. How? ell, we’llsee. Ihave cigars which will make him who smokes them insensible; also, drugged wine and other pr Trust me for that. Ill rope in Allan all right cs ‘Mother’ Hickley can attend to that cursed oe. ‘* My tear,” said theold woman, ‘‘shust you let ‘Mother’ Hickley alone. She haf a petter head than any von off you, an’ she vas a cut-tooth sharper afore you vas got out off your cradles,” This retort caused a laugh, and the conversa- tion continued, covering more fully the points of “Captain” Mark’s plot, but developing nothing new, Tom Smith finally arose, stretched himself and walked to the window, ‘** Hallo!” he suddenly exclaimed. * What is it?” ‘Come hers, Gibbs, and you, Mark. I'll be shotif here isn’t that boy, just getting out of a cab, big as life. Yes, and he’s got his eye on this house. Carefully! Keep a little back, or he'll see you.” ‘Yes, by the fiends!” said the ‘* Captain,” | ‘that’s Joe, and this proves our suspicions cor- rect. He’s on our track, swre, and the dickens is to pay.” “T know the driver, too,” said Gibbs. ‘‘ He’s the same man who took the girl away from the depé6t. By George! the boy'is onto the racket, red-hot!” ‘Yes, he’s not only got us down fine, but he’s found out where we stop. He’ll have the police after us, sure as fate.” ‘‘Nefer you mind, my tears,” said ‘‘ Mother” Hickley, bustling about. ‘‘The fat ain’t in de fire yet. I told you I vould haf dot poy, an’ P’ll doit. Ill gather him in like von lost sheep—de tear leetle lamb!” ‘*Can you do it sure?” eagerly asked Gibbs. ‘‘ My tear, ask me dot question six dimes more an’ den geep your mouth closed, VenTI say I vill peer de tear leetle poy in, I mean shust BOG. LWA K Soh iat CHAPTER’ VI. [BY CHARLES MORRIS. ] A POINT IN THE GAME. AFTER leaving Johnny Flynn’s saloon, Jubilee Joe returned to the railroad station at Thirty- second and Market streets, where for several hours he was busily engaged in an enterprise of no little importance. This was—a search for the cab that had carried Laura Murray away from the station, and which he knew bore his mark in the shape of a long nail-scratch. But his search proved unsuccessful. The cab was not to be found. Along toward the middle of the afternoon he went up to the exhibition grounds, for he knew that more vehicles were to be found there at that hour than at any other point in the city. Outside the grounds things were almost as lively as inside the huge main building which lif its lofty towers into the clear afternoon air. Shantytown was alive, with its shows and its ‘‘ saloons,” while the gateways of the exhibi- tion were crowded with eager sight-seers, forc- ing their way in a steady stream through the turnstiles. On the border of this busy scene stood Jubilee Joe, with his face of unwashed impudence, calm- ly surveying the excited throng, and perhaps debating with himself whether he could not find some way to get in on the strength of somebody else’s half-dollar. As he stood there.looking on, and debating within himself what to do, a cab rolled rapidly up to the curb, stopped, and a gentleman stepped out, Joe looked at him, He had surely seen that personage somewhere before, though he could not at first remember where. He was about to take a closer observation, when his eyes were arrested by something else, that set him in a state of the utmost surprise and delight. From where he stood the rear of the cab was visible, and on it he had observed a long, ugly scratch. He recognized it in an instant as his own handiwork. Jubilee sprung forward on the instant, quite forgetting the gentleman in his eagerness to question the driver. **Say, Jakey, don’t you want to make a two- Jubilee Joe, the Chain-Lightning Detective. dollar bill this afternoon?” he demanded. ‘That's all I’ve got in bank, or I'd make it a three.” ‘I'm always on hand. What do you want? A drive?” ‘*T want to take in some p’ints about a drive. *Bout two o’clock this A. M. you druv’a young lady into town, from the Penny Railroad sta- tion. Guess you won't forgit that. There was acoon of afeller with her. I’m sent to hunt u that gal, and I'll guv’ you a double-barrele bank-note if you'll say where you planted her.” ‘“‘ How do you know I took her?’ asked the driver. ‘“*Cause I reckernize your cab. I never for- git a cab I’ve once seen.” “* You recognize'the scratch you made on it you youngrascal! You’re the chap I whipped off on the bridge. You want me to tell you something, do you? Just hold on a bit and Vl try and accommodate you.” e snatched his whip and sprung to the ground in a rage. Joe stood his Spee He had no idea of run- ning away. The cabman angrily approached m. ‘* Fold up, there!” It was the gentleman who had just landed from the cab. He had been looking at Joe with an inquiring glance. ‘*See here, boy,” he demanded. ‘‘ Didn’t I see you yesterday in company with a Mr, Al- lan, in an insurance office at Fourth and Chest- nut? ‘¢ Got it, now!” cried Joe, slapping his knee. ‘¢Knowed I knowed you. You’re the vice-presi- dent of that Co.” “Just so. Now, will you tell me a thing or two? Whois that Mr. Allan? Where did you meet him?’ ‘¢ You don’t quite freeze to him, then? You be- gin to think he’s a beat?” ‘*T must confess I was too hasty in insuring his life. I begin to think he isa doubtful char- acter. If you can put me on his track I'll make it worth your while.” ‘¢ He’s a dead beat, Mr. Vice-President, I kin tell you that. An’ I’m the ghap that’s got him ona horn. You'll pay me Sf I fotch him up standing?” ** Indeed I will.” ‘Then make this galoot answer my question. Fur it’s Andy Allan I’m artez, an’ no mistake.” “ Answer him, my man. I will pay you the money he offers.” ‘“’Tain’t enough to mend that ’ar scratch,” an- swered the cabman, sullenly. “Then I’ll make it enough. Now answer.” ‘¢ Well, then, I drove first to a house on Lo- cust street. There the pair got out. But they asked me to stop, and in five minutes they got in again, and ordered me to drivo to Bainbridge street. There they got out again, and dismissed me.’ *¢ At Patsy O’Neill’s saloon?” “‘-Yes. How do you know that?” ‘Never mind how. Could you swear that th’ pair that got on at Locust street was th’ same as got in ag’in?” ‘¢ Of course they were. It was dark, though. I couldn’t be quite sure.” ‘¢ What was th’ number of that Locust street house?’ **T don’t know.” ‘¢ Could you drive to it?” 4c Yes,” ‘*'Then I want you to drive me there, double- quick. And, Mr. Vice-President, I want you to ay ther shot. ’Cause it’s meat into your pot. ; ork over, and pile me off, fur there’s no time to ose. ** What are you after?” ‘¢Tell you another time. Ef you're goin’ ‘to back me up in this, fork over.” The vice-president looked in Joe’s face and saw that he meant business. Without a word more he handed the cabman a piece of money. ‘““Take him wherever he wants to go. Report to me, boy, at my office.” “Ay, ay!” said Joe, ‘‘ When I git ready,” he repeated to himself. © next minute he was in the cab and driv- ing rapidly toward the Girard-avenue bridge over the Schuylkill. Jubilee Joe had taken many a ride on the tail- end of a carriage, but this was his first inside ex- perience, and the young street Arab thoroughly enjoyed it as he lay back on the softly-cushioned seat, ‘Talk "bout yer hoss-flies! If this ain’t gay and lively I don’t know nothin’ ’bout greens.— See here, Billy Butcher, wouldn’t ye like to take a ride this nice day in my mince-pie barouche?” The question was asked of one of his boot-
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Jubilee black companions, whom he saw on the side ‘walk, and who stood gazing after him with as much surprise as if he had seen Aladdin’s pal- ace, ‘*Guess I slightly ’stonished Billy. Wait till T see him. on’t I fling him some whoppers? Tell him my uncle.in ‘Chiny has pegged out, and left me his pile.” The cab rattled on through the streets, and -drew up at length, after nearly an hour’s jour- mey. Chis is the house,” said the cabman, opening the door of the carriage. ‘‘I know it now likea breeze.” Joe jumped out, and.stretched his legs on the jpavement. The street they were in was built up with me- -dium-sized houses. The one to which the cab- man pointed was a three-storied brick, with a side alley on one.side. It joined another house on the other. : ‘“*Sure?” asked Joe, taking a quick survey of the neighborhood. ‘*No mistake about it. They went into this house. They came out again inside of five min- utes and told me to drive on,” ‘*Then you druv’ to Patsy O’Neill’s, on Bain- bridge street?” : ‘* That’s it, to a hair.” “That’lide, Guess I'm "bout done with you, °cept one thing.” . “ What's that?” **T want my divvy.” *¢ Your what?” “You ain’t wantin’ to say you aon’t under- ‘stand English? See here, old chap, who got you this job? S’pose I go’round pickin’ up custom- ers fur cabbies ’thout gettin’ paid fur it? Not much !” The cabman looked at him and laughed. ** You had your ride,” ** What’s that your biz? Fork over fifty cents. Dh to make a Centennial trip out of this ob. ' The cabman had been well liked the boy’s impudence. half-dolar with a laugh. ‘* Anything else?” ‘* Guess that’s "bout all. Guv’ you my patron- agein ther future. Now you kin vamose.” The boy continued to gaze at the house after the cabman had driven off. He seratched his head doubtfully. ‘Ther gal’s in there, Leastways tHat’s my notion. I’m goin’ ter ’vestigate that there cala- boose. I’ve got ter‘go through that noble man- sion somehow. Fu’st thing’s ter git my twin- klers on ther gal. Next,thing’s ter warp her out. Then I’ve got ter countermine them there conspiratters, an’ bleed that vice-president. He’s got ter fork over lively, you bet, ‘fore I empty my bag o’ news inter his tater-paw. I’mon ther war-path fur cash, Iam; not fur glory. An’ I ain’t goin’ ter sell out fur auction prices.” While he stood gazing at the house a dwarfish negro came shuffling along down the street, turned into the alley, and then into the house. ‘¢ Hullo! wonderif that coon lives there?” Ju- ‘*Say, I wonder if J couldn’t bilee thought. ss for him? He’s’bout my size, an’ I'll bet I Eno where to get a wig an’ face-black to fix up jest like him. an think this here idee over, an’ see how it fits,” Debating with himself for a while, he finally started off at a quick pace toward Bainbridge street, The idea had come to him to investigate Patsy O’Neill’s saloon, and if possible get his eye on the ‘‘ Captain’s” daughter. He wanted to see what sort of looking girl this was who was undertaking the perilous task of ar are Laura Murray, the unfortunate gir! whom he believed to be held prisoner in the sust-street den. Reaching the desired locality, Joe marched boldly into Patsy O’Neill’s saloon. He had nd plan of action laid out, but he trusted to chance to help him, and he wanted badly to see the in- side of that shanty. It was a low-down rum-mill, with the proprie- tor, a bloated-faced Irishman behind the bar, and two or three beats in front. Patsy looked up angrily-at Joe, as he swaggered in; as inde- pendent as a lord. ‘ ‘*What does yez want, b’"hoy? Gitout wid yez now. We don’t sell to rats.” ‘““*Feard ye’d p’ison em?” asked Joe, impudent- ly. ‘‘S’pose your whisky kills at ten paces, don’t . ? 7 maid, and rather e handed him a “ Ye'little spalpeen! Is it to insult me ye're arter? Away wid yez now, or I'll t’ache ye a lesson ye’ll not soon forgit!” He bustled around outside the bar, his face redder than ever with anger. Joe stood his ground bravely. Joe, the Chain-Lightning Detective. 7 ‘ve got a letter fur ther ‘ Capting,’” he said, feeling in his *kets. ‘‘ Ye’ll take that in, Ll s’pose, ’fore ye kick me inter ther street?” Patsy halted and looked at the boy. ‘‘ A letter fer ‘Cap’ Mark?’ he demanded. ‘Who is it from? Pass it over, and git.” ‘* Pass it over? What sort of a donkey do you take me fur? I wasn’t weaned on skim-milk, old hoss, nary time. I’ve got orders ter guv’ it to ther ‘ Capting’ hisself, or to his darter. It’s a important dokyment, now, J tell ye.” atsy continued to glare on him, as if in doubt whether he had not better kick him out and be done-with it. He finally thought better of it, opened the house door, and walkedin. Joe heard him calling somebody inside. He re- turned after a minute. ‘* Ye’ll find her in there,” he said, pointing backward with his thumb. ‘‘ Take her the let- ter, and then make yerself scarce. D’yez hear? Don’t "low no bootblacks to loaf round my lace. , Overjoyed with his success, Joe hastened into the room pointed out, and shut the door behind him. What to do next he knew not; but he trusted to his impudence, and his talent for squeezing through a narrow hole. He was still feeling eagerly in his pockets, in a desperate effort to find the imaginary letter. “Drat it all,” he muttered. ‘I wonder if Billy Butcher went through me. If he did PU bounce his go-cart.” ‘* You haven’t lost the letter?” He looked up. Before him stood a girl of about the size of Laura Murray, and not unlike her in face, though with a very different ex- pression. Joe was an old bird at making out faces, and he made up his mind about this one ati sight. ‘*That gal knows beans,” he said to himself. ‘*She’s been through the mill. Ain’t no inner- cent flukes bout her. But she’s gettin’ herself up ter play respectable.” ‘ The girl in fact was stylishly dressed, but wore an overabundance of jewelry. Her face was a very handsome one, but it was a bold beauty that told its lesson to Joe’s quick es, fs Well, where’s the letter? Don’t stand there all day like an ape.” ‘**Can’t find it,” admitted Joe, “Had a bit of a tug with one o’ ther boys comin’ down yere, and I guess he went through me. Jist wait. Dll go back and salt his porridge. He’s got to fork over or he'll git his b’iler bad bu’st.” ‘* Who sent you with the letter?” **T don’t know ther chap. But I tell you he was handsome as a picter. Met him at ther Continental, where I eee put up. Heguv’ me ther letter, and a half-dollar fur bringin’ it. I was ter guy’ it to nobody but Miss Sally Mark, down at Patsy O’Neill’s,” The girl was evidently deeply interested in this story, which Joe so glibly invented, a Why, yousaid out there it was for the ‘ Cap- tain.’’ “That was ail a blind,” answered Joe, with a wink. ‘‘Wasn’t goin’ to let out afore them pas that a handsome gent was sendin’ you let- rs.” ‘*Good for you, my boy! But you've lost it, you young rascal!” “| kin git it ag’in. I'll guv’ Billy my half- dollar fur it, if I can’t lick it out o’ him.” ‘* Pll give you a dollar if you bring it here be- fore night.” ; ‘* You'll see me, if it’s in ther wood.” ‘See here, my boy; if you don’t get it till to- morrow you won’t find me here. By the way, what sort of looking man was it that made you his messenger?” ‘A prime ’un, you bet! Dressed as gay 4s a duke. Had long, black hair, and ther purtiest curled moustache you ever. see’d. He was a tall, slimish chap, an’ looked as if he’d eat noth- in’ but pound-cake all his life. Where am I to come then, to-morrer?” The girl was evidently interested and excited by this description. She hesitated a moment, and then answered in a low voice; **Come to —— Spruce street. It is a Mrs. Bradford lives there. I am going there on a visit to a friend of mine. You ask for my friend and I willcome down, Don’t give the letter to anybody else.” ** All O. K.,” answered Joe. ‘‘ What is vour friend’s name?” ‘Miss Laura Murray.” ** Then, good-by. I’m goin’ fur Billy.” He had to get out of the house, or something would have burst inside him. The game was playing into his hands so neat- ly eer it was as much as he could do to contain mself. ‘*T’m to ax fur Laura Murray, an’ you'll come down,” he said to himself, on reaching the street. ‘‘It kinder strikes me as you have ‘come down’ mighty lively. I knowed_ that handsome moustache ’dfotchher. ’Tain’tmany gals kin stand that. Lawsee, hasn’t it panned out lovely! So she’s goin’ ter plant herself on Mrs. Bradford as Laura Murray! Hand-bag, papers an’ all! It’s a mighty sweet game as It stands, but Jubilee Joe holds a trump hand in it. Now, ther next thing’s ter interview ther real Laura Murray, if it’sin ther wood. She’s got to come outer that Locust-street den somehow, if I have ter snatch her off ther roof, an’ take her up in a balloon.” He walked along the street, busily cogitating, what to do next. Little did he think that a spy was on his track. CHAPTER VII. [BY FRANK DUMONT,] IN THE TRAP. JUBILEE Jox turned out of Bainbridgeé.street and rapidly passed through a narrow alley in or- der to tn South street, He slunk into this narrow alley to avoid pur- suit, for several of Patsy O’Neill’s loungers came to the doorway of the rum-mill and gazed after him as he passed out. He was not quite sure that his visit had dis- armed suspicion, and he took this precaution to leave the vicinity of O’Neill’s mill as rapidly as possible. Crossing South street he plunged into Gillis’s alley, and then passed through Lisbon street to Sixth. This part of tho city is given up entirely to the poorer classes, and the tumble-down rookeries shelter both the deserving poor and the skulking criminal. It is at night, however, when the slums of the xreat city become dangerous, and the inmates, 3 huge spiders, await the approach of the ae f y. Jubilee Joe passed along, fairly stepping over swarms of children, white and black, and dodg- ing energetic Hebrews who fought to secure his custom in thesecond-hand clothing line, It was while gazing into the windows of a lit- tle shop filled with bric-d-brae of old hats, boots, carpenter’s tools, clocks, and a thousand other articles of little value, that he formed a faint outline of his next move, It was to loiter around until dark, and then boldly enter the Locust street den «nd look for the true Laura Murray. ‘*Mother ” Hickley was known to him as a vi- rago who was feared by the dangerous classes, and who was the reputed “ fence” of Philadel- phia burglars. It would be no easy matter to enter_her den and have an interview with Laura Murray. Thus thought Joe, as he gazed into the Jew’s window. ‘* [ll do it!” he said aloud, ** Dot’s right, my tear,” cried a little squeak- ing voice at his side; ‘‘ I know just vot you vill do, I can read it in your eyes. You vant to steal dot burglar’s tools in de vindow!” Joe turned and almost cried aloud with min- gled joy and surprise. A _ little, hook-nosed woman with a pair of glittering eyes stood be- side him, and he recognized the features at once. ‘*** Mother’ Hickley!” he gasped. ‘“Yes, my tear, Everybody calls me_ their mother, because I am a good mother to those I like. Ah! many a good little poy has become rich and famous because I vas a good mother to him!” Jubilee was perfectly dazed, and for the mo- ment speechless. The very woman he was thinking of outwitting now stood beside him, as if conjured up from the very pavement under his feet! This was a rare piece of good luck, and the cool boy regained his wits vd af “You vas thinking of stealing dem tools, eh? You vant to go in pizness for yourself, eh? You're a smart-looking poy: You've got aneye in your head like an eagle. You vascunning as asnake. Ah! J can read talent and smartness in a poy, and I always likes to help ’em along— help ’em along in pizness.” Joe saw through the old hag’s meaning. /She evidently thought he was admiring the iron tools in the window, and his exclamation ‘‘ Tl do it!” had aroused the old wretch’s desire to gain another boy criminal to the number in her employ. ‘* Never mind dose tools,” she piped; ‘* I’ve got some good vuns at home. Fine steel and proved vork,” hes Be
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8 J ubilee Joe, the Chain-Lightning Detective. “ How am J goin’ ter git them? I haven't got If steamboats were sellin’ for a cent | small box of the face-blac a cent! apiece, I couldn’t buy a gang-plank.” ‘*T'll trust you. You look honest, honest poy. know, put an adopted son—and he vill take you in hand and make an artist of you.” “Oh! That’s just what I’d like!” averred Joe, apparently well pleased. one—I don’t want to be no slouch! I’ve had a rood deal of practice, an’ if I git a good teacher 11 bet Ul give ther cops some trouble before they ever nip me.” ‘* Vell, I can’t stand here talking to you any longer. Come to my house to-night, and I’ll see vat can be done for you. I live on Locust street | near Sixth—” ‘*T know where it is,” declared Jubilee. ‘‘ I’ve heard tell of you an’ your home by a feller that shared ther same cell with mein Moyamensing. Oh! he was a fly coon, but they nabbed him at last. He used to tell me all about you an’ your home, an? how good you were to ther gang.” Of course Joe was telling a ‘‘whopper;” but, acting on the maxim that ‘‘all’s fair m love or war,’ exploits, and the imaginary thieves who had spoken in such glowing terms of their ‘‘ moth- er” on Locust street. The shrewd old hag seemed) well pleased at this flattery, and Joe piled it on thick when he found she liked it. He yt ke to call that night, and the old as shuffled away in the direction of her en, Jubilee was secretly Congrany AHne himself over this rare piece of g luck, when a new suspicion dawned upon him. ‘** Mother ” Hickley bore the reputation of be- ing the sharpest criminal in the city, and yet she a been hoodwinked, to a certain degree, by im, Was she merely pretending? or did she really believe his yarns? Was she seeking to lure him to the Locust-street house? Had she been on his track, and spoken to him oe pOneyy to draw him into that den? He asked himself a number of such questions, but failed to find a satisfactory answer. ‘*T’'m goin’ in there, though, if I come out of it deader than a salt mackerel!” That was Joe’s final reply to all his mental uestions. He had wished for a chance to enter e den, and the way was now clear for him to doso, The way out was very doubtful; but Joe had decided to go, and that settled every- thing. ‘*Now,” he said to himself; as he sauntered leisurely around, ** Tl fool’round down here this evenin’, an’ see ef I can’t find my friend, ther Opera House man, I'll let him think I’m s’prised tersee him; but I’m bound ter have a nigger dis- guise ef it takes my scalp-lock.” Tt was near dusk when Joe reached Chestnut street. He walked toward Tenth, and for a mo- ment lingered in front of the telegraph office. He scarcely knew what to do, in order to kill time, while awaiting the coming of night. His box had been loaned to a fellow artist, and for the present he was out of employment, and ac- tuall feeling lonesome and impatient. ‘Hello, Jubilee!” Joe turned and joyfully greeted the new- comer—the very man he wanted to meet. “Hello, Magill! *round to ther Opera House?’ Yes, I’ve got to start in on some new work— new piece going on next Monday night, and I’m busy as a bee.” Magill was the pe ret iia nen of Carneross’s Opera House, and one of Joe’s most valued friends. Often he would find a chance to smuggle Joe into the Opera House, either into a balcony seat, or behind the scenes in the capacity of an assistant pro tem. Jubilee Joe was well known to the members of the company as ‘‘ the bootblack,” and was lib- sally patronized by them whenever he solicited trade. The coming of Magill quite pleased Joe, and he accompanied the property-man around to the little Opera House at once, and assisted him in the routine of his duties, “Pye got to burn some corks, Joe. want to help?” ‘© Cert!” In a few moments the corks were being charred, and Joe viewed the process of making Do you the thickened. black paste for the minstrels to | ** black up ” with that evening. He filled the little tin boxes for his friend, and under his directions deposited one in each dress- ing-reom, 5 Ye Bi io pie Wy Mi lee aha Veal AD Yow’re an | At least you vill pe honest to me. | different comical wigs. Ive got a grown-up. son—not my own son, you | **T wantito be a good | he proceeded to tell about his burglarious | It was while thus engaged that he slipped a into his pocket, Half his object was accomplished. He next “ amused” himself by trying on the ‘*Don’t touch that wig, on the shelf,” said Magill, pointing to one near the mirror. *‘ That belongs to Lew Dockstader, and he’s mighty particular about ’em.” ‘¢ Well, I ain’t goin’ ter eat it~ am I?” ‘*T know you ain’t going to eat it but don’t touch it.” ** Whose wig is this?” ‘“ That belongs to me,” ‘* You don’t act, do you?” ‘¢- Yes, once in a while [ have to go on.” ‘‘ What do you do? play ther hind legs of a mule?” ‘* Now, look here, Joe; don’t begin any of your funny business on me. I ain’ta hind-legs- of-a-mule actor, and you don’t want to get fresh around this place, for we keep a trough full of brine here.” ~ Well, you’d ought ter go an’ bathe in it, Ma- gill. Joe dodged a stuffed ham and ran down- stairs, laughing, to escape the irate property- man. ‘‘Say, Joe! come back! I want you!” cried a from the window overlooking the alley. ‘* Not this evenin’!—some other eveniw’ !—good y eve!” shouted the gamin, as he gayly passed out of Theater alley. The mischievous imp had secured Magill’s wig, and had it hidden in one of his capacious pockets. He had a faint idea that he might need the disguise in the nocturnal adventures about to ensue. The street lamps were being lighted as Joe sabeings ey about, anxiously waiting a later our. He consumed several hours in the neighbor- hood of the den on Locust street, carefully not- ing the surroundings. He glided up the alley and scrutinized the back part of the house, but every window-shutter was closed, and the house itself appeared deserted. At last he sought the front door, and placing his hand on the knob, turned it. The door was open. Pro passed into the back corridor, wonderin at the carelessness ‘‘ Mother” Hickley evince in the semi-open door, when—clash! The door slammed shut with a bang, and: he heard the click of a spring-lock. The front door had suddenly closed, leaving Joe in the dark hallway. ‘“Dis vay, my tear! I left de door open for you on. purpose !” said the squeaky voice of the ag. ‘I guess de vind vas vat shut it so quick after you came in.” The voice came from the gloom beyond, and as there was no alternative Joe had to proceed toward its owner. He was fairly in the trap. CHAPTER VIII. [BY FRANK DUMONT. ] FOILED, A SINGLE ray of light shot out from a dooras it was partially opened, and the shadow of the old hag danced on the opponie wall, A moment later her ug y features became vis- ible, and as she shaded the lamp with her hand Where are you going?— ! the dull glare fell upon her shriveled face, and her eyes gleamed like those of a cat in the dark. ‘“‘'This vay, sonny,” she repeated. } rr had not yet rubbed the ‘‘sleep” out of his eyes, and did not know he was awake; much less could he see any one. ‘¢ This little poy is going to pe my new adopt- ed son,” said the hag, with a hidden significance in the words, ‘‘and I vant you to pe kind and attentive to him. Now take him up and show him his own nice little room, and then come pack to me for further instructions.” The darky armed himself with a lighted can- dle, and motioning to Joe to follow, ascended the rickety stairway. Joe mechanically followed his sable guide, urged to do so.by ‘‘ Mother” Hickley’s words of assurance. The hag stood at the foot of the stairs and waited until Joe had reached the third story. The negro paused before a low doorway, and thrusting a key into the lock gave it a turn and flung open the door. Placing the light on the table, he allowed Joe to view the apartment. Then suddenly taking the light up, he stepped back to the door, shyt it and turned the key inthe lock. Joe was secured in the room, and he heard the retreating foot- ua, of the negro as he descended the stairs, Once he imagined he heard the shrill laugh of the old crone, but he listened in vain for a repe- tition of the sound. A dread silence reigned. Jubilee Joe -was fairly entrapped, without a struggle. He had blindly stumbled into the old fly’s ‘* parlor.” ‘‘ Well, I deserve to git inter a mess of this kind,” Joe thought. ‘‘No one but a chuckle- head would have acted like I did! Like a gawk, I have come here to take chances without telling somebody where I was going! But nobody will care about me anyhow, so what’s ther differ- ence? ‘‘ What kind of a ranch am I inter, anyway? I kin feel ther ceiling. I am right under ther roof. Frontpart of ther house. All ther sbut- ters closed, too. Wonder if there’s a back room? Let’s reek-an-oyster.” Joe began a sort of exploring-in-the-dark movement, and his hands soon came in contact with a door leading to a rear apartment. He tried the door-knob. The door was locked. His fingers wandered a trifle lower, and he felt a key protruding from the lock. A quick turn, and the door yielded to his pressure, and he passed into an adjoining apart- ment. ‘* Who is there?” asked a low, sweet voice. The words thrilled him, and he started back surprised. He had found Laura Murray a captive like himself! It was a strange meeting in the dark, ‘OSh!” whispered Joe. ‘Don’t speak ‘loud! Tama friend. Iam a prisoner here like your- self. I came here fer ther purpose of settin’ you free, but they nipped me. My name is Jubilee Joe— ‘Sh! Pve gota match in my pocket, an’ Pl light it. That will give you a chance to see wholam, Only one match, miss, so look sharp!” He struck the match, and in that momentary flash and feeble light both éaptives gazed at each other, and then gioom prevailed once more. ‘* Now, miss, don’t be afraid ter trust me. I’ve risked my life to enter this den. You are to be kept here, an’ another girl is goin’ to pass herself off as Laura Murray. “* This is all I kin tell you at, present, We've both got to git out of this, an’ I’m goin’ ter take you with me.” He felt her hand grasp his, and a quayering voice whispered: ‘¢ God bless you, Joe. Don’t leave me here if And the boy followed her shuffling figure into | you.can possib Vy save me.” the dingy apartment, the only light was that given by the You Fant your promise and came, didn’t | my own, an’ lay low fer ducks!” | you?” she squeaked. ‘‘ Dot’sa good little poy! Alvays pe prompt in pizness, and you vill suc- ceed.” | Joe did not reply. but sat down and took a hasty survey of this back apartment. A round, black object lay in one corner of the | room, which Joe at first supposed was a large Newfoundland dog. The old hag approached this object and gave ( itseveral kicks with her thick shoes, and as it | unfolded itself into a sitting-posture, Joe beheld | a dwarfish negro of about his own hight. Jubilee recognized him at once as the fellow he had seen enter the house that afternoon. The negro yawned, and gradually awoke. ‘*Vake up! Here is another poarder for our | mansion!” said ‘‘ Mother” Hickley, addressing the yawnin aug / «Ved sees him, ’m.” The darky told a deliberate falsehood, for he ‘¢ Hark!” said Joe; ‘‘ 1 hear some one comin’ It was a small room, hd sd furnished, and | up-stairs. Hear th’ creakin’ sound? We must y the lamp borne | not be found together. They must not dream that I know where this room is, I'll go back ter oe glided back into his own gloomy apart- ment, quietly closed the intervening door and locked it, placing the key in his pocket. He heard footsteps in the room directly uncer- neath, and in a moment a very feeble Jight showed itself through a knot-hole in the floor. He bent down and applied his eye to the srnall orifice, and obtained a view of the room below, and its occupants, The first person he saw was the shamblinz form of ‘‘ Mother ” Hickley, and the next was Tom Smith, the villain now masquerading as Andrew Allan. Joe saw it all now, and easily-divined the rea- son why he was under lock and key, Tf he had any further doubts, they were quick- ly dispelled by the following conversation : ‘Did you succeed in getting the kid outof the way?” © es," answered the hag, ‘‘ I got him just as firm Ide fea SS Sat \ DR de K WX OPer ely tee AES ener rae, tm vos Thdhet! Weather Mie
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~# Jubilee J 0e, the easy as catching a hungry fish with fat pait. He just jumped at the pait and I landed him. He’s up-stairs, locked up!” **Good! I could take my oath that the kid was playing ’possum under the table when I had that interview with Mark. Ill bet he heard every word we said.” “‘ Vot good vill it do him? | He'll never get out of dis place alive,” chuckled the hag. Joe felt that he was in a tight place, and he said soto himself as he lay there listening at- tentively to ad word uttered by the twain. “All right. leave him to your tender mercy, mother,” responded Smith. ‘‘ Don’t let him get awayfrom you. He’s a shrewd little fox, and he knows too much.” ‘* He’s a stupid plockhead! else I couldn’t have scooped him in so easy, my tear,” assured ‘* Mo- ther” Hickley, triumphantly. Joe thought so, too; he fully coincided with the hag. ‘*She’s correct. I am a blockhead—but I ain’t dead yet, by a long shot!” “The girl is all right, isn’t she, mother?” ‘* Just like a daisy! Lve got her as safe as if she vas in the State Prison! You know petter than to ask me such a foolish question. Who ever gets. out of ‘ Mother’ Hickley’s hands—eh?” ‘“That’s so, that’s so,” mused Smith. ‘No one escapes your clutches; I can vouch for that! But now, concerning this boy: It is necessary that he never sees daylight until our plan is per- fected in every respect.” ‘* He'll never see igre ag anyvay!” said the old beldame. ‘‘I ton’t take chances, my tear— not I! V’at’s vun pootplack more or less in this great city? Oh no! his case is settled!” ‘*That’s what I call very kind!” ejaculated the listening gamin. ‘“‘I’magone coon! I’m dead an’ buried, an’ I don’t know it!” The voices sunk to a whisper, and the light was extinguished. He heard the sound of footsteps descending the stairs, then all was silent again. The confer- ence had come to an end, and as far as he was concerned, it was settled that he was to be re- moved without agar A Not a moment was to be lost, and he therefore decided to communicate with the fair captive again, He opened the door, and in a hushed voice told her all that he had overheard, and then be- an a search for an outlet to the roof, While thus occupied he heard a slight noise in the hallway, as if some one had leaned against the wooden partition. In a few moments the sound was repeated. Some one was listening, and had probably overheard his conversation with Laura! Jubilee decided instantly to return to his room, and had barely reached it when he be- came aware that some one had cautiously opened his door and entered. The footfalls, although as light and soft as a cat’s when sneaking be its prey, was heard by Joe’s sharp ears, and he crouched down and waited for the spring of the unknown assassin. Nor had he long to wait, for the unknown seemed to locate him in the gloom, and pounced forward to seize him. But Joe was prepared, and by a quick move- ment darted aside, allowing his assassin to fling his head against the brick wall when he fell par- tially stunned tothe floor. In a moment Joe was upon the prostrate form and his hand came in contact with an object carried in the grasp of the fallen intruder. It was a deadly object called a ‘black jack” —or slung-shot. A ball of lead secured by leather thongs—a most dangerous missile for close quarters, Joe seized the missile and dealt several blows nt random upon the reviving assassin. The 1 lows were effective, for the wretch sunk down and became limp and appa ent!y lifeless. A hasty search revealed another match in Joe’s pocket, and he quickly ignited it and gazed «this would-be slayer. It was the negro who Lad guided him to the room! ‘Have you fixed him? cried a shrill voice from below. ‘Yes, ma’am!” responded Joe, in a subdued voice, as he ran to the doorway and replied to the hag’s query. f ‘¢ Then come town-stairs at vonee!” Here was an incident totally unlooked-for, but Joe was equal to the emergency, The burnt cork in his pocket, was produced in a moment, and a rapid metamorphosis ensued, His features were quickly blackened, and the “borrowed” wig hastily pulled dow~ over his own hair. . ‘* Now I'm ready,” he whispered. Then going toward Laura’s door he ‘had just time to tell her that he was seeking an escape for her by impersonating the negro, and that he would soon return to her, when ‘‘ Mother” Hickley’s sharp command to come down-stairs at once admonished him to obey her, in order to disarm her suspicions. Slowly he descended the creaking stairs and saw the hag waiting his coming. The flickering lamp was in her trembling hand. He finally reached the last step and stood in her presence, ** Did you fix him—sure ?’ in anger and half-pleasantly. Before he could reply he received a stunning blow from behind, and as his senses !eft him he saw the evil face of Tom Smith bending over him. ‘* A very good scheme, but it won’t work, my boy!” snarled the man, and he raised Joe’s limp form in his arms. He bore the senseless figure into the yard, and the hag’s lamp served to show him a spot indi- cated by her bony finger. Smith removed a mass of rubbish, and discov- ered an abandoned well-hole. He cast the body of Centennial Joe into the well, and quickly covered up the orifice with the rubbish. > said the hag, half CHAPTER rx [BY CAPTAIN MARK WILTON. ] A GHOST’S EVENING OUT. JUBILEE Jor’s first sensations after receiving the blow from Smith’s heavy hand, was of here very wet, of having treacherous footing beneat him, and of being in a decidedly dazed condition as a whole, Some wet substance had found its way into his mouth, and he blew it out with vigor. “Julius K. Caesar! what sort o’ blamed diffi- kilty have I got inter now? I’m th’ unluckiest outang-orang fur scrapes that I ever knowed. Billy Butcher says a man that’s borneded to be hanged can’t be drownded, or by che Centennial rooster! I'd think I was gittin’ ther Atlantic na- tion inter my inner man, for sure. What’ve I swallered, anyhow! °Tain’t thin enough for wa- ter, nor thick enough for pound-cake; and I'll be jammed by a pile-driver ef it tastes good enough ter be Charlotte Russian!” By this time he had felt about somewhat, and he announced the result in a low tone for his private information. ‘* Pitch-dark all ’round; no top over me ’cept- ing wacancy ; upter my waist in mud; solid bot- tom "bout seven hundred feet b’low th’ sub- stratum 0’ th’ ’arth—kin jest feelit. W7’ot’s all these stuns round me? Feels like a sewer. I'll bet a broken T. D. pipe I’m in a well; feels like it, anyhow. It may be so, but ’tain’t well, by a mighty long-eared sight. .N ixy, Jubilee; you've been Ibiodead horizontal an’ buried by old ‘Mother’ Hickle-hackle Hickley. Wish I had *bout twenty thousand insurance on my valuable corporal corporation, like Andy Allan has. Now ter elevate my statoo ter terrible firma!” Which, being interpreted, meant that Joe in- tended to climb out of the well. Heé tried it and failed. The well was wide, the sides were smooth, aan might as well have tried to climb a rain- OW. Tt had become clear to him that he had been flung into the place, after being knocked sense- less, for no other purpose than to kill him, but his enemies had made at least one blunder. They had not bound him, and be was left free so far as movement in the well was concerned. His fall had been broken by the mud at the bot- tom of the pit, so it had served one good pur- pose if it was uncomfortable to stand in. He began to think earnestly. sky above him, from which he correctly argued that the well had been covered over. Then, from whence came the air he breathed? It was im- pure, but there was enough of it to keep life within him. ‘+ Stands to reason thar is some sort o’ a hole, avenoo or bellus which s’p’lies th’ needful,” he muttered, ‘‘an’ ’m goin’ to find it. I havea dim, fever-ha’nted idee that thar is a suller som’ers *round here, I kin smell onions. My nose is sharper arter onions than a Centennial landlord is arter rent.” : He forgot landlords and noses as his searching fingers found a hole in the side of the well. Be- ing close to the water’s edge, it had before es- caped his notice. , ‘*Most big enough for me to crawl inter, an’— yes: here’s a loose stone, sure’s my name is Ju- bilee.” He pulled it away, and found an opening of considerable size beyond it. He resolved to ex- He could see no | the ° | asked the woman, her eyes twinkling evilly. | stairs. Chain-Lightning Detective. 9 ' lore it; The longer he stayed in the well the ess he liked it, and he raised himself and crept into the passage beyond. ‘* Quite cheerin’,” he soliloquized. ‘‘ Ther fur- der [ go, ther more I git th’ delicate odor o’ on- ions. I think mon ther scent!” He advanced for twenty feet. In some places the passage was so low that he had to creep, while, further on, it became as high as his head, only to descend again, and was in all places curiously mixed with half-decayed timbers and boards. / From this fact he reasoned that he was among the ruins of an old house, the cellar of which had been hastily and imperfectly filled. The passage ended abruptly in vacancy, and when he had investigated he decided that he had reached another cellar, this time one which was in use. “Tm goin’ in,” he said. ‘“‘If th’ suller is holler, which same it ’pears to be, I shall stan’ more show o’ bein’ reserrectionized, Here goes!” He, had swung himself down, and his feet touched the cellar bottom, He breathed a sigh of relief and bade a long adieu to tho passage. He moved about, but nearly fell over various tubs and boxes, andit was a welcome sight when he saw a ray of light above, and evidently at the head of a stairway. Nothing could dampen his high spirits, but he very much preferred the outer world to skir- mishing around in such places as had of late been his quarters, “Pi g° up an’make myself knowed, like a Prodigal Son—but, hold on; it might be th’ means 0’ gittin’ myself slain like a prodigal calf. Who knows wharI be? This ain’t ther Conti- nental Hotel, nur Independence Hall, nur no other fash’nable head-center, I’ve been in dif- fikilties enough for one leather-polisher—Ill go fast mighty slow now.” Acting on this wise idea, he crept up-stairs with the caution of a cat. He found that the light shone under a door as he suspected, and. the sound of voices reached his ears from beyond, What was said was not distinguishable, how- ever, 50 he cautiously pushed the door a little ajar. He closed it again with dangerous quickness, and his dirt-begrimed face grew the picture of astonishment, He had seen ‘‘ Mother” Hickley, Tom Smith, alias Andrew Allan, and the negro. He was back in the house of the female ‘* fence!” It was a discovery which would have alarmed any one less gifted with coolmess than Jubilee Joe, but it merely created surprise in his mind. ‘Tf *tain’t them, Ill eat red flannel hash an’ run th’ risk o’ pison! They throwed me out, an’ [ve got in ag’in unbenownst ter any o’ th’ an- gelical cherubims an’ cherubusters. Hello! w’ot’s that they sez?” ‘*Tt's no use to vork over him von pit,” said ‘* Mother” Hickley. ‘‘ His skull is cracked like von aig-shell, my tear.” “Shall l get a doctor?” asked Smith, “Get a toctor? Vat you are talking apout? You suppose I let a toctor come here? Vere you see signs that I vas crazy—say?” ‘ But it seems too bad to leteven such a fellow die without medical aid.” The old woman laughed. ** Aid to die, you mean? Vell, v’ot if he toes tie? Ve put him aped, and he come out and fell down-stairs, didn’t he? V’ot ve do mit all that?” ‘* Just as yousay,” indifferently replied Smith. ‘* Well, ’'m off. We can now all breathe freely, since that hound of a bootblack is done for. Gibbs will see you soon, and give further direc- tions. Hang on to the girl.” “Wy not put her out of the vay forever?’ **Ask Gibbs. This is his part of the game, | Good-night!” Tom sauntered out, and then the woman shook her bony fist after him. ‘‘Go your vay, my fine laddie, put ton’t carry your head apove your shoulders too high. y | vork for those who pay the pest, and if you fail to give me my due, there may be von too many in this game.” ‘‘That’s me,” muttered Joe, from the ceLar “Pm one too many fer my good or theirs, an’ I'll be b’iled red as a Cape Cod lob- ster if I know which. Howsumnever, it is ther verdict o’ ther crowner’s) jury, given in august session—or July, I forgit which—that a feller about my size must be makin’ hisself skeerce here right lively. I'll make a bolt fer it.” The woman had turned and was bending over the heavily-breathing negro, and Joe’s way seemed clear, but the spirit of mischief seized. a =
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10 Jubilee Joe, the Chain-Lightning Detective, him and he resolved to have a little fun at her expense, She was no lily-handed aristocrat, and proof of the fact existed in the shape of a quantity of ironed clothing which hung at one side. The sight of these suggested to Joe the idea of playing ghost. Cautiously he eure opened the door, and this | Uncle Sam’s free-born republican dimocrats? rough and crept like a cat to | Seein’ how it’s Centennial time he passed t. the clothes. He expected ‘‘ Mother” Hickley would hear him, but she did not. He selected a sheet, and soon had himself peoperly inside of it. ike a veritable ghost, but ashe had no model, he was by no means sure. All was ready, and he coughed in what he meant for a ghostly way. The old woman turned, and then looked at him in silence. She was surprised, but did not seem alarmed. ‘* Woman,” quoth Jubilee Joe, in a tone in- tended to be sepulchral, ‘‘ behold a ginervine, | mand first-class, full-proof spirit from t’other spear. I’m a ghost, an’ this here ismy evenin’ out. I’m ther spook o’ George Washington Hamlet, con- demned fur a while ter go a-cipherin’ round this yere ’arth an’ see that ther, Centennial is run on strictly business principles—” So far, and no further. ‘“ You look here,” said ‘‘ Mother ” Hickley. not at all alarmed, ‘‘ you can’t come in here mit me all trunk and play the fool von time. Tl teach you to steal my sheet v’ot I vash clean!” And she made a rush at him, so sudden and fierce that he had no time to dodge out of the door, andjwas obliged to take refuge behind the table instead. It was only a temporary relief ; the old woman was on the war-path, and she darted after him with an agility not to be expected. ‘* Pl] preak your pones in your pody, you pig trunkard!” she declared. ‘*Come on an’ doit. I'ma ghost, an’ I can’t fight, but I kin run like a goat, and we'll see who shakes their hoofs first, Come an’ see me! I ain’t at home, but I’m ez sociable ez a settin’ hen, an’ nobody kin say I’m mean. Wake up, ole lady ; sling your patent-leather pumps a. lit- tle sprier!” lt was a generous invitation, but ‘‘ Mother” Hickley was losing her breath and gaining noth- ing. ’Round and ’round the table they went, and they might have gone until now, possibly had not Joe caught his foot in the sheet and tripped. Pen he went, and in a moment more the old woman tripped over him, turned like a hoop and brought up several feet away. The boy was on his feet in a second. ‘‘ Hello, Sophia Jane! Spilled yerself, didn’t ye? Ought ter j’ine ther Spitzbergarian grand- an’-lofty tumblers, b’mighty. al, so long; can’t be hangin’ round here fur even sech pret- ty gals as I now hev in my eyes. Hello !” te oe had cast aside his sheet and started for the door, but as he -did so it opened and a man entered. The boy started back. The new-comer was Gibbs, and Joe foresaw trouble in the near fu- ture. Gibbs paused. He believed he recognized Joe, and a flush of dangerous enmity came to his face, There was danger, and the boy knew that he had got to act quickly. He gave one yell and rushed for Gibbs with lowered. head. e had but a few feet togo, and Gibbs was there when hearrived. It somehow happened that the two collided, and then the man went over like a ten-pin, while Jubilee shot through the poe door. ‘So long, Gibbsy! Call at my office ter-mor- rer, an’ you kin have part o’ my chawin’-gum. Bring yer own teeth with ye!” He wasin retreat all the while he was speak- ing, and his movements were accelerated by the yursuit of both Gibbs and ‘‘ Mother” Hickley, Seri once on the street he had no further fear, The wretched old house and its occupants had too many secrets to hide, for the people to court serutiny on the open streets. ** Reckon as how I’ll git out o’ this while I kin. Would like to hear ther confab between them two, but it stands to reason that arter what’s happened they ain’t got enough arsenic-green in their eyes to let me git onter their secrets. I'll go where ther air’s purer an’ dry off some o’ th’ mud I took in from ther well.” He walked on, thinking what he could do to help Laura’ Murray, and the question seemed settled when he met a policeman. To him he tried to tell his story, but the officer cut him short. ‘Now, this won’t do. Oi’ve heard jist such sthories before, an’ divil a wan av t pans out truth. Ye’re loike all boys; too shmart fur Possibly he then looked | nr Ph yer jacket ter hould in. Move on, or Oi’ll be afther yez wid dhis stick!” And Jubilee moved on. “*Tt’s right odd what a spite them one-hoss it gk has ag’in’ me. Id jest like ter know who hires an’ pays ’em. Is it Bismarck, Glad- stone, Parnell and Schovelmynoseoff, or is it ear, seems ter me ther coppers should take their massive minds dway from foreign lands an’ give a little show ter erican talent. Hello, you !” A man staggered around a corner and nearly collided with Joe. **T ain’t a lamp-post,” added the boy. ‘‘Go an’ hang up there till ther tansy-juice mixes with ther open air. Legs are weak, ain’t they? You need stiffenin’. Go an’ buy ten pounds 0’ starch an’ brace up.” **Do you mean that I’m drunk?” fiercely de- the man. “You act jest ez I do when I’m drunk,” re- plied Joe, good-humoredly, but the man stopped further remarks by springing forward and catching the boy by the throat. ‘*T'll choke the life out of you, you young hound!” he exclaimed. CHAPTER X. [BY J. ©. COWDRICK. ] GIBBS AT ‘‘ MOTHER” HICKLEY’S, ‘“‘ A FINE mess you’ve made of it, you old bel- dam!” cried Gibbs, with blood in his eye as he gazed after the retreating form of Jubilee Joe. ‘Our fat is in the fire now, sure. I thought you agreed to ‘do’ for that young spy!” ‘* Mother ” Hickley was cringing in the most abject manner. She evidently feared this man. ‘Wy, my tear son,” she whined, ‘‘I ton’t know v’at you means,” ‘*Come back into the room and I'll tell you in mighty few words what I mean,” the irate Gibbs retorted, as he slammed the front door ae with a bang and strode back down the all. ‘¢ Mother ” Hickley shuffled along behind him. When they entered the room and she, had closed the door, Gibbs exclaimed; ‘*So, you ‘ton’t know v’at I means,’eh? Tl tell you, then, I mean to cut your throat for allowing that boy to escape! Do you catch on to that? ‘* He! he! he! hol! ho!” the old hag laughed. “Do you t’ink dot vas der poy? Vell, dot vas von good choke! He! he! he! V’y, my son, dot poy vas at de pottom of de old vell, right avay is very minute!” She essayed to joke, but it was plain to be seen that she was frightened. Proof of it—she mixed her English up almost t all compre- hension. This was a never-failing sign. * Do you mean to tell me I didn’t see the boy escape?” Gibbs roared, ‘‘to say nothing about feeling him?’ ‘*Oh, my son, my son! you vas padly mistak- en. De ot er poy is in de vell, an’ likely to stay there, too. @ poy you sawd vas von who chust come in to play ghost an’ give me a scare. Dot vas all!” , ‘Ghost of your grandmother! It was that young Joe, I tell you, and if you say you threw im into the old well, you lie!” *‘ Oh!I tell you it vas true! Tom Smith struck him on his head, an’ den ve pitched him right in an’ covered him up. He’s there, my son, as sure as death; an’ v’at is surer as dot?” Gibbs began to have a doubt, ‘‘ Will you swear to that?” he demanded. “ ry oses, yes!” Well, though! ere did I can’t see— Look here what is all this mud over the floor? Wh this come from?” True enough, Joe haa left his mark pretty well scattered around. ‘* Oh, my goodness!” the old woman gasped. ‘¢ Where did it come from?” Gibbs roared. “Oh, my goodness, my goodness! It must peen der poy! He’s some vay got out mit dat | he ad crawled through de hole into de cellar. ! ‘*Thunder and Mars! Do you mean to say | you shrew him into that hole with his hands | ree “Tt vas Tom Smith, my tear; it vas Tom.” ‘‘ Oh, the fool! With such a game at stake I should. think he would have taken every pre- caution! And you— I’vea notion to slit your neck, and slit it deep, too!” “*Oh, ton’t look py me like dot, my son!” “Your son! A fine specimen of a mother you are! I tell you now as I have told you before, am Gibbs, and nothing else. Just dob thatthe tt AS 2 A ES es ee ee ee ee een ee ee aaa ee ee ee OO ————e————————————————————————— ee ae ae ternal whine of yours, if you please. Now, where is the girl? Has she Pe beh too?” ‘Oh, no, my—Mr. Gibbs, she is safe, she is safe,” ** Are Yes. 2 Have you seen her since that young rat es- ? ‘No, put I—” ‘But you’rea fool! I’li bet he played ghost on you to allow the girl time to get out of the house! Come, get a move on you, and lead me up to her room. Lively, now!” The old hag took up the lamp and led the way, trembling in every limb. Well she knew that if Gibbs’s suspicion should prove true, his wrath would fall heavily upon her aged head. When they arrived at the room where the girl was imprisoned, however, they found her there, and Gibbs’s anger cooled down a little. The poor girl implored them to set her free, but the hardened wretches only laughed at her misery, and after looking carefully around for a moment they descended to the lower part of the house fy ea “* Mighty lucky for you, old gal, that we found her there, I can tell you,” Gibbs declared. **FHullo!” he hastily added, ‘‘what’s this?” And he turned toward the corner where the dwarfed negro lay, his attention being drawn by a men which had escaped the poor darky as he began to regain consciousness. “Oh! dot is Conch! De poy almost killed him!” the hag explained. * ‘*The deuce he did! I thought Tom was to do the job for you.” ‘* Vell, you see he started up to do it, an’ I vent vid him to light de vay, put he packed out: Ve vent into de room under de von de poy vas in, an’ talked de thing over a leetle, an’ he vanted Conch to do it; so ve coom down an’ sent Conch up. You see how he made out.” “Then how did you get at the boy?” ‘¢ Vell, he placked his face an’ coom down to escape, put Ve knowed him py his clothes, an’ Tom struck him on de head an’ laid him out. ‘* Tf he had only slipped into Conch’s coat he might have got avay; put he didn’t t’ink of dot, or didn’t have time to do it, an’ so ve spotted him.” The negro began to groan more frequently now, and was soon able to sit up. The gamin was not responsible for his life, worthless as it was. A negro’s head is hard to craek. ** An’ look here at my shirt!” ‘‘ Mother” Hick- ley exclaimed. ‘I declare to goodness if dot poy didn’t vipe all de plack off his face on it, an’ some of de mud, too! See, here’s de vooly vig he wore, too; I vonder vere he got dot?” ‘*T don’t know, nor do I care;” Gibbs answer- ed, sullenly. ‘‘But I do know that this boy is lightning smart, and I’m afraid he’ll give us trouble, Come, let’s 4 down into the cellar and see how he ma is pe.” in ‘‘Mother” Hickley took up the lamp and led the wey They descended the old and rickety stairs, and then the beldam ambled across to where she knew there was a hole in the wall. ‘¢- Yes! yes!” she cried, ‘‘ here it vas! See he’s dropped right down onto my pest onions an’ mashed more as a peck of em. Oh! if IT had him here I’d make him eat ’em, every von! I vonder if he smelled ’em, an’ so got onto de right road?” Satisfied as to how Joe had effected his es- cape, they returned to the room above. ‘I tell you, mother,” Gibbs said, as he drop- onto a chair, ‘‘this game is gettin’ weak at the knees. Too many blunders are being made,” ‘*Oh! maype ve can get der poy ag’in, my tear!” “That’s not the only blunder that has been made, old gal, not by a good deal!” “Wy, v’at else is wrong?” ste y Mark has gone and stuck a pig in the you sure ?” ? eye.” ‘*Stuck a pig in de eye!” ‘* Yes, so to put it. mean he has allowed his part of the game t» miscarry.” ‘* How vas dot?” ‘“ Why, you know he went to meet the man Allan, to drug and decoy him here. as we plan- ned it. Well, he found him and got the drug into him, and then suddenly imagined that some one had seen him do it. He was so worked-up and nervous about it that he gotoff the train at a way station and waited for the next one. The consequence is, Allan has arrived in the city, and 5 do not dss where he ae . !m ess, My g ess! at a paby-calf de ‘Ca tain?is!® ‘*He’s worse! I thought he had a little sand in him, but I guess it’s all dust.”
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Jubilee Joe, the Chain-Lightning D **So it seems to pe.” **See here, Mother, do you know that we hold a good hand in this game?” “* Hal ha! ha! chust vot I said ven Tom vent avay! Isaid to my old self,sez I, ‘Go your vay, my fine laddie, put ton’t carry your head apove your shoulders too Righ. I vork for those who pay the pest, and if you fail to give me my due, there may be von too many in this game.’ Ha! ha! ha!” ‘*T see you’ve cut your eye-teeth, Mother.” ‘‘He! he! he! Vy, my son, I cut dem years an’ years ago! So long ago, in fact, that ’veal- most vorn ’em out keepin’ ’em sharp. Ha! ha! ha!” And as she laughed, the eye-teeth in ques- tion protruded from her shriveled mouth in a most hideous manner. “If we wanted to, Mother, we could chip in a cold deal on them, splendidly.” ‘** To pe sure ve could.” ‘* We've got the girl, you see.” ‘Hal ha! Yes, ve have got de girl!” ** And all this insurance stands in her name.” “*To pe sure—to pe sure!” Here they both laughed, long and loudly. They hitched their chairs up close together, and then for half an hour or longer they con- versed in low whispers, evidently afraid that the very walls would hear them. But, to return to Joe. CHAPTER XI. [BY CAFTAIN MARK WILTON,] JUBILEE’S PROTEGE, THE boy’s chances seemed desperate indeed for a brief space of time, but the man’s grasp had hardly tightened before it relaxed and his hands fell to his side. *“No, no!” he exclaimed. ‘‘ Heaven forgive me, what mad idea was in my brain. Boy, you spoke only naturally, but you made a grave mis- take. I am not intoxicated, nor do I drink strong liquors.” They were near a lamp-post, and as he rested one hand against it and stood unsteadily, the light fell full upon him. Accustomed to reading of faces, Jubilee Joe formed a new opinion of him as he thus saw his face plainly. ‘* You're sick, mister,” he said. **T am,” was the hoarse reply. ** When was ye took?” **T don’t know, but I do know that I am in a bad way. Boy, you look honest, dirty as you are, The two looked at each other, the stranger using an evident effort to collect his senses and, it seemed, to read the boy. On his own part, Joe saw a handsome young man of about twenty-five, who looked bold and manly, and who wore a sailor’s dress. **Reckon I will average with a crowd,” Joe replied. ‘I’ve lost my bearings, and am steerin, about without compass on an untracked sea. have been drugged, and am about as fit to care for myself as a child. I have a little money. Can I trust you to see me anchored in a safe harbor?” It was a request Joe would not always have regarded favorably, but he had taken a fancy to the stranger, and did not like the idea of leaving him to be preyed upon by the human sharks of the vicinity. But to what place could he take him? He was afraid the railroad men would not give him a place on the truck, where Joe ogg slept, and he had no better quarters to offer. Suddenly he remembered Johnny Flynn, his | English friend, and the case was settled. Johnny | was a good fellow at heart, as he had proved by saving Joe from his enemies when he hid under the table, and Joe felt sure he would give quar- | ters to this stranger, since he had the money to pay for it. ee it was a safe, though humble, place. So to Johnny’s Joe conducted his new ac- quaintance, steadying his weak steps and talk- ing in his whimsicalway. His befogged protégé could not remember his own name, but he did remember that he had been on a sea voyage of / some duration; that he had landed in New York and then taken the cars for samen van His dazed state of mind had begun soon after drink- ing a glass of water on the train. Once at Johnny’s, arrangements were soon made by which a room was given the sailor, he paying in advance. lane Joe went up-stairs and helped him into bed. He soon fell asleep, and the boy was about to leave him when he noticed several marks in India ink on his arm, sailor fashion. Joe examined them. On one arm was a pictured ship under full sail; on the other, an anchor. But the boy saw more. In the middle of the anchor was a line of let- ters, running lengthways, and under a close scrutiny these soon resolved themselves into a name: “ANDREW ALLAN. 11—2—50.” ‘¢ Jemima P. C, Jenkins!’’ ejaculated the boy, ‘‘what’s he got them there fur? That’s ther name o’ th’ pound-cake crocodile what got his ce life, insured fur twenty thousand dol- ars. Wonder why fur this sailor chap has sech a sign flyin’ at his binnacle-head, or foreto royal-peach-blossom yard, or whatever it'scalled? Look-a-here, Jubilee Joe, ther older you git ther more infermation you run onter. Reckon ‘ae may yit die with inflammation o’ ther brain. ’gosh, I must think o’ this, sub rosary. Be thar two Andrew Allans, or be thar less, or more? I guessthere is, but nothin’ is more un- sartain than a sure fact. Dllsleep on it. Ef I can’t do nothin’ else, I kin play policy on 11—2— 50.” So Joe went to bed himself, after taking a bath, for Johnny offered him quarters, and he was not going to neglect a chance to be near his protégé. Remembering Laura Murray, he felt that he ought to inform some one in authority that she was held a prisoner at ‘‘ Mother” Hickley’s, but he had never had good luck when dealing with the police. They had always snubbed him in the past, and he felt sure they would laugh at him now if he asked for their help. ‘*No; I’ve got ter play a lone hand, an’ if I don’t hold trumps enough, I must stock ther kyards; that’s all.” And he went to sleep. In the morning he found his protégé somewhat better. He said his name was Andrew Allan, that he had formerly lived at Lancaster, but had been at sea for some time. He had come to Philadelphia, after landing at New York, be- cause some one had sent for him; but whoit was he could not tell, nor why they wanted him. Joe decided that it was probable his head would become fully clear by night, so it was ar- ap that he should stay where he was until then, This settled, the boy descended to the tap- room. There he found the loungers laughing over a letter some previous visitor had dropped. It was a gushing love-letter and, at first, Joe felt little interest in it. Later, when he read it, his views changed. He had not forgotten his engagement to call at Mrs, Bradford’s and see the false Laura Mur- ray, to whom he had promised to deliver a let- ter Which existed only in his mind. Now the desired chance was offered him, This effusive love-letter did not contain the name of the young woman for whom it was intended; it would be the easiest thing in the world. to deliv- er it to Sally Mark, alias Laura Murray, and make her think it was intended for her. Believing this to be a good idea, Joe asked Johnny for the letter and received it. The good- hearted man also gave Joe a fresh suit of clothes to replace those he had taken into the well with him, which were coated with mud which stuck to them closer than a brother. The new suit was a good fit; so good, in fact, that another boy of Joe’s sizemmight havestowed himself away in them at one and the same time. Freshly equipped, the boy set out for Mrs. Bradford’s, where he arrived withoutadventure. A ring of the bell brought a brisk young Irish girl to the door, and he asked to see ‘‘ Miss Lau- ra Murray.” \ : ‘* Begorra, why didn’t ye come afore dhe milk- men was out?” she asked. : ‘TP you take me ter be a drummer fur milk- an’-water, you’ve sot up my sign on th’ wrong corner. DoT look like a tin-can fiend? See any- thing about me that resembles a pump? S’pose [keep cows on ther half-shell?’ innocently in- quired Joe. ‘*Go along wid your sassy tongue. What I mean to say is that this is no hour to call on a leddy. She ain’t up wid dhe mornin’ A ana ‘¢Then Dll wait fur her. Reckon I kin enjoy myself jist as wal with sech a purty gal as you be, ez with any other gal, I do.” Kitty—that was her name-—looked pleased at this flattery. ‘* But have yez really business wid dhe young mistress?” ‘*T hey a letter 1 am ordered under penalty 0’ a fu’st-class thrashin’ ter deliver ter her own hands, an’ no flea-blown ’Merican bloke ain’t go- in’ ter play traitor this Centennial year.” This settled the matter, and Kitty invited him in and gave him a seatin the kitchen. She liked muaxt , and had taken a strong fancy to 08, etective. 11 The latter resolved to make good use of his time. ‘*Mrs. Bradford must ’a’ been right glad ter see Lauray’ he carelessly observed. ‘*She was that, though she hadn’t seen her since she was a baby; and Laura was more s0 to find her. Andrew Allan’s comin’, too, this fore- ‘* Tt’ll be a reg’lar family jamboree.” ‘**T do hope they’ll like each other,” continued Kitty, volubly. ‘So do I,” said Joe, with a wise wink, though he had no idea about what she was talking. “Tt would be an illegant wedding.” ‘** Bang-up,” Joe agreed. “Do ye know dhe full partic’lars?” **Not all on’em, §S’pose you elucidate while I wait.” ‘Oh! ye see it was an old family matter, an’ Laura an’ Andrew was betrothed whin she was ababy. Thin dhe Allans lift England an’ come to Lancaster, an’ soon afther Laura’s father died —they was livin’in London. She wint to live in Yorkshire, an’ stayed there till a year ago, Thin she came to America, an’ wint to Lancas- ter, too; but Andrew was gone. Thin whin Laura’s aunt died, she wint to live at Pittsburg. So Mrs. Bradford’s letter from a London lawyer said. Ye see Andrew had gone to say, ah’ be- tween us, I suspect he wint’cause he didn’t want to marry a girl picked out for him by some wan else, But no matter about that, since all has coom around roight.” ‘*T know all this, straight ez a copper’s club; but how did it git around all right?’ carelessly inguired Joe. “Oh! *twas Mrs. Bradford, bliss her dear soul! She was an ould fri’nd o’ Mr, Allan’s mither an’ she wanted to bring thim togither an’ see i they could loike aich ither. She found out whin Mr. Allan’s ship was due in New York, an’ she wrote to him, an’ to Laura at dhe same toime— she had Laura’s addriss from the lawyer, you know—though niver a worrud did she giveawa to Laura; only tellin’ her in dhe letther that if she w’u’d coom she w’u’d get her employment; so Miss Laura accepted dhe invitation. She’s here a’ready, an’ Andrew Allan has sint word he’ll coom dhe forenoon,” Joe began to see clearer. “We they git spliced, how much fur boodle will th’ two on ’em have ter stave off ther gnaw- in’ pangs 0’ hunger an’ sich?” ‘© Oh! they say dhere is thirty thousand pounds in ould England—that’s near a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. But if they don’t marry they be git a rid cent.” ys) nas ess so, jess so; an’ that’s w hope they'll hitch barson” 4 rah ** So do I. ac“ Ya-as.” “Ts he nice?” ‘* He’s a purty good looker, you kin bet your last year’s shoes. Didn’t you never see him, Kitty?” ‘* Niver; an’ what is funnier, he an’ Miss Laura niver hey sane aich ither since they’ve growed up, an’ Mrs, Bradford has niver seen him nayther, since he’s grown to a man. Strange, ain’t it?” ‘The shadder o’ a strangeness does seem ter fall athwart ther horizing,” Joe agreed, ‘‘ but I shall let them harness their own hosses, while I saw wood an’ say nothin’,” ** Ave coorse, an’ so shill I.” Just then the sound of a bell summoned Kitty, and Joe was left alone, much to his relief. He wanted to think this complicated matter over. ‘¢ There’s a light in ther East, an’ I begin ter ketch onver ther pints o’ ther game started by Gibbsy, ‘Cap’ Mark ‘an’ Tom Smith. Laura Murray an’ Andrew Allan was half-married, or, as Kitty calls it, betrothed—good word that; re- minds me o’ a steel-trap—when they was kids. One was brung up in Lundon, an’ t’other in Lan- caster, Penny. They ain’tsee’d each other since they kin remember, an’ Mrs. Bradford ain’t see’d either since they was kids. ‘¢ Andrew, bein’ a chap o’ spunk, didn’t like ther idee o’ bein’ married like a stick, so he run away ter sea, an’ when Laura got ter Lancaster, he wa’n’t thar. But Mrs. Bradford hez got ther idee o' bringin’ them tergether, Wal, she’s goin’ ter git some sorto’ cattle tergether, an’ right here comes in ther fine Italian band o’ Smith, Mark an’ Gibbs. Ez Mrs. Bradford, Laura an’ An- drew don’t know each other from three bales 0’ hay, it is proposed ter work in Smith as Andrew, an’ Sally Mark as Laura. Ez Daniel Webster said to ther flea, ‘Thar’s no great bite without some small bug.” ‘*Now, what about my pard, with ‘Andrew Have yez sane Mr, Allan?” ees
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ee 12 Allan an 4-11-44’—or whatever it is—stamped onter his sailor arm? I reckon as how ther real A. A. looms up like a comical comet on a lush, Butif they drugged. him, ez seems likely, how does it happen he’s floatin’ round here loose? He’s as dang’rous ter them as a ship with Yaller Jack on board. An’ what about this insurance on Tom Smith’s life, in Andrew’s name? Oh! that’s ez plain as a copper’s stomach. They will try ter kill ther real Andy Allan, an’ then per- dooce his defunct carkiss an’ git ther twenty thousand, Reckon I ought ter put ther insurance folks onter this -acket. “But, hole on; go slow, Josey, you fresh young kid. Don’t be too previous. Ef they prove Andy Allan dead, how is he goin’ ter keep on livin’ an’ share ther boodle he gits by marry- in’ Laura Murray? Gosh all ’tater-bugs, thar’s a weak p’int inmytheorum. Reckon this water is too * ee fur wadin’ an’ too thick fur swim- min’, Ther gang can’t be arter both boodles, an’ ther interrogatory rises, which boodle is wanted?” Just then Kitty reappeared, and said that Mrs. Bradford and Miss Murray were in the sit- ting-room, and that Joe could go in and deliver his letter. The boy, however, still had his latest puzzle in his mind, and he proceeded to ask the servant more questions. They brought him no informa- tion, and he walked slowly toward the sitting- room, ‘Things is awfully mixed; wuss than a rail- road § sh-up, an’ I need a backer. [’ma lame dog, jest now, an’ orter be helped over ther fence. Who kin do it? I must see my pard, ther sailor chap. If he’s recovered th’ use o’ his brains, mebbe be will know somethin’.” He had now reached the sitting-room door, He heard voices within, but, without stopping, he boldly opened the door and entered. The false Laura Murray and an old lady were there—and some one else, Jubilee stopped in sudden surprise, for he stood face to face with Tom Smith, alias An- drew Allan! CHAPTER XII. [BY WM. R. \EYSTER.] JUBILEE IN A PARLOR, THE pings st made by Jubilee Joo came near knocking him down, ““T scream an’ water millyuns, but here’s a go!” was his mental exclamation. ‘Fur a boy thet’s bin sharp’nin’ his nose on every grindstun’, from here ter Fairmo’nt Waterworks, this is ther delightfullest mix his mother’s darlin’ could athortov. Kin I, ercan’t I? Here goes, ef it takes a wheel off!” Fortunately, Joe could think like lightning; and when he got through it all hung together. It was too late now for retreat, since he saw that the moment the door opened the eyes of the three were fixed upon him, and the only chances for him were to brazen it out, or try a new dodge al- together, Instantly his left eye took on a squint, and he ambled into the room with a limp and a twist in his leg, that was anything but like his ordinary mode of 9 ads TESS, ‘‘Say, Misses Bradford, hes Jubilee Joe bin here yet this mornin’? The lantern-jawed, tor- tle-toed, red-headed, knock-kneed, hick-jop hes jest skunned me outen a half a case ef he hes, an’ I’m goin’ fur ter pit even afore I’m through.” He was street Arab already, and he threw all the earnestness into his query that was necessary to make it sound like the genuine thing. The false Andrew Allan gave a great start, and then fell to eying the youngster keenly. Miss Laura Murray—as she was here known—looked uncom- fortable; while Mrs. Bradford held up her hands at the unexpected apparition, exclaiming in a curious, cracked voice: ‘Bless my heart, you rude, impudent boy! What do you mean by coming here? What do I know about ‘Jubilee Joe,’ and who are you?” ‘*Moe? i'm Billy Butcher; an’ I kin give yer ther hull fax in pertick’ler meter, an’ friz ter suit ther condish of ther atmo-spear.” “But I do not want any facts. Get out of this, you little vagabond. I didn’t mean it. Go away! Kitty! Kitty! Come and turn the little villain out.” Tom Smith had been watching his young en- emy, but he was still fairly puzzled. , He was in- clined to think all boys were Jubilee Joe that morning—he had seen him a dozen times in a dozen different garbs on his way thither, and it was of Jubilee Joseph he had first thought when the youth entered the room. disguise that Joe Bindley had unwittingly ee eee ee ee ee assumed had thrown him off the track, however ; though with the sharpness of men of his stam he scented a very large-sized rat in the meal- tub. He raised his head and looked again. After the tumble into the mud of the old well Joe had to clean himself, and the fresh face, the well-combed hair, and the decent clothes made a complete disguise. ‘* A moment, Mrs. Bradford. These gutter- snipes don’t generally trust themselves inside of a house unless they have an errand of some kind, and I really think it would be as well if we heard what he hastosay. If he cannot give a good excuse for his intrusion, I assure you I will lift him over the doorstep with the toe of my boot. Will you allow him to proceed?” ‘** Certainly, Andrew, if you wish to hear. He gave me a start, coming in all of a sudden; and we have so much totaik about, anyway. Go on, little boy. What is it you wish to know? Tell us your whole story. You speak as though some one had injured you and you thought that we were in some way helping him.” ** Guess ye’r’ out, right there. He ain’t ther kind ov a snoozer ter want much help when it comes ter pullin’ ther wool over ther eyes ov greenies like you pear ter be. Me an’ Josey found a letter, an’ Joe, he sed ez how ther thing were dropped by a feller he knowed, an’ that he’d bin ’round an’ seen ther ghal it was fur, an’ she war ter gi’n him a dollar ter bring it ’round; at.’ he sed halvers. But I wouldn’t gi’n up ther letter, so me an’ him fit; an’ I jest whaled ther boots offen him. ‘* So I hed ther letter, an’ he hed ther place it was ter go to; an’ there we both was. So I played it fine, an’ tole him ter shake, an’ ef he’d tell me where it were ter go fur I'd divvy up his regulars. Then he tole me it were ‘fur Sally Mark, w’ot lived here with Mrs, Bradford; an’ we talked her over, an’ ’greed ter kim ’round here early in ther mornin’.” ~ ‘Tn that case I can’t see that) you have any- thing to complain of,” interrupted Smith, quite coolly. ‘‘ You are here with the letter, and if Joseph is not around to get his share of the promised dollar—which I do not think you will earn here—you are all the better off. Mrs. Bradford, have you any one in the kitchen an- swering to the name of Sally Mark?” The false Laura Murray cast upon him a furious look, but before the old lady could an- swer, Joe broke in: ‘Hold on! Yer ain’t heerd ther wwu’st ov it. When I were a-snoozin’, round at Bolly De- wees’s, he went through my kicksies; an’ now he’s got stiff an’ all, an's goin’ ter stun me outen me regulars. So, ef he comes, won’t yer please nab ther slum an’ beller fur a cop? You kin send ther coach-wheel round ter Bolly’s, whar I roost, er I’Jl call here ag’in later. Josey"ll hike it, when he sees yer fly ter his plant, an’ I swear itll save u settlement. Ef J stag ther nibs ov ther queer kid, I'll croake ther sneak, ef it fits me fur'a wooden overcoat.” Mrs, Bradford looked from the boy to Andrew Allan in helpless amazement. This last was all Greek to her, though it was all flash to Tom, who could ‘‘ weed the slang” himself with the best of them, But what was the mystery about. this letter for Sally Mark? and how was he to prevent the suspicions of Mrs. Bradford from being aroused? He cast a sly glance at his confederate, and saw something in her face that satisfied him there was more in it all than even the boy let out, Pérhaps some one was playing him false? If so, he had the chance to’unearth thetreachery through this youngster who had so opportunely turned up. And through him it would be easy to get this confounded Jubilee Joe into his clutches again. The failure of the attempt of Mother Hickley had not only, frightened him, but it had shown that it was more than an or- dinary youngster who, under the table at John- ny Flynn’s, had heard enough to post him pretty well in regard to their plot. He knew Sally was watching him keenly, and he did not want to let her into his little game, so he proceeded carefully. ‘Ah, I think I understand; though you do make use of some very outlandish words. Of course you’re laboring under a mistake. Per- haps this Joe whom you speak of has willfully deceived you. While you are wasting your time here, he has gone to the right house and made his dollar.” ‘* Rf I find out thet he hes, ’1 klem his nibs till his bugle hangs over his tile. Ef he tickles me fur a flat PU kick him fur a mule, an’ don’t yer furgit it! So-long, pards! I'll see yer Diab atin in th began ‘*T am almost.a stranger in the city,” Smith, ‘‘and may want a good, sharp boy for y F bie Ny nd es Pp Lethe Hyde y Be SA. Toner Tas eT lt ea Ee SAE ta ie . h mia Fah trertitad elt: eure re ee eee MEAN oe Witt ped WEE ree Malis leet : Jubilee Joe, the Chain-Lightning Detective. an occasional errand. Indeed, I will need one this morning. When can I find you in—” Smith’s query was broken off by the sound of a ring of the door-bell. Itwas asteady, ponder- ous pull, that seemed. to have the elements of respectability in its clang, and yet it caused at least two ot those present*to look anxiously around. Who was likely to be calling on Mrs, Bradford at that early hour of the morning?” Kitty came in briskly with a card, which she showed to her mistress. ‘Bond, Bond,” muttered the old lady, ‘toh, indeed! Well, Kitty, show him in.” So with Jubilee Jce still waiting for the unfinished question, and everybody more or less uncomfortable, the gentleman was ushered in. ‘*'Ther main buildin’ to a soap-box!” thought Joe. ‘Ef it ain’t ther V. P., call me a brass- back, copper-Lottom, A No.1 liar! Kin he be after me? He’s surspicious ov everythin’ jist now, an’ ef he claps peepers on me it won’t be no slouch ov a job to fool him.” For the present, at least, Mr. Bond was fully engaged with Mrs. Bradford; and Tom Smit was too much interested in the intruder and what could be learned of his intentions, to finish his sentence, or even remember that there was a young man—by the possible name of Butcher —in the room. The three made a group by themselves, and. Jubilee Joe saw a chance to get in a little more of his work. Without delay he sidled over toward Miss Mark, and giving her a wink, that in its shrewdness defies description, he showed her the letter which he had held concealed in his hand. Her eyes = rn wide, and then snapped and 8 onion She understood. The boy was even Sarber than she had thought. Recognizing that this young man might be a lover of hers, he had thrown off suspicion in a wonderfully adroit way, at some risk to him- self. Though not trusting herself to speak, even in a whisper, her lips fashioned the words: “Good boy! I won’t betray you; and I will reward you when there are no spectators to sus- ect. Just now I 1nust see what is going on. lip out the way you came while they are not looking.” Very good advice, that; but Joe had no inten- tion of taking it as long as he could see some- thing better. He nodded, passed the letter over, and then was ready to see what Ezra Bond, vice- resident, could make out of Tom Smith, and learn, if possible, what chance had brought him there, Thereseemed to besomething strangely exciting about the meeting between the older two; but Joe Bindley had missed the preliminary part of the conversation, and could not make much out of the first scattered words that he heard, ex- cept that they were probably old acquaintances, who had lost sight of each other for years. The first connected thought that the boy es was: ‘* And now you'll excuse me if I ask what the chance was that brought you here, I know you did not expect to see me.” ‘*No, indeed; and you must forgive me for the truth so frankly expressed. I made some inquiries in the neighborhood as to who lived in this house; and even then your name sug nothing. Not to make a mystery, I saw this young gentleman enter.” He gracefully waved his hand toward the fic- titious Allan, to whom he had simply bowed on entering. ‘“We had some little business together, and afterward it struck me that I had been too easily impressed by his appearance and manner, and had learned too little about him and his cir- cumstances. It was in search of sucn informa- tion that I entered your house, not knowing that I was going ”—here he uttered a little la that brought the suspicion of an antiquated flush to the face of the elder lady, while he added—‘‘ to meet my fate.” ‘* Do not be foolish, Ezra. I am too old to be flattered; and the saddest thing in life is. to think of the long ago, and remember that it has gone forever.” She heaved an asthmatic sigh, and Jubilee Joe came near bursting right out. The sentiment, the sigh, and the old lady’s high falsetto voice to- gether were almost too much for him. ‘ne antiquated old hen! Ef he ain’t madea mash on her you kin sell my mammy’s eldest fn a supple-jack, Ef ther’s a Mrs, Bond lyin’ *round loose, wonder ef I couldn't make a ten- strike by peddlin’ w’ot I know about 1,299 Spruce street ter her. She makes me tired.” Ezra Bond did not seem to find it soridiculous; but the ways of a man who has put business first. Bi ay Lage ls:
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for a great many years are not easily changed. He went back to the subject in hand, ‘*T take it, then, that this gentleman is a friend of yours.” “What! Andrew Allan! To be sure, sir. I have tried to do some little good in my life, but never did I do anything that gave me more sat- isfaction than the bringing together of these two who have been so long separated—Mr. Allan and Laura Murray. Allow me to introduce to you my protegée, whom I had not seen for years un- til she came to me last night.” Sally Mark half raised from her seat, drooped forward in a graceful courtesy, and with down- cast face murmured a word or two of answer to the introduction. The daughter of ‘* Captain” Mark could hold her own anywhere. It is true that she was there as a fraud upon Mrs. Bradford; that for the last few hours she had decided that she must go through the form of a marriage ceremony with the fictitious Al- jan; and imagined that she had a letter from an- other lover in her bosom; but she sat there as modest as a daisy and as brave as a lion. Meantime an idea had struck Jubilee Joe, and he had been scribbling a line or two on a bit o paper, held in the inside of hishat. Just as b ad smuggled the stub of pencil away, Mr. Bond’s eyes rested squarely on him. ‘¢ Hello!” heexclaimed, ‘‘ yow’re here, are you? I thought you were to call around at my office; Tve a mind to turn you over to the police, as a swindler!” ‘*Tve bin there,” put in Joe, in haste. ‘‘ Sign up sed ‘ Gone to the country, be back in a week. owed it was a bouncer tho’, an’ meant ter kim back ag’in this a, mM, I’d’a’ bin there afore this, ef Josey hadn’t a-went back on me. I didn’t know where yer house were, an’ it wa’n’t no use ter hang ’round there when ther ranch were so empty it couldn’t hear ther jigger bang. I seen him, though, an’ it’s hunky-dunk all ther way from Squedunk. Here’s yer answer, an’ he sez ef that ain’t plain ernuff, when he sees yer royal nibs he’ll tell yer some more.” Joe limped boldly forward and handed to Mr. Bond the piece of paper on which he had been scribbling. ‘*Oh, allright! Then you didn’t forget that you had a quarter, and that I owned your time until you got back? My son—” “Oh, stow yer whids, dad! Don’t be lettin’ ther secrets outen ther fambly! Still, ef I must tack Bond onter ther end ov Billy Butcher, don’t ye think it’s worth another quarter anyhow?” ‘Don’t be impudent, Billy, or the jobs will stop coming in. Here’s your quarter; but the next time I want to wait twenty-four hours for an address, I’ll go myself.” ‘¢ All right, me noble guy. I’m through here, an’ jest bin a-waitin’ on you. * Pll dub ther ‘jig an’ track ther dancers. When yer want me yer know where to find me, an’ every time yer put yer forks on me, yer touch ther clean wedge.” As well as his assumed lameness would per- mit, he swaggered off the stage. ; ‘“A strange boy,” remarked the Vice-Presi- dent, as the door closed, ‘‘ but in spite of his strange ways and slang, I find him shrewd and reliable; and, I hope, reasonably honest.” * Just so, Mr. Bond,” responded Andrew Al- lan, who had been keeping an eye on the scrap of paper that Joe had hand»d to the Vice- President, His suspicions had been aroused, and he felt as though he would give something nice to see what was written on it. The Vice-President bad held it a moment in his fingers, and then thrust it carelessly in his vest-pocket without looking at it. When they parted, the Vice-President did not notice that while Mr. Allan’s right hand held his, his left hand grazed his vest, aor did*he know that the corner of paper that had been visible there no longer protruded from his pocket. The paper was totally forgotten. He had thought it only a bit of stage property, to carry out the drama, and would have been surprised could he have seen Tom Smith, around the next corner, gloating over his prize. It read: ‘**Ask Mrs. Bradford for Andrew Allan’s birth- day.” While he was conning this significant note, Sally Mark was holding in her hands a longer one that seemed to cause her some trouble, yet furnish some amusement. ‘‘'The worthless whelp,” she was saying to her- self. ‘‘It?s aletter of Tom’s after all: and he’s gone on ‘another girl. What did that young snoozer mean by giving it tome? There’s some double work about this, and I must have a talk with pa. I’ve found outmore here in a few hours than they did in as many weeks, Why didn’t Tom stay, though? Confound him! It won’tdo for him to die now until he can leave me his 13 Tu keep the biggest share of the proceeds my- self. Still, if L don’t give Tom his divy, he She was staring out of the window. Now she saw aman approaching the house, who keenly eyed the front, and as he passed made a slight signa with his hand. It was Gibbs, looking as little like himself as possible. His signal indi- cated that he had something important to com- municate. ‘*Confound the fool! that I can get out to see him? would be dangerous to be seen in his company. He’d sell his own mother for a cent.” She spoke pettishly, yet she knew very well that Gibbs was not the man to run any unne- cessary risks; and as it happened that the visit of Mr. Bond had rather upset Mrs. Bradford, so that she left her visitor atone for a little while, Sally saw her chance and sallied out, She turned down the next side street, and presently came face to face with Gibbs, who was slowly sauntering back. ‘*See here, young man,” she said, in a low tone, ‘‘ what are you skylarking ’round here for? If you want to make a clean buw’st-up just do it some more. If you want to get word to me you must talk to pa, or Tom,” “Tf I could have found Tom, you bet I wouldw't have come poking my nose into these regions, It was the ‘Captain’ that sent me. He wanted you and Tom to know that the girl has gone to old Grim,” ‘t Not dead ?” exclaimed Sally. ‘¢ Very dead, if you want to have it that way. Cut all up intolittle pieces and packed in a box.” He grinned at the way cool Miss Sally was up- set, and then hastily added: ‘‘Mam made a mess of it last night, and she slipped the slum, I twigged her as she went through, and hiked it after her, lively. There didn’t happen to be a soul around at first, and she was too scared to yell, When she reached Spruce street she tried to mount a car, fell under the wheels, and that was the last of her, Of course we had nothing to’ say, but there wasn’t enough left of her face to swear by.” CHAPTER XIII. (BY WILLIAM R, EYSTER.) A REAL DECOY. Ir Ezra Bond did not notice the abstraction of the paper from his vest-pocket, some one else did. keen as Tom Smith thought himself, he had failed to catch sight of Master Joe, who How does he expect } was watching the leave-taking with thorough | disgust, ‘Blame my eyes ef that man’s any more fit ter do biz than a basswood dog with a poplar tail! He ter come snookin’ round, messin’ every- thin’ up! Why, dog bite him! ain’t J on ther trail? Uvea mind ter—yes, it dlmost makes a feller feel like wringin’in on t’other side! An’ he hedn’t sense enough ter freeze onter ther big- gest p’int in ther game—leavin’ outen ’count ther feller 've got cooped down at Johnny Flynn’s. Betcher sweet life he’s ther ’rigernal Jacobs, ke weren't’ twenty-six years, three months, an’ ten days old, September fifth, eighteen seventy- six, ’Pears terme that makes a diff’runce ov *bout six months—an’— Blast Mr. V. P.! he’s ther feller ter work out ther figgers! It’s too deep fur me; but I’m bettin’ that wouldn’t read *11—2—50.’ Hol’ on! quick! An idee hits me—hard! That or’nary fiste’s goin’ somewheres ter digest, an’ Jl] skin it back to Mrs. Bradford’s an’ ax her myself. I hate ter lose sight on him; but it’s too good a dot ter miss. Here goes.” He hit his chance admirably well, for, just as he came in sight of the house again, Sally Mark | was sailing off to interview Gibbs, leaving the coast clear. To his ring, Mrs. Bradford herself answered, As he was in a hurry, he wasted no time with superfluous words. ‘* Mister Bond sent me back, ma’m. It’s ther uestion he were goin’ ter ax yer hisself, when | ther twinklum in yer eyes knocked him all abroad. He can’t fill. up ther papers till he knows it sure frum some one else. When were | Mister Allan born?’ That Joe was the messenger of the Vice-Presi- dent of the insurance company would not seem so improbable, after what she se lately heard. In fact, she had not the least suspicion. ‘* His birthday? Yes. Let mesee, I know it well omy Se was looking at the figures only the other day. It was the second of November, And if I could it | An’ ef them marks mean anything, I'll | pe up all Fillymaclink ag’in’? a match-box that | Clap a hot poultice on | 1850, Wait. Tl get a poncil and write it down for you. You may forget it.” oy ain’t furgittin’ much, but here’s yer pencil. If it ain't writ, he may think I’m a-workin’ roots. That’sit. Thank’e. Thatsettlesit. Ye’r’ a good woman, an’ we make a team. » Day-day! Who sez Jubilee Joe can’t climb a chimbley!” | He was off before the old lady could return } him an answer; and he went dancing down the street in utter forgetfulnessof his assumed lame- ness, Asa general thing, Joe kept up with the news of the day; a percentage of iis first shine going, if necessary, toward the purchase of a morning Aper, This morning he had been too busy even to listen to the chant of the newsboys, until now he turned up an ear. “‘ Hyar’s yer mornin’ papers! All erbout ther gal w’ot got killed on Spruce!” / Jubilee Joe had girl on thebrain just then. A cold chill dropped off his brain, ran down the nape of his neck, and fell into his boots. “ Here, Jakey! What’s that about a gal?” ‘Tried to get on er street-car, an’ face mashed to a jelly. Fork over yernickel an’ git yer right change a iy Joe caught a glimpse of the head-lines, and then invested. e had, somehow, a presenti- ment, and his hand shook a little as he read how a girl came rushing wildly into Spruce street, and how there was a scream and a jolt. When the body was picked up, life was nearly extinct: the face presented a a vibia spectacle; and a wound on the temple would alone have been sufficient to cause Heng instant death. Noth- ing could be learned of her except that she had been seen flying along the cross street, and that from some direction a rumor had floated around that her name was Sally, . Joe scratched his head, brushed his eyes with his coat-sleeve, and then stuffed the paper into his pocket for future reference. **T might a-knowed it! Passed in her checks, an’ went up ther flume while I were a-sashayin’ round town with young 4-11-44, Ther fat’s all ; in ther fire now, an’ that nin ov a Ezry Bond | kin jest take my keards an’ play out ther hand. “No! Pll be durned. an’ double durned ef he kin!” he added, with sudden vehemence, ‘‘Laura Murray’s dead; Andrew Allan is blind crazy; uncle Ezry’sa blasted fool; an’ ther gang that’s workin’ roots don’t need ter git a file ter make the’r eye-teeth sharp. But Joe Bind- | ley’s still around, fur blood an’ha’r. Let ’em | twirl their jenny fur all that’s in ther bank; but afore it stops Jubilee Joe’ll be there fur ven- | geance! Now fur ther genooine Allan. | He’s all ther capital I’ve got left, an’ I dunno ef he’s | enuff ter start.a bank er not.” | . He had no particular plan of operations just ; } ; now, but he intended in some ay to checkmate the rascals, and, if possible, to bring them to justice. He—Joe—entered Flynn’s very quietly, and made his way to the room he had secured for the stranger, So afraid was he of wakening his charge that he touched the door very lightly, and only opened it a little bit. 5 Allan was sleeping sweetly indeed; but by his | bedside, scrutinizing him with a keen gaze, stood the man of all men whom Joe least desired to | see there—Tom Smith, the false Andrew Allan. | One bared arm of the sleeper had been flung out | from under the cover, and staring him in the face Smith saw the mark—‘t Andrew Allan— | 11-2-50.” | Smith mastered it and the situation of affairs at about the same time. He turned toward the | door, and Joe had just time to shrink away and dart a few steps up the garret stairs, when he | came out and went directly to his own room. | Presently Joe came sidling in, just in time to | see Allan wake up, with eyes and brain reason- ably well cleared by his long sleep. At first he had some difficulty in identifying the boy; but he had a glimmering remembrance of what happened the previous evening, and re- cognized him at length. | “Oh, you’ve got a bully good furgetter! How | are yer on ther recomember? Maybe yer kin mind gittin’ yer life insured,” The young man looked up, smiling strangely enough. ‘‘ Why, yes, now that you speak of it, I do.” ‘* Who. for, and in what sum?” continued the | boy, more than ever interested and excited. “Twenty thousand dollars, for the benefit of a young lady named Miss Laura Murray; but I can’t heip. but remember that Iam indebted to you for taking good care of me,” ‘*Dry up on that!” shouted Joe. “Td ’a done ez much fur a brindle purp with a glass eye. Now, jest say it war done ‘yesterday / j | 1 |
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mornin’, Tuesday, September the fifth, in this year of grace an Gineral Washington—1876, right here in ther city of Phillymaclinka- delfy-i-a, down at th’ office of Ezra Bond, whar I took ye, an’ I’ll throw up therspung. IT’llsay ther fat is in ther fire, an’ Cap. Mark an’ Co, kin take ther pan. Now, let’s hear ye say some- thin’.” ** What are you talking about? The policy is in the Equitable, taken out in New York a year ago;and I know nothing about any Ezra Bond, nor was I in this city for the whale year, until last evening, just before I met you.” **Good enough!” shouted Joe, clapping his hands. ‘‘ Now I’m fly to ther hull game, an’ a wall-eyed mule with a game leg c’u’d bu’st ther snoozers wide open an’ take ’em all apart. Poor Laura! It’sa pity fur her; but they didn’t give me room ter turn meself accordin’ ter my size, an’ soit wa’n’t any wonder they got away with my baggage. Ther only thing left is ter git even, an’ a leetle more so.” ‘* Whom do you mean by ‘ Laura?” inquired the young man. ‘* Laura Murray, of Lancaster.” ‘*Heavens! How do you come to know any- thing about her? and what’s the matter with her? “ Nothin’s the matter now; she’s dead.” ** Dead |” He was more surprised than Sally Mark had been. With a bound he was out of bed and has- tily throwing on his clothes. “In a hurry, ain’t yer?) Fur a sick man, ’d say you wasrightspry. May ez well wait till I kin bring yer full pertick’lers. She can’t be buried till ter-morrow.” As the young man was so excited, Joe kept his head cool; and watching Allan, threw his arms around hiny just in time to save him from falling heavily to the floor. ‘*Tho'rt so. Ther blaze has nigh took ther stiffenin’ purty well outen yer. ou git back ter bed till, ye’r’ stronger, an’ I’ll go sot a inquest on ther corpus-licked-us. An’ ez Tom Smith ’ll be tryiw his dirty games, ef he hez the show, Tllhev Johnny put a man ’round to head him off. Ef yer keep on doin’ well, I rec’xon yer kin go out this P. M., if yer wantsto, an’ take asquint at ther girl yer were ter marry.” ‘‘ See here. How do you know—” But Joe was already out’of hearing. Having made his arrangements with Flynn, he hurried off down the street. A sudden hope had dawned upon him and he wanted to inspect the corpse. Scarcely had he emerged from the narrow cross-street and turned the corner, when Andrew Allan, white and shaky, stole out of the saloon and staggered away toward the other side of the block, e had lost no time, and so eluded Flynn, who, five minutes later, found his room empty. At the corner Allan lurched against a lamp- post, and holding on to it, stared around him in a dezed, uncertain sort of way, A voice in his ear hardly recalled him to him- self, ‘* xcuse me, sir, if I am mistaken; but you look to be in trouble. Can I help you any?” Allan looked up and saw a young gentleman, almost a counterpart of himself. ‘“Thank you,” he answered, trying to brush away the misty film that would curtain his eyes. ‘Did you hear anything about a young lady be- ing killed last night? Laura Murray was her name,and I’m her friend. I’m trying to find her.” The aristocratic-looking young man started as though some one had slapped hisface; but quick- ly recovered his self-possession, though evident- ly by an effort. ‘“‘Ah! the accident on Spruce street. How fortunate! You can clear up the mystery. I can take you to the body, because I happen to be one of the coroner’s jury. Here. Take my arm to yonder hack, You seem to be too weak to walk. We will bethere, then, in a jiffy.” And Johnny Flynn, alarmed somewhat for the gentleman who had been left in his charge, and making instant search, came bolting along just in time to see him following some one into a hack. The driver whipped up his horses, the vehicle rattled away, and Johnny could only suspect that the other occupant of the carriage was an- other of his boarders, Tom Smith, the fictitious Andrew Allan. CHAPTER XIV. (BY T. C, HARPAUGH.) JUBILEE AT THE INQUEST. Jupiter Joz knew where to find the coroner’s office, where was to be held the inquest over the Jce was not long in reaching the coroner’s office, the front door of which was open and be- sieged by a crowd of people. A big policeman who .ooked all dignity had | stationed himself in the doorway, and Joe re- cognized in him the very man who had forced him to leave the hack to which he had clung on | subject. heard, that the victim of the accident had used | too much haste in trying to board the car, and | had in consequence of her rashness lost her life. ‘‘ Mebbe ef they’d call Cap’n Mark thar they’d | learn suthin’ thet’d ’stonish ’em,” murmured Ju- | bilee Joe. ‘Couldn't [ throw a bomb-shell! | inter this court’ ov death by makin’ a simple the night Laura Murray was decoyed from the | suggestion? Guess I won’t, though; guess by by Ss and into the meshes of the conspirators. he boy had reasons for knowing that police- | and he at | thankee, no.” men are blessed with good memories once began to avoid the eyes of this M. P., who | | Philamajig! I’) not put any more witness-bees inter thet old high-kicker’s pocket. NotforJoe, The coroner rather abruptly announced the had stationed himself in the front door of the | conclusion of the investigation, and the police- coroner’s office. The young nudge his little body forward, worming him- self through the crowd with the dexterity of an imp. Joe knew well just what he wanted to do, and with one eye fixed on the policeman whenever he could see that individual, he kept on until he found himself beyond the door and in the room where the coroner was conducting in person ae investigation of so much importance to the OY. The room was rather commodious for an office, and Joe found it well crowded with a somewhat | motley crowd, many of whom he knew were not | witnesses but had been drawn thither out of curiosity. The coronér’s jury was composed of well-to-do citizens living in the vicinity of the office, and the most of them were old veterans at the busi- ness, who knew just how a verdict should be | | citizens ov Philadelphy. Joe was brought to a stand by hearing the | worded to convey the right impression. coroner’s clerk call the name of ‘* Achilles Spriggs,” and saw a youngish man with a sandy mustache step forward toward the wit- ness-chair. ‘*What is your occupation, Mr. Spriggs?’ asked the fat and fussy little coroner, when the | | other grave in the Potter’s field, boy.” witness had been sworn. ‘*T drive a street-car,” was the reply. ‘Ts Spruce street a part of your line?” “Yes, sir.” ‘* Were you driving vhe car which last night had the—the misfortune to strike the—ah! yes —the unfortunate subject of this coronial inves- tigation?” **T was.” ** Just so,” continued the coroner. ‘' Now, Mr. Spriggs, you may elucidate to the jury the circumstances of the lady’s sudden taking off. Speak slowly and pronounce distinctly, so as to a | man at once began to clear the room. Joe went bootblack detective now began to | out with the crowd and watched ‘ Captain” Mark stroll away with a pleased expression on his villainous countenance, but did not quit the vicinity himself. He stayed around until about half an hour | later, when he saw the members of the jury file out and separate into little groups ‘*They’ve filled up ther same old form, *bout Providence takin’ ther girl off, with no blame attached to ther street-car line. They’ll all ex- pect a pass over ther road fer thet verdict. ‘¢ Shine! shine! shine ’em up fer half a dime! an’ make ’em reflect yer piety an’ good charac- ter!” Joe approached one of the jury as he shouted his occupation at the top of his lungs, and had his foot upon the box before the man could re- monstrate. ‘*Only five cents, boy? sartain? ‘‘Thet’s all. I never humbug the prominent Bad go, thet on Spruce last night.” ‘*Terble,” said the man. ‘** Reckon you blamed nobody? ‘*We couldn’t, The girl used too much haste an’ got killed; that’s all there was of it.” ‘*Ov course. Whar is ther corpse?” ‘*Down at the undertaker’s, at Cecil’s, An- ‘“‘One more unfortunate,” said Joe, whose eyes looked moist, and his brushes flew faster than ever over the tops of the juryman’s boots. | no time on | ow my clerk to take your testimony verbatini | | ‘* Hit?s no morbid curiosity. I’m Jookin’ for a | lady friend what’s been missin’ fer five days, an’ et literatum.” Achilles Spriggs seemed confused by the to him incomprehensible wind-up of the coroner’s sentence, but soon collected enough thoughts to proceed in an intelligible manner. He gave a straightforward story of as much | of the accident as he had witnessed, which did | he not take long, and subsided suddenly and before some people thought him near the end. ‘* Did the lady appear to have any friends in the vicinity?” asked the coroner. ‘¢No, sir.” ‘* Didn’t anybody in the car at the time recog- nize her?” ‘* 1 believe not.” ‘* And nobody among the crowd attracted by the accident?” The driver hesitated for a moment. ‘*T recollect, now, that I saw a man look at the corpse and remark that it was a bad go for a young girl who was far from home and with- out friends in Philadelphy,” he said. ** You didn’t know the man?” ‘* No, sir.” ‘* He isn’t here now, is he, Mr. Spriggs?” The car-driver turned and began to survey the crowd behind him. ‘Tt warn’t me, as I’m not afraid ter look ’im in the eye,” said Joe, to himself. ‘‘Hello! who is thet feller dodgin’ thar? By jiggeree! it’s ther boss ov ’em all—the sweetest-scented cherubim ov ther whole lot—‘ Captain’ Mark himself!” Until that moment Joe had not seen this man, whose elbows almost touched him, and it was the * Captain’s ” efforts to avoid the searching eyes of er Spriggs that called the boy’s attention to him. The car-driver had by this time given up his search, and told the coroner that the man who had made the commiserating remarks about the girl was not in the house. The assurance seemed to relieve ‘‘ Captain” Mark, and he again became interested in the proceedings, but from that time on he was nar- rowly watched by Joe. ter the driver, several other witnesses were Thar ye ar’, mister! Toss yer nickel down this. way, an’ I’m off!” Joe was promptl; paid by the njan, and lost is way to the undertaker’s shop. He did not know this personage, but that did not orevent him from entering bis office and accost- ing him without a moment’s hesitation. ‘Say, mister, could an American citizen ov my size get a squint at ther victim ov ther Spruce street accident?” asked Jubilee Joe. strange corpses ar’ gittin’ all-fired common now- adays.” The undertaker looked for a moment as if he was going to refuse Joe’s request, but all at once said: ‘* Go into that room there and take a look,” Joe was not slow about accepting the favor, and the next minute he was gazing upon the vic- tim of the accident, the dead body of the sup- posed Laura Murray. ‘*That’s enough. J’m satisfied,” he said, turn- ing away. ‘Dll bet my bank-stock that that girl never saw Lancaster, an’ never heard ov Andrew Allan. Ill go back an’ cheer Allan up, an’ then I'll get a look into this beautiful con- spiracy. Look out for breakers, Gibbsy an’ Cap’n Mark!” CHAPTER XV. [BY DETECTIVE DOUGLASS.] JUBILEE ‘‘ FETCHES” GIBBS. JUBILEE JOE returned at once to Johnny Flynn’s, and there learned of the real Andrew Allan’s departure in company with Tom Smith, He felt both indignant and discouraged. Sitting down at one of the tables he buried his face in his hands, and thus remained for some time in deep thought. ‘© What shell 1 do?’ he muttered. ‘‘ Shell I go an’ blow etallout ter th’ perlice? Nix-ee! They’d claim all ther honors fer th’erselves! ‘“‘ What then? EfIcould only git Gibbsy in- to a tight hole, an’ make him come over ter my side— By th’ great George Henry Washington! that’s jist ther idee! Wonder{where I kin find | him, though¢ ‘* By ther great O. P. Q. Jackson! he’s jist ther) huckleberry I want now, an’ I want him bad! No time left now ter do enny more detective work. This here b’ile is jist about ripe, an’ itll bu’st afore I know et.” The boy was just about to start out when some one entered the saloon—Gibbs himself. The villain was looking savage enough to an-
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Jubilee Joe, the Chain-Lightning Detective. nihilate a person, and after he had gulped down a glass of yom he turned to leave the place. ut Joe called him back. ‘* Lookee heer, Gibbsy, I wanter see ye a min- nit!” he said. ‘* Got some portant biz; an’ef ye kno’ when yer skin’s safe, you’ll come an’ set down,” ‘* What do you mean?” Gibbs demanded. ‘* Bizness!” Joe assured grimly, ‘Ef you don’t wanter hear it you’ll wish ye hed, when ye git to Moya.” The villain uttered an oath and sat down. “ Whatdo you mean?” he growled. *‘T mean that ye’r’ playin’ a big game, but ye’r’ goin’ ter fail; an’ your only show is ter do ther traitor act, ter save yerself. Ef ye don’t ye ge ter jail along wi’ Tom Smith, Mark an’ 3a)! ‘** You don’t mean—” “You bet Ido! I’ve bin playin’ greasea-light- nin’ detective, an’ me an’ th’ Insurance Com- pany is dead on th’ racket. Ther hull game is up, an’ jail aire a-waitin’!” “You get out! You’re—” “‘Dry up! WhatIsayistrue. "Tain’t no use 0’ yer tryin’ to squeeze out, That gal w’at got killed on Spruce warn’t no Laura Murray. Shi I’m fly! Tell you what, Gibbsy, yer only show is ter come over ter our side. ‘*By doin’ that, you’ll save ten years up th’ Pennypack. Mebbe, too, itcan be arranged so th’ a pay ye, ef ye open yer mouth wide enuff. Gibbs looked thoughtful. ‘*Do you think so?” he demanded, after a mo- ment. ‘““Yes. You make a statement, givin’ th’ hull thing away, an’ I’ll fix it.” * You! Bah!” “ Yas: me!” ‘Pll have to see the money first.” ‘* Will you squeal if ye’r’ paid fer it?” “Yes; providing I am not got into trouble. Tam doing it now on my ow’ hook. Mark and I have had a growl, and I am_no fool!” ‘* Where did Smith take Allan?” Gibbs looked surprised. ‘* You young imp!” he ejaculated. you find out so much?” ‘Oh! I’m a hoss at thet kind o’ bizness! Ye hain’t answered me, though.” ‘*T know where he is.” Joe reflected. : ‘*'You stay here ’til I come back,” he said. “Tl see Ezra Bond, an’ make terms fer you. Don’t you leave here. Johnny, if this feller leaves yer place have him arrested.” ry nodded. sf here, boy,” Gibbs suddenly exclaimed. ‘*Tf I’m going to sell out this game, I'll go to old Bond aah make my own bargain. I won’t have a boy like you doing business for me,™ 4k On! er won't, ey” : ‘* No, Il won’t, hey ! ‘* Now, Gibbsy, seehere! ‘You jest look plumb- center inter my organs ov sight fer "bout a frac- tion of a second, an’ let’s know ef ye kin see enny green in there. D’ye suppose that I went through old ‘Mother’ Hickley’s crib last night *thout pickin’ up er few solid p’ints?” lt was Joe’s last card, butit proved his best. To his surprise Gibbs turned ate as death, and sunk down upon achair. It was quite evident that Joe’s shot had struck a secret tender spot. “‘Tll wait,” he said, “but Pll put a bullet through you if you play me any tricks.” ‘*Never fear!” Joe replied, and left the saloon. In half an hour more he stood in Ezra Bond’s rivate office. ‘* Well?” the vice-president said, looking up, ‘* what do you want? “‘T’m heer ter ’stonish ye!” Joe replied. ‘‘ Ye know ther policy ye issued on Andrew Allan?” “ Ye ” ‘Well, ye’r’ out yer twenty thousan’!” ‘¢ What !” ‘“¢Yeve bin tuk in an’ done fur. That Allan ain’t Allan at all, but one Tom Smith, an’ there’s been a big job put up ter cheat ye. [ve figger- ed it all ott, an’ hev got one o’ th’ gang to squeal on th’ hull game, pervidin’ he’s let off scot free, an’ paid fer what he tells. How much will ye give him ter expose th’ hull game?” Bond Jooked astonished. ‘* Can this be true?” he exclaimed. ‘¢ Bet yer sweet life it aire!” Jubilee answered. “‘T tried ter put yer onto ther racket wunst, but er didn’t ketch on, What did yer do with that it o’ paper I guv ye up at Mrs. Bradford’s?” ‘‘ Why, here it is in my vest pocket. I never thought of it again,” and tne vice-president of the company thrust his thumb and finger into his pocket. to bring the paper forth but no paper was there. ** How did ‘* Yer don’t seem ter find it, I guess.” ** You are right, my boy. Do you know where it is?” and he eyed Joe sharply. ‘**Guess I'd orter! I seen Tom Smith take it outen yer pocket!” ‘*Go ahead, my boy; tell me all.” Joe rattled on, and gave him a hurried account of how he had found out that there was so gi- | ery ascheme afoot to defraud the company. ond called in the president and repeated to him what Joe had related. ‘* My boy,” said the president, surveying Joe keenly, ‘‘if this be true you shall be richly re- warded. As for the person whom you mention, if he gives us the full details of the plot, so that we are able to save ourselves and secure the of- fenders, he shall have his liberty and a thousand dollars!” “Tt’s a bargain! Shall I bring him here?” ** Yes, and at once.” Jubilee hastened away in a jubilant mood. ne returned to Flynn’s and found Gibbs still there. When he made known the insurance company’s offer Gibbs arose. ‘‘ That settles it!” he decided, ‘‘ A thousand dollars in hand is better than twenty in the bush! I'll make a clean go of it. I will confess all,” En route to the office he explained about the real Laura Murray. Fearing Mark and Smith’s scheme might fail he and ‘‘ Mother” Hickley had gotten up a scheme of their own. He had wit- nessed the accident to the unknown girl by the Spruce street car, and perceiving that the unfor- tunate girl’s garments were almost like those worn by Laura Murray, he and the old hag had accordingly plotted to remove Laura from the den to another place of safety and represent to Mark and’ Smith that it was she who had been killed by the street-car. When they arrived at the insurance office he made a clean breast of the whole plot. About a year before, the chief conspirator— Tom Smith, alias a dozen other names—it was hard to say which was his right one—had been employed in an insurance office in New York, where Andrew Allan, of Lancaster, had taken out a policy for $20,000 payable to Laura Mur- ray. When he learned that Allan had afterward gone to sea, he formed a scheme to get possession of the money pending on the man's Lite A con- sort of his, Mark, by name, chanced to know considerable about Allan and Laura Murray, beinig an Englishman, and he and Smith entered the Hot as partners, later adding Gibbs. As Allan was to return from sea in 76, and would, as a natural consequence, visit the Cen- tennial, Smith took out another insurance in Philadelphia, as Andrew Allan; making it pay- able to Sally Mark, who was to play the part of Laura Murray. When the real Andrew Allan should arrive in Philadelphia, he was to be decoyed and killed, and his face and person so mutilated as to render him unrecognizable, except by the name on his arm, which ‘‘ Captain ” Mark knew he wore, Then Sally Mark was to draw the money on his life, and. there was to be a ‘‘divvy” and a ‘* clear-out.’ Mark had done much of the*plotting, Know- ing that Mrs. Bradford had been a friend of the Allan and Murray families in days gone by, he had a letter sent from England to reach her, from a pseudo-lawyer, suggesting that che try and bring the real Laura and Allan together, and lead them to marry, in order that the ape lish estate might he settled, giving Laura’s ad- dress as Pittsburg. Mark was the only one of the rascais who knew anything about the English estate, and never a word said he to his accomplices about it until Sally made the discovery, when she told Smith and Gibbs hersel*. Mark thought that Sally was in love with Smith, and his plan was to let them marry and then ‘‘bleed” them unmercifully for ‘ hush- money. He could have Jet his daughter into the secret, *tis true; but thinking her devoted to Smith, he cy not know what the result might be to him- self. It was a quarrel over this second ‘‘boodle” that had caused the rupture between the ‘‘ Cap- tain ” and Gibbs. It was by Mark’s maneuvering that Laura had started for Philadelphia; it was by Mark's maneuvering that » pseudo-Lancaster lady re- commended her to Mrs, Bradford. When Laura arrived in Philadelphia, she was decoyed by Gibbs to ‘‘ Mother” Hickley’s where it had been arranged to substitute y Mark, and have her visit Mrs. Bradford, as shown. Sally Mark had been in Pittsburg for a few 15 weeks, and it was there Mrs. Bradford had written to her—or, as she supposed, the real Laura Murray—inviting her to visit Philadel- phia. Thus Sally fell into her place easily enough. Through the London accomplice, who pre- tended to be a lawyer, Mrs. Bradford was ad- vised what time the real Andrew Allan would arrive in New York, and she had written to Bie summoning him immediately to Philadel- 1a, / " Of course Smith was on hand in New York to intercept that letter; and, armed with it, his position was secure. It was on his return to Philadelphia that he accosted our hero and asked the way to the in- surance compapy’s office, desiring to play his part perfectly in all its minor details. When the true Allan reached New York, he was met by the telegram sent bY Mark in Mrs. Bradford’s name, and started for Philadelphia as directed Mark joined that train at Trenton, found his man, and took a seat beside him. The drinking- lass in the car borer disappeared, and ark kindly offered Allan the use of a private cup which he carried in his valise, and thus drugged him. The drug took effect at once, and being, as he supposed, detected, Mark got. off at the next station and waited for another train. It was purposed to hold the real Laura pris- oner till the insurance money Was secured, and then to set her at liberty. This, and much more that is known to the ‘reader, Gibbs explained, He also told all inregard to his and ‘‘ Mother” Hickley’s plot, that when the bogus Laura Mur- r ahaale try to get the insurance money, the uibbs and Hickley—were to expose the whole game and produce the real Laura, in hopes the company would liberally reward them. The real Andrew Allan, he said, was confined at‘‘ Mother” Hickley’s, whither Smith had taken him in the cab, and where Smith and Mark, no doubt, would try to make ’way with him, Laura Murray, the real, was imprisoned at the house of one of ‘‘ Mother” Hickley’s friends. But little more remains to be told, The insurance company at once procured warrants, and sent detectives to arrest Mark, Smith, Sally and others; and, guided, by the gamin, theysecured them with but little trouble. Andrew Allan and Laura Murray were res- cued, and taken at once to the home of Mrs. Bradford. Ezra Bond was present, of course, as was the now victorious and irrepressible Joe, who, of course, was the hero of the hour, To him be- longed the honor of breaking up one of the greatest conspiracies that ever came to light in, the Quaker City Considering the magnitude ot tne scneme, and the cool and cunning villains he had to deal with, it was one of the quickest pieces of detec- tive work on record; it pple occupied but scant thirty-six hours in the wor ing up! Tom Smith and Sally Mark made a desperate fight to prove they were the persons they pre- tended to be, in order to secure the vast English estate, but they failed. The name and _ birth- date on Andrew Allan’s arm were sufficient to ‘knock Smith out of time.” They and ‘‘Captain” Mark received severe sentences. ’ Gibbs got off, with his thousand dollars: but ‘a short time later he was arrested for another offense, and sent to “‘ mare ” for a long term. Patsy O'Neill, therascally groggery proprietor, soon found himself in the same inst tution. Johnny Flynn, the saloon keeper, not so rascally,” now rules and reigns in a ‘‘hEnglish hAle Ouse ” in a far better part of the city, and is doing well. : +‘ Mother” Hickley was found dead in her house, about a year after the close of the great, exposition. ow, for our good people: Andrew Allan and Laura Murray were maq>- ried, of course; and so was the widow Bradtord to Ezra Bond, her old lover! Jubilee Joe, the Chain-Lightning Detective, as he was thereatiter christened by all his street chums, never reported what his reward was, but evidently it was not a small one, for he gave up his boot-black calling, and, under the advice oF his friends, spent the next five years at one of the very best schools in the State, At present, ovey the door of a neat little office on the lower part of Chestnut street, is the a lt JOSEPH BINDLEY, SPECIAL AND PRIVATE DETECTIVE, THE END, ’
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Published Every BEADLE'’S« H ALF- DIME«] IBRARY. BY EDWARD L. WHEELER. Deadwood Dick Novels, 1 Deadwood Dick, the Prince of the Road, ‘BO Deadwood Dick's Detianees or, Louble Daggers. 24 Deadwood Dick in Disguise; or, Buffalo Ben 85 Deadwood Dick in His Castle. 42 Deadwood Dick’s Bonanza; or, The Phantom Miner. 49 Deadwood Dick in Danger; or, Omana Ol. sMeadwood Dick’s Kagles; or, The Pards of Flood Bar. Deadwood Dick on Decks or, Calamity 4 ine, the Heroine pond wood eet Lost ao or, Corduroy Charlie. dwoe ck in Leadville. Deadwood oo. a ot any The Double Croas Sign. 4 a ete ve. Dead wood Dick's Double; or, The Gorgon’s Gulch Ghost. Deadwood Dick’s Home Base} or, Blonds Bill. Deadwood Dick’s Lig Strikes or, A Game of Gold. Deadwood Dick ot Deadwood: or, The Picked Party. Demiwood Dick’s reams or, The Rivals of the Road. Deadwood Dick’s Ward; or, The Black Hill’s Jezebel. Resawosd eke Beer bean wen Afrenere ck’s Dea : 221 Dendwood Dick's Death-Piant. 33 RES Best Diek: A Romance of Roughs and Towgha, BES Deadwood Dick's eed enh Sf Peenaae® 409 Deadwood Dick’s Weal; or, The Gold Briek of Oregon. $3 pond wees lok’ Pozent or, The Fakir of Phantom Flate Sei beaavosk Pek Bantenced: we Tee inte peek Miniven aaa. 405 Deadwood Dick in Dead City. 410 Deadwood Dick’s Dinmonds. ‘421 Deadwood Dick in New Yorks or, A “Cute Case.” 480 Deadwood Dick’a Punt; or, The Chained Hand. _ S45 Dandy ok bent i hee 45% Deadwood Dick, Ire. Full‘Hand,. 459 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a, Big Round-Up 465 Deadwood Dig¢k Jr.’« Racket at Claim 10 471 Dendwood Dick, Jra Corral; or, Boseman Bill. 476 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dog Detective. 4>51 Deadwood Dick, Jr., In Deadwood. 401 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Compact, 496 Deadwood Dick Jr.’s, Inheritance. 500 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a Wi nee, 608 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Deliverance, 615 Dondwood Dick Jr.'s Protegee. S22 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a, Three. S29 Veadweod Dick, Jr.’a, Danger Dacka, 584 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Death Hunt. 5B) Deadwood Dick, dr. in Texan. 544 Deadwood Dick, Jr., the Wild West Vidoog 549 Deadwooa Dyck, Jr., on Mia Mettle. 854 Deadwood Diek, Jr., in Gotham, 561 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Roaton, 567 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in Philadelphia. 572 VDeadwood Dick, Jr., in Chicago. 578 Deadwood Dick, Jr.. Afloat. 584 Deadwood Dick. ar.. in Denver. ger hectveed Bie $c, Pare > cadweo ck Jr. in Beelzebub’s 8 600 Dendwood Dick Jr., at Cone Talend ey 606 Deadwood Dick, Jr’ Leadville Lay. 612 Deadwood Dick, Jr., In Detroit. 618 Deadwood Dick. Jr. in Cincinnati, 624 Neadwood Dick, Jr, in Nevada, 680 Deadwood Dick, Jr., in No Man’s Land, 686 Deadwood Dick, Jr., er the Queer. 642 Deadwood Dick. Jr.. in Buffalo. G48 Deadwood Dick, dra, Chase Across the Continent GH Deadwood Dick, Jr., Among the Smugglers. 660 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Inauranee Case, 666 Deadwood Bick, Jx.5 Back in the Minea, 672 Deadwood Dick, Jr., tn Durango; or, “ Gathered In.” 4 Bee hill 5 Di ai a’ At tate } , . De 690 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s. Dollars. 695 Deadwood Dick Jr., at Danger Divide.) 700 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Drop, 704 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Jack-Pot. 0 Deadwood Dick. Jr,, in San Franciseo, 6 Deadwood Dick, Jréa Still Hunt. 2 Deadwood Vick, Jr.’a Dominoes. 8 Deadwood Bick, Jr.’ ‘Diagulae 4 Deadwood Dick. drs, Double Deal, 0 Deadwood Dick Jr.’s, Deathwatch, AT Deadwood Dick Jr.'s; Voublet. The Deadwood Dick Jr.’a, Deathblow. TbR Deadwood Dick, dJr.’a Desperate Strait, 764 Deadwood Dick, Jr’s, Lone Hand, T70 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s Defeat. 776 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a, Resurrection. 782 Deadwood Dick. Jr.’s Dark Days. @S7 Deadwood Dick Jr., Defled, %92 Deadwood Wick, Jr.’«, Double Device, 297 Wendwood Dick, Jr’.a, Desperate Venture, | 802 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Dinmond Dice, 807 Deadwood Dick Jr.’s, Royal Flush, 812 Deadwood Diek, Jr.’s Wead-off, 816 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Rival. 822 Dendwood Dick, Jr.'s, Boom 828 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a, Reoop. 884 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Proxy. 840 Deadwood Vick, Jr's, Clutch. 845 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, High Ilforae. 852 Deadwood Dick Jr., at Deyil’s Guich. R58 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Benth-Hole Hustle, 8868 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’« Bombshell. 870 Deadwood Dick, Jr., In Mexico. 876 Deadwood Dick, Jr’a Decoy Duck. B82 Dendwood Dick, Jr. in Silver Pocket. 891 Peadwvuod Dick. Jra, Dead-Sure Game 898 Deadwood Dick, Jdr.’«, Double Drive. 904 Dendwood IWMck, Jr.’s, Trade-Mark, 910 Deadwood Dick, Jr., nt fatal aay 2 216 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s. Double-Decker.' $28 Dendwood Dick, Jr. At Dollarville. 984 Deadwood Dick, Jr.. at Flush Plata 940 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a, Shake-up. 946 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Double Drop, PSL Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Right Bower. 957 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’a, Ten-Strike, 965 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s, Gold-Dust. 971 Deadwood Dick Jr.’a, Oath, 977 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s,; Death-Doom, 986 Deudwood Dick, Jr.’a, Beat Card, 992 Deadwood Dick, Jr., at Gold Dust. 998 Deadwood Dick, Jr.'s, Big Play. 1005 Deadwood Dick, Jr.. Branded. 1011 Deadwood Dick, Jr.’s. Dutch Pard. 10185 Deadwood Dics, Jr.'s, Big Four. HY ROBERT R, INMAN, 1086 Pandy Dick’s Double. 1024 Dandy Dick, Detective. BY MAROUS H, WARING, Soonaa SeSriorss ae elogedrgereea pee on x Cor sons The Biveet Roctiens’ Weird Hunt. ree ere e un 1So5 The Three Spotters’ Dead Mystery. Tuesday. Hach Issue Complete and Sold at the % iform Price. of Five Cents, by all Newsdealers.. Other Novels by E. L. Wheeler. 80 Rosebud Rob; or, Nogget Ned, the Knight. 84 Rosebud Rob on Hand; or, Idy), the Girl Miner. 88 Rosebud Rob’s Reappenrance}; or, Photograph Phil, 121 Rosebud Rob’s Challenge; or, Cinnamon Chip. 277 Denver Doll, tle Detective Queen; or, The Yankee’s Surround 281. Denver Doll’s Vietory; or, Skul! and Crossbones. 285 Venver Poll’s Decoy ; or. Little Bill’s Bonanza. aoe pa at ae A 3 or, The Road Queen. % Yreka m, the Gold-Gatherers or, The Lie Lot r, 872 Yreka Jim’sa Prize; or, The Wolves of Wake-Up, ne 8385 Yreka Jim's Jéker 3 or, The Rivals of Red Nose. 894 Yreka Jim of Yuba Dam. 209 Fritz, the Bound-Boy Detective; or, Dot Leetle Game, 218 Fritz to the Front; or, The Ventriloguist Hunter 244 Sierra Sam, the Frontier Ferret; or, A Sister’s Devotion. 2458 Sierra Samra Secret; or, The Bloody Footprints, 258 Slerra Sam’s Pard; or, The Angel of Big Vista. 258 Sierra Sam’a Seven; or, The Stolen Bride. 834 Kangaroo Kit; or, The Mysterious Miner. 889 Kangaroo Kit’a Racket; or, The Pride of Playod-Ont. 39 Denath-Face, Detective; or, Life in New York. 96 Watch-Eye;, the Detective; or, Arabs and Angela. 117 Gilt-Edged Dick, the Sport Detective 145 Oaptain Ferret, the New York Detective. 161 New York Nell, the Boy-Girl Detective. 226 The Arab Detective; or, Snoozer, the Boy Sharp. 291 Turk the Boy Ferret. 825 Kelley, Mickey & Wo., the Detectives of Philadelphia. 848 Manhattan Mike, the Bowery Detective, 400 Wrinkles, the Night-Watch Detective. 416 High Wat Marry, the Base Ball Detective. 426 Sam Slabsides, the Begear-Boy Detective. 434 Jim Beak and Pal, Private Detectives. 26 OCloven Hoof, the Buffalo Demon: or, The Border Vultures. 82 Bob Woolf’ or, The Girl Dead-Shot. 45 Old Avalanche; or, Wild Edna, the Girl Brigand, 58 Jim Bludsoe, Jr., the Boy Phenix. 61 Muckhorn Bill; or, The Red Rifle Team. 92 Canada Chet 3 or, Old Anaconda in Sitting Bull’s-Camp. 118 Jack Moyle the Young Speculator. : 3125 Bonanza Bill, Miner; or, Madam Mystery, the Forger. 188 Boss Bob the King of Bootblacks, 141 Solid Sam, the Boy Road-Agent; or, The Branded Brows. 1w7 Lg Ra of Nevada3 or, The Sierras Scampa. 181 Wild Frank the Buckskin Bravo; or, Lady Lily’s Love, 286 Apollo Rill, the Trail Tornado; or, Rowdy Kate. 240 Oyclone Kit, the Young Gladiator; or, The Locked Valley. 278 Jumbo Joe, the Boy Patro}; or, The Rival Heirs. 880 Little Quick-Shot; or, The Doad Face of Daggersville. 858 First-Class Fred, the Gent trom Gopher. 878 Nabob Ned $ or, Tho Secret of Slab City. 882 Cool Kit, the King of Kids; or, A Villain’s Vengeance, 233 Santa Fe Sal, the Slasher; or, A Son’s Vengeance. 8 Bealakin Sam, the Sparkler; or The Tribunal of Ten. 918 Kit Kelth, t e Revenue Spotter. 922 Sol Sharpe, the New_York Night-Hawk. 948 Old Hayseed Among Bunce Men. 1001 Banty, the Denver Bootblack. BY J. C, COWDRICK. 490 Broadway Billy, the Bootblack Bravo. 514 Broadway Billy’a Boodle; or, Clearing a Strange Case, 586 Broadway Billy’s ‘Ditikilty.” 557 Broadway Billy’s Peath Kacket- 579 Broadway Billy’s Surprise Party. 605 Broadway Billy; or, The ®-~ Detective's Big Inning. 628 Broadway Billy’s Dea_. _ctt or, The League of Seven. 669 Broadway Billy Abroad; or, The Bootblack in Frisco. 675 Broadway Billy’s« Beast; or, Beating San Francisco's Finest. O87 Brondway Billy tn Clover. 696 Broadway Billy in Texas; or, The River Rustlers, 708 Broadway Billy’s Brand. 711 Broadway Billy at Santa Fe; or, The Clever Deal. 720 Broadway Billy’s }'ull Wand: or, The Gamin Detective, 7835 Broadway Billy’s Business. 788 Broadway Billy’a Curious Case. 75S Broadway -Billy in Denver. 762 Broadway Eilly’s Bargain; or, The Three Detective. 769 Broadway Billy, the Retriever Detective. 175 Rroadway Rilly’a Shadow Chase. 788 Broadway Billy’s Beagles; or, The Trio'’s Quest. 786 Brondway Billy’s Team; or, The Combine’s Big Pull. 290 Broadway Billy’s Brigade; or, The Dead Alive, 796 Broadway Billy’« Queer Bequest, 800 Broadway Rilly Baffled. 805 Broadway Billy’« Signal Scoop. 810 Broadway Billy’s Wipe Out. 815 Brondway Billy’ Bank Racket. 821 Broadway Billy’a Bluff #26 Broadway lilly among Jersey Thegs. 838 Kroadway RBilly’s Raid. 889 Broadway Billy’s Big Boom, 844 Broadway Billy’s Big Bulge. $49 Broadway Billy’« #100,000 Snap. 866 Broadway Billy’s Blind: or, Fhe Bootblack Stowaway. 862 Rroadway Billy In London, 868 Broadway Billy Shadows London Slums. 874 Broadway Billy’s French Game. 880 Broadway Billy and the Bomb-Throwers. B60 Bilver-Mask, the Man of Mystery; or, The Golden Keys. 869 Shasta, the Gold King; or, For Seven Yoars Dead, 420 The Detective’s Apprentice; or, A Boy Without a Name. 424 Cibuta Jonn; or, Red-Hot Times at Ante Bar. 439 Sandy Sam, the Street Scout. 467 Biaco Dan, the Daisy Dude. 806 Redlight Ralph the Prince of the Road. 524 The Engineer Detective; or, Redlight Ralph’s Resolve $48 Mart, the Night Express Detective. &T1 Air-Line Luke the Young Engineer; or, The Double Case 592 ‘The Boy Pinkerton; or, Runving the Rascals Ont. 615 Fichting Marry the Chie! of Chained Cyclone. 640 Bareback Reth, the Centanr of the Circle, G47 Tynewrlter Tilly the Merchant’s Ward. 659 Moonlight Morgan. the Pizenest ’? Man of Ante Bar, SS? Battery Bob. the Dock Detective. 894 Arizona Dick’s Wipe-Out. 900 Jumping Jack’s Jubilee. 906 Safety Sam,,. the Cycle Sport. 912 Train Boy Trisat’s Wot Mustle, 918 The Trump Dock-Boy, 924 Big Roots Bob; the Vire-Laddie, 980 Rustler Ralph, the Boy Spotter. 985 The Ex-Newashoy Detective’s Cham. 941 The Bowling Green Detective’s Drop, 944 Cowboy) Chartie’s Double. 947 The Bowery W restler; or, The Butcher-Boy’s Backer. 958 Paddy’s Trump Card; or, Silver Sallie, the Girl Sport, 960 The Broadway Sport; or, Fiver Fred’s Clear Case, PR? &1000 Rewards; or, The Rival Reposters’ Sleek Scoop, 978 Rantam Billy, the Corker-Ferret. 928 Plucky Pat, the Street-Rey Detective. 989 Bicycle Bob’s Hot Scorch, 997 Scorcher Sam, the Detective on Wheels. 1004 Scorcher Mam’s Sweep-Stake a. 1009 ‘Ine Girl Cyelin’s Winning Hand. BY ARIZONA CY. 1048 Vou Ret Bob fram Cross Crick, 1088 You Bet Bob’s Cireus, BUFFALO BILL NOVELS. BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM, 1052 Ruffalo Bill in Spisguise, 1046 Goid Plume, the Boy Bandit, of, Buffalo Bill, the Pony Express Rider. 1042 wittle Grit, the Pony Express Rider. 1040 Buffalo GUVs Pony Patrol. 1018 Buffalo BUPs Texas Team, 1007 Buatfalo Biuls Sure-Shota. 1000 Butfalo bill’s Decoy Boya. 995 Buffalo Bills Drop; or, Déead-Shot Ned , the Kansas Kid, 98S Bulfalo BIIl’s Lasso Throwers, 981 Buffalo Bill's Fighting Five. 975 Buffalo Bill's Kiffe Shots. r 968 Buffalo BUVs Rush Ride; or, Sure-Shot, the High-Flyer, 964 Buffalo BUVs Decoy ; or, The Arizona Crack Shot, 955 Buffalo Bil’s Mazeppa-Chase. 948 Buffalo Bill's Snap-Shot ; or, Wild Kid’s Texan Tally 942 Buffalo Bills Tough Tuasle. 936 Buffalo Bill’s Boy Mascots or, Joe Jarvis’ Hold-up. 929 Buffalo BUPs Crack-shot Pard, 650 Buffalo Bills Boy Pard; or, Butterfly Billy, 216 Bisen Bill, the Prince of the Reins. 222 Bison Bill’a Clue; or. Grit, the Bravo Sport, BY, BUFFALO BILL. 55 Deadly-Eye, the Unknown Scout; or, The Banded Brotherhood 68 Border Robin Hoody or, The Prairie Rover, 158 Fancy Frank of Colorado; or, The Trapper’s Trust. 1029 The Phantom &py. 1088 Kansans King; or, The Red Right Nand. BY CAPT. ALFRED B. TAYLOR, U. 8. A. 191 RBaffalo Rilly, the Boy Bnliwhacker, 194 Buffalo Bill’s Bet; or, The Gambler Guide. BY COL. PRENTISS INGRAHAM. 1087 The Arifst Detective. 1084 The Gold Witch's Shadower. 1081 The Texun Hustlers in Cuba. 1027 The Cowboy Raiders in Ouba 1025 The Flying Yankee or, The Ocean Ontcast. 1028 The Cowboy Clan in Cuba. 1016 The @az Bugler in Ouba, i 982 New York Nat’s Drop: or, Ex-Ferret Sykes’ Bold Game 926 New York Nat and the Traitor Ferret. 920 New York Nat Trapped. v 914 New York Nat’s Three of a Kind. 908 New York Nat’« Double, 902 New York Nat’s in Colorado. 896 New Nork Nat in Gold Nugget Camp, S89 New York Nat’s Dendly Deal. 855 New York Nat’s Crook-Chase. 877% New York Nat’s Trump Card, S7L New York Nat and the Grave Ghouls, 865 New York Nuat’s Masked Mascot, 859 New York Nat, the Gamin Detective, 858 Dick Doom’« Kidnap Knock-Ont, 847 Dick Deowm’s Ten Strike, 842 Dick Doom’s Flush Hand, i 772 Dick Doom’s Death-Grip; or, The Detective by Destinys 77 Dick Doom’s Destiny; or, The River Blackleg’s Terror, {24-Dick Doom; or. Ihe Sharps and Sharks of New York. 788 Dick Doom In Roston: or, A Man of Many Masks, 798 Dick Doom tn Chicuge. 298 Dick Doom fn the Wild Weat, 808 Dick Doom’s (lean Swecp; or, Five Links in a Clues) 808 Dick Doow’s Meath Clue. . 818 Dick Doom’s Diamond Deal. 819 Dick Doow:™ Girl Mascot. 829 Dick Doon’s Shadow Hunt. 885 Dick Doom’s Big Haul. 749 Dashing Charlie; or, The Kentucky Tenderfoot’s First Tratiy 756 Dashing Charhic’s Destiny; or, The Renegade’s Captive. 760 Dashing Charlie’» Pawnee Pard. 766 Dashing Charlic, the Rescuer, 49? Buek Taylors King of the Cowboys. 837 Buck Taylor, the Comanche's Captive. 748 Buck Taylor’s Boys; 01, The Red Riders of the Rio Grande, Ana Fifty Others. BY LIEUT. A. K, SIMS. 589 Tom-Cat and Pardy or, The Dead Set at Silver City. 622 Tom-Cat’s Triad; or, The Affair at Tombstone, 681 Tom Cat’a Terrible Task; or, The Cowboy Detective 688 Tom-Oat’s Triumph} or, Black Dan’s Great Combine. 546 Gaptain Oactuss the Chaparral Cock; or, Josh’s Ten Strike, 568 The Dandy of Dodge; or, Rustling for Millions. 576 The Sliver Sport: or, Josh Peppermint’s Jubilee. 688 Saffron Sol, the Man With a Shadow 601 Happy Hana, the Dutch Vidocg; or, Hot Times at Round-Up! 611 Bu by § Barnacle, the Detective Hercules. G46 Cowboy Gids the Cattle-Range Detective. 657 Warbling William the Mountain Mountebank, 665 Jolly Jereminhy the Plains Detective. 676 Stenal Sam, the Lookout Scout. 689 Billy, the Gypsy Spyt_or, The Mystery of Two Lives.” 699 Simple Sim, the Broncho Buster: or. For Big Stakes. 12 The Meamertat Sports or, The Mystified Detective, | 88 Toltee Tom, the Mad Prospector. Ad Kanaas Jim the Crosa-Cut Detective, 61 Marmaduke, the Mustanger Detective. » as 78 The Ruatler of Rolling Stone. 85 Lone Mand Jee the Committee of One. 01 Kent- Kirby, the High-Kicker from Killbuck, 882 The Doctor Dete etive In Texak, 872 Two Showmen Hetectives in Colorado, 987 The Texan Fir ebrandat or, Brazos Billy’s Snap.Shot. 3 961 The Tramp’s Trump-Trick. NEW ISSUES. 1064 Dandy Dick Pecoyed. By Robert.R, Inman. 1065 Rure Shot Seth, the Boy Rifleman. By Oll Coomes, 1066 Co -boy Chris, the Des rt Centaur, Ry W. W., Wilder. 1067 You Ret Bob's Jangie. By Arizona ¢ Vs 1068 The Cruise of the Sen Wo'f, By Col. Ingraham. 1069 @n Land and fen. By Bracebridge Hemyngy] 1070. Nat Todds"or, Tho Fate of tue Sioux Captive, By Ellis, 1071 Dandy Dick’s Decoy, By Robt. RK. Inman. 1072 Keen Knife, Prince of the Prairies. By Oll Coomes, JUST ISSUED. 105% Red Raven’s Redskin Ruse. _ By Col. P, Ingraham 1058 Cowboy Chris in Cinnabar, By Wm, W. Wilder, 1057 Gold Rifle, the Sharpshooter. By Ed. Ly Wheeler. 1068 Roderick, the Rover. By{T. J. Flanngan 1059 Ned Wylde, the Boy Scout. By Ayame Jack. 1060 Marlo, the Renegade. By Col. Prentiss Ingrabam. 1061 Milver Star, the Boy Knight. By Ol Coomes 1062 Tho Left-Nand Athlete. By Bracebridge Hemyng. 1068 .Wild Bill's Weird Foe. By Wm.G Patten. A New Issue Every Tuesday. The Half-Dime Library {a for sale by all newsdealers, five gents per copy, or sent by mati on receipt o1 six cents each. “BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, Q2 William Street, New York. DHeieieieieird